#like he calls everyone bye ���the- and then whatever their role in the story is”

[sobashahzadi]

I love how Evbo doesn’t call anyone by name in parkour civilisation except of course for Seawatt who he calls by name once he learns it which is so funny because evbo u see what u did right there u see u just made toxic yaoi

[adamnablelittledevil]

Reacting to The Vampire Lestat - Part IV (with a bit of spoilers)

Lestat's narration has gotten so much better actually. I mean, I still don't care when he talks about stuff that doesn't have an effect on him, but when he describes things/people that actually do? It's great. It's just so vivid, rich, colorful, sometimes even abstract that simply makes me giggle and kick my feet. When he gets really thoughtful about life, vampirism, existence, religion, morality, feelings, theater, music etc, it feels like borderline insanity, but in a brilliant way? Feels like I'm tasting some crazy drug and tripping, but it's so good? It activates a very specific part of my neurodivergent brain and I love it because I'll also be having those crazy thoughts all by myself with nobody to talk to and Lestat just gets it.

I also love the excess of exclamations on this POV haha.

Sometimes it just feels like a naive child telling things and is kind of endearing.

ARMAND!

Armand in Lestat's words: he was beautiful, ethereal, sublime, exquisite, delicate, soft, perfect, a Caravaggio painting, a Da Vinci painting, an angel, I found myself in him, the possibility of him, I didn't pay attention to [whatever] because I was looking at him etc etc.

Basically calling him the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, really.

Like, I legit MEMORIZED some of them. Lestat was THAT repetitive lmao.

I don't know if it's because the words were so superlative or because Lestat had it that bad or because I have it that bad just thinking about it, but yeah.

I'm not even kidding when I say I need to take pauses because this is kind of unsettling.

I'm so serious, but I feel like reading Lestat's description of Armand has a bigger effect on me than the prettiest person I have ever seen in freaking R E A L L I F E? What the hell, WHAT IS THIS SORCERY?

Lestat, tone it down, I'm begging you.

Been told Armand is really that gorgeous and every character talks about him that way, so apparently he isn't exaggerating... I'm gonna lie down, bye.

It's even worse because I just picture show!Armand because he's even more handsome there so it makes me dizzy.

Also because Lestat won't miss an opportunity to talk about his beauty? He LITERALLY says it EVERY SINGLE TIME he sees Armand. I'm not joking, I swear on my own life. I'm like, OKAY, WE GET IT? ENOUGH!

Armand (Lestat's version) on season 3 will be insufferable and I'm so ready for it. But also not ready yk.

At this point I'm basically just drooling over him and I don't care.

PERFECT casting with Assad. He incorporates Armand like no other. Everyone on the show is talented and I can see them as their characters, but there's one thing or another that I imagine differently sometimes? But not Armand, like, my Armand looks, walks, moves, talks, stares etc the exact same way Assad does it on the show. Every single time. The others are like, 90% or something for me, but Assad is 100% my imagination? It's like he traveled in time, stole my 2024 thoughts, went back to the past, auditioned, got the part and then played it exactly the way I see it today. It's crazy.

Wouldn't be surprised if that's the case, they already have all these possessions going on, what's more to our little satanic show lmao.

Also, great casting with Assad because no man with red-ish hair has looked this good ever. It just doesn't make sense, I'm sorry.

Armand is a beauty God, but also a really good character and I love his lines. Even when I don't agree with him, I just find him fascinating, the role he has on the story, what he represents, the way he moves the plot, whatever the effect he has on Lestat etc...

Armand's moments are never boring. He'll probably piss me off later, but right now I'm having a great time and the book has never been better.

Lesmand's/Armandstat's moments are always heated. The tension is always there. I'm not telling you what kind. Actually, I don't even know it myself. Do THEY even know?

Sam said something about how you're never sure what they are and I think he's right? At least for now. Let's see it after all the books.

They also act like they've known each other forever, have this crazy history that goes through centuries and they already can push each other's buttons... But they actually, like, only know each other for 5 minutes? CHILL?!

They're sort of soul ties/mirrors/foils/two sides of the same coin-coded in an appealing way.

I guess I can say Armand is my favorite character right now. I always read it faster when he's there, I'm always looking forward to seeing him again, I'm fine when I don't see Gabrielle or Nicki, but I'm always like, BRING HIM BACK. I don't know if I should be worried I'll grow into hating him when stuff happens or if I'll just be an Armand apologist lol. I'm scared. But let's wait to see it.

Samssad on season 3 will be delicious. Specially on the 1700s flashbacks. I'm expecting almost, if not EVERY scene of them there to be INTENSE. Great acting potential there.

I really want to see a moment with Armand and Lestat in a church like on the book? Let's take their angelic faces and curls to the next level. Put them in a church, surrounded by religious figures, stained glasses, candles etc. I don't even care what the context will be. They can be talking, silent, killing each other, doing something else, doing all of it, but give me the heavenly visuals. Actually, if they want to film the entire show in a church they can, it would be so aesthetically pleasing. Bonus points if they use Gothic churches because I'm extremely obsessed with them. Bonus points if they use Sainte-Chapelle because I'm kind of even more hyperfixated on that. I mean, it would never happen, but it should *shrugs*.

Btw, the mess Armand made in the house and the way he was reading the books is very neurodivergent of him.

The way he prefers to talk telepathically instead of speaking out loud is very neurodivergent of him as well.

Nicki is soooooooooo doomed by the narrative, omg. Anne didn't even try to hide it.

I'm not really sure how I feel about Nicki except that he needs therapy...

This is probably the silliest comment so far, I'm no longer thinking clearly after Armand's introduction. Sorry, guys. It will happen again.

The next chapter has his name so I'm scared, but also excited.

P.S. Nothing is permanent, opinions might change and this is based on Lestat’s narration, which can be unreliable. I’m reading the books so I can find out more about the characters, what potential events might happen in the show, what I can expect etc. This is my favorite show in the universe, so I want to be as informed as possible. I have no idea if I’ll become a legit fan of the books or not, but so far I’m enjoying it. I’m posting these comments only for fun.

[dedicatednotobsessed]

hiii! I've noticed there's been a few Ewan fics on here and they're all SO GOOD! haha, genuinely. I was wondering if it would be okay to request a fic idea for him?

essentially, reader's newest role is that of a crazy person. she has fun with the role and everyone seems to enjoy it, especially ewan who happens to be a fan of hers. she's heard good things about his career too and they get a proper chance to meet in the form of an interview. they talk about eachother's careers, what is was like for reader to embody that role and both are just fascinated by eachother haha. months later and the two are an official couple, all cute wherever they go and just adore eachother. please? 😊

Of course! For more Ewan/Aemond + other HOTD character/actor requests, my ask box is always open 💚

Fans to Lovers [Ewan Mitchell x Reader]

Other HOTD stories [requests open]

Summary: You had recently began press for an upcoming psychological thriller, playing the lead antagonist. While doing an interview, the interviewer brings up one of your biggest fans: Ewan Mitchell. You begin to talk about how much you love his work and it turns out he was listening the entire time. As you talk about your careers, you begin to feel a connection with him….

You hummed along to the song currently playing on your phone as you finished up your makeup. You had a collection of interviews to promote your new movie, a psychological thriller. You were most excited for your fans to see this, having put a lot of work into becoming the crazed character you played. It was a change to most characters you have played before and you hoped your fans loved it as much as you loved playing her.

You put your hair up to keep it out of your face, glancing down at the time. “Shit,” You swore realizing you were going to be late.

You rushed to collect your purse and keys, struggling to put your shoes on. You are not known for your punctuality, that much was true.

“Bye Khaleesi!” You called to your cat while rushing out, your cat only staring at you as you closed and locked the door behind you.

Khaleesi was a young white fluffy cat with blue eyes, being named after one of your favorite Game of Thrones characters. She was a star all over your social media and since you don’t have any real children yet, she is the only daughter you have.

You kept glancing at the time, sighing as you barely made it to the interview. You rushed out fixing your hair while walking in. You still wanted to look presentable.

“There’s Miss. Punctuality!” Your manager called teasingly seeing you run into the green room.

You rolled your eyes with a small smile. “I’m still on time!”

“By a minute.”

You held up your finger. “But a minute still counts,” You said in a matter of fact tone.

“Whatever am I going to do with you?” Your manager asked with a raised brow.

“Oh.” You waved your hand a bit. “You act as though you hate me,” You said jokingly.

Your manager chuckled while urging you out once you put your stuff down. “But now you are officially late for your interview.”

❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈

“There she is!”

You smiled at the interviewer while laughing a bit. “I know, I know. I already got my ass chewed out by manager.”

The interviewer laughed a bit and smiled as an assistant came over to touch up her makeup while you sat down opposite from her. You tapped your foot lightly, looking down at your hands.

“So!” The interviewer began, a bit chirpy, with a wide smile on her perfect white teeth. “It is so nice to meet you, Y/N. I was lucky enough to see the movie early and I must say, your performance is so beautiful.”

You returned the interviewer’s smile, lightly pushing your hair out of your face. “Thank you,” You said giggling a bit.

The interviewer smiled lightly before placing a hand against her ear, having an ear piece in. She furrowed her brows a bit. “Oh he’s here already? Great! Send him in!”

You raised a brow a bit. “I’m sorry? Is there something going on?”

“Well, I heard it was your birthday week, Y/N,” The interviewer began, a smile never leaving her face. “I also heard one of your favorite actors was Ewan Mitchell....”

You furrowed your brows and looked over when the door opened, gasping at the sight of the man walking through the side door. You loved all of his projects from World on Fire to The Last Kingdom. 

“Am I early?” Ewan asked with a small smile.

The interviewer smiled and shook her head. “Please take a seat.”

“Ewan told us how big of a fan he was of your work and wanted to ask about your most recent role,” The interviewer said with a soft smile. “Happy birthday, Y/N!”

You giggled a bit nervously and smiled over at Ewan. “Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it. I had a really fun time with this character.”

Ewan looked over at you with a small and soft smile. You thought to yourself how much more good looking he was in real life. You turned away, your cheeks flushing red when you noticed you were staring at him for a bit too long.

The boy laughed a bit. “Am I making you nervous, love?”

You shook your head while smiling more. “This is just an amazing birthday present,” You said, giggling.

Ewan chuckled and smiled wrapping an arm around you. “So, I just wanted to know how you prepared for this role...I’m sorry I shouldn’t be the one asking the questions.”

The interviewer laughed a bit while waving her hand. “Go right ahead, Ewan.”

You laughed a bit at how your face just became redder. It was clear how nervous you were, failing at hiding it. “Um, I got inspiration from the DC character, Harley Quinn,” You replied, laughing at how shaky your voice was. “I studied her movie and show appearances, really feeling for how crazy she was and just embodying that into my character.”

Ewan nodded as he listened, smiling when the two of you made eye contact. Not only was he even more good looking in person, but his blue eyes were even more beautiful. Seeing them on a screen didn’t do them justice. 

You noticed both Ewan and the interviewer were staring at you and you blinked after a moment. “I’m sorry did someone ask a question?”

Both burst into laughter, Ewan grinning wide. “I’m really glad I got invited to come and meet you, love.”

❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈ ❈

“We’re going to be late, love!”

“I’m almost ready!” You called back, looking over at Khaleesi while you put your earrings in. “Don’t give me that look,” You mumbled with a small smile reaching over to pet her. 

You lifted up the skirt of your dress and grabbed your heels as you walked through the bedroom. Tonight was the premiere of your movie and you were excited to see your fans’ reactions. 

“Can you help me with my heels?” You pouted at your boyfriend as you came out to the living room.

Ewan let out a sigh but he had a smile on his lips. “Come here, Cinderella.”

You giggled and sat down your heels, smiling happily as Ewan bent down to help you with your shoes. Ever since the interview about four months ago, the two of you connected and eventually it became something more. You remembered when you announced it on social media, all of your fans were going crazy. 

Ewan stood up and pulled you close, wrapping an arm around you. “You look absolutely stunning,” He breathed out.

You scrunched up your nose while placing your hands on his chest, a loving smile on your lips. “It helps that I have such a handsome date,” You whispered leaning up to kiss him gently.

Ewan met you halfway, his lips softly connecting with yours. “We should really get going or else we will be late,” He stated once he released the kiss while chuckling a bit.

You held tight onto your boyfriend’s hand once you arrived at the venue, the premiere only barely starting. Although you were the star and possibly one of the last cast members to arrive, you would still say you arrived on time.

You smiled lovingly at your boyfriend, scrunching up your nose as fans cheered for the two of you. The cameras loved the two of you while Ewan held you close to him, your head on his chest with wide smiles on both of your faces.

“I know I am going to wake up tomorrow to a lot of fans talking about how cute we are tonight, but they think we’re cute everyday,” You whispered to him laughing a bit.

Ewan chuckled and kissed the top of your head, closing your eyes. “Well, I think we are a pretty cute couple,” He stated.

You looked up at him while smiling more. “Damn right we are,” You replied and kissed him gently on the lips, giggling a bit. 

It was a dream to date one of your celebrity crushes. You never imagined that you would date, let alone, meet Ewan. The world does work in mysterious ways though and it seemed to work in your favor. You felt as though Ewan was the love of your life, although it sounded crazy being together for only four months, but it felt right. It felt as though Ewan Mitchell was your person and you were his.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 316: We've Had One, Yes, But What About Second Explosion

Previously on BnHA: Deku was all “[powers up like whoa because it’s time to end the fight]”, and he saved Overhaul from getting not-shot, and then smashed up Nagant’s arm with the power of his new rechargeable super knees. Nagant was all “yoooo this kid is crazy strong whaaaat, it’s like he’s some kind of protagonist or something.” Deku was all “I AM A PROTAGONIST, ACTUALLY, DO YOU WANT TO JOIN FORCES AND FIGHT BAD GUYS WITH ME?” Nagant was all “ah shit why the hell no -- ” and then AFO was all “SURPRISE” and everyone was all “?!?!?!” and AFO was all “TIME TO EXPLODE NOW” and made Nagant explode because he’s an absolute fucking dick. And then Hawks showed up, because Horikoshi just wanted to stuff as many plot points as humanly possible into a single chapter I guess.

Today on BnHA: Hawks is all “good job giving motivational shounen redemption speeches Deku but I’ll take it from here” and screams very earnestly right in Nagant’s face until she finally wakes up. Nagant is all “oh hey it’s my successor, you seem surprisingly unfucked-up from your own HPSC tenure, how did you manage that?” Hawks is all “fandom is going to love hearing this one, but basically it’s because I’m very upbeat and also I had the world’s best role model Endeavor to look up to,” and I swear this man stirs the pot on purpose, but damn it I still love him so damn much. Overhaul is all “HELLO AGAIN, JUST A REMINDER THAT, THE BOSS!!” and Deku is all “MAYBE TAKE TWO SECONDS TO REFLECT ON HOW YOU TORTURED A LITTLE GIRL,” which, thank you, lol. Nagant is all “btw AFO’s hiding in a house in the woods”, and so Deku and the gang go to the house in the woods. Video recording!AFO is all “hi I’m AFO welcome to Jackass” and blows up the house. Sometimes I wonder if this manga is just a weird dream.

I am once again reading the Bean version because I think it was actually the best out of all three translations last week. and that is surprisingly including Viz’s. “faux” is not nearly as entertaining as “knockoff”, and also I have literally no idea why Caleb thought Deku was saying the Third’s lines lol

oh hey, Endeavor’s here too! not that you’d ever be able to tell from this first panel lmao

glad you received All Might’s call, mysterious unidentified glowing smudge

oh snap he says he’s weaker in the rain. is that why AFO told Nagant to attack then?? except that as we discussed the other day, I believe that AFO fully intended for Nagant to lose the fight, so him giving her info that would give her an advantage doesn’t really fit in with that. maybe he wanted Deku to be separated from Endeavor and the rest for maximum angst, though

btw Deku’s eyes are unsurprisingly back to the new normal here

alas, the angst continues. I say, pretending like I’m not totally eating it up each and every week and writing essay after essay about it lol

anyway so apparently Hawks can’t actually fly lmao. he was just yeeting himself with style

for some reason this is the funniest fucking thing I’ve ever seen omfg. wave to Hawks, kids! say “bye, Hawks!”

j/k of course Deku is catching them. -- except???

wow so he was just running on fumes there at the end. well, good to know there is actually a limit to his shenanigans, particularly regarding this new “knockoff” 100% OFA. it will definitely not alleviate any of the discourse, but it’s good for my own peace of mind because it’s solid confirmation that he still needs his pals in order to win this thing

anyway, but on to the rest of this conversation, which is basically Deku deducing what we all deduced last week -- AFO implanted some sort of trap into Nagant when he gave her Air Walk. though I’d still like to get the actual details from AFO and/or Horikoshi, because this was particularly wild even by quirk standards lol

omgggggg

she still has a face after all!! so it’s confirmed, Horikoshi has no idea what “blowing up” actually means. we might have guessed, based on what happened to Toga in the MVA arc, and also based on everything Katsuki does ever, but shhh

so now Hawks is all “NAGANT PLEASE WAKE UP, IF I SHOUT MY NAME AT YOU WILL THAT DO THE TRICK”

this is actually kind of touching though because even though we all know (or most of us acknowledge at any rate) that Hawks is a pretty caring person, it’s rare to see him actually panic over someone’s welfare like this

oh shit Horikoshi is really doubling down on it

I wonder how much Hawks knew about what really happened between Nagant and the HPSC. regardless, he probably sees her as a kindred spirit of sorts, and I’m more than happy for Deku to pass the redemption torch onto him now that he’s on the scene. like no offense Deku but they actually know each other and stuff lol

DAMMIT NAGANT CAN’T YOU SEE HOW LOUD HE IS YELLING

apparently being freed from his HPSC shackles has finally given Hawks the space to embrace his own inner shounen protagonist. is there anything more shounen than trying to motivationally scream someone awake when they’re lying in your arms inches from death?? 100% guaranteed to work

!!! IS THIS NAGANT’S POV OMG

SO SHE IS ALIVE. THANK GOD. Horikoshi doesn’t want to meet with my emotional distress lawyer today after all

love how she’s all “just gonna stir up the weekly Hawks Discourse pot here by implying that he probably committed a lot of Atrocities just like I did, so now people can get all hopped up about that, even though there’s no evidence he’s ever killed anyone aside from that one horrible ‘damned-if-you-do...’ situation with Twice.” no one asked for your provocative speculation young lady!! trust me Nagant, our rabbles don’t need the rousing lol

but nice save there with the “so how are your eyes so untainted” well you see it’s because even when he was following the HPSC’s orders he always went to great lengths never to go against his own moral compass. which just to be clear was incredibly difficult, and led to a ton of pain and suffering on his part, because the life of a spy is basically just one impossible situation after another. but in spite of that he never stopped trying to do his best to help people. I don’t really know where this tangent came from or is leading to, lol, but anyway p.s.a. I love Hawks a lot and he’s a good kid dammit

oh shit??!?

how is the League always able to swing all these fancy forest mansions. where do they find them. how many do they have

so Deku’s dropping them -- very roughly, not sure if he was reacting to finally getting AFO’s location, or if his energy really is giving out -- and now Nagant’s saying that AFO hired other villains as well. well of course he did. gotta keep chipping away at OFA’s ninth successor little by little

now Nagant is asking Hawks how he’s able to keep making “that” face. I assume she’s again talking about the fact that he somehow didn’t let the HPSC wear down his spirit

oh my god???

thanks for stuffing this chapter to the brim with good nutritional Hawks Feels, Horikoshi. what a good. he just keeps on trudging forward undeterred no matter what bullshit comes his way. what a steadfast little guy. I WILL PROTECT YOU FROM DISCOURSE MY SWEET SUNSHINE

lmaoooo

“SPOTTED THIS DUDE JUST CHILLING OUT THERE ON THE ROOF WITH NO ARMS, SEEMED PRETTY SUS” good job Endeavor

anyway so you don’t really need me to tell you that Overhaul is immediately starting in with the “BUT THE BOSS WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO TAKE ME TO THE BOSS YOU PROMISED YOU WOULD TAKE ME TO THE BOSS” stuff again. but I will go ahead and tell you anyway. so yeah. he’s doing that

OMG YOU GUYS LOOK AT DEKU’S “of all the fucking assholes to just randomly drop in on my life once again why did it have to be you” FACE THOUGH, OMG

fun fact, if you go back to chapters 124 through 160, there was an entire story arc where Overhaul imprisoned and tortured a little girl. yeah, I know!! suuuuuuuuper evil. anyways just an interesting little anecdote for you all that’s somewhat relevant to the current situation

OMG, YES. FUCK YES, DEKU

THEN WHAT ABOUT SPARING ONE FOR HER!!! YES!!! EXACTLY!!! JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, SOMEONE GETS IT

HERE’S THE PANEL OF DEKU SAYING THE EXACT SAME THING I’M SAYING LOL

(ETA: so apparently there’s some discourse about this because some people are interpreting this as Deku saying “you should apologize to Eri”, which would obviously be a terrible idea even if Overhaul actually wanted to do that, because Eri shouldn’t ever have to see him again. however I just want to point out that there is a HUGE difference between saying “it would be nice if you could direct that feeling of regret/being sorry towards Eri as well”, vs saying “you should also apologize to her.” all Deku is doing is rightfully pointing out that Overhaul has hurt way more people than just his boss, and if he really is remorseful, then he should extend those feelings of remorse to Eri and the rest as well. it’s not a directive to take any specific action, and I’m 1000% sure no one at U.A. would let Overhaul within 100 miles of Eri ever again.

tl;dr “try feeling remorse sometime” =/= “do you want me to fly you over to U.A. right now to surprise the little girl you traumatized”, lol.)

[slings an arm around Deku’s shoulders] you’re a good kid. I like you. I don’t know if I tell you that enough, but it’s true

meanwhile here is Overhaul’s “spare... a thought... for Eri...???????” face sigh

the struggle is real y’all

(ETA: and that’s... the last we ever saw of Overhaul, I guess? well all right then. I assume Deku will make good on his promise, so we know he’ll get that little bit of closure before going back to jail or whatever, and I confess I’m more than fine with leaving the rest of it open-ended, especially given his character’s history. I think this was pretty generous all things considered.)

lmao holy shit

All Might what did you do to those tiki torch guys?? did you thrash them. did you give ‘em those hands. did you deliver their own asses to them complete with a sticker reminding them Amazon Prime Day is on June 21. we missed out goddammit

so Endeavor, who wasn’t the one he was asking, is telling him that they captured (well let’s be real, Deku captured, give the credit where it’s due) Nagant and Overhaul. and so I guess they’re going to take Nagant to the ER now

fire is no one’s weakness

-- oh my GOD I scrolled down and audibly gasped

[is politely but firmly approached and asked to remove my arm from Deku’s shoulder by the physical manifestation of all this Dekuangst] “we’re sorry, he’s not allowed to have visitors right now” oh shit, my bad. [goes to stand behind a police barricade]

lmao what. did you run out of room on the previous page

what an exaggerated fade to black lmao

-- AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

I actually can’t see what he’s reacting to so maybe I’m just seriously jumping the gun here lol, but THE HELL WITH IT. the next panel appears to be a cut to Haibori Forest, so I’m just gonna go ahead and declare that Deku ran off on his own all wounded to go have more Dekuangst, just like I manifested. now go call Katsuki goddammit

[scrolls three more inches down] oh

yeah so like I said, Deku is walking very slowly a few feet in front of Endeavor, who’s telling him to wait up. yep. we’ve all gotta be so careful to not just jump to conclusions. I know we’re excited but still

anyway, so! welcome back to Mt. Lady and Kamui Woods (ARE YOU GUYS DATING) and Edgeshot! have fun walking into this obvious trap lol

dammit Deku why are you so determined to tempt fate

[monkey puppet meme faces]

OH MY GOD THIS IS PURE GRADE-A CHEESY COMIC BOOK VILLAIN 101 SHIT AND I’M HERE FOR IT

that’s such a weird way of clapping who claps like that

unlike certain other people who shan’t be named, AFO doesn’t feel the need to inexplicably take his shirt off when recording sinister villain monologues. I think we’re all pretty grateful for that

high fives to everyone who called it!! yep yep

anyway so this whole scene has major booby-trap vibes, which I’m enjoying immensely even though I don’t think anything is really going to come of it lol. probably just another long-winded AFO Speech. but wouldn’t it be funny if like the ceiling started lowering down to try and squish Deku afterwards lol

(ETA: well the explosion was still pretty funny too ngl.)

ffff

[“Dekuangst is the trap” intensifies]

anyway so yeah. he’s just hitting up all of his usual villain talking points. we get it, you’re so smart and you see right through the thin veneers of society and people who don’t conform are left to fend for themselves and labeled as villains and history is written by the victors, and blah blah blah dude are you just jumping randomly from one soundbyte to another lol. literally what are you talking about. what does this have to do with you blowing up Nagant

-- holy shit??

[”Dekuangst is the trap” intensifies MORE?????]

LOL WHAT

BRO. WHAT IS WITH YOU. DON’T YOU KNOW HOW TO LAY ANY OTHER KIND OF FUCKING TRAP GOOD LORD

“YOU’RE NEXT” THE CALLBACK?? THE PARALLELS?? THOUGH WHEN ALL MIGHT POINTED HE MADE IT LOOK WAY COOLER. AFO’S POINTING JUST LOOKS LIKE SMOKEY THE BEAR

HAS ANYONE CHECKED IN ON KAMUI WOODS I HEAR HE IS WEAK TO FIRE?? THE ONLY ONE WHO IS, APPARENTLY

r.i.p. to this particular forest mansion. don’t worry they have a ton of backups

remember last week when I said maybe AFO thinks explosions are gauche. well never mind. he fucking loves explosions

anyway so that’s the end of BnHA, everyone. hope you enjoyed. it was a good ride while it lasted. see you all, good luck in your travels

[elocinnicole]

Fool For you: A Love Story in Four Acts Part Two

Pairing: Daveed Diggs x Black!Reader Rating: M for language and suggestive conversations Word Count: 4K Summary: A Look into Daveed and Reader's Relationship

Series Masterlist Part Three

May 2015

Who lives Who dies Who tells your story

You didn’t even realize you were crying until the tears started clouding your vision. You immediately stood to your feet and applauded as the cast took their bows and left the stage. You were able to get amazing seats thanks to a friend who was in the ensemble. He had been begging you to come see the show everyone was raving about, not really being interested in Broadway you kept saying you were busy until he called you literally two hours before the show and said he was going on for one of the principal roles that night. Being the supportive friend you are you made sure you were at the show. I mean seriously, free front row tickets to one of the hottest shows on Broadway. Once you thought about it that way, you would be a fool to pass it up. Your friend texted you to meet him in the lobby and he would take you backstage to meet everyone.

After waiting a few minutes, you saw your friend, Jamar running toward you.

“You were so good tonight, Aaron Burr!” You said jokingly

“Chile, stop it. You ain’t got to do all that. I’m just glad you were able to finally come to a show, Ms. I work all the time.”

“Whatever, be lucky I love you enough to give up my only night off this week to come to this three-hour-long show.”

“Girl I saw you crying in the audience, you loved it.” You playfully rolled your eyes, but he was right, the show was amazing

“OMG, it’s like one of the greatest things I’ve ever seen!” You punched him in the shoulder, “why didn’t you tell me it was that good!”

“Girl, why the hell it take you so long? Everybody and they Mama talking about Hamilton. Come on, I want you to meet some of my friends.”

Once you made it backstage you were surprised by the way it looked, not that you were expecting a hotel lobby but you thought it was more than stairs and dressing rooms. Jamar pulled you into a room with the other male ensemble members, you met two guys named Ephraim and Andrew, who had you laughing every five minutes. Then Jamar dragged you to the ladies' ensemble dressing room and where you almost fangirled over Ariana, you were a huge fan of So You Think You Can Dance in your younger years and were in an uproar when they sent her home first. Lastly, Jamar pulled you into a room where almost everyone seemed to be hanging out in.

“Sup y’all! This my bestie!” Jamar said introducing you to his castmates

“Hey, bestie!” You heard them call out to you. Jamar introduced you to everyone in the jam-packed room. While you were talking to Jasmine and Renee you felt like someone was staring at you, quickly glancing up, you didn’t see anyone.

“Jamar, why didn’t you bring her around sooner?” Oak, asked loudly. Even though this was your first time meeting Jamar’s friends, you didn’t feel like a stranger they just welcomed you with open arms.

“Yeah we like her better than yo ass,” Anthony joked,

“Whatever, Y/N, you coming out with us?”

“I can’t, I have floor set tomorrow.” You just landed this great job at Macy’s right in Times Square as a part of their Design Team which meant countless hours of Floor Sets. With it being close to the Holidays, you were in charge of the Floor Set this year. The chorus of boos that rang throughout the room made you laugh.

“Come one just for one drink, it won’t be long.”

“Fine,”

Well, of course, one drink turned into three rounds of drinks. Looking at the time you really had to leave. After saying bye to everyone and calling your Uber you searched the small bar for Jamar, wanting him to walk you out.

“Uh, I think he went to the bathroom,” A voice said behind you, you turned and saw Daveed leaning against the bar. When you saw him on stage you couldn’t help but notice how attractive he is, oh shit, now you’re openly staring at him. Hopefully, he doesn’t realize you’re staring at him. Daveed smirked and let out a chuckle, he definitely noticed the staring.

“Um sorry, I zoned out for a bit. Uh, I was hoping Jamar would walk me out. My Uber is on the way,”

“I can walk you out,”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I was bout to roll out anyway, I just closed my tab. Besides I don’t want you out in the cold.”

“Okay,”

The two stood on the sidewalk waiting for the Uber, in the meantime, you got a chance to talk and get to know one another.

“Jamar was telling me that you’re a rapper?” Daveed let out a nervous chuckle and scratched the back of his neck

“Uhhh, yeah, I have a group, not many people really follow us.”

“What’s the name?”

“Clippng.”

“Clippng? I saw you guys at AfroPunk last year!”

“Oh shit, for real?”

“Yes, I, um, really liked y’all set. Like I became a super fan after seeing you perform.”

“So you was like our fan club president?” Daveed teased,

“Whatever, but I really enjoyed the songs you guys performed,”

“You may have been the only person in the audience that liked our performance, we weren’t invited back this year.” He joked, “I mean not everyone likes the type of music we make, I love rapping but acting pays the bills. I would love to make music all day but this light bill due, you feel me?” Daveed laughed

“I fuck with that, I mean don’t get me wrong I really like designing and creating but what I really fucks with is cooking.”

“Oh, shit? You know I’m always down for some good food.”

“Well, maybe one day—aw fuck are you kidding me?”

“What?”

“My Uber made a wrong turn, now it’s gonna be like ten more minutes.”

“That’s cool I don’t mind waiting longer, besides I wanna hear more about clippng’s only superfan.”

“Uhh, I think some Hamilton fans got me beat,”

As luck would have it, your original Uber driver ended up canceling on you and now the next one wouldn’t arrive for another fifteen minutes. You instantly felt bad when you told Daveed the Uber was taking longer than planned, you didn’t want to keep him out too late. I mean, the man performs in a high-energy musical 8 times a week, he needs his rest.

“You can go, Daveed, I’m actually about to call another Uber. It’s getting late,”

“Nah, I’m cool. I don’t mind waiting with you.”

“Are you sure?” At that moment Anthony, Jasmine, and Renee stumbled out of the bar laughing at whatever Anthony probably said. They all stopped when they saw you and Daveed standing close to one another

“I was wondering where you two went,” Jasmine said wiggling her eyebrows

“I was just waiting with her for her Uber.”

“Mhmm, for thirty minutes?” Renee questioned

“My Uber got lost,”

“Do you wanna Uber with us? You live in Brooklyn right?” Jasmine offered

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I can just add your stop after Ant gets dropped off. Our Uber is literally down the street.”

“Thank you so much, you really don’t have to do that.”

“Girl, bye, you Jamar’s friend, so you’re practically family at this point,” Jasmine said,

“NayNay, you good?” Daveed asked

“Yeah, I’m Ubering home too, they should be here soon,” Renee responded with a knowing look on her face.

“Y/N, the Uber’s here,” Jasmine said eying the two of you suggestively

“Thanks for waiting with me Daveed.”

“Anything for my number one fan,” Daveed smiled warmly at you, making you blush

“Y/N, I don’t think you can ride Diggs dick home,” Anthony called from the car,

“Bye,” You said quickly before getting in the Uber. Daveed waited until the car got down the street he turned and saw Renee smirking at him

“What?”

“Nothing, see you tomorrow, Diggs.”

August 2015

You cheered with Renee, Daniel, and Ephraim as the three of you took what was your fourth? Fifth? You couldn’t remember after three how many shots you had taken. It was the opening night party of Hamilton, and it was the best party you’ve ever been to. Even better than GHOE with your best friend, well, maybe not GHOE, but still, this is an amazing party. There were so many celebrities your mind couldn’t even being to comprehend the faces you were seeing at this party.

“Enjoying yourself?” The voice from behind made you choke on your shot, coughing you turned around to see Daveed, worriedly looking at you. Fuck, of course, it was Daveed, and here you are, about cough up a damn lung. He patted your back, concern plastered on his face.

“You okay?” You nodded, still trying to catch a breath

“Y/N put your arms in the air,” Renee suggested in the most motherly tone ever.

“I’m fine,” You managed to get out in between the coughs

“Ay, yo, can I get a water please?” Daveed asked the bartender, by now a small crowd was forming and you couldn’t be more embarrassed. Daveed shoved a glass of water in your face, you begrudgingly grabbed the glass and took a few sips. The coughing fit finally over, you exhaled.

“You okay, sweetie?” Renee asked

“Yeah, I’m fine, embarrassed, but I’m fine.”

“Damn, Y/N, saw Diggs and can’t control herself,” Daniel joked making Ephraim laugh, you were a blushing mess because that’s literally what happened, Renee picked up on the look on yours and Daveed’s face

“Alright, let’s leave her alone. Come on guys,” Renee sent you a wink before ushering Daniel and Ephraim away

“Sorry about that,” Daveed apologized

“It’s fine, I was just startled,”

“So, are you having fun?”

“I should be asking you that, Mr. Broadway star.” Daveed chuckled

“Shit’s crazy, I mean just a year ago I could barely pay my rent, now I’m in the same room as Samuel L. Jackson.” Daveed mused

“Well, you deserve to bask in the moment, Mr. Diggs.” You said raising a glass, you were taking a sip of your water when you noticed that Daveed was full-on staring at you. You furrowed your eyebrows when he reached his hand out. You were backing away when his other hand grabbed your arm

“Hold on, there’s something in your hair.” You held your breath while Daveed fixed your hair

“There, beautiful.” Daveed smiled softly

“Thanks,” You replied, barely above a whisper

“Enjoy your night,” Daveed said before walking away, leaving you speechless

“Girl, what the fuck was that?” Renee asked walking up to you

“Nothing.” Renee gave you a knowing look “Renee, it was nothing. Come on, walk with me to the bathroom, I need help with my zipper.”

“I don’t know why you’re asking me, should’ve asked Daveed.”

December 2015

After a few months of coming around the theater, you and Daveed have grown from strangers to a nice “friendship”. The majority of your interactions with Daveed were extremely flirtatious. Whenever someone saw you backstage they would give you a knowing look or say,

“Your boyfriend’s waiting for you!”

“Diggs’ girlfriend is here!”

Most of the times when you were at the theater Daveed had invited you, which was actually a pretty awkward situation the one time Jamar saw you chilling in Daveed’s dressing room during intermission one Saturday night. Whenever you weren’t working you were either at the theater or hanging with the cast. Now you were sitting in Daveed’s dressing room waiting for him to get out of the bathroom. You had come straight here after work; you were supposedly going out to dinner with Daveed and some of the cast members. You wished you brought a change of clothes after the day you had at work, you wanted to get out of your work clothes. You made it to the theater about thirty minutes before the end of the show, but even with sitting in Daveed’s dressing room, you were anything but relaxed.

“You good?”

“I just want to change my clothes. I wish I'd known earlier I would've gone home and met you guys for dinner.” You and Daveed don’t have each other’s number so when you found out about dinner plans, you were already at the theater, and with it being towards the end of Act II, you didn’t have time and particularly didn’t want, to go home because you would've gotten one look at your bed and fallen asleep.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when Daveed tossed a sweater in your lap, confused you gave him a questioning look.

“Put it on, it's not much but you'll be comfortable."

"Oh, okay. Thanks."

"You can change in the bathroom, I'll wait out here."

When you reemerged from the bathroom Daveed was sitting on the small couch in the room, fully dressed. The look he gave you sent butterflies to your stomach.

"How do I look?"

"You cute, I like it on you." He smiled

This man was going to be the death of you.

"I can wash it and give it back to you."

"Nah, it's cool. Keep it, I like away it looks on you. Come on, everything's waiting for us."

February 2016

You were on your fourth shot of Jim Beam while everyone celebrated the Grammy win, you screamed and cried when it was announced that Hamilton had won the Grammy, you were so proud of these people that you now consider family.

“Y/N! Dance with me!” Jasmine called over the thumping of the bass that filled the club, not given a chance to decline, Jasmine dragged you out onto the dance floor. You looked up and saw Daveed looking at you over the top of his glass. You sent him a playful wink before dancing again. You looked up again and frowned when you didn’t see Daveed by the bar anymore. You were having so much fun you didn’t even notice someone coming behind you. You really didn’t mind, you’ve had guys come up to you all the time while you were out, as long as they were respectful.

When the song changed to Rhianna’s “Kiss It Better” That’s when the person behind you placed their hands on your hips. That made you turn your head around and there was Daveed. He sent you a wink, damn, why is he so fine and he knows it, you thought. It may have been the alcohol or the sexual tension between the two of you that had reached its limit but you started slowly whining against him. He gripped your hips a little tighter making you smirk a little. A few songs went by and you and Daveed were in your own world in the corner of the dance floor you weren’t sure if anyone had left but you didn’t care. You and Daveed look into each other’s eyes and before you knew it he pressed his lips against yours.

The two of you ignored the excited looks and cheering from your friends.

“Yeeeerrrrr!” Anthony said loudly

“Don’t hurt him, sis!” You were the first to pull away, both of you giving each other “that look” before you knew you were being dragged out the bar and outside. Daveed whipped out his phone and quickly called an Uber before smashing his lips back to yours. It wasn’t until a car honked its horn that you were able to pull yourself away.

“Are you Daveed?” Daveed nodded and quickly pulled you into the Uber before it drove off.

July 2016

It was now Summertime; Kendall and Daveed had been dating for a few months now and it’s honestly the happiest she's ever been. Still keeping it a secret, the two of them took these last few months to really get to know each other. Kendall was taking her 15-minute break at her job when a notification came in from Instagram.

Daveed Diggs to Leave Hamilton to Work on New TV Show in LA

She frowned, Daveed didn’t mention anything about a TV Show, she knew that he would eventually leave Hamilton his last show was tomorrow night. He couldn’t stay in New York forever and Kendall knew that but still, she thought he would talk to her about it. Kendall shook your head, she's probably overreacting. Someone could’ve leaked this just to get a story, she knows Daveed would’ve told her about it. Shaking it off, she went back to work.

Later that night you were in your apartment with a glass of wine and take out binge-watching Grey’s Anatomy. Even though you've seen it about fifty times, you always cried at the season three finale when Yang has her breakdown. A knock at the door made you smile, you got up and practically skipped to the door, ecstatic to see your boyfriend standing on the other side.

“Hey babe,” You greeted, smiling into a kiss, Daveed deepened it walking you backward. He kicked the door shut with his foot while he blindingly led you to your bedroom where the two of you fell onto the bed. As much as you were excited to see Daveed you couldn’t get it out of your head that Daveed didn’t even tell you he was taking on another project. You knew about Blindspotting but why not share the news about the TV Show. Sensing your mind was somewhere else, Daveed sat up with a concerned look on your face.

“You good?” You sat up and moved over so you were looking at Daveed. Letting out a shaky breath, you hated confrontation and having hard conversations.

“I saw a post today that said you were working on a new TV Show.” Daveed chuckled nervously

“I didn’t want to tell you until I was sure.”

“So, it’s true?”

“Uh, yeah. I’m going to LA in about a week.”

“When were you going to tell me, your last show is tomorrow.” Daveed sighed heavily

“Y/N/N, I don’t want to talk about this right now.”

“So when is the time to talk about it?”

“I don’t know, not right now, I just got off work.” Daveed leaned in but she backed away

“I mean, I just don’t see why you didn’t tell me?”

“Because it wasn’t worth talking about.”

“Daveed, you’re going to LA in a week and you didn’t think we had to talk about it?”

“I was going to talk to you about it, eventually.”

“When was eventually? After you fuck me and leave?”

“Yo, where is all of this coming from?” Daveed stood up from the bed “I was going to tell you about it after my last show!”

"Which is tomorrow!"

"Y/N," Daveed whined, "really, right now, you wanna have this talk now?"

“Daveed, you weren’t gonna say shit until I said something.” You were now standing up, you and Daveed face inches away from one another.

“I’m not about to do this with you, right now. I gotta go,” Daveed stormed out with you hot on his tracks.

“Daveed we are not done with this conversation.”

"What else do you want me to say?"

"I don't know! Something, anything."

"Y/N/N, this doesn't have to change our relationship."

"But it does, you said you were coming back to the City after the movie. You doing a TV Show changes things."

"I don't think it does!"

"Come on Daveed, we've been avoiding inevitable since the day you told me about your last show. Now we have to face the inevitable," You let out a shaky breath holding back the urge to cry.

"Y/N/N, it's gonna be fine."

"How do I know that?"

"What?"

"Daveed, you won't even tell m about a fucking TV Show. How am I supposed to trust you while you're away for months!"

"Come the fuck on, Y/N. I've never given you a reason to doubt me, this is the same fucking fight we've been having the past two months. You don't trust me!"

"I don't! Daveed you don't talk to me!"

"That's a lie, Y/N/N."

"Is it? You didn't tell me about Blindspotting, Jasmine told me on accident. Daveed, you don't even tell me about those interviews. You talk to everyone else before me."

"So if you can't trust me, then what the hell are we doing?"

"I don't know."

"I'm gone." Daveed stomped out of your apartment slamming the door shut behind him.

You went to Daveed’s show the next day and even though you were still mad at him, she was still happy for him and his run at Hamilton. You became teary-eyed when the audience roared with applause while he took his final bow.

You knocked on Daveed’s dressing room hoping to talk to him especially after last night. Anthony opened the door and gave her a sympathetic smile

“Hey, Anthony, is um, Daveed in there?”

“Um, he just left, I think he went to his place.” You couldn’t hide her disappointment, he didn’t wait for you.

“But, I think he said something about hitting you up later.”

“Oh, okay. I’ll see you around,”

You can’t lie, it hurt like a bitch that Daveed left without saying anything, maybe he didn’t know she was at the show. You hadn’t talked to him since yesterday, but Daveed couldn’t think that you wouldn’t come to support him at his last show. Would he?

The whole train ride from the theater to Daveed’s place was anything but relaxing. Finally, you stood in front of his door, sighing heavily you knocked on his door. No answer, maybe he was in the shower. You knocked again, heavier this time.

“He’s gone.”

“Gone?” You whipped your head around to see Daveed’s landlord

“He’s gone,”

“Yeah, you said that when did he leave?”

“He dropped his keys off and sent his last check this morning. Haven’t seen ‘im since.”

You walked out of the apartment building in disbelief, she can’t believe he did that. You thought he would at least say goodbye, he didn’t even say goodbye, he could’ve at least said goodbye. You didn’t even mean that much to him for him to say goodbye to you.

You made it back home and headed straight to her room. As soon as your body hit the bed, you broke and sobbed into your pillow. Kendall hasn’t felt a hurt like this in a while, you opened up to him and he just ripped your heart out. The least he could’ve done was say goodbye.

Tagging: @nikole-witha-k

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

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[jodibodie]

I Have Some Feelings

To start let me just emphasize how much I love and adore this show and always will. This was my covid show. Both of my kids loved “Lucifer” and always said I should watch so at the start of covid I binged it and when I say binged, I mean all 4 seasons in a few days and have rewatched so many times I’ve lost count. I think it is timeless, engrossing, original and all around amazing. The writing and the cast were all excellent. The writing was smart and consistently strong and that is so rare.  Funny, sad, poignant, it hit all the notes with very few plot holes or missteps. There is not one episode in the entire series that was not engaging. Even if I didn’t like an episode, it was still well done. What a rarity.

The cast is scary good. Completely underrated. Just all phenomenally talented.  I don’t remember the last time a cast was this strong.  From the core group to both reoccurring and guest stars, the cast was just fantastic.  

Tom Ellis, no words.  The man deserves to choose whatever he wants to do acting wise. He should have people breaking down his door. He can truly do it all and do it all well. He took a character that if portrayed by a lesser actor could have come off as a complete asshole and made him one of the most sympathetic and loveable characters in recent history. Ellis made a crime solving devil, a promiscuous man-child that occasionally breaks into song and the evidence room into a beloved character that has become an icon.  

Lauren German, WOW.  She is just so damn good. She can break your heart one second and have you laughing the next. She makes Chloe real, and people don’t realize how hard that is. Chloe is smart, kind, tough and gorgeous but she’s also an insecure dork.  She’s us and German just brings it.  

DB Woodside I’ve loved since “Buffy”.  He is a phenomenal actor and who knew he could bring the laughs so well? His expressions were classic. Clueless angel indeed. Amenadiel could have been very one-dimensional but because of Woodside’s talent he became fully fleshed out and full bodied.  

I have no doubt Lesley-Ann Brandt has a huge career in front of her.  She took a character that very well could have been hated, a demon and made her into one of the most human characters on the show. Kudos to her for taking a tough role and making it her own.  

Kevin Alejandro is another actor I’ve loved for a long time.  He also took a character who if we’re going to be honest here did so many unlikeable things that he should have been truly despised but because of Kevin’s portrayal he was beloved. Great actor and a terrific director.

Rachael Harris IMO is the downlow MVP.  She was literally the rock and again, with a lesser actress the role could have been a throwaway. The normal human, the sounding board but Harris imbued her with so much more.  Her spit takes, sarcasm and her obvious compassion was what made Dr. Linda an unforgettable character. Once again just perfect casting.  

Aimee Garcia was a great addition. She made Ella a fan fav and put so much heart, joy and sincerity into Ella never once did you doubt that she would prevail no matter what was thrown at her.  Garcia was just fantastic, and I want her skin care regime.  

Scarlett Estevez pulled off the one thing I thought almost impossible.  She took the role of a young child and made it so I didn’t want to cringe. She portrayed Trixie so beautifully from day one that she was a true pleasure to watch.  Even though Trixie was super precocious Estevez never made her obnoxious. I loved Trixie and I have never said that about any child character in an adult show.  She was wonderful and has an amazing career in front of her.

That said, I’ve got some feelings now that I’ve seen the finale and have had some time to digest it all.  I love that Chloe and Lucifer had eternity and I agree that they had to be separated for Chloe’s lifetime. Didn’t like it but it’s the logical path. She’s human, he’s not. The ageing thing alone necessitated them not being together long term on earth and that’s just to start the list. They had to had to be apart for the short term to get their eternity but the duality of Lucifer's ending and Amenadiel's didn't sit right. Amenadiel as God got to have it all. His calling, his family etc. while Lucifer had to give up everything.  I also don’t buy the “If he came up from hell, he could never leave them again” defense.  I call bullshit.  Amenadiel managed, plus, missing out on the day to day is a huge sacrifice and by Lucifer missing out on the day-to-day Rory could still have had the hatred she needed to drive the story.  Popping in for birthdays, graduations, weddings, etc., the big stuff does not a father make.  Not being there for skinned knees, first heartbreaks, and all the little things a daughter needs her dad for can build up tons of resentment.  Boom, absentee father, just like his dad was. That provides all the millennial angel angst you could ask for. I have a daughter; it doesn’t take much.

The Trixie issue was huge for me. Can Chloe see her in Heaven? Will she be able to travel to Heaven and visit Trixie, Penelope, Dan, her father?  Chloe hesitated leaving Heaven in 5x16 because she couldn’t bear saying good-bye to her dad again. It seems as if Chloe sacrificed everything for Rory including Trixie. I want to preface this by saying. I liked Rory and loved the actress. I didn’t however like how it was as if she were their only child.  When Lucifer spoke of family Trixie was not mentioned. Their family day, the same thing. She didn’t need to be there, I get that the explanation regarding Rory would have been way too much to get into but just a mention of her, how awesome it would have been to share this day with her would have worked. It seemed as if Lucifer went from, “I would do anything to protect that little Urchin” to “Trixie who”. Trixie was a character that we watched grow up and she meant something to us. I hate to say this, but the writers did Trixie and the viewers dirty in this regard.

This show was built around a few premises.  Free will, honesty, redemption, sacrifice and family, both blood and made. The ending completely negated almost all of these.  Chloe and their entire family were made into the one thing Lucifer abhorred the most which are liars. Their daughter was brought up surrounded by lies. What did they tell Trixie?  The poor kid just lost her dad, and she was pissed at Lucifer when he went back to hell the first time. Did she grow up hating him because as far as she knew Lucifer left her mom again without saying good-bye and this time it was even worse because Chloe was pregnant.  I get that the actress who plays Trixie had limited availability but seriously. A quick good-bye.

“Hey Urchin, you won’t understand why for a long time, but I have to leave. You know I never lie so I can’t explain why but know that I love you and your mom and one day I hope you can forgive me.”  

A 30 second scene would have worked.

As all the characters learned throughout the series, omission of the truth is just a form of lying and there are always repercussions i.e., Chloe and Father Kinley, Dan shooting Lucifer, Maze finding out about Lilith and even Ella not being told. As far as free will, both Chloe and Lucifer had their free will taken from them in the end. By Rory forcing them to abide by her wishes, their free will was forfeited. It was a huge manipulation on Rory’s part and considering how much Lucifer hated manipulations it just didn’t sit right.

Parents making huge sacrifices I get. Chloe and Lucifer sacrificed everything for their child. Unfortunately for me this sacrifice, the way it was written seemed contrived to pull out maximum and IMO unjustified angst. I love angst.  Hell, this is my favorite show.  I thrive on the angst. But as I wrote earlier, all the anger, angst and hatred towards Lucifer could have been achieved without having Lucifer completely out of the picture. I have two kids and my husband, and I have made huge life altering sacrifices for them as many parents do but being there for the day-to-day little things was what made the difference in their lives and cemented the close relationships we have with them.

“Yeah, dad you were great. Showing up for the fun stuff, always swooping in for the big finish to play the hero then ditching us when things got tough. When Grandma was dying where were you?  Nice that you showed up for the funeral but the six months leading up to it…we needed you and once again you weren’t there. When T got sick, when Jen broke my heart, blah, blah, blah…”

Even the whole Chloe dying scenario. They could have written it that rage Rory traveled minutes before Lucifer got there. Have him pop in right after Rory comes back. There were so many ways to achieve the end game they wanted other than the way they went. It seemed contrived and as if they took the easy way out to get where they needed to go. The Rory rage that was the catalyst for her traveling back in time and Lucifer finding his calling could still have been accomplished without the whole Lucifer disappearing storyline.

Now that I’ve finished my diatribe there’s a couple of additional things I would like to say.  Lucifer is and always will be one of my favorite shows of all time. There are not enough words to describe the comfort and enjoyment this show has brought me. Thank you, thank you, thank you to the producers, cast and crew. You truly created something special.

To the fandom. Please do not let a polarizing conclusion rip apart the fandom. The only other fandom I was a part of tore itself apart so badly that the FBI got involved.  Hence why I waited for 15 years to dip my toe in again. Everyone invested in this show has the right to their feelings.  Debate is fine, baiting and bullying are not. The Lucifer fandom like the show is very special. Without the fandom we wouldn’t have gotten any conclusion so don’t let opposing viewpoints tarnish what has been a magical journey.  

[entertainment]

Entertainment Spotlight: Gerald Isaac Waters, All Together Now

Tennessee-native Gerald Isaac Waters portrays Chad in All Together Now, Netflix’s film adaptation of Brett Haley’s book Sorta Like a Rock Star. Gerald is known for his role in TBS’s Angie Tribeca, has modeled for campaigns with Target and Zappos, and has also featured in New York Fashion Week. In 2015, Gerald had an accident that left him paralyzed from the neck down, which confined him to a wheelchair. Despite being told by his doctors that he was unlikely to regain movement, he has regained most movement in his upper body and continues to progress. Aside from his acting and modeling career, Gerald’s interests include surfing, boxing, baseball, and wine. 

Can you tell us a bit about your character Chad in All Together Now? What drew you to the role?

My character 'Chad Fox' can be described as a devout friend, charming and determined. The thing that drew me most to this role was the message of friendship. I personally cherish my friends deeply, and I saw that in Chad as well. I knew I could bring parts of myself into this character and bring him to life.

Do you have any fun facts or funny stories about the making of the film?

There is a fun fact I can share!! There is a certain upbeat song from one scene that got stuck into EVERYONE'S head for days after we finished the scene! It is so catchy and repetitive that you catch yourself humming it or singing aloud before you know it! So, needless to say, our lunch breaks were quite musical.

What inspired you to get into acting? Were you ever part of a drama club at school?

My first intro to acting was the church Christmas play my mom was directing. I was 12 years old, and my best friend's mom played my mother in the play. She shared some great advice I’ve taken with me to every acting gig I’ve gotten since. To this day, every role I land, I call her, and we talk about where it all began! 

The first drama club I was a part of happened in my senior year in high school. I joined my town's community theatre in a production of Bye Bye Birdie. That’s when I knew I wanted to pursue acting wholeheartedly!

What’s the most important lesson you’ve learned in your life this far?

The most important lesson in life I’ve learned this far is that a determined mind, body, and spirit can conquer even the most difficult obstacles! There’s something so rewarding about setting a goal, big or small, and seeing it through at all costs.

Is there anyone in the industry right now who you look up to or whose work you particularly enjoy?

I definitely look up to Neil Patrick Harris. From his work in television to film, Broadway, and an all-time host, he is a person I can inspire to be. Whenever I put on a show he is in, I know that I’ll end up laughing and feeling a little better than when I started watching. That is something I would love to be able to do; give people a sense of relief from whatever they are going through.

Do you have any advice for young wheelchair users who hope to have a career in acting?

My advice for young actors in the wheelchair community is DO NOT GIVE UP! Keep pushing and striving toward that goal. Don’t listen to your inner saboteur. Keep following the dream and make your voice heard!

If you could change anything about the world right now, what would that be, and why?

If I could change one thing about the world right now, it would be our lack of empathy. It is unfortunate that we are still treating human beings differently solely on the facts of race, origin, and religious beliefs. As a people, we find ourselves now with a bigger voice and platform to raise awareness and keep people accountable for their actions. Using our voices, I believe we can start practicing love and acceptance and build a bridge that can connect us all as equals!

If a theme song played whenever you entered a room, what song would it be?

Trying to pin down one theme song to play every time I entered a room is tough.  I think instead, I would settle for having a 90’s theme laugh track for every entrance. How fun would that be!

What’s next for you?

What is next for me is a question I love because, honestly, the sky’s the limit! I do have a couple of projects coming up that I cannot wait to discuss. But an immediate goal of mine is to be a series regular on a show, just so I get to say “Previously on...” I can’t really explain why but that’s something I’ve wanted to be able to say for quite some time!!

Thanks for taking the time, Gerald! All Together Now is now (all together) streaming on Netflix. 

Photo: Kelly Balch

[longitudinalwaveme]

The Man in the Mirror

Sam Scudder, the costumed crook known as the Mirror Master, accidentally swaps places with Dr. Samuel Scudder, the heroic Mirror Master of a mirror dimension and a man who is everything he isn't: a beloved hero, a skilled optometrist, and a devoted husband and father.

Sam never went to medical school, and knows he isn't exactly a good role model for kids. Dr. Scudder, for his part, isn't particularly thrilled to be stuck behind bars for the crimes of his counterpart. Can the two men find a way to reverse the switch, or will each be doomed to live out the other man's life?

Dr. Samuel Scudder, an optometrist who had achieved much greater fame as the Mirror Master, had visited a number of alternate realities over the years. Not only was traveling to alternate realities part and parcel of being a superhero who helped to save the world, but he also had stumbled onto dozens of them as the result of his constant experimentation with the Mirror Realm. However, this particular trip had gone disastrously wrong. While he was no stranger to accidentally transporting himself to alternate dimensions, he had always been able to transport himself back to his own reality with little difficulty. This time, it was as though the Mirror Realm had closed part of itself off. While he was still able to use it to traverse across this dimension, when he had tried to transport himself back home, a wave of energy had ejected him from the Realm. For all intents and purposes, he was stuck in this dimension. 

Dr. Scudder would have been dismayed to be stuck in any dimension other than his own, of course, but in most of them, he would likely have had access to resources that he could use to get himself back home via another route. This reality was far more problematic, because, as he had abruptly discovered when he had been arrested for escaping prison only a few minutes after his arrival, his counterpart in this reality was a criminal. Since he and the criminal Samuel Scudder of this dimension were physically identical, the authorities had naturally concluded that he was his counterpart and had sent him to prison in his counterpart’s place. Now that he had been mistaken for his counterpart, Dr. Scudder’s options for getting home were very limited. He couldn’t exactly go looking for help while locked up in prison, and the fact that everyone would assume that he was the Samuel Scudder of this dimension meant that few people were likely to believe a word he said, especially about something as unlikely as him being from another reality. If this had been the work of his counterpart, Dr. Scudder had to admit that the man was brilliant. Who better to get locked up in your place than someone who was for all intents and purposes your identical twin? 

“Dinner, Scudder.” The voice of one of the prison’s guards broke Dr. Scudder out of his reverie. The man shoved a tray into the cell. 

“Thank you, sir,” Dr. Scudder replied quietly. His counterpart probably wasn’t nearly so polite to the guards, but he saw no reason to be rude. The guard looked a bit surprised, but didn’t say anything as he walked away. Once he was gone, Dr. Scudder started eating the food and quickly discovered that yes, prison food was as bad as reported. In spite of the taste, however, he ate all of it; growing up on Skid Row, never knowing where his next meal might be coming from, meant that he never wasted food, no matter how poorly it tasted. 

Once he had finished his meal, he started to look around the cell to see if he could learn anything about the habits and personality of his counterpart (other than his obvious criminal tendencies). The absence of mirrors basically confirmed his suspicion that his counterpart used the same mirror technology that he did; it was likely intended to prevent any escape attempts...and was woefully inadequate for that purpose. It wasn’t just mirrors that allowed access to the Mirror Realm; any reflective surface would do. Short of locking him in a cell with no light, which seemed morally questionable at best, the only way to prevent this universe’s Samuel Scudder-or Dr. Scudder himself, for that matter-from escaping would be to spend more money than the prison’s budget likely had on technology advanced enough to counteract the effects of the mirror tech. Both he and his counterpart effectively had the power of instant teleportation; containing them was almost impossible. Dr. Scudder had never been more glad that his mother had caught on to the addiction problem he’d developed in high school after...after...no, not thinking about it-than he was right now. The amount of damage he could have done if he’d fallen into crime like this Samuel Scudder apparently had was immense. 

Further perusal of the cell uncovered a scientific tome about the nature of light that had evidently been borrowed from the prison’s library, an old JSA comic book from the same source (Dr. Scudder couldn’t help but smile at that; he’d always loved those old comics and had a pretty substantial collection of them), a picture of his counterpart with a man who strongly resembled George “Digger” Wiggins, the head of Wiggins’ Toy Company, and a mostly-complete pack of cigarettes. At the last, Dr. Scudder groaned. It had taken him several years to kick his addiction to smoking; he definitely didn’t need the temptation to fall off the wagon now. He quickly shoved the cigarettes back under the cot and, fairly certain that he’d found everything of interest in the cell, started leafing through the comic book. He was delighted to find that it was a story that he actually hadn’t read before, and was soon lost to the world, swept up in the adventures of his boyhood heroes. 

****************************************************************

Sam Scudder had broken out of prison a number of times; it was, after all, practically a prerequisite for any self-respecting supervillain. However, while his grand escapes had often gotten his name in the papers, he had to admit that being greeted by a cheering crowd shortly after breaking prison was new. 

“Mirror Master! Mirror Master!” Bewildered, but never one to turn down attention and applause, Sam waved to the crowd. The cheers and applause got louder, and a couple of children ran up to him. 

“Mr. Mirror Master, sir, could we have you autograph?” one of them asked. 

“Uh...of course, kiddo,” Sam replied. He was still a bit perplexed by the situation, but it was starting to seem oddly familiar. He signed both kids’ papers, and they beamed. 

“Wow! This is the biggest thrill of my life!” the other kid exclaimed as they excitedly ran back to a woman Sam assumed was their mother. And then it clicked. He’d been in a situation very like this one before, shortly after his initial discovery of the Mirror Realm. He had discovered a mirror reality of sorts where the Flash was a crook and his own counterpart, this universe’s Mirror Master, was a do-gooder, and had been mistaken for his counterpart by a couple of kids when he had gone to that reality in order to further a plan to defeat the Flash. Clearly, he had ended up in that reality again...but this time, he had no idea as to how it had happened. He had entered the Mirror Realm in order to transport himself closer to one of his hideouts….and when he had emerged, he had been surrounded pretty much immediately by this crowd.

Whatever the reason he had ended up here, though, he’d need to be going. As much as he loved the limelight, he had far too much to do in his own reality to stick around in this one. After signing a dozen more autographs and agreeing to have his picture taken a few times, he bade the crowd good-bye, entered the Mirror Realm, and headed back to the path he usually took to return to his own reality...only to suddenly be violently ejected from the Mirror Realm. Luckily, he wasn’t deposited back in front of the crowd, but it was still worrisome (and a bit painful). It seemed that, for whatever reason, the Mirror Realm was blocking his path back home….which meant that he was stuck in this reality. Sam groaned. The last thing he needed was to be stuck in a reality where everyone would think he was some pillar of the community or something.

The only bright spot to this mess (other than the fact that he wouldn’t have to dodge police or the Flash) was the fact that the Mirror Realm had at least deposited him next to a building that looked like the hideout he had been trying to reach in his own dimension, albeit much less dilapidated. He pulled the key to the building out of the gun holster where he stored it, discovered, to his relief, that it still unlocked the door, stepped inside the building, and pulled off his cowl. The building’s interior was much homier and more put-together than the interior of his hideout, but it was still pretty clearly the same structure. Before he could make any further observations, however, he was distracted by the sound of approaching footsteps. 

“So, my heroic husband’s finally home. It’s good to see you again, dear. How was work?” For his part, Sam barely managed to keep his jaw from dropping open. The woman standing in front of him was a perfect replica of his high school sweetheart, Jenny Conners...but if she was calling him husband , that meant that his heroic counterpart had gotten married to his Jenny! 

“Uh, hi, Jenny! Work was...work was good,” he said awkwardly. Jenny (or rather, Jenny’s counterpart) laughed. 

“In other words, Officer Snart and Dr. Dillon got into another spat about whether or not Dr. Dillon is a suitable candidate for Ms. Mayor Snart’s hand in marriage,” she said. In spite of himself, Sam smiled. Insane alternate dimension where the Golden Glider was the mayor or no, it seemed that some things remained consistent no matter where you were in the multiverse. 

“Sadly, that seems to be the argument that will never die,” Sam replied. Suddenly, he heard several more footsteps, and then three little girls rushed into the room. 

“Dad, guess what? My team won the basketball game in gym class!” 

“Do you like the way Mom fixed my hair, Dad? I can’t decide if I like it or not.” 

“Hi, Daddy!” 

Sam was thunderstruck. His do-gooder counterpart being married to his high school sweetheart had been unexpected, but really not too surprising in the grand scheme of things. The fact that he was a father, however….that he would never have predicted. 

“I didn’t quite catch that, guys. Could you repeat what you told me a little more slowly?” he asked, wondering just how much of a tell his discomfort in this situation was.

“My team won our basketball game in gym class!” The girl who said this was wearing jeans, a t-shirt that read “Centerfield Elementary Basketball”, and gym shoes, and had her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. 

“Good job,” Sam replied, unsure of what else to say. 

“I was wanting to know what you think of how Mom fixed my hair,” the second girl said. She was so like the first girl that she almost had to be her twin, but she was wearing a purple button-down and a khaki skirt, and her hair was pulled into two braids, each adorned with a purple ribbon. She was adorable. 

“You look great, sweetheart,” Sam said. His own father had died when he was a baby, so he had no idea if he sounded appropriately fatherly or not. That being said, the girl beamed, so he had at least succeeded in making her happy. 

“I was just saying hi, Daddy. I love you soooo much,” the third little girl said. She was clearly younger than the other two and was wearing a pink dress with “Daddy’s Little Princess” emblazoned on it, and before he could even respond, she had hugged him around the legs. 

“I love you, too,” Sam said weakly, feeling increasingly lousy. Posing as his counterpart was one thing when he was plotting against the Flash or receiving the plaudits of a crowd, but quite another when he was with the counterpart of his high school sweetheart (who thought that he was her husband) and her children. He needed to get out of this situation, ASAP. Luckily for him, Jenny’s counterpart (maybe he’d just call her Jennifer for the sake of simplicity) provided him with the means to escape. 

“Girls, your father has had a long day. I think he needs to rest a bit. You can tell him all about your days at dinner, but for now, why don’t you let him go to our room so that he can recover from work?” she asked. The three girls nodded.

“Thanks, Jenny,” Sam said. With that, he took off for his bedroom (or at least, where his bedroom was in his hideout) and was pleased to see that it was his counterpart’s bedroom as well. Not having to completely relearn the layout of the house was a relief. While it was much more homey and had a queen-sized double bed instead of a single one, it was still recognizably his bedroom. His counterpart even had a similar collection of JSA comics! Thrilled, he pulled one of his favorites off of the shelf and started reading it. Soon enough, his situation was temporarily forgotten as he was swept into the world of his boyhood heroes.

****************************************************

Dr. Scudder had been puzzling over why his cell, which had clearly been designed with two inhabitants in mind, had so far only held one person for a few days when two of the guards walked up to it, escorting an inmate Dr. Scudder hadn’t seen so far between them. The inmate in question was swearing quite colorfully and looked familiar, though he couldn’t quite work out why. 

“Harkness, if you don’t shut it right now, we’re putting you in solitary,” one of the guards barked. At this, the inmate stopped swearing and apparently decided to settle for giving the guards a death glare instead. 

“Here’s your cellmate, Scudder. Stay back from the door if you know what’s good for you,” the other guard said. 

“Yes, sir,” Dr. Scudder replied, prompting an odd look from the inmate. The doctor sat down on the cot that he now sincerely hoped hadn’t been intended for the new arrival, and then the guards opened the cell door, uncuffed the inmate, and pushed him inside the cell. A minute later, the doors were locked again, the guards were gone, and Dr. Scudder found himself with a cellmate.  

“Since when are you so bloody polite with the guards, Scudder?” the man demanded in a thick Australian accent. At this point, Dr. Scudder realized that the vague sense of familiarity was probably due to the fact that this was undoubtedly George Wiggins’ counterpart and the man he had seen in the photograph with his own counterpart. In other words, he was familiar with how the Samuel Scudder of this dimension ought to behave.

“I can blow this joint whenever I feel like it. Why cause extra trouble for myself before I do?” Growing up on Skid Row had given Dr. Scudder a general feel for how people talked when they were trying to be tough, but he wasn’t sure if that made him a convincing arch-thief or not. His cellmate shrugged. 

“Suit yourself, mate. Where’d you put the cigarettes? I could really use a smoko.” Dr. Scudder gestured under the cot he was sitting on, figuring that this man probably wouldn’t be terribly responsive to a lecture about the dangers of smoking, and soon afterwards, his cellmate was lighting up a cigarette.

“Strewth! I needed that. Here, you have one, mate. You look like you need it, too.” He threw the pack of cigarettes across the cell towards Dr. Scudder, who caught it on instinct, then frowned. His cellmate might well become suspicious if he didn’t light up a cigarette of his own, as his counterpart had clearly never bothered to break his addiction to smoking, but Dr. Scudder had promised his mother and Jenny that he would kick the habit, and he intended to keep that promise. How was he supposed to do that and keep his cellmate from figuring out that he wasn’t who he thought he was?  

“Not now,” he finally said. He knew himself. If he started smoking in this dimension, even to prevent his potentially-violent cellmate from getting suspicious about him, there was a good chance that he wouldn’t be able to stop. He was, after all, still technically a nicotine addict. 

“I’ll be stuffed! You don’t want a durry?” his cellmate asked. 

“I said not now!” Dr. Scudder exclaimed. 

“You don’t need to get up me, mate. You don’t have to if you don’t wanna. Just not sure when you became such a conch is all,” his cellmate replied. Although Dr. Scudder had worked with George Wiggins on occasion, who had just as much of an accent as his apparent counterpart, their paths didn’t really cross often enough for him to have a full grasp on Australian slang. As a result, he wasn’t entirely sure what his cellmate had just said. 

“Whatever,” he said, hoping that this rather brusque retort would get his cellmate to drop the subject. He was very relieved when it actually seemed to work. 

“So I’ve been thinking. The exploding and electric boomerangs are bonzer and all, but wouldn’t it be really something if we made a boomerang that coil let me teleport like your mirror gizmos do? The bloody Flash’s gotten too good at counteracting my flying ones,” his cellmate said. After a brief period of confusion, Dr. Scudder remembered that George Wiggins had a heroic alter ego named, of all things, “Captain Boomerang”. It seemed that his counterpart in this reality used the same gimmick (and, if Dr. Scudder’s counterpart was anything to go by, likely the same name as well) and was looking to upgrade his arsenal. Since the man was obviously also a crook, Dr. Scudder didn’t want to help him in this endeavor, but he needed a way to refuse without making it too obvious that he wasn’t actually the Samuel Scudder of this reality. 

“Hey, hey, hey. Teleportation is my gimmick,” he replied. In his experience, supervillains tended to be incredibly protective of whatever gimmick they used when commiting crimes, so it seemed logical to assume that his criminal counterpart would be equally protective of his gimmick.

“It’d specifically be a teleporting boomerang, mate. I’m not gonna take over your mirror thing or nothin’. That’s too weird for me, anyway,” his cellmate said. As much as Dr. Scudder wanted to protest the hypocrisy of someone who solely used weaponized boomerangs to commit-or prevent, in the case of his universe’s Captain Boomerang-crimes describing his gimmick as weird, he had to admit that there were a number of things about his tech and the Mirror Realm that he didn’t fully understand. Even when compared to weaponizing boomerangs, his tech was pretty weird. Instead, he decided to use the weirdness of his powers to his advantage. 

“If you wanted to get the effect you’re looking for, you’d have to use my weird tech. It’s the only form of teleportation any of us have access to...and even I don’t really understand it fully. In the hands of an amateur, it could be totally useless, or really hazardous to their health.” His cellmate frowned thoughtfully. 

“Yeah, that’d be right. Guess I’ll leave the freaky teleporting stuff to you, mate,” he said resignedly. 

“The Mirror Realm isnae so ‘weird’ once ye learn its rules, ye ken. Scudder’s always been tae cautious tae really explore the place, but once you do...why, ye’ll never want tae leave Wonderland,” a third voice, thick with a Scottish burr, said suddenly. Then, without warning, a third man walked out of the cell’s sink and into the cell itself. Like Dr. Scudder and his cellmate, he was dressed in prison greys, and, given what he had just done, Dr. Scudder might have thought that he was the Samuel Scudder of this dimension if not for the fact that, beyond a basic similarity in their builds, the new arrival looked nothing like him. He was a bit stockier than Dr. Scudder was and had wild auburn hair, a black eye, and a noticeable tooth gap that was visible thanks to his mildly unsettling open-mouthed grin. Even more unsettling was the fact that his cellmate didn’t seem particularly thrilled to see the new arrival. 

“Not this loon again. I don’t care what Cold says, this limey’s not the full quid.” 

“I’m nae more a limey than ye, ye minger. I’m a Glaswegian, nae a Londoner,” the other man replied. 

“Who are you callin’ a minger, you yobbo?” At this, the conversation rapidly devolved into an incredibly bewildering series of what Dr. Scudder presumed were Australian and Scottish insults and lots of loud swearing. Inevitably, the noise attracted the guards, who stormed over to the cell. 

“Quiet in there! Do we need to...oh, no. Not again!” one of them said. 

“How does McCulloch keep doing this? He never has any tech on him when he’s brought in, and he’s not an inventor like Scudder. How can he keep escaping his cell and going into other inmates’ with no tech?” another asked. 

“Maybe he’s a meta?” 

“Don’t be ridiculous! If he was a meta, his powers would be detected by our scanners. Dillon’s always are.” 

“But how else could a cokehead like him pull stunts like this off?” 

“Maybe he has help?” 

“In case you two have forgotten, we’re supposed to be capturing him and taking him to solitary for being out of his cell unsupervised,” the first guard said gruffly. The last comment finally seemed to draw the Scotsman’s attention away from his argument. 

“Oops! Looks like I’d better be going. Ta!” With that, the newcomer vanished back into the Mirror Realm...and Dr. Scudder realized suddenly that, as far as he knew, there was no “McCulloch” who was running around with his powers in his dimension. So where had this McCulloch come from? 

************************************************************************

The longer Sam stayed in this mirror dimension, the less he liked it. He was an illusionist by trade; seeming to be what he wasn’t was practically his calling card. However, even he could only keep up an act for so long, and pretending to be his do-gooder counterpart had already been exhausting him. And then he had learned that the Sam Scudder of this dimension was an optometrist! “Fake it ‘til you make it” had been effective in a number of situations in the past, but he somehow doubted working as an eye doctor when you’d never even graduated high school would be one of them. Fortunately, his counterpart had evidently just started a week-long vacation from work when he had arrived in this dimension, so he hadn’t actually had to work as an optometrist yet, but what was he going to do if the week of vacation ended and he was still stuck here?  

“Honey, are you alright? I know you’ve been really busy lately-it’s why you took this vacation, after all-but you seem like you’ve been avoiding me and our daughters lately, and I’m getting worried,” Jennifer asked as she adjusted his tie (or rather, his counterpart’s tie that he was wearing). She had informed him earlier that day that “they” (she and this world’s Sam) had planned to have a dinner party at their house today, and he had spent most of the day helping her and his counterpart’s cute kids make the place presentable for their guests (“I know she’s your friend, but she’s still the Mayor. I don’t want the house looking like a tornado went through it!”) Sam frowned. 

“I guess I must have been more stressed than I realized,” he said lamely. What else could he say? “I’m uncomfortable around you because I’m not really your husband; I’m his criminal counterpart from another dimension”? Even if she believed him, the only thing saying that would accomplish would be to get him locked up in this dimension. As creepy as it felt to lie to someone who looked so much like his old flame, looking out for number one was still more important. Jennifer sighed. 

“I shouldn’t be surprised. You work full-time as an optometrist and as a superhero; and then you’re also a dedicated father who helps around the house when you get home. That’s a lot for anyone to have on their plate...and that’s not even counting what happened to your mother two years ago. Therapy or no therapy, I don’t...I don’t think any of us are really over that.” Sam looked at her in alarm. What had happened to his mother? Er, his counterpart’s mother? Before he could think of a way to ask about it in a way that wouldn’t make it clear that he had no idea what had happened, Jennifer continued her thought and answered the question for him. 

“I mean, we knew that the superhero life had risks before you got into it, but I never thought...I never thought that the Flash would go after a sweet old woman like her just to get to you. She...she didn’t even have a chance to run before...before-it was just like my father all over again,” Jennifer said. Once, Sam had miscalculated where to exit from the Mirror Realm, falling almost ten feet and landing flat on his back. It had knocked the wind out of him completely and it had taken him several minutes to get his breath back. Learning that his mother-no, his counterpart’s mother-had been murdered by the criminal Flash of this dimension had a similar effect. He’d already lost Jenny’s father all those years ago when….no, not thinking about it; the idea of losing his mother like this Sam Scudder had was horrifying, no matter how estranged he was from her. Amidst the horror, Sam felt a sudden appreciation for the Flash of his dimension. Having a clean-cut busybody Flash was annoying, but a monstrous Flash who murdered innocent old ladies would be way worse. 

“I...I just can’t believe she’s gone,” Sam said. And, for perhaps the first time since he’d arrived in this dimension, he was telling the complete truth. 

“I know. Neither can I. Do you want to cancel our dinner party? I can if you need me to,” Jennifer asked. Sam shook his head. He needed something to take his mind off what he had just learned, ASAP. All canceling the party would do was give him more time to mull over what had happened to his counterpart’s mother and...I’m not thinking about it! He had spent years not thinking about things like that, and he didn’t intend to start now. 

“No. We’ve already cleaned the house and everything, and the kids’ll be disappointed if they don’t get to see the guests,” Sam replied. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, I’m sure.” 

All right. In that case, we’d better get downstairs. Officer Snart’s always early to things like this,” Jennifer replied. With that, he and his counterpart’s wife joined the cute kids downstairs, and, sure enough, the doorbell rang less than ten minutes later. Sam opened the door and was promptly greeted by the bizarre sight of a man who looked just like Len Snart, but wearing a police uniform. 

“Hey, Doc. Thanks for invitin’ me. How’ve you and the missus been?” he asked. 

“Uh, fine. Thanks. How about you?” Sam replied awkwardly. 

“Busy. Trainin’ rookie cops who think they know everything just ‘cause they went to some upscale police academy’s a pain, but what’re ya gonna do?” If there were two phrases that did not belong together in the same sentence, they were “police officer” and “Len Snart”...but then again, his counterpart was an optometrist. Len being a cop was pretty tame by comparison.  

“You love them all already, don’t you?” Jennifer asked. 

“Eh, they’re decent kids. Better than the batch I had last year...especially that creep I kicked off the force and arrested for beatin’ up his wife an’ kids. He picked the wrong Lieutenant to pull that crap with,” Len’s counterpart replied.  

“And how are Lucy and Jackson and your foster kids?” 

“They’re doin’ well, for the most part. My latest boy thinks he’s tough and he’s been givin’ me a bit of a rough time. Kid’s fifteen years old and thinks the world is out to get him, not that I can blame him after what he’s been through. Reminds me a lot of me at that age.  I just hope I can do for him what Officer Frye did for me an’ my sister,'' Len's counterpart explained. Sam felt really disoriented. It was very strange to have a man who looked and sounded and acted so much like Len Snart, but was also clearly not him.

“It wouldn’t be the first kid you’ve helped through a rough patch...and if you think he could benefit from therapy, my door is always open,” Jennifer said. 

“I appreciate it, Mrs. Scudder.” With that, Len’s counterpart was swarmed by Sam’s counterpart’s adorable children, who were clearly quite fond of the man. A few minutes later, the doorbell rang again. This time, there were two people on the other side: a man who was a dead ringer for Roscoe Dillon, and a woman in a very well-made pantsuit who looked exactly like Lisa Snart. Oh, right. The Golden Glider was the mayor in this reality. 

“Hi, Sam! Hi, Jennifer! How are you? I’m so glad we were able to make it,” Mayor Snart exclaimed. 

“We’re glad to have you here, Ms. Mayor. And Dr. Dillon, it’s good to see you,” Jennifer said. Sam waved awkwardly. 

“Likewise, Mrs. Scudder,” Dillon’s counterpart replied. Much like Dillon, he didn’t make eye contact, but he did smile, something that Dillon rarely did. 

“Hey, sis. How are you? Nobody’s been hasslin’ you in the office, right?” Len’s counterpart asked. 

“I’m a politician, Lenny. Being hassled is part of the job. But trust me, I can handle it,” Ms. Mayor replied. 

“You sure? ‘Cause I don’t want nobody hurtin’ my baby sister.”

“Yes, Lenny. I’m sure. I’m a big girl now. Isn’t that right, Dr. Scudder?” This, thankfully, was a question that Sam could answer pretty easily. 

“Your sister’s a remarkable woman, Len. She can handle herself,” he said. This Len probably wouldn’t listen any more than his Len did, but it was true in both realities. 

“Dr. Dillon, could I look at your tops, please?” This question came from Sam’s counterpart’s youngest daughter, whose name, as he had learned, was Samantha. Dr. Dillon’s face lit up. 

“Of course, darling. Which one would you like to see first?” Soon, he and Samantha were lost in a world of their own, both apparently completely entranced by Dr. Dillon’s tops. Ms. Mayor smiled. 

“I can’t wait until we have children of our own. No matter what he says, he’s actually really good with kids,” she said. While it wouldn’t have been true about his Dillon, Sam was inclined to believe her about this one. Several minutes later, with Dr. Dillon and Samantha still playing with tops, Ms. Mayor and Jennifer in a conversation about school funding, and his counterpart’s twins, Kathy and Kinsley, eagerly recounting their adventures at school to Len’s counterpart, the doorbell rang again. Sam answered it again, and this time found two men and a little boy on the other side. One was clearly Mick’s doppelganger, wearing a fireman’s uniform, and the other looked a lot like Mark Mardon, only a bit more well put together than the Mark of his reality and with a toddler on his hip. All right, he already knew Mick was a firefighter in this reality, so what weird thing did Mark do? And who was the kid? 

“Hi, everybody! I brought my homemade chili!” Mick’s doppelganger exclaimed. Sam made a mental note to politely avoid it. He’d tried the chili of his Mick once, and his mouth had felt like it was on fire for a week. 

“Hey, Mick! How ya doin’?” Len’s counterpart asked. 

“Great! Oh, and Dr. Scudder, Mrs. Scudder...thanks for having us over!” Mick’s doppelganger replied. 

“You’re welcome. Good to see you,” Sam replied weakly. He was glad that the guests were doing most of the talking. He was ordinarily a good liar, but three straight days of pretending to be someone else had worn him down, and he didn’t think he could’ve convincingly posed as his counterpart if the counterparts of the other Rogues hadn’t been doing most of the talking for him. 

“My wife says she’s sorry she couldn’t make it, but she has work tonight, and well-you know how it goes. It’s just me and our little guy tonight,” Mark-but-not-Mark said. 

“Oh, yeah. Julie mentioned at work that she’d be staying late tonight, now that I think about it. Guess I just didn’t think about it in relation to the party,” Len’s counterpart replied. So, Mark’s counterpart was married to a cop and they had a kid? Weird, but still not weirder than Lisa being the mayor. 

“Want down!” the toddler exclaimed. Mark-but-not-Mark obligingly set the kid down on the floor, and the twins immediately ran over to him, apparently thrilled by his arrival. 

“Aww, he’s so cute, Mr. Mardon!” Kathy exclaimed. 

“I can’t believe he’s so big now! I remember when he was just a tiny baby, and now he looks big enough to play ball with,” Kinsley added. Mark-but-not-Mark smiled. 

“He’s gonna be a regular heartbreaker when he grows up...just like me,” he said. 

“Yeah, you’re a real heartbreaker all right, Mardon. You break the hearts of anyone who looks at your ugly mug,” Len’s counterpart joked. Mark-but-not-Mark laughed. 

“You’re just jealous because I got voted the most handsome weather forecaster in the Midwest,” he said. Sam had to hold back a laugh of his own. He should’ve figured that Mardon’s counterpart would be a weatherman. 

“So, what are we having for dinner?” Mick’s doppelganger asked. 

“Italian food. I ordered it in from that Italian restaurant that’s owned by the aunt of-” 

“Hiya, everybody!” 

“Giovanni Giuseppi, the famous inventor,” Jennifer said. Sure enough, a small man who looked just like the Trickster, up to and including the garish fashion sense, was floating next to the partially-opened window. Sam walked over to the large window and obligingly opened it the rest of the way, and then the Trickster’s counterpart walked inside before descending and settling on the floor. 

“Uncle Giovanni! Uncle Giovanni!” the twins exclaimed.

“Gio!” Mark-but-not-Mark’s toddler said. 

“Hi, kids! Who wants a balloon animal?” All four children raised their hands, with Samantha even looking up from Dr. Dillon’s tops. Giovanni promptly set to work making balloon animals for the kids, chattering up a storm all the while about his newest advances in aerodynamic technology and the marketing success that the Airwalker shoes had proven to be. In fact, he was still chattering away when the doorbell rang again. Sam ran over to answer it, and was greeted by the strangest thing he’d seen all evening: Digger Harkness, with his hair combed, wearing a tuxedo. 

“G’day, everybody!”

“Well, if it isn’t the toy tycoon turned superhero. How’re you doin’, Mr. Wiggins?” Len’s counterpart asked. Sam frowned. Mr. Wiggins? 

“Fair dinkum, mate. Thanks for inviting me to your party, Dr. Scudder. It’s been a wild couple ‘a’ months, it has, inheriting my pop’s company and moving to a new country and all. It’s nice to know I’ve met some bonzer people since coming here,” Digger’s counterpart replied. 

“I know I’ve been wanting to get to know you better. I love Wiggins’ Toys!” Giovanni exclaimed. 

“And I am very curious to learn more about the man who inherited the company which created so many of my beloved tops,” Dr. Dillon added. 

��Well, as you might’ve guessed, I’m from Oz. Grew up in the Outback surrounded by lots of nothing...well, nothing except kangaroos, deadly spiders, venomous snakes, and lots of cows. My family never had much quid, so it was a bit of a surprise when I got a letter saying that I was the sole inheritor of some rich Yankee bloke’s company and fortune. Turns out I had a father I never knew about. Never even got to meet the guy. Apparently he and my mum had had a bit of a fling a long time ago that produced me, and he felt guilty enough to make me his heir on the off chance that he passed. I...I’m a bit out of my depth runnin’ a whole company, but my mum didn’t nickname me Digger for nothin’. I’m gonna take the company to greater heights than my pop ever did...and what better way to start than being my own marketing campaign? I always had a knack for boomerangs, after all. Frankly, the fact that Captain Boomerang gets to help people is just a bonus,” Digger’s counterpart explained. 

“My, Mr. Wiggins, that’s quite a story,” Jennifer said.

“Digger is fine, love. I’m not one to stand on formalities,” Digger’s counterpart replied. Sam, for his part, just shook his head. Just when he thought his life couldn’t get any crazier…..

***********************************************************************

“You got a visitor, Scudder,” Correctional Officer Paulson said. 

“A...visitor, sir?” Dr. Scudder asked. 

“Yeah. Your mother’s here to see you, goodness only knows why,” Paulson replied.

“My...my mother?” Dr. Scudder asked, certain that he’d heard something wrong. 

“Martha Scudder is your mother, isn’t she?” Dr. Scudder was utterly bewildered. That had indeed been his mother’s name...but his mother had died two years ago! 

“Are you sure it isn’t Jenny?” he asked. Maybe the guard had somehow gotten his counterpart’s wife’s name confused with the name of his counterpart’s mother. 

“What are you going on about, Scudder? Who’s Jenny?” It was at this point that Dr. Scudder realized that his counterpart differed from him in more ways than just being a criminal and an active smoker. If the guard didn’t recognize the name Jenny, then it stood to reason that...that his counterpart had never married his Jenny Conners. While in some ways that was a relief (as it meant that his counterpart wasn’t getting himself sent to prison as a husband or a father), in other ways, it was a bit sad...because it meant that Kathy and Kinsley and Samantha, his beloved children, probably didn’t even exist in this reality. And if there was that big of a difference between their realities, could his counterpart’s mother still be alive?

“Uh, never mind, sir. I...I don’t know what I was thinking,” he said quickly. 

“Then let’s go. She doesn’t get a lot of time with you; let’s not waste what little she has,” Paulson barked. With that, he led Dr. Scudder out of his cell and to the prison’s visitation room. Dr. Scudder was directed to one of the chairs, sat down, and then waited, feeling more than a little awkward and nervous. Even if his counterpart’s mother was still alive, her son was a criminal. That had to put strain on the relationship they had….and what if his counterpart’s mother was cruel and had played a part in how her son had turned out? About a minute later, the door on the other side of the glass opened, and a woman walked in and sat down across from him. Sure enough, she looked just like his mother had before...before….no, not thinking about it. Even though he knew, logically, that she wasn’t his mother, he had been utterly unprepared for the storm of emotions seeing the woman unleashed. He barely managed to pick up the phone on his side of the barrier before the tears started to flow. 

“Mom...oh, mom...I’ve missed you so much,” he said weakly. 

“I’ve missed you, too, Sam, and I’m worried about you. You’ve always been a smart man; I don’t understand why you insist on ruining your life, or why you insist on driving me away. You were such a good boy; I don’t understand what went wrong.” Dr. Scudder knew that this woman wasn’t really his mother, he did, but it didn’t matter. The emotions-and the guilt-that she stirred up were the same. 

“Mom, I’m... I’m so, so sorry. It’s all my fault!” On some level, Dr. Scudder knew that his guilt over his mother’s death was irrational, but he couldn’t help but feel responsible for it. If he had never become the Mirror Master, his mother would never have become the innocent victim of the Flash. She would still be alive, and his children would still have their grandmother. And besides, surely someone with access to as much amazing technology as he had should have been able to keep her alive. He’d saved thousands of other people….what was wrong with him that he hadn’t been able to save his own mother? 

“Sam, are you all right? I haven’t seen you get this emotional since you were a boy.” Dr. Scudder struggled to compose himself. The last thing he wanted was to distress his mother-his counterpart’s mother-but he was finding it really difficult to stop crying. In a way, he was getting the opportunity to talk with his mother one last time, something he had longed for since her death. It wasn’t particularly surprising, then, that he was having trouble controlling his emotions. 

“Don’t...don’t worry about me, Mom. I...I just want you to know that I… I love you. I couldn’t...couldn’t ask for a better mother,” he finally managed to choke out. His counterpart’s mother smiled weakly. 

“I know, son….but I wish that you’d show your love by straightening your life out rather than pushing me away. I know you think you’re protecting me, but all you’re doing is making it harder for both of us. I’m not worried about what people will think of me because of you, I’m worried about what you’re doing to other people-and yourself. If people want to judge me for being your mother, that’s fine...but you’ve played this game long enough. My son is Sam Scudder, not the Mirror Master. When will you remember who you are?” she asked. If Dr. Scudder ever met his criminal counterpart, he was going to be strongly tempted to punch the man. How could he put their mother through this? Couldn’t he see what he was doing to her?

“I...I don’t know, mom. I’m sorry,” he said. He wanted to promise her that her son would straighten his life out, but, no matter how much she resembled his mother, Dr. Scudder was not this Martha Scudder’s son, and he didn’t want to break her heart by promising change that his counterpart might not follow up on. His counterpart’s mother looked disappointed, but not particularly surprised. 

“Oh, Sam…” she murmured, and Dr. Scudder almost started crying again. His poor mother…

“How...how have you been, mom?”  

“I’ve been doing well. Work’s going well, and I’m not too lonely. I’ve got my church group, and I just saw Jennifer Conners two days ago. She’s doing well.” 

“Has...has she met anyone?” Dr. Scudder asked. Hopefully, this Jenny wasn’t still pining for his counterpart.

“No, she hasn’t. She says that she’s happy with her job, and that she doesn’t need anyone.” 

“She’s not still waiting for me, is she?” His counterpart’s mother just shook her head. 

“I honestly don’t know, Sam. I’ve told her that she shouldn’t throw away any chance of a romantic life on the off chance that you come back to her, but I don’t know if she’s listening or not,” she said. Dr. Scudder frowned and decided to change the subject. Talking about Jenny reminded him of how much he missed his wife, and he was emotional enough as it was. 

“Mom, do you remember the time I won the Pine Car Derby when I was a Cub Scout?” he asked, hoping that this was something both he and his counterpart had done. Luckily, his counterpart’s mother smiled fondly. 

“Of course I do, Sam,” she said. 

After an enjoyable twenty minutes taking a trip down memory lane, Correctional Officer Paulson stood up. 

“All right, time’s up,” he said. 

“Good-bye, Sam.” 

“Good-bye, Mom. I love you,” Dr. Scudder replied. With that, he allowed Officer Paulson to lead him back to his cell. 

“You’ve got a better mother than you deserve, Scudder.” 

“I know, sir,” Dr. Scudder replied. He didn’t think anyone could deserve a mother like Martha Scudder-either his or the one of this dimension. When they arrived at the cell, George Wiggins’ counterpart was inside. Evidently, he had returned from his shift in the prison’s workshop. He had a noticeable black eye that he hadn’t had when he had left the cell in the morning. 

“Scudder! Good to see ya, mate!” he exclaimed as Dr. Scudder walked into the cell. Dr. Scudder nodded in greeting as Officer Paulson locked the cell door behind him and walked away. 

“What happened to your face?” Dr. Scudder asked, careful to maintain the “tough guy” impersonation he’d been putting on around George Wiggins’ counterpart. 

“Some whacker bailed me up and challenged me to a fight. Bloody idiot thought he was tough and wanted to prove it by beatin’ up a real bushranger. I decided to let him have a go with me...and well, if you think I look bad, you should see the other guy! Next time he decides to pick a fight, he’ll know better than to mess with Digger Harkness,” the criminal replied proudly. 

“First time in prison?” Dr. Scudder guessed. 

“Reckon! What about you, mate? What’ve you been up to?” 

“My mom visited.” 

“Must be nice to have somebody who cares enough to visit. I haven’t had a visitor in prison since I left the Outback. How’s your mum doing?”

“She seems to be doing all right. It was nice seeing her,” Dr. Scudder replied. As emotional as the experience had been, it had also been nice to talk to a Martha Scudder one more time. 

“She had good timing, too. You almost didn’t make it back in time for pickup.” Before Dr. Scudder could ask what that meant, he found himself pulled through the Mirror Realm and deposited him in a rather dilapidated building. 

“Howzitgoan, Scudder?” The speaker was Evan McCulloch, the other person in this dimension with access to the Mirror Realm. It seemed that the mystery man had broken him out of prison, but for what purpose? 

**************************************************************************

“So Cinderella married her prince, and the two of them lived happily ever after. The end,” Sam read. Samantha smiled. 

“I love this story. Thanks for reading it to me, Daddy,” she said. 

“You’re welcome. Goodnight, Samantha.” Sam replied as he carefully shelved the book. 

“Good night, Daddy!” Sam switched on the nightlight and then turned off the light. 

“Sweet dreams, kiddo,” he said. With that, he left the little girl’s room, quietly closed the door behind him, and groaned weakly. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he was falling in love with his counterpart’s family, and the more time he spent with them, the more guilty he felt for not coming clean. As if to underscore his guilt, Jennifer immediately walked up to him and beamed. 

“You’re such a great father,” she said. 

“Well, they’re great kids. It’s not hard,” Sam replied. 

“That they are. Maybe we should try for another. I mean, I’d love to have a little boy-or another little girl,” Jennifer said. Alarm bells went off in Sam’s head, but before he could react or try to change the subject, Jennifer kissed him. He wanted to return the kiss-she was, after all, as beautiful as his Jenny had been-but he couldn’t. Even he wasn’t low enough to kiss someone under the pretense of being their husband...especially not someone like Jenny. 

“Jenny, no! We-we can’t do this!” he blurted out. 

“What...what do you mean?” Jennifer asked. 

“I can’t do this to you. I...I’m not who you think I am. I’m not your husband!” Jennifer backed away from him in obvious horror. 

“Then who are you?” she asked. 

“I’m your husband’s counterpart from an alternate reality. My name is Sam Scudder, and I am the Mirror Master, but I’m not a doctor and I’m not a hero. I’m a thief. I use my mirror tech to steal stuff, and I came to your reality after escaping from prison,” Sam replied. Jennifer stared at him in horror for a few seconds, and then slapped him across the face. 

“I...I probably deserved that,” he said. 

“Probably? You came into my house and pretended to be my husband for almost a week! Being a thief is bad enough when you’re just stealing things! You deserve a lot more than a slap, buster! How dare you try to steal my husband’s life! How dare you trick me into thinking that you were my children’s father! And where is my husband?” Jennifer exclaimed. 

“I...I’m not sure,” Sam replied weakly. 

“What do you mean, you’re not sure?” 

“I came to your dimension by accident, and the Mirror Realm isn’t letting me get back to my own. I didn’t intentionally do anything to your husband. Trust me, I know I’m not a hero. I don’t wanna spend the rest of my life pretending to be one...but I don’t know where your husband is or how to get back to my home dimension,” Sam babbled. 

“And so that makes it okay for you to pretend to be my husband?”

“No, it doesn’t….but I...I...well, honestly, I think your husband is what part of me wishes I was. Being a father and a husband and a hero...it’s not what I am. It takes a better man to do that than I am….and I wanted to convince myself that I could be that for a little while. Well, that, and I didn’t want to get stuck behind bars in this dimension and possibly never get home,” Sam explained. 

“What did you do to my husband?” 

“I don’t know! I told you, I don’t know! He could be stuck in my dimension, but if he is, I can’t get him back! I’m trapped here; the Mirror Realm won’t let me leave this dimension.” 

“And you’re a criminal, so for all I know he could be in prison right now! Are you proud of yourself? You might have sent an innocent man to prison!” 

“I...I’m sorry, Jenny.” 

“Get out of my house!” Jennifer exclaimed. Sam complied, using the Mirror Realm to leave the house and travel to another one of his hideouts, one that was much more familiar to Sam than the one he had left. This building was effectively a laboratory, one that was full of mirror technology. Sam smiled weakly. The secret was out; it was time to stop pretending that he was anything like his heroic counterpart. Now he could focus on finding a way of fixing the Mirror Realm and returning to his home dimension. He could go back to being a famous criminal, Dr. Scudder could be reunited with his wonderful family, and all would be right with the world again. So why did the idea make him feel so upset? He certainly wasn’t the sentimental type. 

Sam spent the next few hours tinkering with the mirror technology in his counterpart’s laboratory, trying to figure out what had gone wrong with the Mirror Realm. He was preparing to take a snack break when a red blur appeared in the lab and solidified into what seemed to be the Flash. Before Sam could ponder which Flash this was, the speedster pulled off his cowl, revealing a shock of red hair. 

“Look, Mirror Master, I hate you as much as any crook, but Barry’s gone too far this time. I can’t let him do something like this,” he said, confirming his identity as the mirror version of Wally West. 

“What’s he planning to do?” Sam asked. 

“He said….he said...he’s going after your kids, man! He’s gonna kill your daughters to get you off his back, and that just ain’t right,” Criminal Wally replied. Sam was horrified. Killing kids was like killing old ladies. As Criminal Wally had put it, it just wasn’t right. 

“Do you know anything else?” 

“I think he’s planning to launch his attack tomorrow at 12 noon….but I’ve stayed too long as it is. If he finds out I told you what he was planning, he’ll kill Linda, and I can’t let that happen. Gotta run!” With that, Criminal Wally disappeared in a red blur of motion, leaving Sam alone once more.  

“What am I supposed to do now?” he asked aloud. He certainly didn’t want the monstrous Flash of this dimension to kill his counterpart’s adorable children, and he wanted to be indirectly responsible for their deaths by having accidentally taken their father’s place even less….but, as much as he hated to admit it, he didn’t have the best success rate against the Flash of his own universe, and the Flash of this dimension was a ruthless murderer, one whom he knew lacked the reservations of the Flash he was familiar with. He was good at playing cops and robbers, and at evading trouble, but he doubted he would be able to survive a brutal fight with a speedster who could murder old ladies and little kids without any apparent guilt. Quite frankly, the idea of fighting the Murder Flash terrified him. Maybe it made him a coward….but he definitely didn't relish the thought of getting brutally murdered by a psychopath. 

“Who am I kidding? I’m no hero. If pretending to be my counterpart taught me anything, it’s that I’m not a hero. Those poor kids….they’re gonna die, and the only thing that’ll happen if I try to intervene is that they’ll watch someone who looks like their dad get killed right before they die.” He couldn’t do anything; better to just disappear into the Mirror Realm until the carnage had ended. Sure, he’d feel terrible when it was over, but it wasn’t his fault that the Murder Flash hated Dr. Scudder, and it also wasn’t his fault that the psychopath was willing to kill kids. It wasn’t, and if he told himself that enough, maybe he’d be able to live with himself after this was over.

******************************************************************

Before Dr. Scudder could ask either the mysterious Evan McCulloch or George Wiggins’ counterpart about just what exactly was going on, several more people filed into the room, most of whom bore an eerie resemblance to his friends from his own dimension. There was a small, lithe blonde man with a mischievous smile who looked exactly like Giovanni, a beautiful woman who looked exactly like Mayor Lisa Snart, a man in a suit and strangely striped top hat who strongly resembled Dr. Dillon (if Dr. Dillon had had unsettling glowing eyes), and a tall, muscular man who could have been Mick Rory’s twin had his body not been covered in burns. More strangely yet, standing next to Giovanni’s doppelganger was a slight young man with long red hair. Dr. Scudder couldn’t be sure, but from the pictures he’d seen of the man in the newspaper, this man looked like he could be Hartley Rathaway, the sole heir to the Rathaway Publishing Company. What in the world would the son of two billionaires be doing in a place like this? Before he could ponder this question further, however, two more people entered the room, arguing loudly. One of them was probably the doppelganger of his friend Mark Mardon, and the other was, without a doubt, this universe’s version of Officer Len Snart. There was no mistaking his icy blue eyes. 

“How irresponsible are you?” Officer Snart’s counterpart demanded. 

“It’s...it’s not my fault, Cold! I didn’t even know about this until yesterday!” Mark’s doppelganger replied.

“How many times have I told you to be careful? I ain’t gonna lecture nobody about havin’ an eye for the ladies, but the last thing I need is to have my guys gettin’ people pregnant! It creates way too many complications...like the fact that you might wind up as a toddler’s closest living relative!” 

“Come on, Cold! How was I supposed to know that Officer Jackam would get murdered by a knife-wielding maniac? That’s not exactly something that happens every day!” 

“Even if she hadn’t gotten herself killed, you still would’ve owed like three thousand dollars in child support. The last thing we need is more attention from the police, and you know how much Central’s cracked down on deadbeat dads! And don’t give me any of that crap about them not coming after us for that...the mom was a cop! Which, by the way, makes you even MORE stupid and irresponsible! Seriously, a cop? What were you thinking?” 

“I know what he was thinking! He was thinking that he was lonely, and that she was really hot,” Giovanni’s counterpart snarked. 

“Um, excuse me, but what exactly is going on here? I’ve been in prison for a week or two, so I’m not caught up on current events,” Dr. Scudder asked, in the hopes of both cutting off the argument and figuring out what was going on and why it concerned him (or rather, his counterpart). 

“Don’t look at me, mate. I’m in the same boat as you,” George Wiggins’ counterpart said. “Cold”, which for some reason seemed to be the name everyone was addressing Officer Snart’s counterpart by, frowned. 

“Mardon was stupid enough to have a one-night stand with a cop and get her pregnant, and now not only does he owe more money than he has in child-support bills, but he’s also the kid’s closest living relative because the cop-Officer Jackam; she arrested you once, remember?-got killed by a crazy knife-wielding cultist,” he snapped. 

“C’mon; it’s not like I knew I had a kid. If her partner hadn’t tracked me down and told me, I’d have never known about him. I wasn’t consciously missing child support payments,” Mark’s counterpart protested. 

“That don’t exactly make it better, Mardon,” Cold replied. Dr. Scudder, for his part, had mostly worked out what was happening. Evidently, Mark’s counterpart and Julie’s counterpart still had had a son...but they weren’t married to each other, Julie’s counterpart had been murdered, and Mark’s counterpart was a criminal and hadn’t even known that his son existed until recently. But in that case, where was Josh? 

“So...who’s got the kid?” he asked, trying to sound casual. 

“Right now? Officer Chyre, the only 58-year-old beat cop in the entire police force. He was Julie’s partner, and her father’s partner, and her grandfather’s partner. Guy’s old enough that he was a rookie cop when my old man was on the force, and he wanted to adopt the kid himself. Said he sees him as a grandson almost,” Cold replied. Dr. Scudder remembered Officer Snart briefly mentioning that his father had been a corrupt police officer. Evidently, this was also true of his counterpart’s father. 

“Then why bring Mark into it at all? If Officer Chyre wants to raise the child, why didn’t he just apply to have him adopted? It isn’t as though Mark would be likely to win any sort of custody battle.” This question came from the red-haired young man who looked a lot like Hartley Rathaway. 

“Well, you see, there’s a bit of a catch with this particular kid. He can control the weather,” Cold replied. Dr. Scudder stared at Cold in shock. 

“He can do what?” The Josh in his reality didn’t have any superpowers...and neither, for that matter, did the Mark Mardon of his reality. 

“He can control the weather. When he’s happy, rainbows appear. When he cries, it rains. When he’s angry, it storms. And he’s two years old and has no control over any of it.” Cold said. 

“But how?” 

“At the moment, I think the working theory is that the weather wand somehow altered my DNA; that somehow its weather-controlling powers got encoded into my genes or something and were passed along to my son,” Mark’s counterpart explained. Dr. Scudder wanted to protest that a device that could control the weather was patently ridiculous, but it wasn’t really much stranger than his mirror technology, so he couldn’t. Although if sufficiently advanced and bizarre technology could encode itself in the user’s DNA, did that mean that there was a possibility that he had given his children biological superpowers without realizing it? It was a sobering thought. 

“Regardless of how he got the powers, the point is, he has them now, and the only way to counteract what this kid can do is to use the Weather Wand. As a result, anybody who wants custody of the kid also needs custody of the wand….which is why I had Evan bring everybody here. Thanks to Mark bein’ a moron, we’ve got a real problem on our hands,” Cold said. 

“Hey!” Mark’s counterpart protested. Cold ignored him.

“So, the way I see it, Mark has to either give up the Weather Wand, or take the kid himself. Otherwise, we’re running a very real risk that this kid’ll destroy the city or somethin’,” he said. 

“Could we not simply allow Flash to deal with the weather created by the child?” Dr. Dillon’s counterpart asked.

“That might work for some of the stuff the kid can do, but probably not all of it. Like, I know he can stop tornadoes, but can he stop a hurricane? Mark doesn’t have any internal powers, so Flash can stop all the stuff he does by knocking him unconscious or getting the Wand out of his hands. The kid’s powers are internalized. They can’t be taken away from him, and, since I doubt the Flash will take to punching a toddler in the face, the only solutions are waiting for the kid’s mood to change or using the Wand. And before anyone suggests that Mark could just counteract the kid’s power with the wand without taking the kid...do you really think the cops’ll just give him the Weather Wand if he’s in prison or something?” 

“Couldn’t the cops or the Flash or whoever just use the Wand themselves if that happened?” This question came from Mayor Snart’s doppelganger. Cold frowned thoughtfully. 

“That’s a point, sis...but what if there's a learning curve for the Weather Wand? I know I couldn’t do all the stuff I do now with the Cold Gun back when I first started using it. If the Wand’s got a similar learning curve, the kid’s tantrums might destroy the city before they figured out how to use the thing. That kid’s a walking time bomb; playing hot potato with the only thing that can counteract his abilities seems like a stupid idea,” Cold said. 

“Couldn’t he just give the Wand to whoever takes the deadly anklebiter and make another one for himself?” George Wiggins’ counterpart asked. Mark’s counterpart flushed and looked pointedly at the ground. 

“No. I can’t...because I didn’t invent the wand, my brother did, and he’s dead. I followed his blueprints to make the Wand, and those were destroyed a long time ago by the Flash to prevent anyone from making a more powerful version. Without the blueprints, I’m not smart enough to build another one. And I am not giving up my Weather Wand to anybody else! How exactly can I be the Weather Wizard without it?”

“It don’t matter, Mardon,’cause you’re done as the Weather Wizard whether you give up the Wand or not,” Cold said. Dr. Scudder made a mental note to tell Mark about the “Weather Wizard” name if he ever got back to his home dimension. He’d probably think it was a cool nickname for a weather forecaster, even if he didn’t have a wand that controlled the weather like his counterpart apparently did. In speaking of that Mark, his eyes were now sparking with electricity, and Dr. Scudder suddenly questioned the validity of Cold’s claims that the man had no natural superpowers. Normal people couldn’t shoot electricity from their eyes, after all. 

“What do you mean, I’m ‘done’ as the Weather Wizard?” he snapped. 

“I mean that since I’m not keen on the idea of my city getting destroyed by a superpowered toddler throwing a tantrum, you’re either giving up the Weather Wand, in which case you’ll have to stop being the Weather Wizard since you’ll have no powers, or you’re taking the kid,” Cold snarled. 

“Are you crazy? I’m not taking the kid! I don’t know anything about kids! And even if I was taking the kid, why would I stop being the Weather Wizard? Digger has a kid, and he’s still Captain Boomerang!” Mark’s doppelganger exclaimed. 

“Digger’s kid is sixteen years old, and doesn’t have potentially city-destroying superpowers. Your kid is two and does,” Cold replied. 

“Well, I’m not taking the kid anyway, so it doesn’t matter,” Mark’s doppelganger said. 

“Then give me the Wand so I can get it to whoever’s gonna be using it to stop the kid from accidentally destroying everything,” Cold ordered. 

“What? No! You can’t take my Wand! I need it!” Mark’s counterpart cried. 

“Then you’re taking the kid?” Cold asked. 

“No! Do I look like a father to you?” In response, Cold grabbed Mark’s counterpart and pulled a thin metal rod out of his left sleeve. 

“Make up your mind, Mardon. What do you want more: having the wand, or not having the kid?” he asked. 

“Give me my Wand back!” 

“Not unless you agree to take the kid,” Cold said. 

“What makes you think they’ll even let me have him?” Dr. Scudder thought this was a good question. Mark’s counterpart was a supervillain, after all. 

“Three reasons. First, you’re his closest living relative. Second, you’re at least moderately competent with the Weather Wand. And third, you’re technically out on parole right now. Normally, you’d never get custody just by being on parole, but given the fact that you’ve got a kid with the potential to destroy the city, I think they’ll be inclined to give you him just to make sure that the city stays in one piece. So I repeat, what do you want more? Do you want to have the Wand, or do you want to not have the responsibility of the kid?” Cold replied. 

“I want both of those things!” 

“Tough. Should’ve thought of that before you got Officer Jackam pregnant.” 

“Wait...if his son is powerful enough that he could potentially destroy the city, why haven’t we ever heard of him before? That seems like something that would’ve traced him back to Weather Wizard a long time ago,” Mr. Rathaway’s counterpart asked. 

“From what Chyre said, his powers were dormant up until recently. About a week ago, he made it rain indoors, and his powers have been steadily increasing since then. Yesterday, when he threw a fit, it created a miniature tornado that almost destroyed Chyre’s house,” Cold replied. Dr. Scudder looked up in alarm. If the child’s powers really were increasing that rapidly, then there was no wonder that Cold wanted to make sure that his powers were kept under control. 

“Then I...I guess I’ll take the kid. I can’t give up the Weather Wand. I just can’t! You have no idea what losing that sort of power would do to me,” Mark’s counterpart said. 

“You do realize you’re still not gonna be able to be the Weather Wizard, don’t you? Kid that could destroy the city or not, they’re gonna be watching you like a hawk...and if you give them so much as a hint that you’re committing crimes, they’ll give the kid and the wand to someone else,” Cold asked him.

“I don’t care! The Wand is the only reason I’ve ever been anyone! I can’t give it up...even if it means I get saddled with a kid!” Befor Dr. Scudder could think of a way to ask about the potential danger of letting this man raise a child, Cold cut him off by speaking up again. 

“And if I find out that you’ve been doing anything-anything at all- to hurt that kid, Mardon, you’ll have me to answer to, understand?” Cold barked. 

“Yes, sir,” Mark said weakly. Cold shook his head. 

“Cold, you do realize that removing Mardon from the Rogues will reduce our overall power level significantly, correct?” Dr. Dillon’s counterpart asked. 

“Of course I realize that, Dillon...but Mardon’s made his bed, and now we’re all stuck lying in it. Come on, Mardon. Let’s get your kid,” Cold said. Mark’s counterpart made a sad little whine, then followed Cold out of the room. 

“So, how long do you think it’ll be before Mark loses the kid and the wand?” Giovanni’s counterpart asked, sounding entirely too cheerful about the prospect. 

“I give it a week, at best. Mardon’s incompetent,” Dr. Dillon’s doppelganger said coolly. 

“Not with Lenny breathing down his neck. My bet is that it’ll last a few months before Lenny slips up enough to not be around when he does something stupid,” Mayor Snart’s counterpart replied. At this point, Dr. Scudder decided that he had had enough of this particular group of people to last him for a good long while, and quietly slipped into the Mirror Realm. True, he couldn’t use it to get home, but anything was better than getting further wrapped up in the apparent soap opera that was the life of his counterpart when not in prison. Unfortunately for him, the solitude of the Mirror Realm lasted for only a few seconds before it was invaded by the mysterious McCulloch. 

“Howzitgoan?” he asked. Dr. Scudder almost jumped out of his skin at the unexpected sound.

“What do you want?” he asked as soon as his heart started beating at a normal rate again. McCulloch let out a disturbing chuckle. 

“Ye should see the look on your face!”

“I said, what do you want?” 

“Ye ken, ye don’t have tae pretend nae more,” McCulloch said. Dr. Scudder felt a sense of dread settle in his stomach. McCulloch knew. 

“W-what do you mean?” he asked. McCulloch laughed again. 

“Ye can knock that off. I didnae come up the Clyde on a banana boat, ye ken? I mean that ye aren’t Scudder...at least, ye are nae the Scudder of this reality. That’s right, int it nae?” 

“How...how did you-” 

“How did I figure it out? I’m a canny lad, I am. I’ve known since I saw ye. Scudder’s a southpaw, ye ken. Would’ve caught the cigarette pack with his left hand, nae his right. And his hair curls in the opposite direction from yours. Going intae Wonderland with ye just proved what I’d already worked out on my own, ken? You’re his literal mirror image, and but.” 

“So why didn’t you tell anyone?” McCulloch shrugged. 

“Didnae feel like it. So, who are ye really?” 

“Dr. Samuel Scudder. I’m an optometrist. And a superhero,” he replied. He wasn’t about to tell this lunatic that he had a wife and children. McCulloch laughed again. 

“An optometrist? That’s pure barry, it is! Wonderland transport ye here, Dr. Mirror Master?” he asked. 

“What is Wonderland?” 

“Ach, that’s right. If ye are anything like the Scudder I ken, ye have nae creativity. Ye probably call it the Mirror Realm. Pure boring name, that.” 

“Then yes, I was using the Mirror Realm when I was transported here. For whatever reason, it’s been blocking me from leaving this dimension since then, so I haven’t been able to get home. I’d guess that your Scudder is  probably stuck in my reality,” Dr. Scudder. Evan nodded, as though this was the most natural thing in the world.

“Wonderland does weird things like that, it does. Pure deid brilliant place, int it nae?” 

“Then why has it never happened to me before?” 

“Suppose it’d be because ye and my Scudder have nae used Wonderland tae go tae the same place at the same time before. Got confused, it did. That’d be why it locked ye both where ye were. It’s likely still sortin’ out it’s confusion, ken?” 

“How long will it be before the confusion sorts itself out? I need to get home,” Dr. Scudder asked. 

“Weeks? Months? Years? Could be decades.” 

“Decades?” He couldn’t be gone that long! 

“Calmy doony, Dr. Mirror Master. I can get ye home. All I need do is find the portal tae the dimension that’s the mirror of ours, ken?” 

“How do I know I can trust you? From all appearances, you’re a supervillain.” 

“From what ye told me, getting you back home’ll be the only way to get my Scudder back. I want him around, ken? Man’s a genius,” McCulloch. Dr. Scudder frowned. He still wasn’t entirely sure that he could trust the mystery man, but the thought of leaving his city and his family without any protection from his universe’s supervillains for any longer horrified him. He’d already been gone for nearly a week! 

“All right, McCulloch. If you can get me back to my home dimension, do it.” McCulloch gave a slightly unnerving smile. 

“Off we go, then. Hold on tight, Dr. Mirror Master. The trip might get a wee bit rough!” 

************************************************************************

Sam checked his watch. 11:45 AM. Fifteen minutes until the Monster Flash of this dimension killed the innocent children of his counterpart. Which wasn’t his fault! It wasn’t! It...oh, who was he kidding? It was. They were going to die, and he would be responsible for it, as surely as if he had killed them himself, because, unlike the Sam Scudder of this dimension, he wasn’t even remotely a good person. He was selfish and self-absorbed, and apparently a coward as well. At his core, he was still the same weak, stupid teenaged boy; trying to protect himself from the memory of his girlfriend’s father being murdered in front of him for no reason at all by acting like he was tough. He had spent years hiding, in one way or another, from the man in the mirror, because when he looked at the reflection of Sam Scudder, he didn’t like what he saw. He sighed weakly as he absently looked into his counterpart’s bedroom through his side of the mirror that hung on its wall. Sam had never hated himself more than he did at this moment. 

Suddenly, his eye fell on his Mirror Master costume, which was lying next to an old JSA comic, and he felt a sudden surge of disgust. What was wrong with him? He wasn’t just Sam Scudder, he was the Mirror Master! Supervillain or not, the Mirror Master had been based on the members of the JSA, and he wasn’t afraid of anything, not even the Murder Flash! Sure, he’d never beaten the Flash of his reality, but he’d never fought the Flash over anything nearly as important as this. With his brilliant inventions and the fact that he was keeping a bunch of adorable kids from getting hurt on his side, he was sure to win! Smiling smugly, the Mirror Master stepped into his counterpart’s room through the mirror and changed into his costume. He had gotten about five inches out of his room when he was confronted by Jennifer. 

“What are you doing back here?” she said, clearly furious. 

“No time to explain, I’m afraid. Madam Jennifer, you’re about to witness the greatest act of the Mirror Master’s illustrious career: the moment when I finally defeat the Flash!” Another convenient thing about being the Mirror Master was the fact that Sam could bury his emotions under the theatricality the role required. 

“The Flash? Isn’t he in prison?” 

“Take it from another supervillain, Madam Jennifer: we rarely stay in prison for very long.” 

“Why would you want to stop another supervillain?” 

“Because, Madam Jennifer, even I’m not enough of a monster to butcher children.” Jennifer gasped. 

“You don’t mean that he’s…” 

“I’m afraid so.” He handed her one of his mirror guns. 

“If you think I’m going to abandon my house to a pair of maniacs, you’ve got another thing coming, mister!” 

“That’s not it, Madam Jennifer. I’m going to meet him outside. If it looks like he’s winning...or like I’m going to betray you somehow-you can use this to protect yourself and the house and get the kids to safety.” 

“Why should you care what happens to us?” 

“Because I’d like to be able to look at myself in the mirror when this is done. And besides, I wouldn’t be much of a Mirror Master if I passed up the chance to defeat the Flash, now would I?” Jennifer didn’t look convinced, but she stepped out of his way. 

“If you mess this up, you won’t have to worry about the Flash killing you...because I’ll kill you myself,” she said. Mirror Master laughed. 

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Madam Jennifer.” With that, he went down the stairs and was about to go out the front door when Kathy, Kinsley, and Samantha surrounded him. 

“Aren’t you gonna tell us good-bye, Dad? You usually do when you go on a mission,” Kinsley asked. Mirror Master sighed, knelt down so he was at the girls’ level, and then took off his cowl. This was one situation Mirror Master wasn’t of much use in. 

“Kids, I have to tell you something. I….I’m not who you think I am. Your dad’s a really good person, and with kids like you, I can see why, but I’m not your dad. I’m an alternate version of him from another reality, and I got stuck here thanks to an accident with the Mirror Realm. My name’s Sam. I’m a Mirror Master, too, but...I’m a bad guy. I’m not going to hurt you...you’re great kids...but I’ve made a lot of mistakes, and pretending to be your dad was one of them. I’m very sorry, and I get it if you don’t forgive me or anything. But I need to tell you something. The Flash-the really bad man your dad fights-is coming here to hurt you guys. I’m going to try to stop him. If it looks like I’m going to lose, you need to go find your mom so that she can keep you safe, okay?” he said. In response, Kinsley kicked him in the shin. 

“That’s for pretending to be my dad.”

“I...I deserved that.” 

“Yeah, you did. But don’t worry. If you get your butt kicked by the Flash, I’ll make sure to get Kathy and Samantha to safety,” she said. 

“Good.” 

“Bye, other Daddy,” Samantha said. Sam choked up. 

“G-good-bye, Samantha,” he said. With that, he pulled the cowl back on, left the house, locked the door behind him, and started setting up his mirror traps. When it came to fighting a speedster, nothing was more important than being prepared. 

After six minutes of rapid-fire preparation, a red blur sped into view and solidified into the Murder Flash, activating one of the mirror traps as he did so. 

“Well, my Flashy foe, it’s about time you showed up. What took you so long?” The Murder Flash snarled as he dodged and vibrated through the explosion of jagged mirror shards that he had set off, then ran at one of Mirror Master’s mirror duplicates, which sent him straight into another trap, this one capable of inducing temporary disorientation. 

“Nice try, Flash! I see your brain is working as fast as ever!” The Murder Flash’s only response was another snarl. He tried to run towards Mirror Master, but the disorientation caused him to land flat on his face instead. Naturally, being a Flash, he was back on his feet in another second, but it had given Mirror Master just enough time to swap locations with another of his duplicates. The Murder Flash proceeded to run into three more mirror-traps, shaking off the effect quickly but giving Mirror Master valuable time to relocate himself and create more traps. Mirror Master smirked. What had he been so worried about? This was much easier than fighting the Flash of his dimension! 

“I’ve got to say, Flash, I was really expecting more out of a supervillain like you!” he crowed.

“You’re not Dr. Scudder!” Suddenly, Mirror Master found himself in the grip of the Murder Flash. He managed to use his special contact lenses to shoot a laser into the Monster Flash’s hands, prompting the other supervillain to release him and giving him just enough time to hide himself once more. Okay, so maybe he’d been wrong about how easy this would be.

“What makes you say that?” Mirror Master asked as he set up another trap. 

“Because your vibratory aura indicates that you’re from another reality. What are you doing here, and where is the good doctor?” The voice sounded like that of the Flash’s, but with a cold undertone that made it very disturbing. 

“Accident with the Mirror Realm. Your Mirror Master’s probably in my dimension right about now,” Mirror Master replied. 

“In that case, I will make you an offer. I don’t know how you found out that I was planning to murder Dr. Scudder’s family, but it doesn’t concern you. Leave now, and I will let you return to your own dimension unharmed.” Mirror Master smirked. 

“Sorry, but I have a policy against making deals with psychopathic child killers, and another policy against making deals with people who think they’re supervillains,” he said. 

“Then you will die with them,” Murder Flash said. He promptly ran at another Mirror Duplicate and was temporarily trapped in a mirror. 

“You see, this is what I mean! You’re a villain-there’s no doubt about that-but you aren’t a supervillain. You know what the difference between the two is?” he asked as the Murder Flash burst out of the mirror that had been holding him. In response, the Mirror Master pressed a button on the inside of his suit. An image of a disco ball appeared, spreading colorful light all across the lawn, disco music began to play, and several laser beams started chasing the Murder Flash. 

“PRESENTATION!” he exclaimed. The lasers slowly started to box the Murder Flash in, and Mirror Master watched as he ran out of places to run. He had done it! He had beaten the Flash and saved the kids! Of course he had! He was the-UGH! 

“Did you really think your silly trap could hold me? I can run much faster than light! All I had to do to escape was break light speed!” Weakly, Mirror Master reached for his gun, only for the Murder Flash to beat him to it and snap it in half. 

“One last chance, “Mirror Master”. Your tech is gone. Now get out of my way, or I will kill you, slowly and painfully.” 

“Not happening. You see, I’m a lousy person. I lie and I steal stuff and I’m not nearly the man your Mirror Master is. I’m a supervillain...but the thing about supervillains is, we never know when to quit!” With that, he forced himself to get to his feet...only for the Murder Flash to knock him back down again and throw punch after punch after punch into his face and abdomen. He was about to start wondering if your life really did flash before your eyes right before you died...when suddenly, the Murder Flash was hit by what seemed to be a solid beam of light. He shrieked in apparent pain and fell unconscious. 

“Howzitgoan, Scudder?” Sam groaned. Saved by McCulloch...he was never going to live this one down. Then everything spun around, and the world went black. 

When he came to, Sam found himself in what looked like a hospital room, surrounded by Jennifer, Kathy, Kinsley, Samantha, McCulloch (ugh), and a man who could’ve been his identical twin. Undoubtedly, this was the other Sam Scudder. 

“Mornin’, Sleeping Beauty,” McCulloch said. 

“Shut up, McCulloch.” Sam winced as a wave of pain washed over him.

“How are you feeling?” This question came from the other Sam, which made it more than a little weird. 

“Like I got hit by a train,” Sam replied. 

“I can’t say I’m surprised. You’ve got four broken ribs and a concussion,” his counterpart replied. 

“I guess you’re Dr. Scudder. Nice to meet you, I think,” Sam said. 

“And you must be Sam. I spent almost a week in prison because of you….but on the other hand, you did risk your life to save my family, so I’d say we’re even on that front. I’ve been...curious to meet you,” Dr. Scudder replied. 

“Same here. So, optometry, huh?” 

“A bit on the nose for the Mirror Master, maybe, but it seems to be more profitable than crime,” Dr. Scudder said. Sam flushed. 

“Yeah, if there’s one thing pretending to be you taught me, it’s that I might want to consider cleaning up my act a bit,” he muttered. 

“If you need a place to start, I’d suggest kicking your smoking habit and treating your mother a little better.” 

“No promises...but I’ll think about it. And...I’m sorry about your mother, I guess. I don’t know what I’d do if my mother was killed,” Sam replied. 

“I...I still miss her...but I actually got to talk to your mom while I was in prison in your dimension, and I think...I think that helped me work through some of my feelings. It was like getting to talk to her one last time, just like I always wanted.” 

“If it helps, you’ve also got a great family. I wouldn’t almost die for just anyone,” Sam said. Dr. Scudder beamed as he put his arm around his wife. 

“Believe me, I know.” 

“Thanks for bringing our Dad back, Mr. McCulloch,” Kathy said. 

“And getting to see a cute lassie like you smile? The pleasure was all mine,” McCulloch replied cheerily. 

“You three are going to have to catch me up on what I missed after McCulloch and Sam go back to their own dimension,” Dr. Scudder said. The girls beamed. 

“You’re gonna love it, Dad! We’ve never had a story as cool as this before!” Kinsley exclaimed. Then she ran over to Sam and gave him a hug. 

“And that’s for saving our lives!” she exclaimed before running back to her dad. Then Jennifer walked up to him.

“I’m still not exactly happy with you...but what you did back there was pretty brave. Maybe you’ve got it in you to be more like my husband than either of us thought. You helped save my daughter’s lives and allowed my husband to have a family to come home to, so I suppose I need to thank you for that. But if you ever pull a stunt like this again, I will personally give you another four broken ribs!”

“You’re welcome.” 

“I hate tae cut this little reunion short, but it’s best if we get going. Scudder and I have our own reality tae get back tae,” McCulloch interjected. 

“Bye, Dr. Scudder,” Sam said. 

“Good-bye, Sam. Be careful going through the Mirror Realm. You don’t want to hurt yourself worse,” Dr. Scudder replied. 

“Good-bye, Jennifer. Good-bye, Kinsley. Good-bye, Kathy.” 

“Good-bye.” 

“Bye!” “Bye!” 

“Good-bye, other Daddy. I hope you find out how to be a good guy,” Samantha said. 

“Good-bye, Samantha,” Sam replied, tearing up. 

“Are ye crying?” McCulloch asked. 

“Shut up, McCulloch.” With that, Sam stood up (very gingerly) and allowed McCulloch to pull him into the Mirror Realm and back to his own dimension. 

“Welcome back, Scudder. Things haven’t been the same without ye, ye ken?” McCulloch said as they stepped into the Rogues’ latest hideout. Before Sam could react, he was greeted by a grouchy-looking Captain Cold and a baffled-looking Mark Mardon, the latter of whom was holding a strangely familiar toddler on his hip. 

“Hey, Cold. Hey, Mardon. Hello, little Josh,” Sam said. 

“Hey, Sam. Wait...how’d you know his name was Josh?” Mark asked.

“And why do you look like you just got run over by a train?” Cold added. 

“It’s a long story, and one I don’t think I’m up to telling at the moment. For now, let’s just say that I met the man in the mirror, and he changed me for the better.” 

[taelme]

Enemies-to-lovers!Jisung

request:  - anon: Could you maybe write an enemies to lovers like the Chan one but with jisung?? It was so good 😔😔😭🥺💞💞💖💘💘💞💗💞💗💕💞 can it be fluffy and Angsty hehe 😖 maybe where they're both college students -  anon: Can you do a Enemies to Lovers AU with chan!!! Where they're going to college and their families happen to be friends so they get an apartment together to save money, but the first time they meet it doesn't go well. Then yk, slowly w time they fall in love ahhaha... I love your writings btw!! 💓💞💓💝💓💞💓💝 (I recently sent the ask about the enemies to lovers au w chan that involved going to college.. since you literally just wrote an enemies to lovers au for chan if you want you can do my request (if u do it ahahha) with jisung!!)  - anon: I really love how you write au’s/fanfictions. I just want to know if u can write something about han jisung?? maybe a cafe love story or another tattoo artist just like chan? or maybe a studio date night?

genre: enemies-to-lovers!au, college!au, roommate!au, tattoo apprentice!jisung lol (fluff, a bit of angst) 

pairing/s: Han Jisung / Reader ( ft skz Bang Chan and nct/wayv/superm (lmao)  Lucas )

word count: 18k 

tw: I talk about like kind of sad stuff when jisung has like an artist’s block in this I guess 

a/n: thank u anons for being so patient with this request!! I rly hope that I managed to do it well and that you guys are satisfied with the outcome n have fun reading it hehe, it was kind of inspired by the song sunshine!! by stray kids so I hope that it gives u the same good vibes I got from the song while writing this :( ok bye 

If it were any other person standing in front of you, maybe you wouldn’t have regretted having an outburst in the café for the morning crowd to see.

The fight, or outburst (if you wanted to relieve him of any role in the exchange), had started rather simply. You were just having one of those days where it was raining outside, you were awake even before roosters were (in your opinion) and you had wanted nothing more than to just curl up in bed and sleep into the evening.

You had gone to grab your morning coffee, combating against the rain with your multi-coloured umbrella, as one does. Shoving the doors of the café open, you were met with shouts of names and storms of people squeezing to collect their orders. The whole ordeal would’ve made you pretty at ease if it weren’t for the coldness of your feet and the way your umbrella would cause someone to slip soon if you didn’t move.

Your shoes squelched against the shiny wood floors of the café, each step making you cringe as you waited anxiously to reach the front of the line, desperate to put an end to this experience. Thankfully enough, your order was pretty straightforward, so you’d collected it quickly, the small smiley face drawn on the cup by the staff serving to put you in a slightly less dreadful mood.

Stationing yourself at one of the empty tables you’d spotted by the exit, you set your still-dripping umbrella on the floor before you tried to get your tissues out to salvage whatever you could of your shoes. Shrugging off your coat, you’d draped it over the back of the seat.

Glancing at the time on your phone before you shoved your notes aside within your bag, you’d pushed your arm forward and opened your bag harshly, taking your box file out of your bag, almost nicking yourself against the broken corner of the file in your rush.

The next sequence of events happened quickly, and too ‘all-at-once’ for you to process. Upon taking out your box file, you’d heard a yelp behind you, followed by harsh footsteps and the splash of coffee on your box file.

Letting out a loud yelp of surprise as the person in question had stopped their fall with a loud thud of their hands against the pillar in front of you, they’d turned to you with wide-eyes, their eyebrows quickly furrowing into an expression that looked utterly ticked-off, their mouth already opening to speak.

You’d seemed to beat them to it, hurriedly grabbing your tissues to wipe down your file, checking for any brown-stains on your precious papers.

“What the hell,” you scoffed, casting a glance up at the boy. He had stood slightly taller than you, with rounded eyes and a defined nose, his lips pressed into a firm line.

He looked fairly young, from the way he dressed in brand-name basics to the way he was practically decked out in accessories. Call you biased, but if this was a senior or a child, you’d probably have let them off with it. But the way he was looking at you now was somehow successfully unnerving you, and you supposed admiring his annoyed features was about the last thing you should be doing at the moment.

“‘What the hell’?” He echoed your words, “who’s the one that chose to stand in the middle of nowhere to go through their damned bag?”

Your eyebrows raised in offence, your annoyance from before making itself known as you frowned, your grip on your bag tightening, “oh, and it’s my fault you have poor coordination?”

The boy had narrowed his eyes, mirroring your expression, his bracelets shifting on his wrist as he gestured at your umbrella on the floor.

“Your stupid umbrella was the reason I tripped in the first place,” he told you pointedly, strangely making you even more annoyed that he chose to attack not only you but your innocent umbrella too.

Your volume raised involuntarily with your frustration, “it’s so bright! It was basically screaming at you that it was there,” you defended, attracting a few customers attention with your outburst. You didn’t understand why you had to go through this so early in the morning when you were already irritable beyond belief.  

The boy seemed to have noticed this as well, discomfort washing over him at the feeling of the crowd’s stares. Ultimately deciding he would rather give up the fight with the crazy stranger from the café and leave before he was late for his job at the tattoo studio.

“Whatever,” he huffed, leaving the café, the bells at the doors jingling loudly as it swung back.

Something about the apology just wasn’t enough for you, (maybe you just expected more because he irked you) but you were already late enough for class. Rolling your eyes, you’d slung your bag around your shoulder with a thump, gripping your cup in your hands tightly and picking your umbrella (that now had an evident crease in one of its panels) up before running to class.

Your mom had called you halfway through the day while you were on your way to classes, the gesture enough to make you huff good-naturedly at her insistence.

“Hello?”

“Hey, honey, is this a good time?” her tone was practically dripping with motherly concern, making you let out a breathy laugh, nodding even though she couldn’t see you.

“Yeah, It’s fine,” you told her, “but anyway, I think my umbrella’s broken. Some idiot at the café this morning practically destroyed it with their stupid combat boots.”

Your mom didn’t seem to pay much attention to your rant, cutting straight to the point that she’d called you for.

“Have you met Jisung yet?”

You sighed as you entered the auditorium for your next lecture, lowering your head slightly as you found a seat around the middle of the hall.

“No, not yet. I’m only going over to the house after my classes end, remember? But I heard my stuff already got moved there,” you explained to her, holding your phone between your ear and your shoulder as you took your laptop from your bag, setting it on the table gently.

“Oh, do you want his phone number? To make things easier for the both of you,” she offered, earning a disinterested hum from you.


Your mom was more than excited about the fact that you would be 1. Not living in a residence within the school and 2. Living with the son of one of her friends from college. You figured your duty as her child now would be to appease her and at least try to live out her desires for you. Which in this case was sharing an apartment alone with some boy you didn’t even know. Maybe your mom was just a little more trusting than most.

You shrugged, “yeah, sure, just send it to me.”

Your mom let out a squeal, “I’m so excited for you to meet him, honey, he’s such a nice boy. You two are sure to get along. I’m so happy you agreed to this.”

Letting out a small sigh, you leant back in your seat as you held your phone with one hand, your other hand going to unlock your computer.

“I still feel like I’m imposing on them,” you hummed.

“Honey, it’s fine, Jisung’s parents insisted that you didn’t have to pay any rent.”

You hummed patronisingly, it wasn’t as if it was the first time she was telling you this, “yeah, uh-huh,” your attention was momentarily diverted by the tall boy that was standing next to you, gesturing to the empty seat with raised eyebrows.

“Sorry, is there anyone sitting here?”

Your lips parted, “okay, mom I gotta go I’ll call you once I’ve settled into the apartment.”

You did a once-over of the boy, who shook his head to get his bangs away from his eyes, giving you a wide smile. Gesturing for him to go ahead and sit down, he’d flopped down onto the seat with a sigh.

Letting go of his bag strap as he turned around, he gave you an appreciative nod as he opened his bag, pulling out a notebook and pen.

“First day, huh,” his voice was deeper than you’d remembered it to be from just seconds ago, his hand coming up to cover his growing smile as a little giggle escaped him, “I’m Lucas.”

“How’d you know?” You hummed, “and my name’s Y/N.” You swore you’d never seen a boy with such sparkly eyes before in your life.

Lucas shrugged, leaning his folded arms on the desk and turning his head slightly to observe you in your confusion, one hand shifting to play with his earring, “haven’t seen you around before.”

“You talk like you know everyone in the school,” you scoffed.  

Lucas didn’t seem to sense your sarcasm, simply giving you a shrug, “possibly. And also because it’s my second time taking this stupid class so I should know an unfamiliar face when I see one,” he told you, a hint of bitterness in his tone.

Your eyebrows raised, hearing the doors at the bottom of the auditorium open, a short stocky man walking through and making his way to the speaker’s desk.

“Second time? Why?” You hummed, keeping your gaze on the man in anticipation for what he was about to say.

Lucas cast a glare towards the professor, “I thought he was boring so I didn’t really go much for his lectures the last time, you know, because I thought they weren’t graded. But he decided to include them as passing criteria way too late.”

Lucas pointed at the professor, his sleeve riding up slightly to expose a tattoo at his wrist. You were starting to wonder if everyone at this place had tattoos, the sight seeming fairly common from just your few hours in the school.

You winced, nodding, already getting the sensing that this man was someone you needed to be on good terms with.

“Alright, class, enough talking. From now on, I’m the only one that should be talking so I expect nothing but your full attention from here onwards.”

This was going to be a long lecture.

===

Your mom had texted you the Jisung kid’s number, and you’d dropped him a text saying you were on your way to the apartment, getting a reply from him that he was on his way there as well. You figured he seemed pretty polite, from the way he texted you, so you guessed that helped in making you dread the whole arrangement less.

When you’d reached, you’d ended up at an apartment building that looked fairly plain, walking in to the lobby and scanning the sparsely decorated notice board for residents, the last thing put up being a picnic for families that was 3 months ago.

Stepping into the lift, you’d noticed that though it was relatively well-maintained, it seemed rather dull, from the prison-grey lights to how the mirrors were covered for maintenance. Thankfully, your apartment itself was relatively well-maintained (you remembered your mom telling you the apartment was previously being rented out by Jisung’s parents), aside from the space being a little not-so conducive. But well, they were letting you live here for free, so you couldn’t complain.

Setting your things down onto the sofa in the living room, you moved to examine the respective rooms, frowning when you realised that whoever Jisung was, he’d taken the room with the bigger bed, his clothes either already hung up on the clothing rack or stacked up on his bed.

Walking into what you assumed was your room now, you tried to envision how you could make this space more conducive. From moving the bed aside to switching the desk out to the living room for more light, you tried out different permutations in your head, your time as an amateur interior designer cut short when you heard the rustling of keys at the front door.

Smoothing your hair down to make sure it was neat, you’d dodged the boxes of stuff as you leant over the sofa, curious to see what this Jisung kid would look like.

Jisung had done the same outside the door, making sure his hair and clothes were somewhat presentable before pushing the door open. And immediately wanting to close it back.

“You’re Jisung?”

“You’re Y/N?”

The two of you spoke simultaneously, disbelief and shock written over your features as you pointed an accusatory finger at him.

Like you mentioned before, maybe if the boy at the café this morning wasn’t Jisung, you would’ve regretted your actions a lot less.

Jisung gave you a look of disbelief, stepping into the apartment and folding his arms across his chest, his bag still hanging from his shoulder. He couldn’t wrap his head around how unlucky he must have been to have had such a bad encounter with someone he was about to spend probably his entire college life living with.

He sighed deeply, “now I don’t feel like paying the rent on your behalf anymore.”

You rolled your eyes, “your parents are paying the rent, not you. You have no say in it.”

Jisung made a sound of protest, shaking his head vigorously, his eyes widening in his aggravation.

“No, they aren’t. I told them to let me take care of it because I felt bad for them. But I don’t feel bad for you, so you’re gonna have to split the rent with me.”

Your lips parted, fumbling for a response.

Jisung’s expression was expectant, provoking you almost, “what? Would you rather get an apartment on your own? ‘Cause I’d be more than happy to let my parents know.”

You wanted to cry. It was already the start of the school term so staying in the dorms was out of the question for you already, the deadline having closed long ago. And you knew that finding another apartment in the school district that was within your budget was going to be a pain in the ass. So as much as you hated to admit it, splitting the rent with Jisung was your best option. You needed to get a job asap.

You rolled your eyes, “well…well then why do you get the bigger room?” You huffed, mirroring his stance as you folded your arms across your chest.

Jisung gave you a mocking pout, “simple, ‘cause I got here first,” he brought his hand up, inspecting his nails.

“You should be glad I’m not charging you extra for inconveniencing me,” he added.

Not being able to help but let a small gasp leave you, you were quick to respond, “inconveniencing you? You were the one that got coffee all over my file.”

Jisung shrugged, “potato, potato. Doesn’t change the fact that you made me late for work.”

You clenched your jaw, watching with a glare as he strolled past you, gesturing to the space in the living room which you’d been planning on using as a work area, “I have dibs on this space.”

You frowned, mumbling, “I wanted to shift the desk in my room out here, though.”

“Oh, that’s too bad. Wanna consider moving out now?”

You inhaled deeply, brushing past him to grab your luggage that contained your clothes.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” you huffed in annoyance as you walked into your room, his laughter echoing behind you.

===

“How can you say that? Jisung is a very nice boy,” your mother cried, making you roll your eyes, glaring at your phone from where you were hanging your clothes up.

“He’s the idiot that I fought with at the café, it’s not like I’m saying this without reason.”

You heard your mom sigh deeply, conversing with your dad about something in the background, “try to put your attitude aside for once, please, I’m begging you.”

You groaned, kicking your luggage aside before you made your way over to your bed, flopping down next to your phone with a loud sigh, wincing at the feeling of the springs in your mattress. You were so sure Jisung’s bed was more comfortable.

“It’s not me that has the attitude, it’s him,” you mumbled, sulkiness evident in your tone.

“Enough, Y/N," she said sternly, "If I hear anymore complaints you’re really gonna be in for it.”

You kicked at your blanket, “fine, goodnight. Love you.”

You hung up, staring at your desk as you contemplated on whether to move it into the living room now or tomorrow, distracted from your thoughts when you could hear the water running, not to mention the awfully loud sound of Jisung singing in the shower.

How thin were the walls? Your glare had shifted to your door now.

“Can you keep it down?” You shouted, hearing a silence on his end momentarily. Heaving a sigh of relief, you turned around in your bed only to hear him resume his singing, except this time, you swore it got louder.

Burying your head under your pillow, you kicked at your blanket, hoping this was the worst it could get. It wasn’t that bad, right? You could deal with simple shower concerts. Maybe living with him wasn’t going to be as hard as you thought.

===

Safely to say, you should’ve thought otherwise.  

The very first time you realised you'd underestimated Han Jisung, was when you'd gone to the fridge to fix yourself something for dinner, only to find post-its on every single one of the items that read : 'property of han jisung! not for y/n'

You'd moved to look for something else to eat that was unlabelled, only realising then that he'd even gone to the (very petty) extent of labelling the snacks in the cupboard.  

Huffing, you'd shrugged your coat on, grabbed your wallet and made a trip to the grocery store.

Cursing him in your head as you shoved your items into your basket, earning yourself looks of scandal from the elders who were for whatever reason still in the grocery store, though you couldn’t be bothered to look more amiable. You’d wanted nothing more than to throw out Jisung’s groceries, but of course, you were a nice person, so you wouldn’t do that. It seemed like you just couldn't get a break when your phone had begun to buzz in your pocket.

"Hey, mom," you hummed, trying not to sound too tired lest she started to drill you about resting. You brought your groceries over to the self-checkout aisle, heaving them onto the small platform with a grunt.

"Have you eaten dinner?"

You huffed, "we didn't have enough food, so I went to buy some groceries." Biting back your tongue, you rolled your eyes, scanning your items and bagging them angrily.

"How's finding a job been?"

You shrugged, Lucas had told you about various job openings nearby your house, (surprising you with how much he knew about the area) one of them you were looking into was a simple job at a café near your apartment. Thankfully, not the one that you'd had your little ‘encounter’ with Jisung at.

"Pretty alright, nothing too difficult,” you hummed, fumbling to pull out your card so you could make your payment, ignoring the stares you were getting from the people queueing up behind you.

"Alright, that's good to hear."

"Everything alright with you and dad at home?" you asked, shoving your card back into your wallet before slinging the bags onto your forearms, beginning to walk out of the supermarket.

"Yes, of course. Don't worry about us, we just miss you."

You sighed, something about the night air putting you in a drowsy mood, "me too. I never realised how much I liked living with you guys till now..."

"Don't tell me you're still having a hard time with Jisung," you heard her tone, your knew that this was her way of implying she didn't want to hear anything other than that you and Jisung's housemate experience was just peachy.

"Don't worry, mom, everything's... fine."

You'd tugged your coat closer to yourself, giving her whatever updates you figured she'd want to know before hanging up, enjoying the peaceful walk before you reached your apartment, figuring this was as much peace you were going to get before you returned to the apartment to be met with his stupid antics again.

And surely enough, the evening breeze accompanied with the sounds of faint conversation from the restaurants nearby had started to put you in a rather drowsy mood, making you start to contemplate if you were even still hungry, the lure of sleep starting to seem more tempting.

Reaching your apartment building, the lift lobby illuminated by a harshly bright lightbulb, you’d bumped into one of the ladies living on the same floor as you exited the lift on your floor, watching as her eyes widened in surprise, giving you a small smile as she enquired.

“Oh, are you the resident from apartment 19B?" you nodded.

If you were drowsy before, you sure weren't drowsy anymore.

You flinched slightly when her expression had changed in an instant, her once amiable expression now replaced with an annoyed glare.

"Can you please refrain from singing so loudly in the middle of the night? Some of us are trying to sleep."

Your eyebrows raised, shaking your head as you slot your keys into the keyhole, opening the door just a crack, "oh, sorry, that's not me that's my housemate—”

The middle-aged lady had narrowed her eyes at you, "you know, It's not ethical for someone as young as you to be living with a man when you're so young—”

"Okay, sorry, won't happen again!" you told her quickly in your attempt to appease her, shoving the door open and slamming it behind you, turning around only to see Jisung standing in the living room, dressed in loungewear with black gloves on his hands as he pointed at you in amusement, his shoulders shaking as he laughed.

"Aw, I'm not the only one that thinks it's not ethical for you to live here," he pouted.

You rolled your eyes, "I can't believe she thought I was the one singing," you huffed, going over to the kitchen to see yet more dishes in the sink.

Pointing at them with a look of disbelief on your face, "are you not gonna clean these either?"

Jisung turned around, looking at the sink with evident contempt, shrugging. He held his hands up to you, showing you that they were currently gloved.

"I'm a little busy, why don't you do me a favour this once? Consider it compensation," he grinned, making his way back to....your room?

"What are you doing in my room?" you asked, shoving the last of your groceries haphazardly into the fridge before you'd followed him into your room, shutting your mouth quickly when you saw that he’d practically set up a work station next to your desk, looking closer to find that he was using what looked like tattoo equipment.

“Practicing,” he shrugged.

You didn’t bother asking what his business using tattoo equipment was, simply huffing in exasperation, “and you had to do it in my room, of all places?”

Jisung nodded, pushing one of his sleeves up on his shoulder, revealing a rather big tattoo on his arm that was partially hidden by his sleeve.

“This is the only room with an accessible plug and a good enough space to work in.”

“Then why didn’t you just take this room as your bedroom?” You were dumbfounded at the way he was so nonchalant about his actions, the buzzing of the tattoo needle resuming as he practised on fake skin.

“I like to sleep in a comfortable bed,” he shrugged, leaning back to look at his tattoo.

“And you think I don’t?” You shot back, your hands going to your hips, his reply coming just as quick.

“Well, for $300 bucks above the rent maybe you can,” he smirked, using a tissue to rub at the fake skin, looking at you as he poked his tongue in his cheek, quirking his eyebrows before turning back to continue tattooing.

That night, you remembered asking Lucas if he knew who Jisung was, since he’d mentioned how he was pretty into tattoos, having a few of his own, his reply only making you wonder if the world was just small or you were just unlucky.

lucas wong

8:53pm - oh yeah I know him! he’s apprentice-ing at the tattoo shop I usually go to, he’s pretty good-

8:53pm - why? do u like him? I cld put in a good word for u-

You sighed deeply

8:53pm - no thanks im good-

Little did you know, the next time Lucas had visited the the tattoo studio, he’d spotted Jisung working on his designs at one corner of the room, going against your request and disturbing Jisung even despite how he looked like that was the last thing he wanted, too focused on the shadings of his chrysanthemum flower sketch on his tablet to have paid attention to Lucas' entrance.

“Hey, do you know anyone named Y/N?”

Jisung’s face scrunched up in distaste, looking up at Lucas and hoping desperately that he was joking, “don’t tell me… freshman Y/N?”

Lucas nodded, his eyes lighting up in excitement, “yeah! So you guys do know each other.”

Jisung made an uncertain sound, “I wouldn’t call it much of a relationship. Y/N’s my housemate.”

Jisung’s words had sparked a realisation in Lucas, the latter only piecing together your disdain towards Jisung with your stories about your ‘asshole housemate’

Lucas’ silence had caught Jisung off guard, making Jisung look up at Lucas expectantly, “sorry, you wanted to go get something to eat, right?”

Lucas nodded, masking his shock with a smile, recovering quickly.

“Wait, lemme go call Chan,” Jisung murmured, beckoning the boy who was currently snacking at the reception area.

“Where do you guys wanna go?” Lucas asked, earning a hum from Chan.

“I kinda wanted to get a smoothie,” Chan admitted sheepishly, though thankfully, Jisung and Lucas didn’t seem to have a problem with that.


“Why didn’t you wanna go to the other café? They’ve got better smoothies,” Lucas wondered out loud, making Jisung snort.

“We’re only going there because Chan has a fat crush on one of the baristas.” 


Which was what ended them up at the café you worked at.

The moment they had entered, you noticed your colleague tense beside you, bending down to pretend to take something from below the counter. 


“Shit, they’re here. Oh my god, help,”

You furrowed your eyebrows, “who?”

“That cute tattoo artist guy I was telling you about!” She whispered harshly, standing up and greeting the boys with a smile, her heart eyes directed particularly at one of them with curly hair.

Only then did you realise Lucas and Jisung were there, receiving an overwhelming feeling of wanting to bang your head into the cash register. You already saw him enough at home, and now you had to see him at work too?

“Hi, how may I help you?” You smiled at the curly haired boy, casting a glare in Jisung’s direction, the boy looking equally as dismayed to see you here.

“Hello, can I get the berry smoothie?” He asked, and you stepped aside, letting your colleague ring up his order while you prepared his drink, giving it to your colleague to serve since she’d spent so long talking to him.

Lucas had mouthed a ‘sorry’ to you when he’d gone to sit at one of the tables with Chan, Jisung lingering at the cashier as your colleague went to the backroom to squeal.

“What do you want?” you wore a bored expression.

Jisung looked almost too focused, his eyes glaring at the laminated menu between the both of you.

“I changed my mind, I want a drink too.”

You suppressed your urge to roll your eyes, your finger scratching at the corner of the cash register, “you couldn’t have ordered it like five seconds ago?”

Jisung shot you a look, “yeah, well I didn’t want it five seconds ago.”

Inhaling deeply, you’d gestured to the menu, and now not only was your expression bored-to-death, but your tone was too, "what do you want?”

“I want an iced americano,” he told you, pausing before he added, “and ask your friend to make it. I don’t trust you not to spit in my drink.”

You gave him a sarcastic smile, “good call.”

Ringing up his order, you’d called your friend, dismissing any thought of ever having a normal encounter with Jisung.

Upon returning to his table, Chan had given him a look, "Lucas told me you know the cashier."

"Not the one you think is cute, don't worry,” Jisung sighed, glancing in his drink just for good measure.  

Chan's eyebrows lifted in amusement, "so the one you think is cute?"

Almost instinctually, Jisung replied, "yeah," paying more attention to his drink than his words. Looking up when he heard Chan and Lucas struggle to stifle their giggles.

"What?"

Lucas clapped his hands together, his smile wide, "you just said Y/N was cute."

"No, I didn't, you did." Jisung shot back quickly. It was obvious that retaliation didn't always have to make sense for him.

Chan had a curious glint in his eyes now, the corner of his lips quirking up into a smirk, "I mean, you guys do live together right, and you've really never thought anything about her?"

“I did, I thought her nagging was annoying as hell,” Jisung shrugged.


Chan narrowed his eyes at Jisung, an amused smirk on his face, “you know that’s not what I meant.”

Jisung gave Chan a pointed look, "I'd appreciate if you wouldn't stir shit, especially not in front of him." Jisung pointed at Lucas.

"You didn't answer the question," Lucas sing-songed.

Jisung scoffed, casting a furtive glance towards your direction where you were smiling as your colleague showed you something on their phone.

Jisung shrugged, it wasn’t as if you looked bad or anything, with his pride, he’d probably have told Chan that you were pretty if he squinted.

“Guess if they smiled more they'd be...decent."


Lucas raised his eyebrows, enjoying the scene playing out in front of him very much, “decent, huh.”

Chan leant back in his seat, shaking his head at Jisung, "now I feel like I have to make you my apprentice for relationships too."

Jisung scoffed, regaining his usual confidence.

"If by that you mean you want me to stand at the counter giggling my ass off like how you did with that cashier then no thanks, I'm good on my own."

===

You'd tried your best to tolerate Jisung, especially after Lucas fed you some story about how he takes a while to warm up to people (which you totally bought).

This tolerance came in the form of things like waking up earlier to use the bathroom so the both of you wouldn't have to fight in the morning, or giving him reminders to do the laundry or clean the dishes but only doing them after he forgot the third reminder.

Jisung usually forgot to turn off the lights whenever he went to sleep (though sometimes he did it on purpose, not liking the eerie darkness of the house when the lights were off), so you would always end up waking from the glare of the lights that seeped into your room, stepping over the mess of clothes or socks (sometimes even shoes) in the walkways and turning them off for him instead of nagging him about the lights. See? Tolerance.

Call you a pushover or whatever, but you kind of prided yourself on how your well of patience seemed to run deep. Very deep. Deeper than the average human, you supposed, even.

However, days like the ones you were having now, just didn't seem to let you draw from that well of patience.

You'd started off your shitty morning when you'd slept through your alarm, needing your usual work clothes but realising that Jisung hadn't done the laundry, leaving you with no choice but to grab the nearest hoodie you could find on your bedroom floor and sprint to work.

If that wasn't enough, you'd landed cashier duty as punishment for being late, your social battery starting to empty not even halfway through the day. Your 'hi, how may I help you's slowly turning to 'what would you like's to eventually 'hi's and ending up with a small smile and gesture towards the menu.

It didn't help that Chan, the tattoo artist your colleague had an obvious thing for, had shown up halfway to try and strike a conversation with you about Jisung, much to no avail.

“Aren’t you wondering why Jisung isn’t here?” You remembered him asking, to which you’d shook your head.

“Not really,” you shrugged, earning a thoughtful hum from Chan.

“Really? You’re not even the slightest bit curious?”

You had shook your head at him then, remembering the way he looked so shocked to have made you even more curious about why he was asking you this in the first place.  

By the time you were done with your work, you'd wanted nothing more than to just go home, take the longest shower of your life and curl up in your horribly uncomfortable bed. Except you couldn't even do that, because you had unfinished readings for your class the next day.

You figured if you sat yourself at your desk with no distractions you could be done sooner and go to sleep sooner, but your one distraction had just come home from the tattoo studio and was somehow getting on your nerves even more today.

Not only had he been acting as if he was the opera community's 'next big thing', he'd proceeded to seat himself on the sofa behind you, watching whatever show he was into loudly, seeming to find whatever the protagonist was saying to be too hilarious to just enjoy the show silently.

You figured you could handle that much, you know, having to live up to your preachings on tolerance, deciding to breathe deeply and suppress your urge to tell him to shut up, and soon enough, he'd disappeared.

But your joy was short lived, once again, when Jisung came back out, singing as he made a snack for himself and proceeded to eat it right in front of you, the smell growing more and more distracting.

Now, he was now lounging on the sofa in the living room, headphones on and connected to his laptop that rest on his stomach, but still typing away with his phone not on silent, the keyboard sounds distracting you from your reading. You figured, maybe your well of patience was just closed today.

“Hey,” you called. No response. If anything, the silence of the apartment had made his typing sounds even louder.

“Hey, oh my god, can you like put your phone on silent or something?" You tried again. Still no response, now, he was humming in between his pauses before he would type another burst of words on his phone.

Deciding you had to take matters into your own hands, you stormed over to where he was, your book still in your hands as you stood in front of him, making him turn to you with wide-eyes.

Pulling his headphones off of his head, he frowned, "what?"

“This,” you gestured pointedly towards his phone, “put your phone on silent, it's distracting me."

Jisung would've complied, though a part of him couldn't help but be annoyed by your nagging, his instinct prompting him to act defensively, “why don’t you just listen to some music or something? Then my typing sounds wouldn’t be a problem,” he told you dismissively, making you groan in frustration.

“I can’t study with music, it’s already hard enough for me to focus as it is.”

Jisung was annoyed, “It’s just a typing sound, what are you getting so worked up for? You’re always getting on my back about everything when I’m just minding my own business."

You let out a groan, "look, it's been more than a month, and i'm up to here with your shit," you held a hand way above your head for emphasis, any of your tolerance long gone out of the window (which he had also left open, making the apartment chilly and noisy).

Jisung's eyebrows knit in a frown, your outburst coming as a shock to him, "fine, whatever. I'll put my phone on silent, chill."

You shook your head, your gaze firm and unwavering, "no, I wanna make rules."

Rules? Jisung wanted to scoff. What was this, a second-grade classroom?

Jisung stared at you in shock, nodding dumbly. "Rules....oka-alright, yeah. Let's make rules."

You nodded firmly, "first of all, if you're gonna make food at ungodly hours in the morning, eat it in your own room."

"And the dishes, clean up after yourself," you added, gripping your book tightly in your hand.

“Stop leaving your shit in the corridors,” you continued, “and pack up your shoes it’s such a mess at the door way I can barely walk into the house,” you huffed, feeling as though with every rule you made you were finally letting your feelings be heard.

Jisung wracked his brains for a rule of his own, finding ways to regain control over the situation, "well, I have a rule too! You gotta stop nagging me to do shit," he sat up, setting his headphones on the sofa cushion.

You let out a tiny gasp, "excuse me? I only ask you to ‘do shit’ that you should be doing."

Before you could get carried away, you continued, "and as for the laundry—”

Jisung perked up, “okay, how about this. I do the dishes and you do the laundry," he suggested with a forced smile, bringing a hand up to run it through his hair, which fell back against his forehead gently.

"You know for a fact that that’s not the same, so we'll switch," you told him, "you do laundry on one week when I do the dishes, and the next week i'll do the laundry and you do the dishes. Fair, right?"

Jisung huffed, rolling his eyes, "whatever."

At the mention of laundry, Jisung glanced over at what you were wearing, frowning at the familiarity of his hoodie.

"Good, now that we have an agree—”

"That's mine," he pointed at your stomach, making you look at him in disbelief.

"Huh?" Your stomach? Your hands found their way to cover your stomach.

"The hoodie. It's mine."

You looked down at the hoodie you were wearing, a frown evident on your face. You didn't know what he was talking about, you had this hoodie since you were in high-school, it couldn't be his.

"No, it's mine. I had this since I was in high-school," you frowned, unsure if this was some sort of joke he was trying to play.

Jisung couldn't hide his amusement, letting a laugh slip from his lips, "yeah, so did I... which is why I know that that's mine."

You scoffed, "it was on my bedroom floor," you mumbled, seeing him nod patronisingly.

"Because I left it there," he told you, enunciating his words slower, shocking you when he'd reached over and grabbed you by the sleeve, raising your hand up for you to see.

"Look, this stain. It's tattoo ink. I would know because you're wearing the wrong hoodie. New rule, don’t wear my clothes.”

You stood silent, huffing as you removed the hoodie, leaving you in your shirt and sweats, tossing the hoodie at him in annoyance, the smirk on his face making you even more annoyed.

"Fine, take your stupid hoodie, I don’t wanna wear your stupid clothes anyway,” you huffed, “and you’re on laundry duty this week."

You didn't finish your readings that night.

===

You would like to think your rule system was working pretty well, seeing as you didn't find yourself butting heads with Jisung as often as before.

Halfway into the semester, you had grown busier with your assignments, which had managed to take your attention away from Jisung.

Though you were certainly more tired than usual, from attending birthday parties of friends to working, to rushing your readings during any free time you got (not to mention squeezing in any bit of sleep whenever you could), to rushing through your assignments just to meet the packed deadlines. But you couldn’t complain, this was typical for any college student you knew.

But of course, that didn’t mean you weren’t itching for a break, eyeing the semester break on your calendar that was fast approaching, letting yourself get carried away during classes with Lucas as you both planned on your pieces of scrap paper all the things you’d wanted to do during the break.

Similarly, Jisung had grown busier at the tattoo studio, and Chan had recommended him to a music producer that was interested in hearing Jisung's compositions.

Jisung was more than thankful that Chan had given him that opportunity, of course, but what was bothering him was the pain-in-the-ass creative block he was beginning to struggle with.

Not only was he struggling to find inspiration for a song he'd wanted to make, but the process seemed almost painfully slow, with how he'd fumble around with ideas that he would start on but eventually scrap, deciding that he 'wasn't feeling it'.

He'd started receiving commissions for tattoo designs, and you'd noticed he wasn't at home as often as he was before because he'd made it a point to coop himself up in the studio to try to churn out these design requests.

Fortunately, his customers were always satisfied (and he thought that was great, you know, with all the good words from Chan he was getting), but he wasn't.

Chan had seemed to sense this too, making sure to check in on Jisung more than usual during this period.

"Hey, I'm heading home a little earlier today, you'll be fine alone?"

Jisung's head lifted when he heard Chan's voice, pulling one of his earbuds from his ear as he nodded.

Chan glanced at Jisung's papers scattered around him, of half-done or halfway-abandoned sketches, giving him a look of sympathy, "don't work too hard, alright?" he huffed, glancing out of the window.

"I heard it might rain tonight, so make sure you get home before the rain hits, alright?"

Jisung waved Chan off, not paying any care to the impending rain as he bid Chan goodbye, continuing to tap his pencil on the table in his search for good ideas.

Maybe he needed to consult a lifeline.

"Hello, Lucas?"

The said lifeline was more than happy to hear Jisung's voice, having heard from you that he wasn't home as much recently, a part of him concerned as well.

"Hey, man, what's up?"

Jisung hummed, "wanted to ask if you had any ideas on what tattoos you think would be cool."

Lucas snorted, "you're asking me? You could draw a turd and i'd want to get it tattooed. Dude, you're too good, just go with your gut."

Jisung let out a whine, "my gut's not being very useful right now."

Lucas hummed, letting out an urgent grunt of surprise, "I know! Why don't you take a look at your older designs, maybe they'd give you some vibes or something."

Jisung shrugged, figuring this was probably the best advice he was gonna get, thanking Lucas before hanging up.

Picking up his tablet, Jisung had scrolled through his various sketches until he'd reached the very first few designs, sighing at the sight of the sketches, looking at his first sketch of a peony flower, with leaves dangling along the stem wedged between the budding flowers.

Jisung figured he wouldn't let his dissatisfaction subside until he tried doing a better rendition of the sketch, to refine the shading or the flow of the shape from what he'd learnt from Chan overtime.

Putting back his earbuds in, he turned his music up, beginning to work on the sketch, riding on the motivation he was afraid would disappear at any given moment.

Jisung was surprised at how fast he was done, ( only to look at the clock and realise he wasn't that fast and that it was already a little past midnight ). Removing his earbuds and going back to the sound of the whirring air conditioner and the loud sound of rain thumping against the gravel outside, Jisung knew he was done for.

He hadn't brought an umbrella with him, and the rain frankly didn't look like it was going to stop anytime soon, Jisung contemplated his very limited options.

Was a binder enough to shield him from the rain? Probably not. But was it better than putting down his pride to text you to come and pick him up? He thought the binder was better, honestly.

Deciding to try his luck anyway, he'd sent you a text.

Little did Jisung know, you'd dozed off on your bed while reading, the vibration of your phone next to your face having woken you from your nap, the sound of the rain outside harshly thumping against the window.

han jisung 12:37am -hello, housemate. it is your housemate, han jisung. its raining rly badly. wld u be so kind as to come to the tattoo studio with an umbrella for me pls :D-

You frowned in annoyance, your eyes barely open as you replied him. There was no way you were going to send yourself out in the thunderstorm like that.

12:37am - no. just wait until it stops raining-

Thinking that had settled your worries, you'd shoved your phone underneath your pillow, deciding you'd let yourself sleep in since tomorrow was a Saturday after all.

You should've known better, that this was Jisung, the 'i'm tougher than a little bit of rain' Jisung, so you should've seen it coming when you'd woken up to the sound of his incessantly ringing phone.

Rolling out of your bed with a grunt, you'd pushed yourself off of the bed, ready to confront Jisung about not answering his phone.

Walking across the corridor and pushing his bedroom door open, you'd been met with an empty room, frowning as you walked over to the bed, picking the phone up and stopping the alarm.

You noticed that he'd received a few texts from Chan, not being able to help yourself from reading them.

chan 1:20am - dude! why didnt u just wait for the rain to stop?- 1:22am -  ure gna fall sick…-

Frowning, you made your way into the living room, spotting Jisung curled up on the sofa with his blanket at his feet, an instant feeling in your gut that something was wrong.

“Jisung?” You called, seeing his eyebrows furrow slightly.

In spite of yourself, you’d walked over to where he lay, your hand coming out to nudge at his shoulder with his phone.

“Hey, are you…alright?” You watched and waited as he opened his eyes slowly, blinking at you in a daze. There was perspiration beading at his temples despite the coolness of the apartment, giving you more reason to feel like there was something wrong.

As much as you didn’t like him, you couldn’t help but feel as though you were responsible for him, and it was kind of your fault that he’d walked back in the rain. You glanced at your brightly-coloured umbrella leaning against the wall, figuring there was something about this umbrella that always got you into trouble with Jisung.

You suppressed your hesitation, bringing a hand up to his forehead, Jisung not even daring to budge even an inch as you pushed his bangs back. The back of your hand pressing against his forehead gently, your breath hitching at the sheer heat of his body.

This was probably the most contact you’d ever had with him in your months of living together, and Jisung knew this too, not knowing how to feel about the concern you were showing him, feeling as though it was some kind of ridiculous fever dream.

“You walked home in the rain didn’t you?” You murmured, your feeling of guilt growing as you saw him nod at you.

You cursed inwardly, “do you have a thermometer?” 


Jisung shook his head, attempting to get up, “it’s fine, I can take care of myself, just give me my phone.”

You handed him his phone, ignoring his previous statement as you went into the kitchen in your search for any kind of medicine you could give him, cursing once again when you realised there was none. Trust the both of you to only care to buy groceries.

“We don’t have jack shit in this house,” you groaned, walking over to the bathroom, finding a cloth and a small pail to fill with cold water, bringing it over to the coffee table and setting it down next to the sofa.

“I’ve gotta go to work,” Jisung sighed, though he made no move to get up, a part of him just waiting for you to refute him so he could use you as an excuse to get off work.

You shot him a look, “no, you don’t. Shut up and lie down, I’ll go and buy your stupid medicine. If I come back and you’re not here I’ll kill you,” you warned, missing the way Jisung had complied happily, lying back down with his head on one of the sofa cushions.

Squeezing the water from the cloth, you may have slapped it a little harshly on his forehead, earning an annoyed glare from him.

Walking to grab your wallet, you cast one last look at his bored face, seeing him rush to close his eyes when he saw you glaring.

“I mean it, you better stay here.”

Jisung nodded, waving you off.

On your way to the pharmacy, you couldn’t help but wonder if it was a good thing that Jisung was sick.

In terms of your pros, if he was sick, he wouldn’t be able to annoy you, right? And him being sick meant that you’d basically had your desk and your bedroom to yourself, with him unable to practice tattooing in your room and use your desk as his sketching station.

In terms of your cons… well, you were planning on getting some rest today, and having to watch Jisung meant you would technically have to be near him, wouldn’t you? You were starting to wonder if that was even a con that he was basically giving you an excuse to laze around and watch tv.

“Hi, how may I help you?” The pharmacist asked.

You hummed, “uh…do you have those over-the-counter medicine and stuff for like someone with fever?”

The pharmacist nodded, pulling out the various boxes and pointing at each one, confusing you with the sheer amount of names she was listing, resulting in you just choosing the one you recognised your parents telling you to take whenever you were sick.

Making your payment, you swallowed whatever pride you had that was making you hesitate. You figured Jisung falling sick was karma for that text you sent him the night before, so you decided that you were going to see him recover for yourself.

Upon returning to the house, you’d shrugged your jacket off, making your way over to where he was, sitting on your heels next to where he was so you could gently peel the cloth from his head, replacing it with one that was soaked in colder water.

You’d drawn back slightly when you felt Jisung flinch as you laid the towel on his forehead, opening one eye to look at you, “that was fast.”

You rolled your eyes, shushing him as you took the medicine out, along with a glass of water you’d gotten from the kitchen, bringing it over to him with an expectant look.

Jisung took them from you wordlessly, swallowing them down as he averted his gaze from you, unsure why you were looking at him like some kicked puppy.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, reaching over to grab the television remote in an attempt to calm your nerves, “this is kind of my fault. Since I didn’t go over to the tattoo studio yesterday.”

Jisung took a moment to process what you said, wincing as he let out a (fake) cough, only serving to make you feel even more guilty than you already were.

“Are you actually…apologising to me?” Jisung’s smile was poorly hidden behind his hand, making you roll your eyes, your guilt ever-present when you looked at him.

Jisung sighed, deciding to let you off this once, “seriously, it’s no big deal. I didn’t expect you to come, anyway. I was just trying my luck,” he told you, making you frown, your mouth forming a slight pout.

“I was just being petty, I’m…” you trailed off, shaking your head, “yeah, whatever, I’m just really sorry.”

Jisung looked at you with a hint of a smile on his face, taking his lower lip between his teeth as he nodded. He wasn’t sure if it was his fever, or the way your gestures were exuding warmth, but Jisung swore just for a moment. A second, almost, he kind of thought you looked cute.

Jisung nodded, “I’ll let you know by the end of the day.”

You frowned, turning away from the television to face him, your back resting on the sofa slightly, “let me know about what?”

Jisung kept his gaze fixed on the television, bringing his hand up to scratch at his collarbone, hints of his tattoos peeking out from his neckline.


Shrugging, Jisung’s gaze shifted to meet yours, “if your apology is accepted.”

You were sure that your mom would’ve just laughed in your face if you told her about your experience today, as you began to realise just how much you didn’t hate Jisung’s company when the both of you weren’t trying to fight each other.

In the few hours that had passed alone, you’d learnt much more about him than you had bothered to in your months living with him. You’d learnt that he was a music major, that wanted to pursue a career in music production, and that he’d gotten interested in tattoos when he’d met this kid named Changbin in his class, who introduced him to Chan for an apprenticeship.

As for Jisung? He was just learning that you weren’t as intolerable as he thought you were.

You’d ordered food for the both of you, Jisung having refused to eat porridge, and you were currently having an actual, comfortable conversation with him, the hallmark movie playing on the television long forgotten.

Jisung’s phone had started to ring, interrupting him mid-sentence as he told you about how the tattoo studio works, making you lean over to check who it was.

“It’s Chan.”

Jisung grimaced, “speak of the devil,” he scoffed. Shaking his head vigorously as you made to grab his phone, Jisung set his chopsticks down hurriedly to reach for his phone, only to grab air when you’d answered the call.

“Hello?” You heard Chan speak, an urgency to his tone.

“Hey, this is Y/N. Jisung is…not feeling so well right now.”

Jisung shot you a look, bringing his hands around his throat with his chopsticks held between his fingers, acting as if he was so sick he was about to pass out, making loud coughing noises in the background.

You couldn’t help but smile, scrunching your nose and waving him off in your attempt to get him to stop before he choked on his food.

Chan sighed, “Is he, now? Tell him I’m shifting today’s appointment to next Wednesday. Anyway, thanks, Y/N, bye,” he hung up promptly after.

You gave Jisung a grim look, setting the phone down slowly onto the coffee table, “Chan said he’s shifting your appointment to Wednesday.”

Jisung’s lips parted, almost forgetting his cheeks were full of food, tilting his head back to groan.

“Chan’s gonna kill me.”

“Why?”

Jisung shoved more food into his mouth, chewing slowly, “I totally forgot, I was supposed to do this girl’s tattoo today, but cause I’m, you know, sick,” he gave you a pointed look, “I can’t do it.”

“You do tattoos already? I thought you were still just…”

Jisung rolled his eyes, “what? Still just tattooing on fake skin?”

You nodded sheepishly, earning a sigh from him, though you didn’t miss the small smile on his face.

“I’ll have you know, I can tattoo people now. You know Lucas’ tattoo of the angel looking mermaid hybrid type thing?”

You hummed in thought, his description oddly specific yet successfully helping you visualise the tattoo, gesturing to your forearm, “the one he got here?”

Jisung nodded, “I did that for him.”

Your eyes widened, impressed at the scale of Jisung’s detail in his design, remembering how enamoured you were with it when Lucas had first showed it to you.

“Lucas’ been asking me to get a tattoo with him once the break starts,” you mentioned casually, earning a surprised hum from Jisung.

“Oh,” his eyes widened, as if he was still trying to process what you said, “really?”

You nodded, “still thinking about it, though. Haven’t really decided on what I wanted.”

Jisung scooped the last of his food into his mouth, giving you as nonchalant a shrug as he could muster.

“Well, uh, you know, if you want or something you could come one of the days during the break, I could show you some stuff I think you’d like.”

You nodded, the simple suggestion somehow exciting you.

That night, you’d gotten ready for bed, having made sure Jisung ate his medicine before he went to sleep.

Before you could move to switch the lights off, he’d stopped you/

“Wait, like…can you um… leave the lamp on?” You raised an eyebrow at him, but complied nonetheless, figuring this was your chance to repent while he was sick.

“Goodnight,” you murmured, stretching your arms above your head with a yawn.

“Yeah, night…” he murmured, inhaling deeply, “oh, and Y/N?”

You frowned, “uh-huh?” Looking at him expectantly, your breath hitched at the sight of the small smile that made its way on his face, the moonlight casting a calm glow in the room that mirrored his expression.

“Apology accepted.”

You smiled, nodding before you left. Hopefully this meant things were looking up for your relationship.

===

After that day, it was as if something in your dynamic had shifted, you found that Jisung was giving you lesser and lesser reasons to be annoyed at him.

Lucas had gotten a kick out of it when you’d told him about it.

“You guys finally realised it wouldn’t kill you to be nice to each other?” You remembered him telling you.

You would beg to differ, though, because with this shift in dynamic came a whole lot of awkwardness, especially when one of you had done something mildly nice for the other person.

Take this instance, for example.

You’d been sitting at your desk, trying to finish up on your essay that was due that week, not wanting to let your motivation subside without making full use of it (also because you knew if you didn’t do it now, you’d procrastinate and stress out when you realised you were behind time).

You’d been able to faintly smell Jisung’s noodles that he was cooking in the kitchen, making you sigh. You didn’t like eating things after you had your dinner, but you couldn’t lie and say that they didn’t smell great.

Expecting to hear his bedroom door shut and feel the smell of the noodles get fainter, he’d surprised you when he made his way over to you, setting a mug containing a hot drink on your desk.

Turning to him abruptly, he’d flinched back, looking at you with wide eyes as his hands flew up over his chest, making you laugh.

“I’m not gonna hit you, calm down.”

Jisung relaxed (albeit hesitantly), one of his hands coming up to grip the back of his neck, gesturing towards the mug with his other hand.

“Go ahead, I uh…didn’t poison it or anything,” a huff of awkward laughter left him.

You glanced from the mug to him, nodding slowly, “thanks.”

“Don’t, you know…sleep too late, and stuff,” he told you, earning a nod from you.

He nodded back at you, giving you a close-lipped smile before practically jogging back to his room, the door shutting a little louder than usual, a yelp of apology echoing after.

It wasn’t as if you didn’t try to to be nice to him either, but frankly, he wasn’t giving you many opportunities to do so.


Jisung was still keeping his worries to himself, with his creative block seeming to have spiralled him into heavy feelings of anxiousness and a lack of confidence in his abilities.

You figured that things had been weighing heavy on his mind when you realised he’d been intentionally keeping the light on more often when he slept, or how the typing sounds of his keyboard would get more frequent as it got later into the night.

You’d even had Chan pleading for you to check up on Jisung every now and then once you noticed that he’d been sleeping a lot more and eating at irregular intervals. Listening out for his humming every now and then, you noticed the melodies seemed to have taken a more slow-paced, almost melancholic turn.

One night, you’d decided that if Jisung wasn’t going to give you opportunities to be nice to him, you would just create them for yourself. Making a determined trip to the kitchen, you’d boiled his favourite type of instant ramen, having seen how he made it so many times you knew just what to add in.

Padding over to his room, you’d knocked on the door before pushing it open slightly, watching him straighten up where he sat on his bed, setting his iPad down beside him, his thigh blocking it from your view.

“Hey, I uh…here,” you cut to the chase, Jisung was quick to find something to put under the pot on his bed, opening it and looking at you wordlessly.

“Figured the both of us could use a break,” you shrugged, oblivious to the way your words had stirred something within Jisung.

“What were you working on?” You asked, scooping some noodles into a bowl for Jisung and handing it to him.

He’d taken the bowl from you absently, his eyes widening at the mention of the sketch, unconsciously pushing it further behind him.

“Nothing, I was just doodling.”

Jisung had no idea how to explain that he had been trying to design something for you, something that reminded him of you. Because frankly, that was the only thing that seemed to be pushing his creative block aside at the moment.

“Can I see?”

Usually, Jisung would’ve fought you ( to the death ) before he’d let you see his unfinished designs, but there was something about your demeanour that made him feel like it was okay to show you. That it was okay to tell you that it wasn’t perfect because something inside of him just told him that you would understand.

In spite of any rational fibre in his being, he’d picked up the tablet, giving it to you as he continued to eat the ramen, his gaze never leaving your expression, oblivious to your scrolling as he was too busy gauging your reaction.

“These are all really pretty,” you told him, scrolling until you’d reached the bottom, clicking on one of the drawings and flipping the screen around to show Jisung.

“I love this,” you told him, earning a surprised hum from him.

He saw that you’d clicked on the sketch of the peony that he’d tried to refine that day he got rained on, wondering what made you choose that out of all his designs, since he was probably the least satisfied with that one.

“Are you sure? What about this one?” He took the tablet from you, scrolling back to the design he was working on, making you hum thoughtfully, eventually shaking your head no.

“I like the other one better,” you told him, earning a confused hum from him.

“Why?”

You scoffed, frowning at him, “why are you so against it? You’re the one that drew it,” you took the tablet back from him, holding it against your shoulder before shaking your head, setting it back down onto your lap.

“Besides,” you murmured, zooming in to admire the shading on the flower, “I think it’s beautiful.”

Jisung’s expression was unreadable, unsure how you had such strong appreciation for something he thought was his worst work, something about the way you praised it making a strange feeling that he couldn’t place build within his chest.

It was like before, the feeling of comfort, that he didn’t have to worry about any kind of creative block that could be thrown his way because you gave him a different perspective on his abilities.

You know, the cliché, hard-hitting feeling that ‘everything is gonna be okay’.

“Do you have anything happening during the break?” You asked, earning a shrug from him.

“I’ve gotta submit my song to Chan’s music producer friend.”

You perked up at the mention of Jisung’s song, “have you thought of what you wanted to do for it yet?”

Jisung shook his head, letting out a deep sigh, “it’s been kind of stressing me out, to be honest,” he admitted.

“I like…I don’t wanna give him something that doesn’t show what I’m capable of, you know?”

You nodded, “I understand…I wish I could help you but I don’t really, you know, know how,” you fidgeted with your fingers, hearing him grunt in dismissal.

“It’s fine,” he mustered a confident smile, “nothing I can’t handle.”

And for a moment, you really would’ve believed that he’d gotten it handled. Leaving him to continue with his work as you got ready for bed.

You had almost anticipated to hear typing sounds as you did every night these days. But unlike the other nights, Jisung didn’t very well feel like being alone with his thoughts that night, not even wanting to type them down. He craved the feeling of being okay, of feeling like he still had time and didn’t have to be anxious or feel shitty about his mediocre work.

So it had come as a surprise to you when you’d heard the gentle knock at your door that night just as you were about to drift into a half-asleep state, hearing the door open and watching as Jisung made his way hesitantly over to where you were.

“Can I sleep here tonight?” You heard him let out a shaky breath, and you didn’t need to ask him further, giving him a small hum of approval as he’d pulled the small heated mat from under your bed and made himself comfortable next to your bed.

Jisung let his head hit the ground gently, a deep sigh leaving him as he closed his eyes.

“Do you want me to leave the lamp on?” You mumbled, hearing him hum.

“No, it’s fine,” he told you, strangely not feeling much of a need for it now that he had you near him.

The both of you knew better than to speak more, the silence seeming to have made you understand how he was feeling. And as he lay there, with your presence in the room, Jisung felt alright, and so did you.

That night, there were no typing sounds.  

===

Contrary to yesterday, you'd started today on a good note. Having bumped into Jisung the next morning after he'd gotten ready, meeting in the hallway when you were still dressed in your sleepwear, you couldn't help but smile.

"Morning," he murmured, a small smile on his face as he gave you a little wave, leaving promptly to meet Chan at the tattoo studio.

You didn't have work today, and you'd arranged a meeting with Lucas to hang out, the boy not seeming to want to waste anymore time when he'd finally arrived at the mall, practically bounding over to where you were waiting at the fountain in the atrium.

"So, have you thought about it yet?" he asked you, extending a hand to help you up.

Frowning, your lips parted in confusion, "thought about what?"

Lucas gave you an unamused look, as if you should've known what he was talking about. Pushing his sleeves up to his elbows, he'd raised his hands as he gestured, "you know, about what tattoo you wanted to get."

You made your way to a bubble tea outlet that Lucas wanted to check out, pestering you to go with him as part of the things he’d wanted to do during the semester break.

You couldn't help but laugh at the realisation, feeling awfully giddy at the thought of yesterday.

It was just a simple interaction, yeah, whatever, but no one said there were rules on what could make your heart flutter and what couldn't. All you knew was that whatever happened yesterday, did.

"Yeah, I did," you confessed, huffing with a smile on your face.

Lucas didn't know whether to feel afraid or happy that you were so quick to decide this time, looking at you in concern, "okay...so, what did you decide on?"

You pursed your lips, your smile disappearing, "I don't have a picture with me, it's on Jisung's ipad. But it's really pretty, it's like this drawing of a flower," you explained.

Lucas' eyes widened, his hand coming up to cover his mouth in a poor attempt to conceal his growing excitement.

"Oh, it's one of Jisung's stuff?"

You nodded, not seeming to understand why he was so happy about that, "what?"

"Nothing," he shrugged, "you and Jisung seem to be on pretty good terms recently, huh.”

You scoffed, shrugging because it wasn't as if what he said was a lie.

Lucas leaned closer to you, "have you been smiling at him more these days?"

You frowned at his question, shrugging at him nonetheless, turning your attention back to the menu board, "yeah, I guess."

Lucas' giggles escaped him like bubbles, nodding at you knowingly, “perfect. You should definitely keep doing that.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “questionable advice, but I’ll take it. Anyway, when are you planning on getting it done?"

Lucas straightened up, lifting his phone slightly to check the date.

"I made an appointment for Chan to do mine next Tuesday," he told you, “have you asked your parents yet?”

You nodded, “they weren’t as supportive until they found out Jisung designed it, they just told me not to get anything I’ll regret.”

Lucas couldn’t miss his opportunity to tease you, “well, I’m sure if Jisung’s doing it, the last thing you’d do is regret it.”

Shoving him aside and ignoring the way he’d burst into a fit of giggles, you ordered your drink, and Lucas’ as well once he calmed down enough to point at what he wanted on the menu.

“Maybe you should text him and ask about when you can book him?” Lucas gestured to you with his drink, his leg bouncing absently as he looked around the small outlet, the group of high-school girls in their uniforms sitting next to your table giggling as he’d skimmed over their table.

“Do you think that’d be too much? Should I just ask Chan instead?” You glanced at him for a sign of approval, “but then if I ask Chan would it make Jisung think I don’t want him to do my tattoo?” You wondered out loud, your stream of thought proving to be fairly amusing to Lucas.

“Just text him, it’s not that deep,” Lucas sipped on his drink.

“Nah, you know what? I should just ask him later at home, I shouldn’t bother him when he’s at work,” you shrugged, earning a sound of dismissal from him.

“Texting him would be a lot faster, you know.”

You shot him a look, “why are you so insistent on me texting him?”

Lucas scoffed, “why are you so against it?” He shot back.

Giving him a look of feigned annoyance, you’d set your phone down onto the table, staring blankly as Lucas had turned it to face him, unlocking your phone and going to Jisung’s chat.

“How should I start? ‘hey baby’—”

Your eyes widened, about to snatch the phone back from him when he’d pulled it towards himself in time, shooting you a look of feigned confusion.

“What? Too mild?” He laughed.

Sighing as he calmed down from his laughter, he shook his head slowly as he typed out a message, “man, you’re so bad at this,” he murmured.

“What makes you say that?”

Lucas pressed something on your phone with finality, scrolling up as he showed you your previous texts with Jisung. Texts like:

1:09pm - dont eat my chips get ur own - or texts like


10:11pm - keep it down! Im trying to study -

Jisung 10:11pm -well so am I!-

“All you guys ever text each other for is to ask each other to do things, how can you expect him to like you if you’re always telling him to separate his lights and darks?”

You took the phone back from Lucas with a huff, “leave me alone. And who said anything about wanting him to like me?”

Lucas looked as though you’d just asked him an obvious question, looking almost scandalised at your denial, “really? You went from ‘oh, I don’t wanna bother Jisung at work’ and ‘oh, heehee me and Jisung ate ramen together yesterday night’ to ‘who said anything about my big fat crush on Jisung’?”

You huffed, “that’s inaccurate.”

Lucas chewed on his tapioca pearls harshly, making sure you heard the smacking sounds of his chewing to unnerve you, shaking his head at you matter-of-factly, “it’s pretty much-what’s the word, ah! Verbatim. That.”


You rolled your eyes at him, wondering how the high-school girls sitting next to you still managed to find Lucas an absolute dreamboat despite how intentionally ridiculously he was behaving.

The truth is, Jisung wouldn’t have cared if you’d ‘bothered him during work or not’. He probably would’ve jumped at the notification of your text.

After the night before, Jisung couldn’t stop thinking about the feeling of comfort that flooded him at the thought of you. Finally getting enough inspiration to work on his song when he’d gotten home, even despite the pounding in his head and the sheer fatigue from the day that had passed.

Call him whatever you wanted, but Jisung couldn’t shake the feeling of reassurance he got with you, and it was a feeling he never thought he’d be experiencing as deeply as he did now.

From how familiar it was to hear your voice (even if it was asking him to fold the laundry), to how the smell of your perfume would awaken him on certain days, just in time for him to start his routine for the day. In small things, like how whenever he was looking for a break from work, somehow he’d find it with you.

He’d been working on his song for hours now, though he’d kept letting his gaze wander to the door in anticipation, wondering what was taking you so long to get home. He couldn’t help but wonder if you were still with Lucas, his imagination running wild with all sorts of scenarios that could have taken place to warrant you coming home so late.

Jisung brushed the thought away quickly after he found himself going to your contact on his phone, setting it down quickly as if it burned him. It was fine, you were an adult (he figured), you didn’t need him to hound you about a curfew.

Deciding to work on his lyrics for the song, he’d typed away on his laptop his ideas, his mind seeming to always gravitate to thinking of you as he read what he’d typed down.

Satisfied with the amount of work he’d gotten done for that day, Jisung had let his head lean back against the armrest of the sofa, his legs bent as he lay on his side, letting his eyes rest from all that staring at his glaringly bright computer screen.

You’d gone for a late-night movie with Lucas to end off your day, having gone home later than usual, though you didn’t mind. It wasn’t as if you had a curfew anymore.

You managed to reach your apartment as stealthily as you could, since the walls were really that thin and you didn’t want the old lady from next door to get on your back for being noisy when she was trying to sleep or whatever again.

Shoving your keys into the keyhole, you frowned when you saw that the lights in the living room were still switched on, spotting Jisung lying on the sofa with his eyes closed, his head lolling to the side as he dozed off.

Going into your room (in stealth mode, again), you’d set your things down quietly, deciding to take a shower and get ready for bed before anything else. Suddenly everything seemed to be a thousand times louder than you were used to. You were sure Jisung hadn’t been getting much quality sleep recently, so seeing him dozing off on the sofa had only made you want to ensure that his sleep continued uninterrupted.

Once you were changed into your sleepwear, you’d gone into Jisung’s room, taking a soft blanket from his cupboard and bringing it over to where he was, draping it over him till it reached his shoulders. You couldn’t help but find how peaceful he looked to be rather endearing, wishing you could do more but knowing there wasn’t much else you could do.

Jisung considered himself a good actor, because on the inside he was far from peaceful. He’d awoken at the feeling of being covered by the blanket, the back of your fingers grazing against his arm slightly.

His heart had fluttered, extremely, at the gesture, though something in him was yelling at him not to open his eyes, wanting to savour the moment for himself. It felt warm, a comfortable kind of warmth, the kind you would want to bask in for hours after being in the cold for so long. Something like a ray of sunshine.

Jisung was convinced he was going mad.

Switching on the lamp at your desk so that the living room wouldn’t be in complete darkness, you’d switched off the lights in the living room, bidding a silent goodnight to Jisung in your head before you’d gone back to your room, leaving Jisung dumbfounded.

===

“What did you say the song was called, again?” Chan had asked Jisung on Tuesday morning, looking at him with an endeared smile.

Jisung felt shy for some reason, pressing his lips together firmly as he averted his gaze from Chan, preparing his equipment as he waited for you and Lucas to arrive.

“Sunshine,” Jisung told him.

Chan huffed, his smile growing bigger, “I like that,” he hummed.

“What’s it about?” Chan asked, pulling his phone out to check for a text, “also, Lucas says they’re nearby.”

Jisung shrugged, “what’s it about?” He echoed Chan’s question, as if not knowing for himself either, something about him seeming fairly preoccupied, “it’s kind of hard to explain.”

Chan nodded in understanding, glancing at the way Jisung fiddled with the practice sketch he’d done of Y/N’s tattoo, twirling it around in his hands and anxiously glancing towards the door.

“Nervous?”

Jisung’s head shot up to look at Chan with wide eyes, “huh?…” he nodded slowly, “yeah, kind of.”

A small smile played at Chan’s lips as the boy had finished up the stencil for Lucas’ tattoo. “Is it because it’s Y/N?”

Jisung let out a nervous laugh, “yeah, duh,” he mumbled, “I mean, yeah, I’m nervous because she’s the one getting the tattoo but more like…”

Jisung shrugged, “I still don’t understand why she chose this out of all the designs I had.”

Chan raised an eyebrow, the jingling of the bells at the door followed by a loud guffaw of laughter signalling to him that the both of you had arrived.

“You should take more pride in your work,” Chan pat Jisung on the back, almost sending the boy stumbling with the sheer force behind the hit. Though Jisung couldn’t very well pay attention to the pain in his shoulder once he saw you with Lucas.

Lucas was quick to shove you towards Jisung, going over to one of the beds with Chan as they discussed the placement of the tattoo.

Jisung was almost uncharacteristically tense, leading you over to the station across from Lucas and Chan, holding the stencil up for you to see, “you’re absolutely sure you want this?”

You rolled your eyes, nodding, “yes, I’m sure.”

Jisung nodded slowly, albeit hesitantly, at you, “have you figured out where you want it?”

Lucas had perked up at that, butting into the conversation despite being across the room, “we were thinking between two places.”

Jisung hummed as he’d gone over to take the tablet containing a form for you to fill out before he got started.

You shushed Lucas quickly, accepting the tablet from Jisung with a nod of thanks, “yeah, I was thinking between here,” you gestured under your collarbone, “or here,” you gestured to your shoulder, just above your shoulder-blade.

Jisung nodded, “which do you feel more comfortable with? I think both are alright.”

“I was thinking maybe here?” You held a hand over the space under your collarbone, earning a nod from him.

“Alright,” he murmured, taking the tablet from you once you were done and quietly gesturing for you to lie down.

In your haste to get it over with, you’d almost completely forgotten about the placement of your tattoo, Jisung quirking an eyebrow at you and letting a huff of nervousness escape him.

“Sorry uh, I hope you don’t mind,” he murmured, pulling the collar of your shirt down to expose the area you’d wanted tattooed, making Lucas (who was watching intently) snicker from where he sat.

You’d felt heat creeping up to your neck, making you stretch your neck to look elsewhere, deciding to focus on the black pipes lining the ceiling, your shyness reducing your voice to a mere mumble, “yeah, sorry.”

Your nerves had built up even more with how tense Jisung was, even as he had disinfected the area and transferred what looked like a blue-ish outline of his sketch to your skin, making you almost want to writhe in your place with how nervous you were growing.

However, once you’d heard the buzzing of the tattoo gun, it was as if you were transported into your room, the familiarity of the sound making you less nervous, simply anticipating the pain that you’d associated with the tattoo to occur.

It was a wonder you hadn’t even been able to think much about the pain of the tattoo, though, because you were too busy trying to ignore Jisung’s proximity to you.

He was a stark contrast from Chan, who was making conversation with Lucas throughout the process, whereas Jisung had simply loomed over you, a tense knit to his brow and his lips pressed tightly together. Just by your expressions alone, people would have thought he was the one getting the tattoo.

This was only so because Jisung was struggling, with the smell of your perfume making him feel more awake than ever, and not to mention the pressure to make sure the tattoo turned out well that weighed heavy on him. Everything about you was so familiar, yet everything about the experience was not, and it was driving Jisung crazy with the amount of tension it was making him feel.

“Are you okay?” He asked, gauging your face for any sign that you were in too much pain.

You wanted to laugh, “This is like the fifth time you’re asking me that,” you told him.

“Can’t help it,” he told you, and you swore you saw his cheeks start to tint pink, “just wanted to make sure you were okay, you know…since it’s your first tattoo, and all.”

You nodded reassuringly, “it’s fine, just keep going.”

Jisung nodded, “I’ll be done quicker than you know it, I swear.”

You continued to distract yourself with the sight of Lucas across the room, Chan having to bring the needle back whenever Lucas couldn’t hold back his laughter.

“I’m sorry, It tickles,” you heard him tell Chan, making you have to stifle your laughter.

“Can I ask you something?” You decided that maybe talking to Jisung would help time pass faster (and less awkwardly).

“Uh-huh,” he hummed, shifting his chair slightly to get into a more comfortable position.

“How many tattoos do you have?” You asked, earning a long, reflective hum from him.

“I got a few in the time after college started, I would say about 5 or 6 now?” He shrugged, “and if you’re gonna ask me what’s their meanings…I don’t really know how to explain it, I just like the feeling they give me when I look at them.”

“I get it, it’s expression after all.”

Jisung nodded, his focus returning and making him let the conversation still. You didn’t like that, the feeling of awkwardness that returned with his silence, making you wrack your brains to find any sort of other conversation topic you could think of.

“Are you seeing anyone?” You wanted to instantly hide your face once you heard the words leave your mouth, Lucas turning to you with a wide-eyed expression.

Jisung sputtered, pulling the tattoo gun away from your skin, shaking his head at you.

“Uh, no, I’m not.” He narrowed his eyes at you, trying to regain his confidence in the situation, “why’d you wanna know?”

Now it was your turn to flush, averting your gaze, “oh, you know, just…curious, is all.”

Jisung smirked, “well, don’t go getting any ideas. I already like someone,” he told you, feeling as though he was dangling a carrot right in front of you.

Your eyebrows lifted in surprise, “really? Who?”

Jisung shrugged, “it’s a secret.”

You frowned, wanting to get back at him but not quite knowing how, deciding to go with the first thing you could think of, “well, I like someone too, you’re not special.”

Jisung hadn’t expected you to retort with that, narrowing his eyes at you, “wait, really? Is it Lucas?”

“Oh my god, no way, never.”

“Then who is it?” He met your gaze, making you stick your tongue out at him, mustering your best impersonation of him.

“It’s a secret.”

You had almost thought you were imagining things, but you noticed Jisung’s mood take a turn from there, seeming awfully pensive as he did the rest of your tattoo, the both of you having maintained a silence after your failed attempt at a proper conversation with him. He’d already begun to do the shading for your tattoo, so you figured he was really going to be done quicker than you thought.

You tried to distract yourself by glancing towards Lucas and Chan’s direction. Jisung could see you staring in their direction from the corner of his eye, wondering why your gaze kept travelling there when he was right in front of you.

“Is it Chan?” He blurted out, making your eyes go wide in shock.

Your smile grew, shaking your head, “no, definitely not.”

Jisung frowned, “who could it even be, you don’t even know that many people,” he huffed.

You sighed, trust you to fall for someone as oblivious as him.

“Do you want a clue?” You asked, earning a grunt from him.

“They’re very oblivious.”

Jisung frowned, looking as though he were contemplating, his tissue going over your tattoo slower as he thought. His mouth formed an ‘o’ shape in realisation, a gasp leaving him.

“No way, it’s not that Felix kid from your department, is it?” He looked as though he was hoping you would say no.

You fought to suppress the urge to roll your eyes, yet not realising you were smiling at him, “no, it’s not him.”

Jisung sighed, “oh, good. I know I always say I’m the best looking but he’s a lot better looking than I am, don’t tell him I said that.”

“Good?” You questioned, wondering why he seemed so relieved that all his options had turned out to be false. Jisung had realised he may have made things a little too obvious, shaking his head vigorously.

“Nothing, you’re all done, forget I said anything.”

He pushed himself away from you, his chair swivelling far back as he tried to calm the racing of his heart as you sat up and stretched, your body tired from being in the same position for so long.

“What time is it?” You asked, earning a grunt from Jisung, not knowing either.

Chan had chimed in from the other side, having been done with Lucas’ tattoo way before yours.

“It’s 4:24,” he told you. Jisung had been busy putting an adhesive bandage over your tattoo to pay attention to your reaction.

You spent 4 hours lying there and you only got like what, two conversations with Jisung? This was a new low, even for you.


You were snapped out of your disappointment when Jisung had spoken.

“Uh… yeah keep this on for like three to four days?” He gestured to the bandage, your breath hitching as he hiked the collar of your shirt up so it wasn’t still dropping off your shoulder.

“You can still shower and everything so yeah…” he told you, reciting from memory after having been told this a thousand times by Chan.

You tried your best to pay attention, though you knew you’d probably forget by the time you were home, making him stand up mid-speech and walk over to the counter, pulling out a little brochure to hand you.

“Honestly, just read this, it has everything you need to know inside,” he told you, walking away briskly to compose himself at his station.

You’d made your payment to Chan at the counter, Jisung having pretended to be busy with cleaning up, making Chan flash you an amused smile.

“What?”

He shook his head, dimples appearing as he gave you your receipt, “You two are just too cute,” he huffed, earning a loud hum of approval from Lucas.

“Aren’t they?” The tall boy chimed in, making you scoff.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, bye,” you waved, seeing Jisung turn around to give you a wide smile before turning back around, practically collapsing onto the bed once you and Lucas were gone.

“Those were the most excruciating 4 hours of my life.”

Chan’s laughter could be heard as he made his way over to Jisung, giving him a pat on the back, “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad, was it?”

Jisung let out a loud groan, “we were like this close!” Jisung brought his hand in front of his face for emphasis as he whined to Chan, “and I couldn’t focus at all I was so scared I was gonna screw up her tattoo because I kept zoning out,” he rambled, feeling as though his knees were about to buckle.

Chan shook his head with a feigned look of sympathy, looking at Jisung as though Jisung were his son, “I’m glad you’re feeling stressed.”

Jisung scoffed, shrugging Chan’s hand off of his shoulder and  glaring at his mentor with a look of disbelief, “you’re glad? Aren’t you supposed to be feeling some sympathy for me? That’s sick, I can’t believe you.”

Chan wasn’t surprised at Jisung’s dramatic reaction, simply laughing as he shrugged.

“I’m glad because if you’re stressed, you’re gonna be pushed to do something about it soon. And then I can stop hearing you stress about it and just see the both of you together, instead.”

Jisung shot Chan a dirty look, “you’re mean, old man.”

Chan scoffed, “at least I’m not stupid in love.”

===

Jisung had been keeping himself fairly busy since then, the both of you having been busy with your own plans since the semester break had started. However, the both of you had somehow managed to enjoy suppers together, bonding over a (rather unhealthy) meal of snacks or instant food whenever it was late in the night and the both of you didn’t want to go to sleep just yet.

And speaking of sleep, you’d also noticed how Jisung had started to look brighter these days, seeming to have been overcoming that period of lethargy he was previously in.

Now, the brightness was heard in the songs he hummed, in how he smiled and laughed more whenever you were together. Even in how he'd started growing more comfortable with sleeping in the dark. You weren’t sure what exactly sparked this change in him, but whatever it was, you were glad it happened, yourself seeming to be all the more enamoured with this version of Jisung that had grown on you.

You’d planned with Jisung to have a day of celebration (or a pity party) once he’d submitted his song to Chan’s music producer friend.

Since you had work that day, you’d wanted to get up early to prepare breakfast for him, but you didn’t realise how late you were until you woke up and found that he had already left.

Making your way over to the kitchen to find some food for yourself after you’d gotten ready for work, you yanked open the door for the fridge, expecting to be met with all of Jisung’s snacks and cans of drinks that still had their post-its on them.

However, as you were scanning the fridge to see if you had anything you could eat, you spotted a different coloured post-it on a bundle of juice packets, peeling the post-it off of the packaging to inspect it.

‘y/n, I heard these are great to start the morning with, try them for me?’

You couldn’t help but smile, a hand coming up to your face to attempt to slap away the heat you felt in your cheeks, pulling out a packet of juice anyway.

You were starting to think the juice did have some sort of magical properties in them, because when you got to work, you’d been on drink duty, which was your favourite to do. Well, technically, anything other than cashier duty was your favourite but who’s keeping track here?

You knew Jisung's meeting with the producer was around the afternoon, so when Chan had shown up at the café alone, you didn't question it.

Now you were really glad you weren't on cashier duty today, giving your colleague more time to talk to Chan while he ordered.

"One strawberry smoothie for Chan?" you called to get his attention, seeing him stroll over to the pick-up point with a smile on his face.

"Sorry, Jisung's not here," he teased, sighing wistfully.

You scoffed, "yeah, yeah. I know where he is.”

“How’s the tattoo healing?” He asked, making your hand go up to your shoulder unconsciously, “It’s alright, looks really pretty now that it’s all healed.”

Chan gave you a thumbs up, opening the lid of his drink as he took a sip, your curiosity getting the better of you.

“Is he meeting your friend now?"

Chan’s eyebrows raised in confusion, “who?..oh,” he nodded in realisation, “yeah, just went to meet him. Honestly, if you asked me, he didn’t seem as excited about the meeting as he was to meet you for dinner.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “don’t put ideas into my head, old man.”

Chan simply gave you a shrug, “I’m not that old, you know,” he brought his drink up to his lips to take a sip, “and they’re only ideas if you’re in denial.”

You groaned, “go, begone, leave me alone.”

Chan giggled, nodding as his hand went up in surrender, “fine, I’m going. Have a good dinner later, Y/N,” he sing-songed.

Curse Chan for putting the thought into your head, now you couldn’t stop thinking about dinner.

Your shift only ended at 5:30, so that gave you just about enough time to go get groceries while Jisung prepared the things for your hotpot at home.

Deciding you would do what you were called to do, which in this case, meant to send Jisung a text wishing him the best of luck, you did as such.

2:31pm - hey, all the best for your meeting with the producer man!!-

Jisung’s reply had come quickly,

han jisung 2:32pm - thanks :( im waiting to see him now, I didn’t know there was gonna be a whole queue -

Setting your phone aside, you’d tried not to let yourself get too anxious while you waited for him to update you, busying yourself with washing dishes and even serving tables out of your sheer boredom due to the crowd starting to disperse at this time.

You waited, and you waited, you waited until the word ‘waiting’ itself felt weird to say in your head. You should’ve known better to have expected Jisung to update you over text, only receiving a text in the evening that read

han jisung 5:23pm - hey…i just finished meeting him…see u at the apartment?-

You’d texted him back, not knowing what to make of his text.

5:23pm - is that a good hey or a bad hey? -

Jisung hadn’t answered your question, his next text coming as more of a source of confusion for you.

han jisung 5:24pm - ill tell u in person -

“What happened? Is it Jisung?” Your colleague seemed to have sensed your inner turmoil, looking at you with concern etched in her features.

“Yeah, he told me he was done meeting the producer person…but he didn’t wanna tell me how it went,” you frowned, seeing your colleague hum in confusion.

“D’you think it didn’t go well?” She asked, mirroring your expression of uncertainty.

You typed out your reply to Jisung as you shrugged, “I don’t know, I’m hoping he’s just messing with me.”

5:26pm - my shift ends in like 4 minutes… I’ll go and get the groceries before I get back -

han jisung 5:26pm - okay, ill be waiting -

“All the best, then?” Your co-worker offered, giving you a look of sympathy.

“You too, enjoy the rest of your shift,” you returned her expression, sighing as you removed your apron, grabbing your bag from the back room before you left.

You’d tried your best to be quick in getting your groceries, making sure you’d gotten everything Jisung had told you to, your footsteps quick as you briskly walked to your apartment building.

Not knowing if it was because you hadn’t eaten in hours or if it was because you were just excited, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of excitement in you, not so much because you were excited to hear how Jisung’s meeting went but more of because you were excited that you were going to see Jisung soon.

Finally reaching your apartment, you’d pushed the door open to spot Jisung coming out from his room, a towel on his head as he rubbed at his freshly-washed hair.

“Hey,” you breathed, a hint of a smile on your face, scanning his face for an expression as he glanced at you, his glasses resting on the bridge of his nose cutely.

Jisung had a whole plan for how he was going to surprise you with the news, he wanted to wait until the food was ready and when the both of you were seated across each other in the living room, wait for you to ask him about how the meeting went so that he could pretend to be upset about it.

And just like he’d seen in the romantic movie Chan was playing in the studio the other day, he would wait till you showed concern to give you a smile and tell you the good news, already being able to imagine the smile you would give him in celebration.

But seeing how you looked, a little bit breathless from rushing, carrying groceries in your hands as you looked at him with a smile that spelled nothing but relief, Jisung couldn’t help himself.

“He offered me a job,” Jisung confessed, his grip tight on his towel as he let his hand fall limp to his side, any perfect, fool-proof plan of copying the romance movie now long gone.

Your eyes widened, setting the groceries on the counter as you cheered, “oh my god, that’s great! I’m really happy for you!” You cheered, practically running towards him before stopping yourself halfway, realising you were almost about to hug him.

Jisung noticed you stop too, tilting his head at you as his hands had already begun to raise to welcome you into a hug, hesitating once he’d seen you stop.

“Sorry,” you huffed, shoving your hands into your pockets, taking a step back to create some distance between the both of you.

Jisung smiled, shaking his head, “don’t be.” Shocking you with his confidence, he’d taken a step closer to you, his arms going around your shoulders as he pulled you towards him, his head leaning against yours gently as one of his hands went up to pet your head gently.

“You really helped me through it, believe it or not.”

Your eyes widened, trying not to get too carried away with the way his hold felt too comforting for you to pull away, thankful that he’d let go first, his hands coming up to grasp your shoulders.

“You hungry? The soup’s almost done.”

You nodded, “can I uh…take a shower first? I’ll be quick I promise.”

You didn’t wait for him to reply before you’d escaped to the bathroom, too focused on showering quickly that you’d almost forgotten about the hug. Keyword, almost.

Once you’d changed into a comfortable shirt and shorts, you’d practically jogged over to the kitchen, seeing that Jisung had already taken out the ingredients to thaw the meat and prepare the veggies.

“Wow, who are you and what have you done with Jisung?”

Jisung turned around at your voice, rolling his eyes at your statement, flicking the water from the veggies at you as you dodged, “figured I’d do something while waiting, you know, make myself useful.”

You huffed, a smile on your face as you gestured for him to continue, “well, don’t let me stop you.”

“So how did the interview go?” You asked, watching intently as he brought the platefuls of ingredients to the coffee table, stopping you when you’d moved to help him get the pot of soup.

“It’s okay, you go sit down, I’ll do it.”

You couldn’t help the impressed pout from your lips, not wanting to let on that the gesture had made your heart flutter.

Once all the food was on the table, Jisung had taken a seat next to you, the both of you starting to throw your ingredients into the soup, Jisung turning to you looking as though he’d wanted to say something.

“What was I saying before? Oh, right,” he nodded, “I didn’t expect him to be so intimidating, I nearly pissed myself when I walked into the room.”

You’d burst into laughter, Jisung laughing along with you, “I’m not even joking. Chan gave me a completely different description of what he would be like.”

You’d tried your best to calm down from your laughter quickly, seeing him take a piece of food from the pot and place it into your bowl wordlessly, choosing to ignore the gesture for the sake of your heart.

“But I’m assuming he’s not that bad? Since he offered you the job?”

Jisung let out a sigh, “yeah, thank god he did, I was a stuttering mess. Even Iwouldn’t have hired myself.”

You let out a chuckle, “you’re lucky he judged you based on the song, then,” you teased, earning a harmless glare from him.

You’d scooped some food into your mouth, looking up at him to see that he’d already had his cheeks full of food, nodding at you expectantly.

“So does this mean you’re gonna work on that producer guy’s team?” You asked, earning a nod from him as he swallowed his mouthful of food with a wince.

“Yeah, he said I could intern at his company in the holidays and if everything goes well he’ll give me a contract once I graduate.”

You let out a low whistle, “wow, imagine all the exposure you’d get there…all the different types of genres and artists you’d be exposed to,” you marvelled, Jisung finding it amusing how you seemed more excited about it than he was.

You perked up in realisation, “speaking of which…I realised you’d never let me listen to the song yet.”

Jisung flushed, shaking his head, “did I? I swear I did,” he lied, making you shove him, a smile showing on his face as you did, nodding in surrender as he grabbed his phone from the coffee table.

“What’s it called?” You asked, seeing him nudge his glasses up with his knuckle, shaking his head to flick his hair from his eyes.

“Sunshine,” he told you quickly, not wasting anymore time and playing the song.

As he started to play the song, you were surprised at the light sounding melody the song had started with, the sounds of the city that he’d put inside, the feeling that you were…at home?

“Don’t look at me when you’re listening to it, I’m shy,” he brought a hand up to cover your face, making you yelp, your hands coming up to grab his wrist, pulling it away slowly as you grew more focused on the song, recognising his voice as he sang.

It wasn’t a love song, thankfully, you realised. You realised that the song revolved around a certain feeling of calm, with themes of getting away from the busy nature of your life and taking time for yourself, something you realised you and him both kind of needed.

You listened until the song had ended, looking at him with a big smile on your face, a smile that made Jisung want to cover your face in fear that it would make his heart burst with how giddy he felt.

“I love this,” you told him, “can you send it to me?”

Jisung scoffed, “no way, how do I know you’re not gonna sell it before I can get it copyrighted?” he huffed, leaning forward and resting his elbow on the table to support his head on his palm.

“I’m really impressed, how’d you get the inspiration to do this?”

Jisung shrugged, “my own life I guess, and the people that helped me get through that weird period of creative block that I was in,” he murmured.

You nodded, “well, whoever they are, you should thank them for me.”

Jisung nodded, facing the television as he contemplated in his heart whether to do what he wanted to do, turning to you with a small smile on his face, he nodded slowly.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

Your eyes widened, not knowing what to make of his words. The song had started to repeat.

Jisung had shook his head, “I’m not just saying this because I like you or whatever—” he stopped himself with a small curse, “shit, that was not how I planned on telling you. Whatever, as I was saying…” he trailed off, his gaze landing on your tattoo, the neck of your shirt having started to slip off your shoulder slightly.

“Honestly, I really hated that drawing,” he told you, your gaze following his to look at your tattoo, looking back at him with raised eyebrows.

“This? Why? But it’s so pretty,” you insisted.

Jisung shook his head.

“It was my first design, and I wasn’t…you know, I just didn’t think it was that impressive, and all. Chan had told me to keep it in my portfolio but I was really close to just removing it.”

His gaze shifted to anywhere except your face, distracting himself by looking at the various things in the house, his gaze landing on the rainbow-coloured umbrella at the door.

Jisung sighed, shifting in his seat so he was leaning against the sofa now, his body angled towards you, making you unconsciously shift your body to face him as well, your breath hitching in anticipation for what he was about to say next.

“But then, you said you wanted it tattooed, and I honestly didn’t want you to get it but I had no choice, you know, blah blah customer’s preference first and all that bullshit,” he waved his hand for emphasis, “but then after I saw you with the tattoo more, I guess my perspective started to change? I mean, like, you kept insisting that it was so beautiful and all that..you know, seeing you with it kind of started to grow on me.”

Jisung paused, his gaze on a corner of the coffee table as he tried to find the right words to express how he was feeling, shrugging at you and just deciding to say whatever was at the top of his head and work from there.

“I guess it kind of made me love my work more, and like, trust myself, you know… because I realised how beautiful it could be.”

You looked at him wordlessly, your heart picking up speed at the tension in the room, something in you urging you to stand up, making you get up on your feet with no aim in mind.

So as not to look like a complete fool, your hands flew up to hug your arms, “oh, it’s a little um, chilly. Be right back,” you sprinted to your room, reaching in your cupboard for your hoodie and putting it on without a second thought, too preoccupied to notice how it stopped at your thighs and how the sleeves bunched up more.

Returning to the coffee table, you’d almost regretted your decision to put on the hoodie, feeling utterly warm from how flustered you were, especially with the way Jisung was looking at you with a hint of a smirk playing at his lips.

“Sorry,” you murmured, averting your gaze as you tilted your head down, not expecting Jisung to tilt his head down as well so he could search for your gaze, making you scrunch your eyes shut, wrinkling your nose as you let out a huff of laughter.

“You can reject me, you know. I remember you said you already liked someone,” he told you, and Jisung meant it, not wanting anything but to make sure you were okay, and happy.

You shook your head, “I don’t want to,” you murmured, finally daring yourself to meet his gaze, your heart skipping a beat when you saw the way Jisung had smiled.

“I can’t say I’m not happy to hear that,” he told you.

Jisung had brought his hand up, lazily removing his glasses and looking at you finally, since now the other things in the house weren’t as clear in his vision, all that was important being that you were right in front of him, and he could see you clearer than anything.

“Why’d you take your glasses off?” You murmured, seeing him shrug, giving you a lazy smile.

“What? You scared I didn’t wanna see your face?” He teased, the flush on your cheeks making him give in almost immediately, “I’m kidding. I just didn’t feel like being distracted anymore.”

Maybe it was the atmosphere of the living room, or the lingering feelings the song had left in you, maybe it was even the way you felt like you were finally getting what you were waiting for.

Whatever it was, there was an overwhelming feeling of giddiness in you, especially with the way Jisung’s gaze had flickered between your lips and your gaze, and yet he’d made no move to lean closer to you, as if he was expecting you to move first.

Leaning closer, you’d let yourself glance down, getting distracted by the stain of black ink on the sleeve of your hoodie, only realising then that it wasn’t your hoodie.

“Shit, sorry I’m wearing yours by mistake again, it must’ve gotten mixed up,” you murmured, knowing it wasn’t your week to do laundry duty.

Jisung stopped you before you could stand up, pulling your hand forward so the only thing stopping you from losing your balance was his grip on your arm.

“I never thought I’d be saying this but, you can wear it.”

You’d sworn if your heart were any weaker, you wouldn’t have been able to last this long, Jisung seeming almost teasing with the way he’d inched closer at a painfully slow pace, so his lips were barely touching yours.

Just before he could pull back, you’d groaned in frustration, bringing your free hand up to cup the side of his jaw, meeting your lips with his.

And there it was again, the feeling of relief that washed over, knowing that this was very much happening, and that you wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

Jisung pulled away first, his pupils blown and his eyes giving away his surprise, huffing at you and folding his arms, increasing the distance between you.

“I’m only realising this now, what do you mean I’m oblivious?”

You rolled your eyes, “I’ll explain it again later, I swear.”

Jisung huffed, more dramatic this time, making sure you sensed his sulkiness (as feigned as it was), looking at you with a pout on his lips, “give me a kiss and I’ll forgive you.”

He puckered his lips, making you roll your eyes, though you didn’t hesitate to cup his face again, pressing your lips against his as your thumb brushed over his cheek gently, pulling away before he would’ve wanted. You couldn’t help yourself from laughing at the way he’d leaned forward, chasing your lips, frowning at you with a soft sigh when you’d straightened up.

“Can we eat now? The meat’s getting overcooked.”

===

lucas 11:30pm - dude I told u it would work if you smiled at him more cant believe u didnt believe me smh -

[inkweaver22-blr]

Three chapters in three days! I’m on fire! Welcome to the first of the intermediary filler/fluff chapters! There will be a few of these chapters in between each of the major plot-relevant ones to break up some of the seriousness of this fic. Can’t be torturing our boy the entire time now.

AO3 Link

<Previous | First | Next>

Scattered Cicadas - Chapter Three: The Brightest Sun

Tang takes some time to think about everyone's favorite delivery boy.

----------

Qí Xiǎotiān. MK. The Monkie Kid.

Tang watched as the younger man mopped the floor of the noodle shop with a spring in his step. He hummed the theme song to The Monkey King Animated Series as he worked, his bright smile never fading despite the menial labor.

Tang couldn’t help being in awe of the young man. He supposed that if their life were a tv show or book series, MK would no doubt have been the main character with how everything seemed to center around him. Becoming the Monkey King’s successor, fighting demons regularly, being the hero and protector of the city. Throughout it all MK remained upbeat and optimistic. A beacon of happiness and cheer.

Outwardly at least.

Tang felt a pain in his chest as he recalled the cycle where he first learned of MK’s insecurities. The fears of being abandoned by his friends. Anxieties over Monkey King deciding he chose the wrong successor. Absolute dread at not being strong enough to protect everyone.

It hurt the scholar’s heart that the poor kid had felt the need to shoulder the impossible weight of such terrible thoughts on his own. He had gone through his own bouts of such feelings very early on in the cycles and knew it wasn’t a good idea to keep such emotions bottled up.

So he did his best to encourage and reassure MK whenever he could. A pep talk here, some unconditional support and comfort there. Tang also got the others in on it as well, making sure they understood what the kid needed.

(Oh how he had yelled at Pigsy the cycle after learning of MK’s troubles for even daring to suggest that MK was replaceable with a robot.)

The humming soon turned to singing as MK continued cleaning.

Tang didn’t bother hiding the smile that came to his lips. MK was an incredible person in the scholar’s eyes. Yes, he had his own fears and issues, but who didn’t? It was when he confronted those feelings with the help of the people that cared for him that the scholar could see a glimpse of the Monkie Kid’s true potential.

Strength. Confidence. Self-reflection. Love.

With his worries conquered by the affection from his friends, MK seemed to radiate an inner light that was almost blinding. A bright and warming sun that lit up everything around him.

Tang mused that if MK was a sun, then it made sense that he had a collection of people that tended to gravitate around him.

MK’s background never seemed quite the same throughout the cycles, but they were consistent in leaving him without parents in one way or another. Pigsy had filled in as a father figure very easily. The chef’s silent forms of affection and steady presence had been the perfect remedy for a lonely and distrustful teen all those years ago.

The Monkey King also fit into the father role rather quickly once he began teaching MK. He was a bit more distant than Pigsy when it came to showing affection, but Tang still had to admit the old monkey did actually care about MK as if he was his own son.

(It had been a struggle to get him to admit it to the kid, like pulling blood from a stone, but Tang had been patient. The smile on MK’s face had been more than worth it.)

Mei was obviously like a sister to MK, sharing in his enthusiasm and love for life.

Sandy was the kind and doting uncle who always had some helpful advice and a cup of tea ready.

Tang wasn’t exactly sure where he fit in but liked to think of himself as a favorite tutor who told some good stories.

The scholar chuckled as MK began to dance around with the mop, having switched to sing some popular pop song.

It wasn’t just the five of them that tended to get caught up in MK’s shining personality. More often than not, their enemies were also ensnared by his light in various timelines.

Jin and Yin had their mischievous streaks toned down to simpler pranks and goofs whenever MK befriended them.

The Spider Queen had become a powerful ally and aunt to MK one memorable cycle.

Even Macaque would give up on his plans of revenge if he spent time with the kid outside of their twisted training sessions.

There was just something inherently likeable about MK. Some sort of effortless charm and caring he exuded that captured the hearts of those around him.

Tang was of the opinion that if a being spent an extended period of time around MK and still disliked him, then there had been no hope for them ever being a good person.

“Noodle boy!”

Tang smirked into his bowl. Speaking of spending an extended period of time around MK…

MK greeted Red Son enthusiastically, the demon’s reply much more sedate.

The scholar slowly ate his noodles as the unlikely pair conversed. Out of every enemy they faced, the son of the Demon Bull King and Princess Iron Fan was the most likely to be caught in MK’s light.

He supposed that made sense, as he spent more time than any of their enemies interacting with the kid through their fights.

They complimented each other as well. Both were always enthusiastic about whatever they did. MK let himself be pulled along by his heart and emotions while Red Son kept himself grounded with his more logical approaches.

Like himself and Pigsy, the exact relationship between the two seemed to be determined by a toss of a coin. Some of the time they were simply best friends. Other times they were kidnapping each other in the traditional demon equivalent of a marriage proposal.

He would never say it to their faces, but he found the pair cute together regardless of the exact relationship they had.

“I’ll be back later,” MK called out as Red Son pulled him from the shop. “Bye Dadsy! Bye Dad!”

Tang choked on his food.

He quickly placed his bowl down and stared wide-eyed at the closing door. He turned to the chef who had an equally surprised expression. Pigsy and him were the only other ones in the shop at the moment. So that must mean-

“Did he just call us…?” Tang let the question trail off, unsure of what he actually had heard and desperately hoping he wasn’t wrong.

“Dadsy and Dad? Yeah. Yeah he did,” Pigsy answered as a wide grin grew on his face.

Oh. So he had heard correctly.

Love, strong and warm and bright, welled up inside of Tang. His smile was equally as big as the chef’s and he had to remove his glasses to wipe away a few tears.

MK had the brightest personality Tang had ever known. One he was in awe of.

He would do his absolute best to be a good father for MK if that’s what he wanted.

Isn’t that what all the best dads did for their sons?

----------

D'awww! Wasn’t that just so sweet? Next chapter won’t be as fluffy but I would still consider it a bit of filler. Until then!

[nbrook29]

99 🖤🖤

Hello there! You’re officially my last dialogue prompt 🤩 I’m sorry this took so long, anon, I hope you’re gonna like it at least a little 🤓

I don’t take prompts for this challenge anymore. Just wanted to put that out there 😇 There are so many amazing ones on that list, but as of now I have 3 WIPs and one additional one in the works and I’d like to finish them before wtfock ends 😅

Anywho, here you go!

99. “I don’t think I’ve ever played spin the bottle.”

* * *

Robbe is going to kill Moyo. 

In fact, he's going to kill all three of his so-called friends because none of them protested when Moyo, tipsy and on his way to drunk, announced that this party sucked and was in dire need of some spice. 

He wishes he had listened to his past self and stayed home just like he had originally planned. It was supposed to be a quiet night in, editing videos or maybe spent in bed rewatching Romeo and Juliet in peace with no broers around to mock his movie choice while stuffing his face with onion chips and pretending the movie does not make him emotional, no sir. The wetness in his eyes must be sweat, not tears.

Then, after the movie would have ended, his sulking levels high, it would be time for his favorite activity of recent - daydreaming about reality in which he actually had the fucking guts to make a proper move instead of turning red everytime a certain someone was in his close proximity; smiling at him with that perfect sweet lovely smile that turned his already gorgeous features so much more beautiful that Robbe could weep.

And doesn’t that sound like a magnificent evening?

It may sound kinda lame, Robbe is a man enough to admit that, but the prospect of spending the night watching his friends salivating over girls they can’t get being the alternative wouldn't be particularly alluring to anyone, he guesses. Especially since he never partakes in that salivating part himself, instead chugging one beer after another and playing his designated role of a wallflower. 

Story of his life.

The whole thing just plain sucks, because it’s not like his friends aren’t well aware of the fact that Robbe’s interests lie elsewhere and that he’s usually bored out of his mind at those parties. But when there’s at least a semi-attractive girl around them they don’t care about anything else but getting her number and Robbe’s not exactly their priority then. In fact, he could well enough not be there at all and it wouldn’t make much difference. It happens every time they drag him along to those parties and every time he just stands there, rolling his eyes on their embarrassing attempts of flirting. 

Not like he’s the master of flirting himself, but even he’s not capable of stooping as low as they usually do.

This time, he reluctantly agreed to come to this one, against his better judgement, after Jens bugged him about it for their entire biology class, trying to convince him it was going to be more of a small gathering rather than a party. And frankly speaking, he did that just to make him shut up so mrs Jansen stopped glaring at him. Like he was the one running his mouth.

Once Robbe said the magic words “I’ll be there” there was no way of getting out of it. Still, his plan was to come by for an hour or two to get the broers of his back, drink a few beers, talk to Jana maybe, and then quietly leave when everyone would be too drunk and too busy tonguing at each other's tonsils to notice he's gone. 

But to his surprise, the party turned out not to be the typical banger they usually attended. It wasn’t even that bad and he was kinda having fun since he wasn't forced to play the guys' sidekick-gay-friend this time around and instead was dragged by Zoe to the kitchen to drink shots with her, Jana and Luca right after he arrived.

However, parties are not really his scene in general so when it started getting really late he finished his last Buttery Nipple shot composed by Luca (don’t ask) and was just about to make an apologetic face at the girls and say his goodbyes. 

But then Noor and Brit arrived. 

With him.

And Robbe almost swallowed his tongue.

Nobody should have the right to look this good but there he was, laughing with Milan in the hall while taking his signature leather jacket off, running a hand through his smooth like silk hair (Robbe's convinced it's indeed very silky) to ruffle it a little like it ever needed any styling, and in general looking like he had just walked out of Robbe's dream straight into Milan's apartment. 

Sander Driesen.

The reason for Robbe’s cheeks being permanently stained pink as of late.

They met at one of those after school clubs led by Amber several weeks ago that Robbe came to only because he agreed (after pretty much being blackmailed into it) to play Aaron’s wingman in winning Amber’s heart. 

He was gone as soon as those green eyes met his and the boy in front of him, wearing a black Bowie t-shirt and a leather jacket, shook his hand while smiling a little unsurely but still friendly, never breaking their eye contact as he introduced himself in a honey-like voice that penetrated every cell of his body, knees buckling a little, heart stuttering, the whole shebang.

He’s still thanking god he managed to hold back the whimper that was about to get out when he was saying his own name back.

Needless to say, the meeting became much more bearable after that.

Even having to witness Aaron’s cringeworthy attempts of gaining Amber’s attention weren’t that bad anymore. Not when they made Sander chuckle under his breath and catch his eye over Amber’s shoulder, winking at Robbe with a mischief dancing in his eyes as he bit his lip to keep his own laugh at bay. 

And then, Amber came up with some stupid “love excercise” or whatever the fuck she called it and made them all hold hands in a circle. She claimed it released stress and spread positivity or some other bullshit, but Robbe was convinced it was just a ploy she came up with to hold the school’s number one fuckboy Senne’s hand (who, if Robbe had to guess, also wasn’t there out of his own free will). 

Robbe wasn’t a very touchy-feely person, especially with people he had no business of touching in the first place so the whole thing was beyond painful. Thankfully, Jana came to his rescue, snatching his right hand as they exchanged smirks over Amber’s lofty speech about positive energy filling their bodies.

But then someone else gently took his other hand and when he went to inspect who it was, annoyance already starting to creep in, his mouth went dry, eyes going up, up, up the person’s leather-clad arm before stopping on Sander’s face, looking far too entertained.

The boy took an overly deep breath, eyes closed and face feigning seriousness, breathing out loudly.

“Ahh, I can already feel that rush of energy,” Sander leaned in to whisper to him, a teasing tilt to his voice making Robbe giggled at his antics. 

“I guess Amber was right then.”

“No no, I don’t think it’s Amber’s techniques, I just think it’s because of you.”

Robbe just gaped at this shameless flirting, receiving another wink when caught blushing deep pink. Sander seemed unfazed though, totally chill, like saying lame lines and winking at boys was in his everyday repertoire. It definitely wasn’t like that for Robbe, and definitely not from boys as cute as Sander.

He should have probably rolled his eyes at him, called him cocky and full of himself. And yet.

There was something about Sander’s demeanor that screamed it was all a facade, and that underneath there was a huge dork that came out right after that guard was let down. Robbe couldn’t even be annoyed with the smug winking because it was adorned with such a cute smile that it called for a fond eye roll rather than scoffing.

Before he could form at least a half cool response, Amber started shushing all of them with a bossy face, glaring at every person that dared to make a sound. So with a rush of sudden boldness, Robbe just squeezed Sander’s hand and looked at him from under his lashes, biting his lip in an attempt at being coy (and cringing at himself internally) despite his body thrumming with nerves standing this close to Sander, and for some unknown reason it brought the desired effect. 

Sander kept smiling at him surreptitiously throughout the entire meeting, making him laugh with his playful faces at some of Amber’s more ridiculous statements, and it felt like they had an entire conversation even though they didn’t exchange one word during that half an hour.

When they were finally free to go home it was after 21, Robbe realized with a whine. After they all collected their things and were ready to leave, Sander turned around in the doorway, searching for Robbe’s eyes while ignoring the rest of their friends crowding against the door, and when Robbe glanced furtively into his direction his expression turned almost bashful as he said bye, Robin.

And then again with the winking.

Good god this boy.

And how cute it was he couldn’t actually wink? It looked more like a reinforced blinking, but he still looked cute doing it.

Once Robbe came back home that evening, thoughts occupied with bleached hair and the smell of leather jacket, he couldn’t stop himself from searching for Sander’s social media. In just one sitting he gathered a handful of information, finding out Sander was a year older and recently transferred to his school (which would explain how he had missed him in the corridors). He also had a photo with Amber down at the bottom of his profile and from the caption it seemed like they were cousins. 

Robbe’s fingers hovered over the ‘follow’ button, but he didn’t want to seem like a stalker so he just closed the app, throwing his phone on his bed in exasperation feeling sorry for himself and his inexperience in talking to boys.

The universe decided to be graceful for him for once in his life though and put Sander on his path again only 3 days later.

Like every Saturday afternoon Robbe was in the skate park with the broers, taking piss of one another’s skills and trying out new tricks while basking in the October sun that felt more like it was full on spring rather than the beginning of fall. He was in the middle of showing off some of his best tricks to the sounds of his friends hollering when he caught sight of bleached hair in his peripheral, almost falling straight on his ass. But luck was on his side and he avoided making a spectacle out of himself. 

Once he was safely on the ground, skateboard under his foot, he glanced in the direction of white hair one more time to see Sander lowering his vintage camera and whistling, making an impressed face and promptly causing Robbe to downcast his eyes bashfully.

“Hey.”

“Hey, Robin.” 

Robbe sighed. “It’s Robbe.”

“I know, but isn’t that a cute nickname?”

Robbe ducked his head, smiling a little to himself, cursing the heat rising in his cheeks. “Are you always this annoying?”

For a moment, Sander seemed to be taken aback, but then he must have noticed the teasing glint in Robbe’s eyes because he relaxed visibly, confidence back on his face.

Then, easily and offhandedly, he said, “No, just with very certain people.”

If Robbe had any doubts before about Sander taking immense pleasure out of teasing him, he didn’t anymore. He was flashed with another mischievous smile and then Sander nodded at the bowl.

“That was pretty awesome.”

“Thanks.” Robbe scratched at the back of his neck self-conciously, ignoring his friends’ intrigued faces and praying they didn’t say anything stupid. “To be honest, these aren’t even that difficult, anybody could do them...”

“Pff, I tried this skateboarding thing once and let me tell you, I was an absolute disaster so don’t sell yourself short.” Sander nudged at his shoulder with a knowing look, the contact sending a shiver through Robbe’s entire body. 

“So what are you doing here if you suck at it?” He sent him a toothy grin when Sander gaped at his brazen words, faux-scandalized. 

He then lifted his camera swiftly and took a photo of Robbe’s dumbfounded face.

“I’m only around this deadly thing to take artsy pictures of cute boys.”

Looking very proud of himself, Sander laughed at his indignant spluttering, refusing to show Robbe the photo at first, giving in a few seconds later under his killer pout (Sander’s words). 

“So, is this where you spend your afternoons?” he asked casually once they sat down at a nearby bench, Sander scrolling through his camera roll and showing him the photos.

Robbe nodded, watching Aaron from afar attempting the backside ollie and failing miserably. It pulled out a snort from Sander.

“Well, you’re definitely better at it than your friends.”

Elbowing him in the side as a sign of loyalty to his friends, he replied. “Jens is actually better than me.”

Sander sent him a curious look. “Is he your boyfriend?”

“What?! Eww, no! I have way better taste than that.” It’s not like he’d admit he had crushed on his best friend a year ago. So, hopefully, he sounded convincing.

Sander lifted his hands in surrender, laughing at his outburst. “Okay, okay, message received, only the cutest boys for you,” he paused, biting at his lip to hold his smirk. “Makes sense,” he muttered under his breath, but Robbe heard him anyway.

Later that day, he got a instagram notification that informed him that earthlingoddity was following him as of now and damn if that didn’t make Robbe’s heart beat faster.

earthlingoddity sent you a link

S: Considering today’s unfortunate incident, I made you a bowie playlist, need to teach the youngsters like you the real music 😎😏

The first message from Sander made him scoff, but he rolled his eyes at himself anyway when he remembered his conversation with him at the skatepark, asking about the shirt and prompting Sander to quiz him about David Bowie’s songs.

Robbe hid his face in his hands at the mere memory.

Space Cowboy.

How embarrassing. 

Sander tried so hard not to burst out laughing at Robbe’s confusion when his answer was met with a blank stare, bless him.

R: So you're one of those people?

S: What people?

R: Self-righteous hipsters 😜

S: Now now Robin

No need for names 😩

R: It's Robbe

R o b b e

S: Okay Robin ;)

R: 🙄

Unbelievable

S: So 

What's up? 🙃

They kept up at this casual texting for 2 recent weeks, getting to know each other, and Sander confirming that he does, in fact, have a soft side. Robbe also realized he was a much bolder person when no face to face interaction was required when he had more time before responding to Sander. Then there were the occasional “hellos” at school when they crossed paths in the halls, but so far their friendship, if he could even call it that, hadn’t evolved further.

In fact, this party was the first time Robbe had seen him in a week.

Their eyes met for a few short seconds and Robbe waved at him, immediately after wanting to bang his head at the table because who the fuck waves these days? 

Sander didn’t seem to mind this dorky display at all, beaming at him from across the hallway and not paying much attention to Milan who was talking his ear off. A second later, he was out of Robbe’s sight, dragged by Milan and the girls to the living room, leaving him staring longingly after him. 

Before Robbe got his shit together and on shaky legs went there to maybe squeeze out a few words to him, Moyo was already on his way of arranging people into a circle and producing a bottle to spin. 

What a bad fucking timing.

This was so not Robbe’s idea of fun so he started to surreptitiously backing off to the hall to slide out the door but Jana, the traitor, grabbed his arm and sat him next to her, seeming very excited about the game.

It’s not like he was the only one reluctant to play though. Sander’s face looked rather bemused too.

“Come oooon, Sander,” Noor groaned at him, pulling at his sleeve relentlessly to make him plop his butt on her left side. “You promised to leave that sulky slash lovesick face at home and have fun. This is fun!”

“I think we have a different definition of fun, darling,” he retorted, his gaze sweeping through the half-drunk faces, stopping at Robbe’s for a millisecond. It was so quick he thought he imagined the apprehensive look on his face, but then Sander did sit down, letting out a long-suffering sigh and promptly avoided his gaze throughout the game. Which was clearly an intentional effort because they sat exactly opposite each other.

To say Robbe was confused would be an understatement.

And that’s how he finds himself here, sitting in a circle amongst his friends and several strangers who keep hollering and shoving tongues in each other’s throats. He had one close call when the bottle spinned by a redhead girl almost pointed at him, making him hold his breath but then stopping on Moyo sitting on his other side, who was way more eager to fill the deed.

When it’s finally Sander’s turn to spin the bottle, Robbe's heart starts beating double time and he twists his fingers nervously. He realizes with dread that there is no good outcome of this situation; if it lands on any of his friends or any of those few people he only vaguely recognizes, he’s going to have to watch Sander play tonsil tennis with them and his stomach turns unpleasantly with something akin to jealousy at the mere thought. 

But if it lands on him?

Oh god.

The bottle is spinning already, Robbe having missed the moment Sander put it in motion, too busy wrangling with his thoughts about what he should do. The fact Sander has been avoiding his eyes ever since they started this stupid game makes him even more nervous about the whole thing. 

Then the bottle stops, pointing at him so accurately that it leaves no room for question.

And Sander’s face positively falls.

Sitting near him Jens and Moyo are giving him subtle thumbs up and not so subtle shit-eating grins with Aaron next to them clearly confused at their behavior all the while Sander looks like he’s in pain.

Eyes glued to the floor, body rigid, looking like he’d want to be anywhere but here.

People are staring at them, waiting for something to happen and Robbe feels nauseous.

And so humiliated. 

How could he misinterpret Sander’s behavior so much? And it’s not even that, not really. Does the idea of kissing him disgusts him that much he can’t even give him one stupid kiss to avoid putting Robbe on the spot?

From the corner of his eye he can see Noor elbowing Sander in the side and there’s an entire conversation happening between them without one word being uttered. 

Then, several things happen at once. The boys let go of any subtlety and start whooping and hollering like they want to force Sander to make some kind of move, there’s a loud whack coming from the kitchen where one of the couples went to continue their PDA so Jana and Zoe get up to check the damage and then Adi, who has been rummaging through the liquor cabinet for the last ten minutes, yells that he found a ten year old whiskey, making the broers scrambling off the floor to get their hands on it.

The rest of the people are still here with them though. Still staring. And Sander still seems to be rooted to the spot.

And Robbe has had enough. 

Ignoring Noor’s soft Robbe, he gets up and with a heavy heart almost runs to the door, putting his jacket on in a haste, frustration and shame cursing through his body as he runs down the stairs two step at a time, wanting to get outside as fast as he can.

The cold air washes over him once he reaches the entrance and he breaths in shakily, feeling his eyes welling up despite his hardest efforts not to cry.

It just hurts. It really hurts. And if he’s being honest with himself, the fact that there have been witnesses to his humiliation is a small part of the reason why he feels this way. It’s about the fact that it was Sander.

Sander. This boy who let him believe there may actually be someone interested in him. In that way. Sander, who flirted with him, complimented him, smiled at him, listened to him and sent him Bowie playlists.

Sander, who he felt more connected to recently than to any of his friends. 

He wipes at his eyes angrily, scoffing at the fact that this asshole was able to make him cry, when he hears rushed steps on the sidewalk behind him.

“Robbe!”

Walking faster, he tries to ignore the sound until there’s a hand on his shoulder stopping him in his tracks. He turns around ready to blow out in Sander’s face but the boy is faster.

“I’m so sorry for that,” he pants, voice tinted with desperation, apologies written across his face as his eyes flit all over Robbe’s like he’s trying to read his mind.

But Robbe only lets out a humorless laugh. “No worries, I understand, you were very clear. Point taken,” he sneers, starting to walk again.

“No, you don’t understand,” Sander pleads with him, taking his hand in his own to keep him from leaving. Robbe wants to pull it back, but the distressed look in Sander’s eyes makes him hesitate. “I didn’t want our first kiss to be a part of some stupid game. Not when I spent weeks trying to come up with a perfect scenario for our first kiss in my head.”

Robbe promptly loses his breath at his confession. 

“You wanted to kiss me before?” 

“Ever since I saw you,” Sander confirms in a small voice. His demeanor lacks the confidence Robbe got acquainted with, ripped of any trace of the usual conckiness. Instead, Sander appears almost shy, biting his lip nervously as if waiting for a blow and heart-breaking rejection.

There won’t be a rejection though. Not tonight. 

Without second-guessing himself, Robbe takes that one step that still separates them and seals their lips together, hands drifting to Sander’s rosy cheeks on their own, like there was a magnet pulling them in. Sander is stunned at first, his lips unresponsive, but it only takes about three seconds for his brain to catch up and then.

Then.

Then there’s Chernobyl in Robbe’s head.

Fuck.

The way this boy kisses.

Phew.

Robbe’s brain shuts off as Sander’s mouth moves over his with intention, sliding together in a rhythm that leaves him breathless. It’s almost impossible to keep all the noises that threaten to escape inside, one small whimper getting out without Robbe’s accord, but it’s okay because it gets swallowed by Sander’s unyielding lips right after it leaves Robbe’s, making Sander pull him even closer.

Eventually, they have to stop, getting dizzy from the lack of air. When their mouths do separate though it’s only for a centimeter and they keep panting in that small space between them, soon breaking out in quiet giggles.

“I've wanted to kiss you ever since I saw you too. Ever since that stupid meeting,” Robbe admits, feeling brave and like he’s floating on air, no confession scary enough right now. Sander looks very pleased with his words, and Robbe can feel the telltales of his regular confident smile coming back to his face under his lips when Sander pecks him softly.

Then, he draws back, regarding Robbe with eyes full of mischief.

“I only joined to meet you.”

That makes Robbe cock his brow in surprise and he searches his face for a lie or at least a joke, but he doesn’t find any. “You saw me before?”

There’s a pause and then Sander’s smile turns softer. “I saw you the first day of school.”

And, wow. He did not expect such a turn of events. 

“You were sitting at a lunch table with your friends, deep in thought, looking so beautiful you took my breath away. It felt like I saw an angel.”

Blood floods Robbe’s cheek and he drops his eyes under Sander’s intense gaze, because he’s not used to such praise, or praise whatsoever. And then there’s Sander, looking at him like he’s something precious, like he hung the moon and stars, touching him so gently and kissing him so passionately and Robbe feels like passing out.

Sander must have sensed he was getting overwhelmed because he chuckles quietly and cradles his cheek in his palm, thumb sweeping under his eye in a soothing motion as he leaves a few small kisses on his other cheek, melting Robbe in a pile of goo right there on the sidewalk, quiet night around them.

Once he pulls himself together, he can’t resist the tugging at the corners of his mouth and a full-blown smile blooms on his face that’s instantly matched by Sander’s own.

“You know, I don’t think I ever played spin the bottle before but I’d give it zero stars on booking.com,” he declares suddenly pulling a laugh out of Robbe. “I was so scared I’m gonna have to watch you kiss somebody else, phew!” He places a hand on his chest comically, turning on the dramatics. “My poor heart wouldn’t take it, Robin!”

And fuck, he’s so cute that Robbe can only laugh at this (his?) dork, fondly rolling eyes at his antics.

“Yeah, I didn’t want anybody to kiss you either. And it’s Robbe,” he adds with a long-suffering sigh, futilely, he’s sure, but it’s still worth it because Sander’s cheek in tongue expression lets him know the boy loves to rile him up and is not going to stop anytime soon.

Still, to wipe off the smug smile for the time being he pulls him back into a kiss by the lapels of his leather jacket and Sander doesn’t exactly protest such. The second kiss is slower, more thorough, but still mind blowing enough for Robbe to feel heat tugging at his stomach.

“Will you go on a date with me? Tomorrow? Or any other time you’re free? Please?” Sander whispers in the small space between them after they finally break apart, foreheads resting against each other and fireworks going on in Robbe’s brain. Despite them standing so close Robbe can see Sander’s face pretty clear, and he can see his hopeful but tentative expression as he waits for him to answer, eyes growing unsure with each second of silence.

Not wanting to keep him in suspense anymore, he gives his parted lips one more lingering kiss, too weak to resist them when they shine so prettily in the street light above them. “Tomorrow sounds perfect.”

[prorevenge]

Sweet sweet revenge

So for starters this is from about 2 years ago now. I used to work at very well known pizza chain restaurant. If Scooby doo could say it, it would called Rominos. I first started out there as just a cashier and would just do the normal stuff, running the register and placing orders. I eventually learned how to make the pizzas. Over time the store manager wanted to promote me to shift runner. For those who don't know what that is, it's a step below assistant manger. So when I promoted, id be in charge of running the shift and delegate roles for the shift and tell employees when they could leave.

Anyways, getting off topic... while I was working there, there was a guy who started there that had worked there before. When he was there before, he was an assistant manager. He left one day during a busy evening when the store was slammed with orders and customers. He apparently got too stressed out and couldn't handle it anymore. So two years later he comes back, but now as a delivery driver. When he first started for the second time, I didn't know who he was and I had never met him before that. He seemed nice.... at first. After a few days he kept trying to be the person in charge. I had to put him in his place a few times when I was running the shift. Now I wasn't on the best of terms with the store manger. We had a few blow outs here and there, mostly from him breathing down my neck when we were really busy. I snapped at him and told him to back off and let me do my damn job. So when I went to him to tell him about the delivery driver (we'll call him Brad) was trying to act as a manger he didn't seem to really care. Alright whatever. I was talking to the one assistant manager that I was friends with (we'll call him Chad). I had told him the deal and he told me to just tell him off. The next shift I worked with Brad, he again tried acting as the manager, I told him he isn't an Assistant manager anymore and he's driver and needs to stop as I'm the one that's in charge of the shift. He huffed and walked away from me. Everything was fine for a while... Well one day I was sitting in the office taking care of a few things on the computer, and in comes Brad. He starts talking to me about an order and just messing around with me. As I'm finishing up on the computer, he kneels down making it look like he's picking something up off the floor so I don't pay him any mind. Next thing I know, he's jabbing a finger into my breast. I froze unsure of what to do. A million things ran through my mind in a split second. Now before I continue on I should note, this isn't the first time to happen to me in my life. When I was in high school, a guy thought it would be funny/cool to grab my breast as hard as he could one day we were on the bus. In the end I beat the living hell out of him. It took a few people to keep from doing some real damage. He then got expelled from the school. A year or two later I had moved and a similar situation happened on the bus again, this time I didn't get a chance to do anything because the school bus pulled up to his stop and he ran off the bus. Got him suspended from school and his parents apologized to me along with making him apologize as well. Theres some other issues, but you get the point.

So anyway, he jabbed my breast hard and I froze. All those times I had that happen to me flashed through my mind. I got up and I went out back slamming the door hard. I was pacing back and forth for a few minutes. I didn't know what to do, didn't know what to think... I was shaking from being utterly pissed off and from a feeling I couldn't recognize. Now this is the kicker, he comes out acting like nothing happened and telling me how I need to keep the back door locked because that's how the place got robbed before, 4 years ago by the old store managers son... Well the conversation went a little like this

Me: I don't give a fuck! Leave me the fuck alone and go the fuck back inside!

Brad: Don't yell at me and curse at me!

Me: Dude you really do not want to fuck with me right now! Go the fuck back inside NOW! I am not going to Fucking say it again!

Brad: And what are you going to do if I don't?

So before I can say another word Chad comes out because he hears me yelling at Brad. When he sees how red my face is, he gets Brad back inside and then comes to check on me. At this point I'm sitting in my car crying and shaking because I was so mad and so upset. I explained to him what happen. I lived with my mom at the time and he told me to call her, so I did. I told her what happened and she told me to call the Store manager and tell him that something needs to be done about Brad. So I call the Store manager and this is the conversation:

Me: Hey so I wanted to let you know that Brad was very inappropriate and sexually assaulted me. (Blah blah blah you know the story).

Store manager: Oh my god you guys seriously act like children. You all need to grow up.

Me: What!? Are you being serious right now? I need to grow up? Dude one of your MALE employees assaulted me!!

Store manager: Whatever I'll take care of it. Bye.

So when he said he would take care of it, he meant "I'm gonna smack him on the hand and tell him that's not nice and send him home for the night".

Okay fine, I take it a step further and call the District manager. He doesn't answer so I left a voicemail telling him that I needed to discuss something with him in regards to Brad and that if I didn't receive a phone call back, I was going to press charges on Brad. Never got a call back. So I take it another step further... I decide to file a police report. Got my statement written up and had a court date set. Now mind you the day he got arrested we were all working, myself, Chad, Brad, and Store Manager, plus a bunch of others. When the cop that I had given my statement to came in and arrested him, the look on Brad's face was amazing and the look on Store manager's face was priceless too. Store manager kept asking the cop why he was arresting Brad and the cop said that he wasn't at liberty to tell him and that if Brad would like to say then he could tell him. Well B was released a couple hours later and turns out THE DISTRICT MANAGER BAILED HIM OUT!!!!! I was livid. So Brad came back to the store and told Store Manager what happened and why he was arrested. Well I got sent home early because of the issue. I was told neither Brad nor myself would be allowed to return to work until after the issue was resolved in court. Well my mom worked next door, and guess who she seen back at work the next day having a jolly ol time with Store Manager and District Manager.... you guessed it, Brad was back at work already. I call up the District Manager and ask why Brad is allowed back but I'm not. He spews a bunch of bs about how I have a toxic relationship with Store Manager and that's why I'm not allowed back and then offers me to work at a store over an hour away from me, not guaranteed the same position and pay. I told him to shove the job up his ass and to fuck off with that bullshit and hung up on him.

Court day comes, I show up and head over to my lawyer and my support lady that was there. The hearing gets underway and the verdict, not guilty. Great. If only I had gotten this guy who ill call Zack to come (not his real name for privacy reasons). Remember how I said Brad used to work there a few years ago, well that's when Zack was there. Zack was 16 then and Brad was 32.... He told Zack to get down on his knees and to suck daddy's balls..... If Zack had come to the hearing, I could have gotten a guilty verdict. But because I had no proof of what he did, he got off free. Well.... this is where my revenge takes place..... My entire family found about what happened and I legally couldn't take to social media for legal purposes, but nothing ever said my family couldn't. Little did Brad, Store Manager, and District Manager know, my family had a lot of connections and ties in the community. Within a day everyone in the town and in surrounding towns too, found out what had happened. Well needless to say, they lost A LOT of business. Rominos FIRED District Manager, Store Manager, AND Brad!!!!! They aren't ever allowed to work or come into any of the stores ever again. On top of that some how in the midst of things, someone in town found out that the DM was cheating on his wife and told her.... She divorced him and got everything.... Everything could have been fine had DM called me back or even just sided with me. But nope he wanted to side with a pedophile/predator. In the end, I still came out on top!

TL:DR

Employee sexually assaults me, district manager and store manager protect him. Store gets boycotted, store loses sales, higher ups find out what happened, the three of them get fired and black listed from all stores. District managers wife in the midst of everything gets told by a local boycotter that he's been cheating on her. She divorces him and gets everything.

(source) story by (/u/UnicornRainbow666)

[bi-robins-club]

jason had just settled onto his couch with a jane austen novel and his favourite peach iced tea when damian crept in through his window. he sighed internally and decided to simply ignore him. he had told damian to use the front door (nevermind the fact that jason rarely used the door) and more importantly? he was freaking comfortable. after a few minutes as jason flipped idly through the book, damian cleared his throat. jason sighed again, outwardly this time and reluctantly dragged his eyes up to his youngest brother. baby bat was shivering slightly from the rain outside and jason simply rasied an eyebrow as he sipped at his tea. scowling, dami stomped over to jasons bathroom to dry off. he rolled his eyes. how dramatic. damian was acting like he sentenced titus and alfred the cat to their deaths instead of how he was actually saving jason from deep cleaning his rain soaked carpet. (he was still going to deep clean the carpet the next time he tidied up but still)

when damian stalked back into the room, looking less like a wet, angry kitten and more like a dry, angry kitten, jason titled his head back and established eye contact.

"so what brings you over to my neck of the woods, demon spawn?"

instead of snapping back like jason expected, damian simply stood there looking extremely uncomfortable. he shuffled his feet, opened his mouth then closed it and sat next to jason on the couch he splurged way too much on.

"i don't know how to tell you this" dami began, hesitant "but i believe harper is experiencing thoughts of suicide"

jason jerked up, almost knocking over his tea (and what a damn waste that would be) before fixing damian with a look. he hadnt noticed anything different in roy lately but he knew more than anyone that depression acted strangely and was hard to pinpoint. his mind raced with thoughts of why roy might be suddenly suicidal, from a sudden relapse to not getting a happy meal toy included in his 3.99 box of clogged arteries. "why do you say that, damian?"

"i have been keeping an eye on his health since he became a close confidant to you and last night he said something worrying that i am still not able to parse the meaning of" jason smiled lightly at that, in damian speak he was basically declaring that he cared for roy- if for nothing else than for how happy he made jason. still he shook it off and asked what roy had said that was worrying dami.

"he was patrolling last night" jason knew that. roy had been picking up his patrols since jason had a nasty leg wound. it was the reason he wasn't out tonight. "and he was on the phone with an unknown person, though i am inclined to believe it was either Starfire or Canary" okay, still not surprising "and then he said that the only place he could die happy was between your thighs" oh hello blue screen. yes jasons mind was in the middle of rebooting but could you hurry it along? he almost missed what damian said next. "not only does he wish for death upon himself, he wishes for you to give it to him!"

"damian" jason managed, frantically trying to figure out a way to explain to his baby brother without including his sex life. "uhh its just an expression"

damians face brightened up slightly. "really? he does not wish to smother himself between your thighs?"

"yeah, its like...like just a way to say... mind your business? mmhmm" he struggled to get out, pulling an explanation out of his ass.

"you have told father to mind his business a thousand times but i dont recal you ever using that one. is it new?"

oh god. jason would rather die again than continue this conversation.

"uhh its only used if you're close to someone" jason didnt know what he didnt wrong but dami's eyes widened in clear worry. "i thought you and father were reconnecting? has something happened? are you fighting again?"

well shit. jason had not thought this one through. fuck roy and fuck his mile wide kink that centered around jasons thighs. he was going to kill him. and he wouldnt even use his thighs. "oh nonono dami we're fine, just not as close as me and roy" he hedged, pleading to gods he didnt believe in to stop this conversation with whatever means necessary. strike him dead if need be but *please*. damians eyes narrowed "and exactly how close are you with harper, jason?" jason stared in disbelief. how had his nice relaxing evening turned into such a shitshow? damian was fine with roy when he and jason were just friends but now that he was (correctly) assuming a relationship, his over protective instincts were kicking in? christ. he remembered how when dick and babs finally started dating (again), damian seemingly lost all respect for her and called her an evil harlot more than once.

thankfully he was saved by answering in the form of the best person jason had ever met aka duke thomas. he announced his presence by awkwardly coughing. jason met his dark eyes and mouthed 'help me' over damians head. duke smiled as if it was getting pulled out of him by torture but nodded.

"hey dames, dick wanted you to join him by the docks when you finished up here" damian scowled "cant you see i am clearly not finished yet"

"hah, well dick was facing up against scarecrow and i think he needed some back up but you know him"

"yes, he wont admit he needs help when he very clearly does" damian sighed "very well, ill go check on dick. you stay and question jason. " and with that damian clambered out the window and after he disappeared from sight, jason threw his head back to stare at his ceiling and groaned. duke laughed at him.

"hey daisy duke?" duke grumbled at the nickname and jason cracked a smile "how did you know i needed back up?" duke winced and ran a hand over his dreads. he made a face and jasons soul was slowly draining out of his body. "oh haha funny story" duke rocked back on his feet and faked laughed "damians com was still connected to the channel" jason froze.

"who was on the channel oh my god" duke smiled thinly and his hand paused on his head. "other than me? everyone." jason buried his head in his hands and let out a high pitched whine. duke consolingly rubbed his shoulder. this is why jason loved him. he hadn't even laughed at jason like tim, dick or steph would or started plotting death like damian started to. he and cass would just offer support. jasons favorite brother and sister right here folks. duke sat down beside him

"listen. i know what it's like to be outed when youre not ready and when i heard damian grilling you about roy, i thought i would help" jason turned and stared at his brother. duke was staring at his hands and avoiding eye contact. "i got caught with a boy when i was 15 in high school. its pretty shitty to be gay and poor in a homophobic neighbourhood but its worse to be gay, poor and black." jason knocked shoulders with him. "if you tell me the name of whatever asshat outed you, I'll shoot him for you." duke let out a waterly laugh. "they kept bullying me for being gay but if they even listened, they would have realised that im pan" he joked "its a completely different thing after all". jason snorted

"that was horrible"

duke winced "yeah, it was wasnt it. im bad at this" it was jasons turn to avoid eye contact now.

"talia once caught me with a league operative. a male operative. i was so paranoid for days until i caught shiva leaving her rooms. i got the courage to tell her i was bi and she just patted my cheek and asked how my training was going."

duke huffed out a laugh. "bruce gives you shit but i for one think your lesbians moms are cool"

jason laughed with him "just wait until you meet Ducra. shes a badass"

"ducra?" he questioned with a weird look. "how many moms do you actually have? i knew about diana and your assassin moms but thats a new name" jason burst into laughter at the expression on dukes face. "its not fair man. steph is the only other one with a mom and you have four! you need to share" jason choked on his laughter and shoved duke.

"first of all, its only *three*. ducra is like my badass abuela"

"dont you already have a badass grandma? have you forgotten about Ma Gunn? she threatened to shoot bruce in the dick last week!"

"yes well excuse you i need strong female role models in my life, fuck you" the two of them continued to joke around for a little while longer before jason caught a flash of black kelvar outside his window and sighed. duke followed his eyes and smiled before patting jasons shoulder and pushing off. "have fun with the one strong male role model in your life. im going to see if cass needs help" both of them knew that cass wouldn't need help but jason accepted the excuse for what it was. "me and steph are still coming over to study tomorrow. college is kicking my ass and i need you to explain this English assignment to me"

jason scoffed "im not writing your essay for you"

"eh worth a try. bye jace" duke gave a two fingered salute and slipped out the window. jason took the brief reprieve to sip his tea and mourned when he discovered the ice had melted and watered down the peach taste. for the third time that night, someone crept into his window. oh well. third times the charm right? jason wasn't going to acknowledge bruce until he said something himself. it was a repeat of damian. jasom read his book as it got increasingly uncomfortable.

"jason."

"bruce" jason drawled, not lifting his eyes from his book. bruce grunted like the neanderthal he was and jason finally huffed out a heaving breath before marking his page and looking up. bruce looked supremely uncomfortable. actually his face looked exceedingly neutral but jason knew how to read bruce and that was the brow furrow of how do i deal with jason without fucking it up? jason was well famailairsed with that one.

"you know i love you" jasons own eyebrows rose. bruce only said 'i love you' like four times a year tops. and he usually never wasted it on jason. bruce deflated at whatever face jason must have made. goddamn it. this was why jason always fought with bruce with his helmet on, he couldnt control his facial expressions for shit. "no you dont know that." bruce smiled thinly and to jasons suprise, quickly crossed the room and knelt, placing his hands on jasons shoulders.

"even if you dont believe it, and its my own fault that you do and i hate that i ever caused you to even doubt my love for you, i swear that i do, jay lad" jason was completely frozen. he had expected bruce to yell at him for letting roy go unchecked on patrol last night and how irresponsible he was yada yada, not this declaration of feelings that he had no clue how to deal with. he couldnt remember the last time bruce called him that. it had to have been when he was still in those scaly green panties and pixie boots. and not the adult verison that jason picked up from a halloween store on a whim just to see roys eyes.

bruce sighed and drew jason into a hug. when bruces shoulder started getting wet, jason was horrified to realise he was crying. "i wanted you to know that i wouldnt love you any less for loving a man. but you have to know that i love you in the first place for that to happen" bruce said self deprecating.

"shut the fuck up" jason said sniffling and gripping his dads back. "i hate you"

bruce laughed softly at him before pressing a kiss to the side of jasons head. "i want you to know that i expect roy-and you- over at dinner on sunday. i need to meet the man that stole my babys heart" he murmured. jason laughed wetly "youve already met roy, you just want to con me into actually coming to family dinner"

bruce smiled "that was before i knew you two were dating. roy needs to know what hes getting into" jason leaned back enough to stare into bruces eyes and weakly punched him in the chest "dont threaten my boyfriend. he refused to look at me for two weeks after t was done with him" bruce sighed longingly "its times like this when i remember what caused me to love talia in the first place."

"bruce!" the aforementioned man laughed and hugged jason tightly before stepping back a few steps. "Sunday dinner. you and roy. 8 pm." on a whim jason reached out and snagged bruces hand. "hey" he started, swallowing "you wanna stay for a while? we could watch a movie or something" bruces eyes softened and he nodded. "let me change out of the suit."

and if roy had crept in after patrol only to see jason napping on his dads chest to a shitty action movie playing in the background and took several pictures, well that bruces fault for not waking up when roy stumbled it. (nevermind the fact that bruce had every single one of those pictures saved on his phone) (nevermind the fact that after roy put his phone away, he was greeted to the sight of batman glaring at him as he twisted a batarang around his fingers. it was sorta ruined by the fact that jasons curls was hiding the lower half of his face but roy was still adequately terrified)

[rikorene]

𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚 // t. kageyama (reader insert)

sypnosis: you’ve living your life in the cold dark shadows inside of the walls of your mansion, never believing in things such as soulmates nor love, even dismissing the simple thought of it. then, you met a pair of lovely navy blue eyes that oddly resembled blueberries, but despite that, they held so much warmth in it. a warm feeling that you didn’t want to ever let go. 

genre: ANGST ANGST ANGST, fluff. (oof i’m sorry for the angst) 

note: this is an 1800′s AU in case y’all are confused hehe. i swear i love kageyama tobio but this idea suddenly popped up so. meh. 

it was a meeting of fate. 

you really didn't mean to actually stray away from the group of guests and into the gardens alone, their expensive perfume scents, blinding jewerly and fake smiles were getting too much for you, leaving you in a dizzy haze. 

you just wanted to get away from it all. 

the thought of being wedded off to someone you didn't even love was sickening, yet, this was your role. never in your whole life have you played a different role, you wanted to become someone that you were proud of. 

yet, you couldn't escape this no matter how you look at it. 'too risky' you had thought and believed that nothing big was worth the risk. 

you sat on a marble bench, flinching as the cold surface touched your skin, it was smooth as expected, a few chips and cracks here and there. you stared at the full moon, remembering a story that your nanny once told you when you were young. 

"if you send a wish to a full moon and pray for it, your wish will be granted." 

you scoffed at the idea, growing up you wished and prayed to some deity that a prince would sweep you off of your feet and take you away from the mansion that you resided in. childish dreams were often shattered by the harshness of reality. you were bound to the chains of abiding your parents' wishes, it has always been like that. you saw a flock of birds and grew envious, thinking how it would be better if you became a bird instead, free to do whatever you want. you wanted to fly away from this place. 

tears dripped down from your face, you raised your hands up to wipe away those tears but a sob slipped out. you were miserable and no one knew about your unhappiness. 

kageyama froze as soon as he heard a sob in the garden, it was a beautiful night, a party has been held inside of the mansion he was serving. he didn't even want to be there, often irritated at the snobby rich people who came for either marriage or to show off their possessions. 

it was unusual to hear someone cry when people celebrated inside, he walked closer to where the sound was coming from and there he saw a girl, wearing a beautiful (favorite color) gown that sparkled in the moonlight. 

he wanted to reach out to you, ask why were you crying, but he thought that it was best to let you cry even though he didn't know the reason. he walked to the bench and sat down on the opposite side, his presence was soon known when the girl flinched. kageyama tilted his head back and stared at the stars, his back was only a few centimeters from yours and a few words slipped past his lips. 

"it's okay to cry. just let it all out." 

he said in a quiet voice so that only you could hear. you paused for a bit, wondering who the boy was. but odd enough, the words he said were comforting. you wanted to cry your heart out, even just for a bit more. and you did. 

his silence and the warmth radiating from his skin was all you needed. soon enough, you had finished crying, the only evidence that you cried was your flushed ears and nose with puffy eyes. you wanted to laugh at yourself out of pity. 

kageyama turned his head hoping to see your face "are you feeling better now?" he asked and you nodded. 

"i'm sorry that you had to see me in this state." you apologize, letting out a dry chuckle and wiping a tear. 

"it's fine." kageyama replied and moved so that he could directly sit next to you, then he finally saw your face. beautiful (eye color) eyes, (skin color) skin that looked soft to touch, you were the most beautiful creature that he had ever laid his eyes on. 

"i must look like a mess." you laughed, covering your face with one hand but kageyama reached out to you and held your hand.

"you're beautiful." 

almost instantly your face heated up and you blushed, soon kageyama realized what he had just said his face turning red as well. 

"i- i'm sorry i didn't. well..." he stuttered out, covering his lips that was slightly trembling. he thought that he was an idiot for saying such words, but you just giggled at his shy attitude. 

"it's fine." you waved it off, leaning back and stared at the moon once more, he followed your gaze and saw the moon that was full and bright, bringing a soft glow on your face. 

"the moon is beautiful." you said, still staring at the moon. 

"yeah, very beautiful" kageyama agreed. 

but he wasn't looking at the moon. he was staring at your face. 

"i'm sorry, it must've been rude. but i'm (name)" you said as you turned to him, reaching a hand out. once he grasped your hand, you noted how warm it was. dismissing the feeling of sparks and butterflies erupting in your stomach. 

"tobio. kageyama tobio." he replied, a faint blush creeping up on his cheeks. and with that, the two of you explored the garden, enjoying each other's company. often laughing as you talked about simple things, telling stories and tales of fun experiences.

the night ended with you in his arms, swaying along to the faint sound of music coming from the ballroom. you felt safe and warm in his lean and slightly tan arms, you knew that the feeling was like no other. everything with kageyama felt right. for once you were convinced that the place where you belong was in his arms. 

with a heavy heart, you both bid your good byes, he promised to write to you and visit as much as he could. 

"wait." tobio called out to you making you stop in your tracks, he rushed to you and held your right hand. he pulled a silver ring with a small navy blue gem on it off his finger and slid it onto your middle one since it would be too big for your ring finger. 

"a promise." he said, his cheeks slightly going red. his heart was pounding against his chest and he opened his mouth to speak again "a promise that i would do my best to see you and make you the happiest woman alive." he continued. 

you replied with a smile and stood on your tip toes, placing a quick kiss on his lips, leaving kageyama frozen. you nodded "i'll wait for that." you replied and hurriedly went back in the mansion where your parents were in. 

as soon as you left, kageyama began to breathe again, he let out a wide grin and began to happily skip back to the mansion to fulfill his duties. 

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

weeks in of kageyama secretly going to your mansion and slipping in through the window and balcony, he really did make you feel like you were someone that you could be proud of. kageyama saw you as someone who was worth more, someone that deserved a better life than this. he believed that he would do his best to make you live happily despite the circumstances. you felt like you could conquer the moon when you were with him, he often visited at night when everyone was asleep, he would bring sweets and lay a blanket at the balcony to go star gazing, whether the moon was out or not. 

everything was beautiful with him.

"why do you love me?" he asked one night, the two of you on the balcony, pillows and blankets were surrounding the two of you as you were cuddling close to him enjoying the warmth that he provided. 

"because, you're you." you replied, smiling up at him, he just smiled and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer to him. you loved him despite the short amount of time the two of you had spent together. 

you were the most precious thing in his world, you both adored one another. loved the warmth that you both provided for each other. 

this time, you believed in soulmates.

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

it was a quiet and windy afternoon in the mansion, the servants were doing their own things and you were roaming in the almost empty and dark halls, hoping to find something that would excite you. 

you soon walked to the path where your parents' study resided in, it was dark since the curtains were closed, they hated anything that emitted light and warmth. you never knew the reason why, but they just did. 

you notice that the door to their study was slightly ajar and heard their voices along with someone whose voice was unfamiliar to you. 

"i understand of your daughters rendezvous with this mysterious man, but would you please get to the point? i do not like wasting my time chatting." 

you stopped in your tracks. they knew. you leaned closer to the wall so that they wouldn't sense you eavesdropping on their conversations. it was foolish of you to allow tobio to keep coming to the mansion, you should've refused and became contented with you and him writing letters. 

"after talking and interrogating the staff, it has been confirmed that this man is not a man of royalty or even a man of a wealthy family. the staff catches glimpses of a ragged brown coat rushing through the gardens at night. and i want him stopped, it's bad enough that our daughter is being a rebellious child, it's even more scandalous to think that she sneaks out at night with this ruffian" 

you heard your father complain, you covered your mouth with both hands and stepped back and away from the door slightly. cold sweat was running down your back as your hands trembled slightly. 

what were you gonna do now that you and tobio has been found out? would you run away with him? is it worth the risk? 

"you wouldn't mind me using a much more... immoral method, would you?" 

you couldn't breathe, you knew what he was talking about. 

"i don't mind, just get him out of the picture." was your father's reply and you ran down the hall and back into your room, you let out a sob as soon as you closed the door, you couldn't afford to lose tobio. you had to run away; run away and never look back no matter what. 

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

the moon was out, glowing beautifully as the stars twinkled in the night sky. you checked if you were lacking any coins, you put on your dark hood and rushed to the balcony as soon as you heard a stone bump off the glass door. 

kageyama tobio was a very beautiful man indeed, even when wearing a simple white dress shirt with black blacks. you smiled at him, your eyes still a bit teary from your earlier breakdown. you signalled your hands for him to wait as you rushed to let down a makeshift rope and climbed down, hugging him instantly. 

"let's run away." you breathed out in a quiet voice "you make me the happiest when i'm with you. i want to start a new life with you, i wanna be with you forever. so please, let's run away." you told him quickly, holding both of his warm hands. kageyama was shocked, frozen in his place and soon enough he gave you a soft smile. 

"yeah, let's." he replied. you froze when you heard a rustle of leaves, it couldn't be the wind. it wasn't even windy. 

"run." you breathed out and broke out into a sprint with kageyama slightly trailing behind, soon he picked up the pace and began to run with you, giving you a look of confusion. 

"please kageyama faster" you pleaded, still running, his turned to look back to see a man clothed in black running after them, a glint of silver in his hand as he ran. 

"shit." kageyama cursed and picked up the pace, the two of you ran towards a door that lead to the outside, almost there. but kageyama almost lost his balance when he tripped over a wire as he clumsily tried to continue running. 

"tobio!-" 

then a gunshot, red liquid splattered onto your face as kageyama lost his balance completely and fell down, crimson red liquid was seeping through his back and you tumbled down a few feet away from him. 

the ringing in your ears was loud and you couldn't hear anything else, your heart was thumping loudly and you couldn't control your breathing. instantly you got to your feet and rushed to kageyama's side, you saw his pained expression as he coughed out blood. 

"k- kageyama no please..." you stuttered out and his hand reached up and cupped your cheek, his warmth was still there as a sift smile made it's way to his bloodied lips. 

"l- let's run away! please let's get up and we can get a house somewhere far away.. we can start a new beginning. j- just you and i--" you were cut off when kageyama chuckled in a painful manner. 

kageyama himself knew that it was done for, he couldn't breathe properly, and he could barely see you through all the pain as he squinted his eyes to get a good look at you. one last time. 

"that would be nice, huh?" he coughed out more blood, his voice hoarse and raspy. the bullet hit a vital spot in his lungs, he knew that. you both knew that. but you were in denial, you refused to let him go. 

"y- yeah and we could get married, yeah? it would be just the two of us and nobody else."

"in that case... will you marry me right now?" 

tears streamed down your face as you nodded, cupping his cheek with your hands "yes." you replied, forcing a smile on your face. 

"i vow, to always love you... l- love you better even after death..." he struggled to talk, his vision already turning black as he forced out a smile, his one eye already closing. 

you let out a sob, tears slipping past your eyes and onto his cheeks "i vow, to love you, even in the next life." you promised, letting out choked sobs as his grip on your cheek went weak, you grabbed his hand and leaned into it, kissing his palm as you cried. 

"i'm happy..." his eyes stared at you, clearly dropping, the eyes that you had loved so much. his blue eyes that resembled the blueberries that he would give you when he came over. kageyama's eyes that would twinkle in the starlight holding love and mischief in them, telling you wonders and tales of the stars that the two of you would stare at for hours, not caring if the two of you would lose sleep in the process. 

"you're beautiful." he muttered and closed his eyes. a soft smile still on his face as the hand that you were holding went limp. 

you cried as you held him that night.

'i promise to love you better even after death.' 

'i promise to love you even in the next life.' 

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

"ehhh?! a new manager?" hinata yelled as the 2nd year duo, nishinoya and tanaka, danced around in delight. thinking that it would probably be a cute girl in the lower grade. 

kiyoko nodded and stepped aside, revealing a (short/ tall) girl with big round e/c eyes and (short/ long) smooth h/c hair who stared at the men in front of her with curiosity. 

"n- nice to meet you, my name is l/n y/n. please take care of me" you introduced yourself as you bowed, nishinoya and tanaka gushed at how cute and timid you were being earning a punch from daichi. 

the first years introduced themselves to you with a handshake, and soon you saw blue eyes. 

'they look like blueberries.' 

you reached your hand out to him with a smile "hello, i'll be your new manager, please call me y/n!" you said cheerfully. 

"tobio. kageyama tobio." he replied and shook your hand, he felt sparks instantly as you felt warm. it was a comforting kind of warmth. 

"you're beautiful." 

instantly the entire gym was silent, you flushed red and as soon as kageyama realized what he had said he let go of your hand and covered his mouth as he blushed. 

nishinoya and tanaka went to him and began to playfully beat him up with hinata jumping around in the background. and even so, the only thing that you could hear was your heart beating like crazy from the compliment that came from the navy blue eyed boy. 

you felt warm, a familiar feeling. as if you'd felt it before. 

and you liked it.

END. 

[keichan]

Running Through the Night Tsukishima Kei x fem!reader Part 4: Not Here

You and Tsukishima have been friends for as long as you two could remember. With a very unexpected confession, how will this affect you two?

Authors note: I actually wrote this as soon as I released part 3 but I just wanted to think on it for a bit and see how I could make it better (:

Word count: 1242

Genre: college au, unrequited love, angst, best friends to lovers, fluff somewhere in there, mutual pining

Warnings: manga time skip!!! 

Send me a message or ask to be added to the taglist !

masterlist・previous・next

You woke up in the late afternoon with the sun peaking through the blinds in dim rays. You sat up on the couch and looked around to see no one there. 

Maybe his hangover was so bad that he’s still asleep? You walk towards the mirror in the hallway. You look a mess. Your face is puffy from the night before and your hair unruly. You sigh, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and patting your hair down to the best of your abilities before continuing the walk down the hall. You were ready to talk about last night. 

Tsukishima Kei confessed to you. Your best friend in the whole world is in love with you. The man attached to your hip for as long as you can remember. He kissed you. He was as vulnerable as you had ever seen him in your entire life. Though he was drunk and the words came fumbling out, his actions carried his feelings with a tender delicacy. How come you’ve never noticed before? It’s a known fact by everyone surrounding the two of you that he was gentler around you, but you never saw the need to pay it any kind.  It isn’t your fault that you didn’t kiss him back if you never saw it coming? Right?

You slowly stepped into Tsukishima’s room. The door was already slightly ajar, already eliminating your suspicion from earlier. The room was empty. The bed was made. The glass on his nightstand wasn’t there. Kei was gone?

Perhaps he went to the grocery store? He never has work on Sundays so there’s no possible way that he’s there. You walk back to the couch to check your phone. It was only 2pm. 

Zero notifications from Kei. Zero notifications from Yamaguchi. Just a ‘Great to see you’ text from Matsukawa. 

Odd. Usually when he leaves you alone while you’re sleeping he lets you know where he’s going. 

You call his phone to have you answer. You send a text and sit down with a sigh. He’ll come home eventually, you’ll just have to wait until then. 

When you and Kei were children, no matter where you’d go, he’d follow with excitement. It was always whatever you wanted to do and it was good enough for him. From coloring, to playing in the park, walking to and from school together, hell he’d even play dolls with you.

Everything about you was so exciting from the day you two met.  There wasn’t a moment that Kei wasn’t smiling around you. He didn’t know then that you would always be his happy place. 

 When Kei picked up volleyball from Akiteru. The roles in the friendship reversed at this time. You would help him practice in his backyard after school and on the weekends. Always being his number one fan at every match he’s had from childhood until now. Always following him around. His need to play was inspiring to watch. Seeing him being so happy over volleyball radiated brightly to you. As long as Kei was happy, you never felt the need to be sad. 

His brother was always you and Kei’s biggest inspiration. With you personally not having any siblings, Akiteru made sure he was there as an older brother for you.

After Tadashi came into your lives the bond between the three of you was inseparable. However that’s around the time when Kei changed. The three of you went to Akiteru’s last game at Karasuno believing all of the stories that he has told you and Kei about being the ace. Kei shoved off his emotions that day and labeled his brother as pathetic, but you knew his heart broke. To see Akiteru across the gymnasium in the bleachers, not anywhere on the court, changed him. He turned on his heel and exited the gymnasium leaving you and Yamaguchi alone. Yamaguchi gave you a knowing look and you dipped his head and chased after the lanky boy. 

“Kei! Kei! Kei!” You sprinted to catch up with the tall boy. You grabbed his arm and pulled him to a halt. “Y/N! Stop! Leave me alone!” he yanked his arm out of your grasp and looked angrily away from you. You stood your ground. “Let me be the one you can depend on. I’ll always always always be there for you. I’ll never let you down.” You declared crossing your arms. Kei didn’t say anything, but the shadow of a smile rested on his lips.

After that day Tsukishima became more reserved. Instead of moving along happily, among others he kept to himself. If anything minorly inconvenienced him, a snarky comment would have to fall from his lips. You would gently scold him and he wouldn’t do it again. He’d always lend a sly smile and go along with whatever you needed to do. Like when you two were children, he’d follow you around wherever you’d go and always have a faint smile when your presence was around. You being the light walked him through the dark. You became his safe place. 

In Karasuno, you two managed to be in the same class every year. You consistently studied together during breaks and lunch. If anyone needed to know where you were, one could always depend on the assumption that you’re with Tsukishima. 

You’d walk him to practice. Sometimes you’d peep in if you had nothing else to do. You managed to befriend the team and everyone was quite fond of you. Especially Hinata due to the fact that he was Kei’s favorite person to pick on. Everyone enjoyed your presence near the court because it noticeably dialed Tsukishima back….

You snapped out of your thoughts to see the living room covered in a pink hue from the sunset outside. You look down at your phone. It’s nearly 6 and he’s still not there. You dial his number again and place your phone to your ear.

He doesn’t answer.

You try to send some texts. The ones from earlier still not read. 

You: Kei? Where are you? I’m still at your place. When are you coming home?

You: Are you okay? You haven’t been home in hours

You: We need to talk about what happened last night

Delivered

Eight more attempts of calling him to no avail. Many many more texts are sent to be kept on delivered. You sigh running your hands through your hair letting out a scream. It was now night time outside as you paced around the apartment anxiously.

You raise your phone to your ear, calling Yamaguchi.

“Yama, is Kei with you?”

“No? I haven’t seen him since I left the apartment last night. Why? What’s going on?”

“Umm.. It’s nothing, don’t worry about it. Bye Yama!” 

“Bye, Y/N!”

Kei wasn’t going to come back home. You just knew it.

You don’t know what to do at this point. You look at your phone again and scroll through your contacts until you find the person you were looking for and place the phone to your ear.

“Hey, Senpai, I’m sorry I’m calling so late, but would you be able to pick me up from Kei’s house? I really need someone to talk to right now”

Twenty minutes later you walk outside and go up to a car pulled up on the sidewalk. You open the car door to immediately be greeted. 

“How’s one of my favorite Kouhais doing? It’s been a while!” Sugawara Koushi smiled brightly at you. 

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[ourimpavidheroine]

I want to know what your boss did and what, specifically, you fucked up for them. I love stories of corporate revenge! Mwahaha!

Waaaay back in the day I worked for this Fortune 500 company. The job was soulless and it sucked, quite frankly. This was the mid-late 90′s and I was routinely getting shafted/bullied at work due to my autism, although I didn’t know why it was happening at the time. Just that it was happening and I had no idea what to do about it. 

The office I worked in had a former office manager who was named Liz. She was in her late 60′s and because the company was cheap, she was transitioned out of the office manager role into a team manager of sorts. (They wouldn’t actually shell out for just an office manager.) Which was a joke. She was past retirement age at this point and barely even knew how to turn on a PC, never mind actually manage a department full of IT people. She was a sincerely nasty lady and she didn’t like me at all. I didn’t report to her - I worked directly under my manager, Jim. However, he traveled all the time, and when he wasn’t in the office, she took it upon herself to manage me. Which meant she was always trying to give me her shit to do and then take credit for it, because as I said, she was utterly clueless.

When my father died, I contacted the office from the hospital to let them know and since my boss was out of the office I got her instead and the first thing she said? “Well, when can we expect you back? Tomorrow?”

I MEAN. YOU BITCH.

(For the record, when I did get ahold of my manager he immediately gave me three weeks off and told me I could take more if I needed it, sent a floral arrangement to the funeral, etc.)

Liz especially loathed me because I caught on to the whole “I’ll make Impavid do it and then take credit for her work in a meeting she isn’t invited to” pretty much right away and I put a digital signature in the documents saying they were mine and naturally she had no idea that a)the signature was even there or b)how to remove it. My manager happened to be in a meeting, saw it, and demanded of her why she was taking my time to do her own work. Oh, it was a SHITSHOW. And of course it was all my fault, according to Liz. She took it upon herself to start lying about me - telling people I was arriving late for work, etc. Honestly she was just shooting herself in the foot, at this point my manager Jim didn’t believe a word she said about me, I literally could have stood over her with a bloody knife (the temptation was there, trust me) and he would have assumed she was lying about me killing her.

Fast forward to about six months after my Dad died. (And about 3 months from when I got married the first time. Oh, did I mention I got married 3 months after my father died? WOW THAT WAS A MISTAKE. Anyhow. I digress.) Jim was making a permanent move to the company’s San Francisco office and asked me if I wanted to go with him. I immediately said yes. (I was working in Sunnyvale at the time, and commuting from Oakland to San Francisco instead was a better commute, for sure. Not to mention no Liz.) So he and I had a week where we got everything closed down/packed up from that office. They had a little going away party for us and Liz accidently forgot to order the cake for it.  🙄 Whatever. 

I left with everyone else - it was Friday night, so everyone was bailing early. I drove my car around the block and waited until the parking lot had cleared. They’d taken my keycard away but the afternoon/evening shift server room guy was there. Paul. Nice guy, he and I were pretty friendly. I rang the after hours bell and he came and I was like, I forgot something. He nodded very slowly and he was like, well, I am going to take my usual smoke break out here, will you be long? I told him, not long at all. So I went in and made my way to Liz’s office. Now she did have a locked door but kids, those old office doors were super easy to jimmy with a credit card, and I had an ancient Costco card reserved for that very kind of thing. I booted up her PC and put in her password. How did I know her password? One of the spreadsheets she made me do had a listing of people’s passwords and I just committed hers to memory because as my very dearly departed Daddy always told me, revenge is a dish best served cold.

First things first, I found out she had some little games on her PC - something we were not allowed to have and I deleted all of those motherfuckers. Bye bye all your game progress! But the real reason I wanted in was that one of my co-workers had shown me a really nasty email Liz had been sending around about me. So I went into her email and found just a bunch of super catty, gossipy and downright evil emails she’d been sending around to various syncophants in the office (not just about me, either, not by a long shot). We’re talking two or three years worth. She had no idea how to delete them, the dumb cow. So I went in and I forwarded a pretty big chunk of them to the group email address that went to every single person in the office from her email. Then I shut everything down, made sure her door was locked behind me and went out, where Paul was still having a smoke break. It took me about 15 minutes. Paul just winked at me and said, “So you were never here,” and I was like, nope.

They fired her over it. Paul called me up at my new office a few days later and told me. He told me she kept telling everyone that I had done it but everyone had seen me leave along with everyone else and her office was still locked. They pretty much just assumed her incompetent ass had accidently done it somehow. Not that I suppose it mattered who did it, after all. I am guessing the one where she speculated that the office boss was fucking his admin assistant especially went down a treat. 

And there you have it.