#oh so they finally remembered stat is part of best friends huh???

[homoeroticgrappling]

EXCLUSIVE! After a shocking turn of events on last night's #AEWDYNAMITE, our cameras try to catch up with @.trentylocks backstage.

[hgfictionwriter]

Maybe This Time - Part Three

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie and you finally get some 1:1 time together (thanks Janine!). You work to build new memories together, but hurt from the past needs to be addressed.

Warnings: None. Temporary, very light angst, but mostly sweet fluff.

A/N: Part two and one.

"What do you think? Should I go for it?" 

Jessie smirked as she saw the screenshot you sent her of her jersey in the Thorns' site shopping cart. 

"I don't know. I thought you said that was too big a commitment." 

"I did. But I was rather impressed at the last game. And we went for drinks after, I finally got to meet Janine – so you know, points for that. And if I think about it, I'm like an OG fan. But if you think I should get a different jersey..." 

Jessie laughed under her breath, her smirk now a full blown smile as she read your message while she ate lunch. The conversation she'd been on the periphery of carried on as she ate another bite before typing out a reply. 

"Oh yeah? Post-game drinks were a hit, huh? And you know, my stats are only getting better with each game 😉 And let's be honest, I'd be pretty offended if you got someone else's jersey. Except Sinc's. Because, you know, GOAT." 

"Oh, well, say no more. You had me at 'stats' lol. Done. I'll pick it up before next game." 

"Lol I figured. My plan all along – I know how much you love stats." 

"You know me so well. I have to say, I'm kind of tempted to modify the jersey. Add some sort of patch or stitching, 'Yay sports!'" 

Jessie laughed out loud, less discrete than before.  

"Don't you dare lol. I've taught you better than that. But hey, if you ask nicely, I could actually sign it for you 😎" 

"I'm sure I have an old group paper kicking around with your signature on it. I need to be able to wash this thing lol. What else can you offer though?" 

Jessie swallowed her food hard, the bite getting caught temporarily in her throat with a wince. Okay, no signature – how humbling. However, there was an opening. 

She stared at her phone temporarily before a loud clearing of someone's throat caught her attention. She lifted her gaze with a curious frown on her face to see Janine staring expectantly at her. Jessie instinctively tilted the phone inwards towards her body. 

"I don't even have to spy to know who you're texting," the blonde said rather self-satisfied. Jessie looked around, heat building in her face already as she hoped Janine was the only one focused on her.  

"Yeah?" Jessie retorted, attempting to appear as unfazed as possible. "You should be pleased. You keep pushing me to text her." She cracked a smirk. "Now that you don't think she's the devil incarnate for 'stringing me along' in university." 

"Oh I don't think you need to be pushed," Janine teased with a wicked grin. "And I never said she was the devil incarnate." She lifted a hand to her chest in exaggeration. "I merely questioned things. But you're right," she relented, "she's quite lovely. And she gives you butterflies, and she makes you blush - more than usual - and you try to act all nonchalant and it's just too adorable for words." 

"Uh huh," Jessie muttered with a flat look. Janine leaned in excitedly. 

"And I have to say, I got the sense that she and I could riff off of each other and just tease the heck out of you, so that really sealed the deal for me." 

Jessie rolled her eyes. "Oh yeah, that's exactly what I need in my life." She'd never admit that it actually excited her that her best friend and you could get along so well. If – and it was a huge 'if' - anything evolved between you two, it was key that you got along with her friends and family.  

She started thinking about how well you got on with her parents and sister – you'd met before during your days at UCLA and they loved you. She also remembered how disappointed they'd seemed when she eventually told them that you two didn't speak anymore.  

"Well, since you're so invested," Jessie went on, rolling her eyes facetiously once more as she opened her phone again and turned it to Janine, "what should I say?" 

Janine squinted as she leaned in to read and it only took a moment for her expression to light up. Before Janine could say anything, Jessie snatched the phone back and placed it on her lap with a frown.  

"I don't want to hear it," she pre-empted the girl. 

"What?" Janine said innocently with a mischievous glint in her eye. "I am totally supportive of the flirtation between you two." She ignored Jessie's look of complaint and cut off her protest. "Her shutting down your autograph is pretty hilarious, by the way," she said with a marginally apologetic look. "Not smooth on your part – you know she's not impressed by your elite football skills. Don't lean on your Jessie the Footballer identity." 

"I wasn't," Jessie nearly hissed, trying to keep her voice down and avoid drawing attention. "I was joking. Half joking." 

"You were flirting, or at least attempting to. She left you an opening here though. So, you should ask her out." 

"I'm not asking her out," Jessie pouted, her shoulders rounding as she scooched closer to the table. She huffed upon seeing the scrutinizing look her friend gave her. "We're still getting to know each other again." 

"Fine. Don't define it as a date, then," Janine dismissed with a wave. She leaned in, folding her arms on the table. "Ask her to go for dinner." 

"Basic," Jessie remarked as she sat up and crossed her arms in disapproval. She frowned. "Plus that's too date-like." 

"Fine," Janine said curtly. "How about a hike?" 

Jessie hummed and hawed, unconvinced. "Maybe someday. Doesn't seem right at this point though." Janine rolled her eyes in exasperation.  

"Well, what did you two used to do back at UCLA?" 

Jessie shrugged. She saw the frustration Janine was telegraphing at how unhelpful she was being and jumped in. "We went to drop-in art classes sometimes." 

Janine held a hand up to the sky. "Thank you. Finally – something I can work with. Okay! Let's find a drop-in class for you two to go to then." She pulled out her phone and started browsing before shooting a look at Jessie as an aside. "Oh, and dinner's too date-llke, but an art class isn't? Okay." 

Jessie grunted and pulled out her phone as well to look.  

"Here," Jessie announced after a couple of minutes. "This'll work. She enjoyed painting." 

Without further consultation, Jessie began to type out a message to you. She bit back a laugh at how Janine's head was bobbing around periodically trying to peek at the message from across the table.  

"Don't send it yet! I want to see it," Janine pouted.  

"You are not writing my messages for me," Jessie told her pointedly, but gave a heavy sigh as she turned her phone for the blonde to see. An affronted look crossed Jessie face as Janine let out a guffaw and snatched the phone out of her hand.  

"No," Janine simply said with a wag of her finger before she started typing. Jessie reached out for the phone, but Janine turned her body away. Jessie clamored more, but stopped as soon as she noted some of their teammates glancing their way. She shrunk back into her seat, a hand rubbing the side of her face as she spoke in a harsh whisper.   "What are you doing." 

"Jeff. Relax. I would never lead you astray," Janine assured her. "And this is so very satisfying for me since I never got to help you with any of this during uni. Cause let me tell you, if I had been involved, you two definitely would've been living happily ever after." 

Jessie breathed in exasperation. "Please. Give me my phone back." 

"Okay, okay. Here," Janine said, all humour from her tone gone as she now offered Jessie a sincere smile. "Read it over, but I think this is good." 

Jessie gave her a lingering stare as she took back her phone and let out another withering sigh before reading.  

"Funny you should ask. I was thinking about how much I missed art classes together. How about I take you to one of the drop-in painting classes across town when I'm back from Houston?"  

Jessie lifted her gaze to meet Janine's and she studied the blonde for a few moments before relenting with an inaudible sigh. It was better than her original "I don't know. Paint class?" reply. She hit send and released another heavy breath as she tucked the phone away once more.  

"You're welcome," Janine said with a saccharine smile. Jessie gave her a fake smile in return, pulling a laugh out of the girl. "Hey, let's remember which one of us is engaged and which one of us is perpetually single." 

"Ouch," Jessie said with a light laugh.  

"I'm just teasing," Janine went on. "I genuinely hope this turns into something for you. Considering you've only come back into each other's lives, what, like a couple months ago? You two seem pretty solid already. And you seem happier." 

Jessie wanted to give a dry retort of some kind, but Janine was right. You two talked every day now and the chemistry you had in university was still very much present. And the depth you once had in your friendship was something that was quite easily and naturally being broached again. Even if you'd both grown and changed, the cores of who you were still aligned well and fit together. Too well. 

She'd more or less dismissed the spark of emotions that came up during your initial interactions as some sort of emotional muscle memory, but the feelings were proving to not be fleeting or diminishing.  

If anything, her feelings for you were growing. And this time they felt different, too. Heavier, deeper in some way. She was a more realized person now, as were you, and it made the connection between you more substantial. Less juvenile.  

Her phone buzzed. She opened her lock screen.  

"That sounds like a lot of fun! Let's do it." 

————

By the time your paint date night came around, Jessie was nearly buzzing with anticipation. It wasn’t an official date, of course, but she hadn’t seen you since that night after the game, and truthfully, it felt like it had been too long.

She was early - as usual - but as she rounded the corner to the building, she bit back a smile upon seeing you waiting. You were always early too, which she appreciated.

“Hey.” Jessie greeted as she approached. Again, she had to tamp her smile when you beamed back at her.

“Hey, good to see you,” you said as you stepped in for a hug, which Jessie reciprocated. “I love your shirt,” you continued when you stepped back.

“Oh,” Jessie said with a slight frown and a mild laugh as she looked down at herself in question. “Thanks,” she said as she gave a shrug and fought off a blush. She looked you up and down, not entirely discretely. “I like your outfit.”

You rolled your eyes affectionately and gave her a look. “You don’t need to reciprocate my compliment. But thank you.”

“I legitimately like your outfit,” Jessie retorted, her pitch rising and pulling a laugh out of you as you both walked towards the building. Jessie took a few quick steps and grabbed the door, holding it open. “After you.”

“Such service. Thank you,” you said, both teasing and appreciative. Jessie didn’t wink, but she did give a teasing lift of her eyebrows as you passed.

As the instructor gave their directions for the lesson, Jessie found herself distracted, glancing at you out of the corner of her eye. The whole lesson carried on like that, really. Jessie had to make a point to not fall behind as she’d uncharacteristically lose concentration. The worst, well, best, moments being when she'd lean over feigning critical assessment of your work when really she just wanted to be close.

By the end, she was decently satisfied with the forest landscape she’d painted. However, she felt it paled in comparison to the ocean sunset you’d crafted.

“I love your colours. And the little cabin you added is great,” you told her as you were both leaving, canvases in hand.

“Well good,” she said as she got to a clearing on the sidewalk and stopped to turn to you. “Consider it my gift to you,” she went on as she held it out to you.

“Jessie,” you said sweetly with a smile as you took it and looked it over more thoroughly. “That’s really sweet. Thank you. It’s beautiful. And bonus - I get my Jessie Fleming signature, but on a far rarer painting as opposed to a jersey,” you laughed. “And what a coincidence. I painted this for you.”

Jessie looked at you for a moment before a smile broke out across her face as she belatedly took the painting you held out.

“Thank you,” she said softly as she studied the image. She frowned in realization as she lifted her eyes to you. “Is this the same beach from our photo?”

You nodded. “It is. Nice eye.”

“Who knew you were so sentimental?” Jessie teased.

“Apparently not you,” you replied with a roll of your eyes, but gave a small laugh. “Come on. It’s been a while, but you know me better than that.”

Jessie was quiet for a moment as she took you in. She eventually nodded. “I know.”

A small lull fell over you both before you asked. “So, what now? Do you have to leave?”

“No.” Jessie spoke quickly with a shake of her head. “I don’t have anywhere to be. How about you?”

You shook your head in return. “Same. Well, it’s beautiful out tonight. Want to just go for a walk? We can drop these off at my car first,” you proposed as you held up the painting.

“Sure. Sounds great.”

After a short detour, you both began your stroll along the quiet, tree-lined street.

“Thanks for suggesting that class,” you said. “I don’t really get to paint or pursue creative hobbies as much anymore. It was nice to make a point of it. I can’t imagine you have much of an opportunity to focus on things like that anymore, hm?”

Jessie sighed quietly in contemplation and gave a shrug.

“Not extensively, no. But we do lots of team building, so sometimes we’ll do artsy things. And I can do hobbies and such in my down time, whether during the week or between seasons.”

She looked over to see you giving her a soft smile.

“What?” She asked.

“Nothing really. Just kind of crazy how everything turned out. You’ve achieved so much and your life is so impressive.”

Jessie was about to interject with a compliment for you, but you carried on.

“Are you happy with how things turned out?” You asked with a slight cock of your head.

“I-um, yeah.” Jessie stammered slightly, caught off guard by your question. “I mean, yeah it’s been incredible. More amazing than I could’ve ever pictured. And I know I’m very lucky.”

“You’re not lucky, Jess. You’ve worked exceptionally hard.”

She huffed lightly. “Yes, but luck is involved too. Lots of people work hard and still don’t get half the opportunities I’ve had.”

“I suppose,” you relented. “But you’ve made the most of those opportunities and haven’t taken them for granted.”

“That’s true. But look at you. You’ve worked so hard. And I know what you’ve been up against, but you’ve risen above and built a great life for yourself,” Jessie emphasized.

“Thank you,” you accepted with a half smile. Jessie knew the ins and outs of your family dynamics - something few people truly knew. You smiled more fully at her. “And look at us now. We both left LA and then found ourselves in the same city again and got to reconnect,” you finished with a laugh. "It sounds strange, but it really feels like in some ways like no time has passed. Not really, anyway. Like you and I were able to pick up where we left off."

You let out a quick sigh, giving a deep shrug as you did so. Your eyes remained trained on the ground as you two walked. "I mean, we talked the other week about my family and it just felt so different. Like, I've told recent friends or girlfriends my history and everything, and they listen and they 'get it', but it's not the same. That conversation with you – via text, no less – had more depth and weight than any comparable conversation with my exes or current friends. You were there. You know it – and me, I guess - inside and out. And even if I retell things, it's just not the same." 

Jessie nodded, watching you. It did feel like yesterday when she was sitting next to you on your bed, sobs wracking your body after one confrontation too many with your family. Normally, Jessie was so analytical and tentative about her physical contact with you, but the second you started crying she put her arms around you without hesitation and you leaned in, resting your head on your shoulder as she held you. That was the first time, but it wasn't the last.  

Looking back on it, maybe your girlfriends did have good reason to dislike her. 

"I know what you mean," she told you. "It's different. I mean, it's the same with you in a lot of ways. You were there for me during some critical points – big decisions in my life and you understood who I was and who I wanted to be." 

You smiled at her fondly. You looked ready to say something and Jessie waited. A moment passed and you exhaled, saying, "It really meant a lot – having you in my life and the support you gave me back then. I hope you know that." 

"I know," Jessie accepted with a smile of her own. "And likewise." 

Her mind drifted. She should probably just leave things be, but not speaking her mind is what held her back all those years before. She needed to share her thoughts and feelings if things were going to be different this time. She took a breath.  

"You know, I was really shocked when we saw each other here." She paused briefly. "I don't know. We hadn't talked in so long. I think I'd relegated myself to assuming we'd never see each other or ever talk again. Despite how important we were to one another at some point." 

Her statement seemed to give you pause, the mild surprise evident on your face. You eventually glanced down at the street as you two continued to walk. 

"Yeah. That's true, I guess," you conceded, your voice soft. 

Jessie studied you, unsatisfied with the response you gave. She pushed.  

"I knew we wouldn't be able to stay as close as we were. That was inevitable with us living so far away from one another, but I don't think I expected contact to fall apart as quickly as it did." You didn't reply right away and she went on with an ironic laugh. "We went from talking all day every day, to a few times a week with a video call scattered in there, to the odd message every couple of weeks, then just texts on birthdays and at Christmas, to nothing at all." 

She wasn't sure what she was anticipating, but she didn't expect you to turn to her with a perplexed frown.  

"Yeah. It did taper off pretty quickly."  

Despite the time that'd passed, Jessie still knew when you were telling half-truths. She gave a bit of an empty chuckle. "What else are you thinking?" 

You returned her laugh with a mild look. "I don’t know. I'm just kind of confused, I suppose." Jessie frowned.  

"About what?" She questioned. Faint alarm bells went off in her head when you stopped walking. She stilled her movements as well and you turned to one another on the sidewalk.  

You took a moment to gather your thoughts. You spoke with a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. 

"I know it was me who stopped replying right away to messages – I don't deny that – but you weren't exactly giving me a lot to work with." You took a breath, dropping your shoulders before you spoke further. "Honestly? It was kind of feeling one-sided. Yeah, you replied, but a lot of your replies were brief and noncommittal. And when I asked if everything was okay you just told me you were busy. Which," you let out a slightly rueful laugh, "is absolutely fair. You were building this brand new, big life. Which is exactly what you were supposed to do. I don't begrudge you at all. I don’t know." You shrugged and averted your gaze momentarily. "I guess things just started to feel off." 

Jessie exhaled quietly as she processed your reply. What you were saying wasn't false. It had been so long it was easy for Jessie to just recall the end result – that you'd stopped replying altogether. That you'd given up on her; on the connection you'd both built for years. 

Standing here now though, if she was honest with herself, it was true that Jessie grew distant in her messages - purposefully so - knowing it would drive you away. What was she supposed to do? You two were never going to be together. And being friends was so incredibly hard sometimes because it was never just friendship for her. There was always this bittersweet feeling to everything and now that you were on completely different paths, there was an inevitable conclusion. Yet, she struggled to cut herself off cold. So instead, she took the coward's way out.  

Jessie scratched the back of her head. "I was busy," she repeated. She contemplated doubling down, but thought better of it. "And I guess I was finding it hard. We were building two very different lives." 

There was so much more she wanted to say, but she couldn't. What would be the point? Her chest panged when you gave her a sad smile.  

"I know," you accepted with a sadness in your eyes. "And I really wanted that for you. I just - it was hard to not feel like a nuisance. Like some obligation. So I just stopped writing."

Jessie's frown deepened. She knew all those years ago that she had to be hurting you, but she could lie to herself about it and focus selfishly on herself. Seeing you talk about it in front of her wasn't something she'd anticipated.

"I didn't mean for that," Jessie said. "And I never stopped caring about you," she compromised. 

"Yeah. I never stopped caring about you, either," you reciprocated in a subdued manner. Despite her role in everything, Jessie was still harbouring hurt from all those years prior and she felt compelled to push on. Sure, she'd pushed you away, but you'd let her. She erased you from her life little by little, day by day and you allowed it.

"Funny how quickly things change sometimes," Jessie went on. She didn't mean to scoff, but she did. "You didn't even tell me when you and [y/ex] broke up. You didn't even tell me you were having problems."  

In years past, Jessie was your sounding board for all your girl troubles. She remembered it well – it was painful. Having to hear you either swoon or – more often – complain about your girlfriends. Hearing how they disappointed or frustrated you when Jessie knew she could love you better. Just thinking back to it stoked a fire in Jessie's chest again. While she had genuinely loved you and cared about your well-being, she'd vowed to never get stuck in that dynamic again.  

You cracked a smirk. "It just seemed frivolous to bother you with something like that at that point." 

Another pang in Jessie's chest. "Well," she kicked idly at the concrete beneath her, "I would've been there for you if you ever needed me. I hope you knew that." 

You sighed and gave a hollow laugh as you pushed your hair back, causing Jessie to get momentarily distracted by the way the rays from the street light hit your face.  

"I know," you said quietly before meeting her gaze. "And I hope you knew the same about me. I know you're surrounded by people who love you, but," you shrugged listlessly, "I'd be there for you, too." 

Before Jessie could respond you gave her another smirk. 

"Besides. Though you never said anything explicit, I know you didn't like her. And by the end I could see why, too. No point wasting any of our limited conversation talking about her." 

Jessie bit back a smirk, but knew her eyes betrayed her. "Well, I guess that's poetic. Your girlfriends never liked me and I never liked them." 

Despite the mounting tension in your conversation, you laughed and gave her a nod. Jessie didn't return your laugh though. She gave you a solemn look. 

"You always deserved better than them. I know some of them were just fine, some of them even good, but they didn't seem earnest enough and they didn't love you enough." 

You were taken aback by her sudden proclamation. You opened your mouth to speak, but couldn't find the words.  

Jessie never understood how they didn't worship the ground you walked on. She practically did, even if she didn't show it. While those girls showed they cared through superficial acts like a generic bouquet of flowers, Jessie listened. In many ways. It was obvious to Jessie that they didn't really get you – not the way she did. And if they were so in tune with you, then why was it her you came to when things were hard or you were scared or even hopeful. If she'd been your girlfriend, she would've given you everything you needed and more. They clearly didn't. 

You eventually gave a soft huff and offered Jessie a quiet smile. 

"You've always been very observant. And very thoughtful. I get it now. There's a reason I'm single now. I don't want to settle anymore," you told her. 

Jessie was quiet before giving a nod of acceptance.  

"I'm glad to hear that." 

You both started walking again, though neither of you spoke right away. There was still a heaviness in the air, but it felt different now; hopeful.  

"I'm sorry for how things ended," you said as she glanced over at Jessie as you two strolled through the quiet street. "You've always been really important to me – regardless of whether we were in contact or not. I don't want to say that I wish things had been different, because I really don't see the point in regretting anything, but I will say I'm very grateful that we've had this chance to reconnect and rebuild." You paused. "I've really missed you. I didn't realize how much." 

"I'm really sorry, too," Jessie said, a smile spreading across her face. "And I agree – we can't change the past, but I also appreciate the chance to be friends again. I've missed you, too." 

She swallowed as she contemplated whether to add more. The lull that naturally formed told her to forge ahead.

"And you were never a nuisance or an obligation. I'm really sorry it came across that way."

"Awww, Jessie," you said in a teasing voice, lifting your conversation up again. You paused your steps and Jessie stopped and turned to you in question. "Come on," you beckoned as you waved her over and brought out your phone. "We need a new photo together." 

Jessie didn't fight it. Instead, she smiled at you and walked over to stand next to you. You leaned into her and Jessie found her hand naturally gravitated to your waist. It rest there before Jessie could even realize it, but before she could fret, you looked back at her with a smile before facing forward again. 

You took the photo and immediately opened up your messages with Jessie to send it to her. Jessie belatedly realized her hand was still on you and she pulled it back, holding her hands behind her. 

"There," you announced. "Now we can start rebuilding our collection. Portland memories – not just UCLA anymore." 

Jessie laughed and held up her phone, pointing the camera at you. 

"No, come on," you whined immediately and she laughed further.  

"Hey, this is part of the deal," she countered. You huffed, but eventually smiled for her. "Just remember. This goes both ways. I get new photos of you, too." 

She found herself giving you a wink. "I'll allow it."  

A/N: Part Four is available here.

[jungxk]

just one (viii)

summary: the only guy on campus who’s track record trumped that of your best friend’s - park jimin - was jeon jungkook. not that that was a problem…until he set his sights on you.

notes: first of all i wanna thank the people who supported me and encouraged me through one of the worst writers blocks of my life. all the messages and comments are the reason why i finally managed to post this. special thanks to @whippedforkook for helping me with the monstrous tagging process as well as giving me so much praise. and also @lonelyending for cheering me on for a literal YEAR bc thats how long i cried over this fic! this story is so special to me. we’re in the home stretch now x

warnings: mentions of illegal drug use and distribution, swearing, brief smut.

genre: drama, romance, humour, college!au

wordcount: 8k

tagging: @cutechim @benz-biarritz @gyukult @bangulin @eatersanonymous @alyssa1926 @skivv1es @a-sucker-for-them-sappy-shit @moonights @jeymuffins @juuneaux @catsukiii @andreaisaac @whatheydontunderstand @sreveles @noruls619 @henryharios @just-a-fuxked-up-kid @befriendswithj @btsbesharam @poemsandpunani @taelha @misosoup-forthesoul @jikooksmut @heart-eyedmf @the-piano-woman @angrysunshine @chaoticpaperfanhoagie @jsungshine @ci-yen @faby-montana @shinypeanutsportshero @jooniestrivia @alucards-s @cynamyngirl @jiminie-angel @myskoova @jkshoneybuns @smokintae @remmykinsff @majinbuwu @jangx2manboongx2 @potatodogs @seul-queen @alpharyth @blenxxxg @plsky @th-singularity @bapbaptothetop @hermiones-enchantment @stomachfilledwithbutterflies @euphorora @supachloe94 @jiminxjimout @ggukkieland @just-another-fic-recs-blog @jalexad​

part i // part ii // part iii // part iv // part v // part vi // part vii // part viii // part ix // part x

x

4 years ago

x

jimin hated yugyeom.

well, maybe hate was a strong word. he just didn't like talking to him, being around him, hearing his name or interacting with him on any level, social or otherwise. he really tried though, since he was one of jungkook's closest friends and still respectfully referred to him as hyung above all else. and if anything, jimin would always have a soft spot for jungkook, the kid he used to coddle when his own brother wasn't around. but having said that, there wasn't really much basis for not liking yugyeom. it was just a gut feeling jimin couldn't explain, a very subtle callousness about him only jimin could pick up on. for the most part he was just like very other mild mannered boy by day and party animal by night, but jimin still ducks when he sees him enter the library.

"fuck," he hisses under his breath, scooping up his laptop to stride behind a book shelf for good measure. because sometimes, contrary to popular belief, jimin wanted to be alone. he didn't want to make small talk or listen to someone tell him about how well they scored on their last paper or complain about their annoying girlfriend. sometimes jimin wanted to have no thoughts and listen to fleetwood mac as per his human rights. which is why he shoves into the first private study room he sees.

and not an empty one at that. there's a girl inside, sitting cross-legged in her chair at a desk with an array of dried up paint tubes and brushes surrounding open sketchbooks. you don't look annoyed or even that phased, just amused as you give him a once over before going back to painting. "on the run from solji?"

jimin blinks, back still pressed against the door. "huh?" he regards you properly. "i'm sorry, have we met before?"

"not really," you admit with a sheepish smile, which is when jimin suddenly realises that you're...attractive. "solji is in my stats class. you hooked up with her last week at some party and she told me about it."

"oh," jimin takes in your plethora of art supplies. "you don't look like a stem student."

there's a glimmer of something in your eyes, and though you hide it well jimin knows he's struck a nerve. "yeah, i get that a lot."

"it's not solji by the way," jimin clarifies. for some reason. "that i'm hiding from. just a bellend i don't have the energy for right now."

you smile. "it's fine. you don't owe me your life story."

"i do when i'm about to impose on your...study time," jimin peers through the window in the door, wincing when yugyeom enters the hallway. "what would it take for you to let me stay in here for a while?"

you pause for a second. "honestly? just be quiet and leave me alone. is that okay?"

jimin perks up, a weight leaving his chest. "perfect, actually."

x

x

x

[jungkook 11:42pm]: why does it say wings on it

[jungkook 11:42pm] where is it flying

[you: 11:43pm] ffs kook

[you: 11:44pm] im still on the toilet can u just hurry up

[you 11:44pm] grab some tampons too pls

[jungkook 11:46pm] fine what size pussy do u wear

[you 11:46pm] i hate u

[jungkook 11:53pm] ???? ? ? well? ????

[you 11:54pm] REGULAR 

jungkook giggles at his phone, already having left the women's sanitary aisle to grab some chocolate. months later and teasing you was still bundles of fun. he knew for a fact that you were sat there with that angry pout on your face, nose crinkled. he had never bought anything like this before, but jungkook had enough brain cells to know that chocolate was another necessity for that time of the month. after grabbing a large hazelnut bar, he pauses beside the oreos before grabbing a packet of those too. just for good measure. he strides to the self checkout - because even he wasn't man enough for the cashier yet - nearly dropping his array of sanitary products and confectionary when somebody calls out his name from behind the queue.

"kook!" the voice is unmistakably yugyeom's, confirmed by the hand that clamps jungkook over the shoulder and swivels him round before he could think about hiding his socially compromising shopping items. it takes a second for yugyeom to notice, doing a double take at the pads atop his small tower of goods. he holds back a laugh, balancing a bottle of gin in one hand while he waves back at some friends to continue. they were clearly making their pit stop before a night out, probably pre's if they still start as late as jungkook remembers. with his hair styled and expensive cologne lingering, jungkook almost forgets he probably looks unrecognisable in his sweats and cotton-fresh hoodie. friday nights weren't for cuddling. still, yugyeom's smile is welcoming and familiar. "got the munchies? and maybe also a uterus?"

"shut up," jungkook grumbles, averting his eyes. he shifts to his other foot uncomfortably. "my friend just needed a favour, that's all."

"uh huh," yugyeom gives him a teasing look. "is this friend the reason why i barely saw you at jin's the other week?"

jungkook blinks back at him. "wait, you were at that party? i had no idea!" a boyish smile breaks over his face. "why didn't you call me? i haven't seen you since-"

"minseok-hyung's new years eve party," yugyeom throws his head back with a laugh. "remember how we ended up on a boat after the ball dropped and-"

"spent all of new years day detained by the coast guard!" jungkook finishes with a mischievous cackle of his own, nearly dropping the tampons in the process. "fuck, that was so much fun! we need to meet up again, i haven't been out with the guys in so long."

"well no wonder," he quips a brow at jungkook's shopping again. "word got out you're a family man but i didn't believe it. until now, that is."

jungkook's smile falls. "what do you mean?"

yugyeom looks at him for a second, confused by jungkook's surprise. yugyeom was never quite as diplomatic as namjoon or yoongi, to put it lightly. and definitely nowhere near as accomodating as jimin. which is why his next words make jungkook's back stiffen. "bro, look at yourself. you got dairy milk in one hand and tampax in the other. on a friday night. the next time i see you i wouldn't be shocked if you had a baby buggy and a mortgage." still, yugyeom throws him an apologetic look. like a mouse caught in a trap. "face it, kook. you're old news."

"what? that's not true," his brows furrow unhappily. "i don't know what you're talking about. it's not like she's my..."

he can't say the word, but it hangs between them like a dead weight.

"yeah, right," the condescending look on yugyeom's face was starting to agitate him. "you totally blanked us at jin's after she showed up. not even just jin's..." he thinks twice about holding his tongue, but as always, decides against it. "i don't know you, jungkook. whoever this new jungkook is. it's been months. you used to hit us up and be independent and spontaneous and wild and now you're just...someone's boyfriend.

"stop fucking saying that," jungkook snaps, all visible signs of friendliness gone.

"why?" a beat. "do you even use a wrap with her anymore?"

jungkook splutters, heat rushing to his ears and hands in a stinging combination of anger and embarrassment. "how is that any of your business? the fuck are you asking me something like that, as if you-"

"thought so," yugyeom looks away from him with a sigh. if anything, yugyeom knew never to overstay his welcome but that clearly backfired tonight. "whatever, jungkook," he looks over his shoulder at him. "guess you're the last one to find out you're officially married."

"you're ridiculous," jungkook scoffs. "all this over condoms? grow up, yugyeom."

"only couples do it raw," yugyeom turns away from him, alcohol in tow as he waves a hand over his shoulder to join his friends like jungkook was nothing but a lost cause. "you would remember that if you still had game."

jungkook stands there, dumbfounded while the group of boys exit the store noisily but he can't hear a thing. the siren that had been itching the back of his mind all this time was suddenly there at full force, right between his eyes. the glaring truth that yugyeom might be right makes his knees buckle. all those rules jungkook once had, all those measures he kept in place to protect his liberty, to prevent this very occurence - where were they? what happened to them? as the sweet and accommodating counterpart to jimin, why had you never complied? though, the blame wasn't on your hands alone. he got complacent, comfortable. lenient. and now without even realising he was here, a scene from a romcom in the middle of the night, with nothing to say for himself but fuck. the realisations wouldn't stop racing, one after another on the conveyer belt of his anxiety.

the photos on his phone; mostly you. time spent, usually with you. the portfolio for his latest photography module also had some resemblance to your interests. charcoal pencils, night drives, orchids. like the ones you always drew on any scrap of paper lying around. now that he thinks about it, he's seen nothing but your orchids for months. and not just that - you wore his clothes sometimes too. his bathroom had your toothbrush, contraceptive pills and coconut shampoo. his closest friends, his hyungs...not one of them was devoid of affection for you. he wasn't even confident that if the choice was presented, they would still pick him over you.

by the time jungkook finishes paying and practically sprints to his truck in a daze, he can hardly keep himself from shaking. he palms the wheel compulsively, he could feel the sweat in his sideburns, hoodie suddenly suffocating him. it smelled of you.

and then, like a final curtain call: was he just your latest fixer-upper project? some good girl wet dream to play out in the wake of your emotionally traumatic past? a slap in the face to seokjin, maybe, and nothing more? when you were done, when he was out of your system, when you knew his taste by heart and had nothing new left to try - would you stay? did you even know how to?

did he?

jungkook starts the engine. he drives to your door, drops your bag of snacks and pads on the porch, and texts you before leaving. he does not go inside.

x

x

x

"you sure you'll be okay with just the boys?"

you scoff at seulgi when she pins you with a worrying look, taking some of her clothes out of her bag to re-fold them just so you had something to do with your hands. jisoo had already left for the long weekend with her family, so there was no one there to fill up the empty space between your awakward reply. you didn't know how to tell the girls that jungkook hadn't contacted you in nearly a month. and even though he was a notable flight risk from the beginning, you couldn't help but feel like there was hostility there. every now and again he'd at least send a nude or have a quick phone call when he was drunk or high at three in the morning, but you hadn't heard a peep from him. you couldn't stand the idea of someone you cared about harbouring comtempt for you, but the fear of reaching out and somehow making the situation worse outweighed it tenfold. 

you look up to see seulgi still staring at you with concern. "of course i'll be fine! they're boys, not piranhas."

"at least piranhas contribute our ecosystem. boys just cause problems for the hell of it," seulgi lays a hand on the crown of your head like a berating big sister, swivelling you to look at her in your fit of giggles. the urge to nestle you under blankets like a baby bird made her chest heave, and you could tell. "i'm serious. if jimin tries anything, call me immediately okay?"

"jimin?" you snort. "out of a room full of delinquents, my ex, and taehyung, you're worried about jimin of all people?"

seulgi wrinkles her nose. "god, when you say it like that its like i'm throwing you to the dogs." she pauses. "something's up with jimin. i don't know what it is, but he's...off."

you tilt your head innocently, remembering the brief interaction you had with hobi at seokjin's party. you had been so caught up in jungkook - or lack thereof - you hadn't thought to press him about it afterwards. in truth, jimin remained as...jimin as ever. if he was acting differently you certainly couldn't tell. "you think so?"

"mmm," she leans on the lip of the open suitcase thoughtfully. "but maybe with jungkook there, he'll behave himself."

you gulp, fiddling with his watch on your wrist anxiously. "maybe."

x

x

x

you nearly yelp when you feel a big hand swivel around your waist, bucking into the kitchen counter reflexively. jungkook always did this before rubbing his boner against your ass, but the light scent of citrus and short squeeze lets you know immediately that its taehyung. hoseok, jimin, namjoon and yoongi were still in the living room playing video games, giving taehyung the perfect opening to intercept you. namjoon and yoongi had insisted that you come over to their place after finding out you'd be alone for the weekend, and you had completely refused before taehyung's coaxing. and of course, jimin's persuasive nudging. even though you felt safe and relaxed here, it felt wrong to be in jungkook's friends' place without him. almost like a breaching of an unspoken boundary.

and clearly, taehyung picked up on your discomfort by the way he stared at you so softly. his back was to the sink, his sillhouette particularly long and lean this evening. "you need to lighten up, princess. you keep looking over your shoulder so much it's making me nervous!"

your visibly droop with a sigh. "i'm sorry tae. i've had a lot on my mind lately, and..."

he claps his hands on your shoulders, teeth peeking through his grin. "you're not doing anything illegal by being here without jungkook."

you wince at his name. "have you always been able to read my mind like this?"

"absolutely," taehyung's brown eyes look so rich up close. "you're allowed to have friends that are also his friends, because - and try to stick with me on this - relationships between people are allowed to be independant from the primary circles they met in. mind boggling concept, i know."

you wack him on the chest until he laughs. "stop making fun of my anxious thought processes! its called mental illness, sherlock! i can't help it!"

his nose scrunches cutely, enjoying your first fiery outburst of the day. "whatever. i call it not getting laid for a month and losing critical thinking abilities from it."

you gape at him indignantly while taehyung roars with laughter. "you're such a dickhead," you hiss through gritted teeth, yanking his hair and jabbing your fingers in his sides the way you would with jimin during a tickle fight. "whores have feelings too, taehyung! whores have feelings too!"

you both fall about with laughter, knocking over half the snacks on the counter in the process which only makes the pair of you laugh even more. it's such childish chaos trying to clean up the mess on the tiny kitchen floor that neither of you notice the front door open, or the gust of metaphorical and literal wind that follows. watching taehyung trying to salvage a bag of broken crisps is just so funny that the presence of an another voice in the living room goes unregistered, as do the footsteps leading up the hallway to the kitchen, so you have no time to brace yourself or properly pull yourself together with you see-

"...jungkook."

yours and taehyung's heads snap to the doorway. jungkook stands there with almost complete lack of emotion on his face to the pair of you kneeling in crumbs and napkins. there's a brief pause where the tension in your eye contact alone was so strong that it felt wrong to breathe. but it is shortlived. jungkook tiptoes over you like spilled milk, reaching for a glass of water. you and taehyung lock eyes while the tap runs in the awkward silence. "hey. you okay?"

"um," you're not sure whether to stand up, hug him, look at him, or even face him. "yeah! yeah, i'm fine."

he nods politely. "hyung?"

even taehyung looks visibly uncomfortable. "i'm good."

"cool. see you later," he says, downing the glass impressively fast before leaving the room just as fast as he entered it.

you and taehyung stare at each other again, not understanding why you both feel like kids caught eating cake before dinner. you could feel the sweat pricking at your back from the realisation. jungkook had no idea you'd be here, and given that interaction he'd probably want to leave now. there was always the inkling woven between his radio silence that he was done with you, but you never let yourself take it seriously out of logic. because how could months of passion and tenderness and honesty be undone so irrevocably like that? it didn't make sense. you hadn't changed. you were the same girl he hit on relentlessly and chased against all odds. so what was different now?

"____," taehyung calls your name gently, and it's only then you realise you're already up and trailing after jungkook into the living room. when you walk in he's already putting his shoes on to leave again, barely making eye contact with you while he chats absently to his hyungs so he can look busy. the four boys on the large sofa can only reply wearily, eyes darting between the pair of you like a firework was about to blow to soon. and it was.

you could feel it in your throat, under your breast bone, bubbling up your stomach. "wait, jungkook. um...h-how have you been? i haven't heard from you in-"

"i've been good," he keeps tying and re-tying his laces without looking up. "super busy. you know how it is."

his curtness makes you flinch. this same time last month jungkook used to kiss you senseless before he had both feet in the door. he'd ring the doorbell incessantly like a child and greet you with the biggest, toothiest grin you had ever seen. he'd make fun of your bed head and squeeze your cheeks until you'd snap at him. and now when he looked at you he hated every second of it. your mother had the same look. your eyes start to burn involuntarily. "yeah, i do. how is uni? your final project is due soon, right? what theme did you pick in the end?"

"the one i told you about," he stands up abruptly. "sorry, noona. something came up. i'll see you arou-"

"something came up?" you step closer to him. "something came up the second you saw my face? or did you really just trek all the way to your hyungs' place for a glass of water, jungkook?"

jungkook stiffens, but is determined not to lose face. and it's difficult to do under your big, accusatory eyes and jimin's death stare at his back. the whole room was waiting for his response, so he just shoves his hands in his pockets resolutely. "i needed to see yoongi hyung, but i can come another time."

you fold your arms. "well it's clearly important, and you're here now. so don't let me stop you."

"but you will stop me," jungkook snaps. "that's the problem."

"kook-ah," yoongi warns quietly, but he took one look at your face and knew the damage was done. jimin was already standing up, circling around the back of the sofa towards you. the red lights were all there; your watery eyes, your trembling hands. every breath you took looked difficult for you to complete and only jimin noticed.

"what are you talking about?" you squint. it takes you a second to understand; yoongi's guilty expression, jungkook's indifference. "oh, you're fucking kidding me." your resolve breaks for a second turning away only to glare back at jungkook with so much fire you can hardly stand it. "you're selling again? are you insane, jungkook?"

"see," jungkook's eyes are stony. "i knew you'd get this way."

"what other way am i supposed to get?" his lack of response only infuriates you more. it felt disrespectful. "jungkook, you're not a kid anymore. if you get caught with drugs the consequences are serious! forget the potential jail time, you could get kicked out of university, it would go on your record forever and-"

"stop talking to me like i'm a kid!"

"then stop acting like one!" you hate raising your voice, but it keeps climbing without your approval. "did you think about this for even five minutes? this isn't like just going to juvie like before and being done with it jungkook. your hyungs can't bail you out of everything."

"this is a lot of talk for someone who lapped up those fancy paints without a second thought," jungkook says darkly. his eyes aren't like you remember, his face solemn and near unrecognisable. "or did you think that getting that kind of money overnight is only something that's possible through daddy's credit card?"

dread blooms like a garden inside you. "that's...that's how you bought the paint set?"

"welcome to the real world," he quips. "as if selling overpriced weed to a bunch of pick-me-freshmans is considered a crime against humanity to anyone but you."

"you think that's why i'm yelling at you right now?" your voice was growing hoarse, desperate. "you think that's the problem i have with you being literal drug dealer, jungkook?"

he hates it. the sweltering silence, the judgmental eyes digging into his back, the slow realisation that the tears in your eyes were not at him but for him. jungkook's ears ring enough to make him sway on the spot if his feet weren't planted so firmly on the dingy carpet, this metaphorical ground. he couldn't shake the feeling that his lifestyle was only an issue now because of you, how he never felt a shred of guilt about any of this shit until he met you. and if there was anything that jungkook never responded well to, it was pity. and he could feel it from every person in the room, all people that that once cherished and coddled him until you came along. he swallows, throat dry from the way he couldn't look at you knowing what he was going to say next.

"you're embarrassing yourself, noona. you're not my girlfriend and you never were, so stop acting like it."

cotton. it's very faint, under the layers of conflicting cologne and beer and smoke, but jungkook still smelled of cotton while he spat acid. nobody could speak, even though jungkook never raised his voice let alone a hand to you, it still hit like a slap in the face. it sunk into the walls, your clothes, suddenly every hair on your body felt heavy with it. dirty. the shame came first, the humiliation next. and then the sorrow, the dread, and finally the defeat. you knew the stages well by now, and they were cycling through you like clockwork. how foolish you were, to make the same mistake again. nobody dared to move, everyone but jungkook staring at you in denial and horror. they couldn't believe their eyes when you nod steadily, bowing your head to the floor.

jimin is already slotting himself between you, his jaw tight. "that's enough, kook. just leave already."

"no," you stop him, unnervingly resigned. that single word cuts through all six men with ease. "he's right." you step around jimin, closing the space between you and jungkook. for a brief moment he wonders if you'll actually hit him, but somehow watching you unclasp his watch from your wrist and drop it on the coffee table in front of him is far worse. the sound seems to ring like church bells, definitive and umistakable. "you're right, i'm not your girlfriend. you win jungkook."

they all watch you leave in dismay, listen to the door closing softly behind you. within a second jimin sprints after you, calling your name, leaving everyone else dumbfounded. jungkook's stare could bore a hole into the abandoned watch on the table, still ticking away like nothing changed. like his eyes weren't burning, lightheaded at the realisation that he would never wear a watch again let alone the one he put on you.

x

x

x

to an outsider, you looked like you were coping well considering you just got dumped in front of all your friends. but jimin knew that face. your stony eyes, lips pulled thin as if to seal inside the collapse of a monument. you took the tea he offered, and then his arms, your face finding his chest with ease. muscle memory. his torso was a tad shorter than jungkook's, his heart closer to your mouth as if the steady thumps were asking for a kiss of acknowledgement. every time you close your eyes you could see jungkooks face, hard and unforgiving and nothing like the man you trusted all this time. but it wasn't a new expression; you parents looked at you similarly the last time you saw them. it was the look of someone who had no regrets cutting all ties. and now, jungkook was behind them in a lost list of people who chose to be strangers over loving you.

jimin sighs when you cry into his chest, brushing the back of your head gently. he had been ready for this for months, but he still hated to see you this way. again. it made his bones itch, his skin crawl uncomfortably every time you weeped. the only time he considered violence was when you were crying. but he knew what to do, laying down across the sofa so you could curl up into a ball next him, head on his bicep and face smushed into the crook of his shoulder. you used to cry like this for hours and hours, his arm familiar with the prickle of pins and needles. but it was the only place you felt safe. tucked into jimin's side is where you would always belong, and that truth was more glaringly obvious than ever now.

"lets get something to eat," he offers eventually, hand craddling the crown of your head like a child. jimin's other hand on your hip is warm and heavy when he pats you soothingly. in your episodes, you responded well to touch. "what about thai food?"

"not hungry," you grumble against him.

"we could make something together?" he peers down at your lack of response. "come on, babe. you gotta eat something. you didn't even have breakfast-"

"why am i so stupid?" you whisper, a fresh bout of tears welling up.

jimin rubs your thigh. "it's not your fault."

"yes it is. jungkook gave me plenty of red flags, and i ignored all of them-"

"oh, i meant you being stupid."

you scoff. "cheers."

"what?" jimin cocks a brow when you lift your head to look up at him. he wets his lips and you follow the swipe of his tongue thoughtlessly, distracted enough by his touch and proximity that you take a second to digest his words. "it's not like any of this exactly came as a surprise. you ignored me, remember? wanted to flex your big girl pants."

you pull away from him and sit up, forcibly shutting out the daze that jimin routinely puts you under. "what's wrong with you? can't you be polite and wait for a couple hours before laying into me like a normal person? jesus, jimin."

"so let me get this straight," jimin sits up, watching your back as you sit away from him. "you're mad because i'm not telling you what you want to hear?"

"no," you say, head shaking. "i'm not mad. i'm upset because i came here to be comforted by my friend and you're just making me feel worse."

"what do you want me to say, ____? that i had high hopes from the start?" jimin pushes his hair back, brows now at a sharp incline from frustration. "i told you starting something with jungkook was trouble but you didn't listen. why should i feed your victim complex when all i've done is try to help you?"

"victim complex?" you repeat, standing up slowly. the sudden steadiness of your voice causes jimin to panic.

"not like that. don't take it like that, it's just," he's suddenly before you, his warm hands palming up your arms warmly. "i didn't wanna see you get like this and it happened anyway, is all i'm saying." he sighs when your scowl doesn't let up. "if hobi hyung hadn't have given up so easy, then maybe…maybe this would never have happened. maybe if i had been harsher with him then you would have-"

"what are you talking about?" you ask quietly, searching jimin's face. "give up so easy? what's that supposed to mean?"

he looks away, hands slipping off you. "it's nothing."

"jimin."

he struggles to look at you, tongue in cheek. his lips purse for a moment, pink like roses. he's wearing that navy jumper you like. "look, it's not a big deal. he wasn't supposed to fuck you or anything, just take you out for a while. get your mind off kookie, show you a nice time."

your blood runs cold. "what?"

jimin's expression softens. "it's not as bad as it sounds-"

"really?" your voice is sharp, sharper than he's ever heard it. you recoil as if you had been struck for the second time today. "because it sounds like you asked some guy to keep me occupied like i'm a fucking dog. all because you can't stand the idea of me being within a meter of jungkook-"

he steps in, but you step back. "you know that's not true, _."

"don't i?" you scoff, covering your face in disbelief. "jimin, you've been hellbent against me even looking at the guy since day fucking one."

"because i didn't want you to get hurt!" jimin counters, eyes downcast. "i know, okay? i know how much of a dick it makes me sound, but its not like it hurt you when you had no idea! hoseok broke it off before you even knew about it so why-"

"because it's worse," you turn away from him. "you tried to control me. choose what's best for me because you think you know better than i do. sound familiar?"

his jaw sets, and it's like you can hear the twine snap in his head, the percussion of his heartbeat above yours even though he doesn't close the space between you. jimin stares at you for a long minute before drawing in a thin breath. "fine," he steps in, and you can't look away. "you want me to say it? fine. i'll say it."

suddenly the air is lace thin around you as you stare at him, waiting. jimin looks off somewhere else, somewhere you can't reach. "don't tell me you haven't thought about it, because i know you have. if i have you must have too. and lately its all i can think about - being with you, holding you, being the one who gets to touch you. and yeah, maybe it took having to see you with jungkook for me to realise how much i want all that, i put my hands up. but you have no idea what's it like to watch the person you love most get toyed around with by a time bomb like that. i've seen jungkook go through girls like underwear and i love him, god i love him, but even the idea of you being one of those wasted girls sitting outside a party crying over his sorry ass makes my fucking ears ring."

"j-jimin…" you whisper, but you have nothing to say. your hands shake.

"you deserve more than that, ____. you deserve more than waiting around for booty calls or living up to what the next guy wants. from jungkook, hoseok, anyone. you deserve someone's devotion and yeah, maybe all this time i've been too much of a pussy to give it. maybe all this time i was tiptoeing around my feelings for you because i knew if i admitted to myself that i loved you - if i admitted i was just like every other guy - i'd actually set the bar for something other than disappointment. id actually have to step up, and i didn't know if i could do it. i still don't. but if it has to be someone…it should be me."

suddenly he's holding your hands, calming the tremble that rattles them. his words bunch up together in your ears, the meaning lost amidst your awe. "jimin….jimin what are you saying? where is all this coming from, i don't...i don't understand wh-"

"i'm saying," he cups your face. "choose me." he pulls you in. so, so close. "choose me, not jungkook. not anyone else. me."

and there's a part of you that has already caved. that's already kissing him, melting into his arms like you've wanted to for so, so long. you're falling back onto the couch with him in a fit of giggles, curling back into his chest to hide your watery eyes, asking him why the fuck he took so long. you chat together between teasing kisses, pour your hearts out, maybe cry a little. later you would make tea and order pad thai and watch the office all night and fall asleep together in the living room well past dawn and then-

you close your eyes. "i can't."

"you can," jimin says, so passionately you shudder. his brown eyes are teaming with too much determination and ardour for his own good, and you both know it. its difficult to grapple with how huge a risk he's taking, because jimin never takes risks. it made the whole situation seem dire. "you know you can, ____. it's us. there's no one like us."

you don't know how you're not crying yet. you only have jimin to hold onto, hands balled in his shirt without knowing if you're about to push him away or pull him in forever. "maybe back then. maybe if you'd have said all this before," you feel empty, the beat of your pulse suddenly strong in your fingertips. "but it doesn't matter anymore."

he shakes his head in denial, his determination palpable. "of course it does-"

"i'm in love with him," you say. to jimin. to yourself. to the world, finally. "i'm in love with jungkook." holding jimin's stare isn't as difficult as you thought it'd be. "you know if you'd have done all this a few months ago…if you'd have just...i was always yours without question, jimin. and you knew it." it's his turn to bristle under the strain of your voice. "jungkook isn't perfect. i'll be the first one to admit that. he's made me cry, he fucks up, he makes mistakes. but he's never lied to me. he never made decisions for me. he never passed judgement on what i should or shouldn't do with my life. something that i never thought i wouldn't able to say about you, too."

there's a brief moment where everything stops. neither of you can believe what you just said. jimin watches you, frozen in his place as you take your bag, eyes glittering with tears when he calls for you. suddenly he's the time bomb he feared becoming, the panic in his eyes lighting them up like fire crackers. for the first time in his life, he stumbles over his words, and then his feet when you reach for the door, all composure lost. he was unravelling like a tapestry in front of you, never to be repaired, and he could feel it. "____. ____, please," jimin chokes, his cheeks blotchy. "i wanted to protect you, i was just trying to help. don't go. please don't go. i was trying to help you."

"no. you were trying to have me." you say, closing the door behind you.

x

x

x

you have no idea what time it is when you hear the bell ring incessantly.

it had been hours since you'd returned home from jimin's, but there was no way for you to keep track when your only priority was just keeping yourself afloat. you turned your phone off, drew the curtains, and resolved to alternate between sitting in seulgi and jisoo's rooms until they came back. you didn't know what else to do. when you weren't crying you were hyperventilating, and when that stopped the absence of emotion was so powerful you could barely keep your eyes open. you were exhausted but could not sleep. starving but could not eat. it was a miracle you even made it down the stairs, using what little strength you had to yank it open without even thinking about who could be on the other side in the middle of the fucking night. but at this point, you would gladly take a serial killer over jimin or jungkook.

"taehyung," you breathe when you take in his face, relieved. you must look like absolute shit because he scans your face and winces. 

"jimin told me," he says, the apology in his voice and expression was almost painful to register. "he told me everything. ____, i'm so sorry. i should have told you about the hoseok thing, i just thought it would be worse coming from me, and then i tried to force jimin into confessing but then he didn't because he's jimin, and now-"

"you're only allowed to come inside if you stop apologising," you say weakly, voice haggered from the hours of crying.

taehyung's pouty expression almost makes you smile with how cute he looks, gingerly stepping over the threshhold. "i really am sorry though."

"for what," you say monotonously, closing the door behind him while he takes off his shoes. "my inexplicably terrible taste in men? my uncanny ability to get manipulated by literally anyone who shows me a scrap of affection? or my absolutey shredded-to-shit attachment style thats barely intact let alone functioning healthily? after hoppping between the first two for a few hours i'd personally go for the latter. but whatever."

"please shut up," taehyung sighs, bringing you into his arms before you could have a second thought about it. "you need to amp up the misandry in this context. a lot of this had nothing to do with you and everything to do jimin and jungkook."

you're too tired to open your eyes, snuggling into the softness of taehyung's chest. you’re too exhausted to argue. "where did you learn the word misandry? have you been reading?"

"yeah," you can hear his big, pleased grin. "i know you and the girls have been calling me a himbo behind my back."

"affectionately," you add, peering up at him. he wipes the wetness off your cheeks, moving upstairs to your room with your hand in his. he fetches you a glass of water before putting you into bed like he's paid to do it. taehyung was the cuddliest person you had ever met, but you had rarely seen him dote on anyone. "girls love himbos. it's a compliment."

"not all girls," he mutters when he returns from the bathroom with a glass of water. "drink this, would you? you look so dry it's making me itchy."

you do as he says with a roll of your eyes. "what do you mean?" you finish your water with a big gulp. "jisoo loves dumb guys, what are you talking about?"

taehyung looks away from you, bottom lip rolling up under his teeth so fast you barely catch it. he pulls up your desk chair next to your bed, thinking long and hard before meeting your eyes again. "i don't mean jisoo."

you don't understand at first, but after staring at his face for a long minute your stomach drops. "don't. don't you fucking dare," another beat of silence. you rip the covers off you to scamble to your knees, grab your pillow and hurl it at taehyung's head. "taehyung, please don't tell me that the one remaining, healthy relationship i have with a man has also been shot to shit because i swear to god i'm gonna-"

"it's not a big deal," he says firmly, and he really does mean it. taehyung catches your wrists when you lunge at him, effectively ending your outburst before it can begin. he keeps hold of them while he stares into your eyes, watching the way they fill up with a fresh bout of tears. "i've had a crush on you for a while, so what? it's not anyone's business but mine so don't worry about it."

you try not to scream at him. "how long?"

"...since the start." he shrugs. "it's not like i could have done anything anyway. with jimin around. he’d never have it."

"but...! but..." you splutter, the highlight reel of your friendship suddenly marred before your eyes. "but you let me talk to you about boys! you gave me advice with hobi and jimin and jungkook and...! you encouraged jimin to confess to me. and the whole thing with jisoo?"

he wets his lips guiltily. "jisoo is a nice girl. i like her, but...not like you. i've always liked you."

you shake your head in horror, your face crumpling. bile rose in your throat. "so all of that...playing with my friend like that. was just to get to me?"

"listen to me," taehyung says firmly, gripping your wrists to make you look at him again. he's so close you can feel the warmth of his breath on yours, and you never realised how large taehyung's torso was compared to yours before. he could have smothered you, but he didn't. in all senses. "the way jimin and jungkook handled their feelings is on them, just like how this is on me. it doesn't matter if i'm fucking you or not, you're my friend and i'll always want people to do right by you. and that includes me."

there was nothing else to say, so taehyung wordlessly wipes your face again and fetches you more water before retreating to sleep on the couch downstairs. all the while you sat there in your bed, confused and bewildered and thoughtful. the same bed jungkook fucked you on. the same bed jimin held you in. out of all the men in your life, taehyung was the only one who treated his feelings for you with reverence. there wasn't one interaction you could think of where he made his feelings clear, where he even hinted towards wanting something more. if he hadn't have said anything tonight, in the wake of one of the most emotionally tumultuous days of your life, you would still be in the dark about it all. and that was the scariest part. you didn't know anyone else who hadn't let their feelings for you effect how they treated you. so ultimately, it was possible.

and jimin and jungkook chose not to do that. but taehyung did.

taehyung did.

when you finally pad downstairs after hours of ruminating, jisoo's bedroom door is wide open. and that's who you should be thinking about now - your friend and sister jisoo - as the sky begins to lighten with the signs of morning. you hadn't slept for over twenty four hours, you were hungry and thirsty, delirious from the whirlwind of losing the two most important men in your life in one day. but still, you are drawn to taehyung. taehyung, who never asked anything of you. taehyung, who was as silent as he was selfless this whole time. taehyung who routinely put what he wanted aside in favour of what was best for you. taehyung, who protected you without needing credit or recognition for it. taehyung, taehyung, taehyung, taehyung, taehyung-

"taehyung," you whisper scraping your nails through his hair. his eyes fluttered open, twisting his head to face you as you hovered above him. he could barely see you in the darkness. "taehyung, wake up."

"what is it?" he croaks, sitting up with half-lidded eyes and a yawn. he doesn't know how to read the expression on your face. he swings his legs off the sofa in a sitting position, wearing nothing but his boxers and tee, visibly alarmed. "what happened? are you okay?"

you take his face in your hands and kiss him. 

taehyung stiffens against you, breath drawn thin. you pull away to gauge his expression, desperately searching his eyes in the darkness. for discomfort, disapproval, anything negative at all. the absolute ardour you find instead could knock you down if taehyung didn't reach for your neck, kissing you again. you whine at the feel of his tongue, having no idea where such sudden and intense arousal was coming from. when you pull away with shaky limbs, you climb onto his thick thighs so he can feel your wetness through his boxers. taehyung grunts at the sensation, and again when you kiss him passionately and without abandon. the sweet girl every guy he knew was agonising over, suddenly in his lap. he's barely had his tongue down your throat for ten minutes and you're already rocking into him, his erection betraying his resolve.

it's better than he dreamed. 

"taehyung," you gasp, palming him now. he groans when he pulls away to look at your mouth, glistening with his saliva when you take his hand and guide it down to your arousal. "please."

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 292: You Say Jeans

Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi was all “well anyway here’s that Touya reveal I foreshadowed like a million years ago, viva la 2020.” Dabi was all “hello world, I’ve killed 30 people and today I’m going to explain to you all why” before he proceeded to explain ABSOLUTELY NOTHING but everyone was so distracted by his tale of child abuse and hero conspiracies that they didn’t much seem to notice. Can’t Ya See-Kun’s Shark Friend was all “IS THIS THE END OF HERO SOCIETY AS WE KNOW IT”, and Horikoshi was all “STAY TUNED”, and then Dabi set himself on fire and leaped off of Machia’s back like the chaotic evil, I-just-bleached-all-my-brain-cells weird little fire man he is, ready to burn everyone to crispy bits before they could even react properly to his whole big revenge speech. Fortunately he did not succeed on account of THE RETURN OF THE JING, THE JOAT, BEST FUCKING JEANIST, back from the dead by popular demand in what critics are calling “the best fucking comeback since Jesus himself.”

Today on BnHA: Best Jeanist snatches up Machia and the rest of the League with his fiber steel cables before you can say “more like BEAST JEANIST amirite.” Dabi gets all worked up and lights Hadou on fire which is a real JERK MOVE, and is all “THIS RIGHT HERE IS ALSO ENDEAVOR’S FAULT”, which, NOT SUPER CONVINCED ON THAT, BUT OKAY. Anyway so then he burns up all the cables holding him which is crazeballs btw, and then he and Shouto start fighting, and so basically the whole thing is a literal hot mess and we’ll see how that goes. Meanwhile Tomura wakes up and summons some Noumus, and poor Jeanist has to deal with those on top of the still-attempting-to-rampage Gigantomachia, and everyone else is all “we can’t help you on account of we’re all half dead”, and so it’s looking really bad. And then -- and I can’t stress enough how much I don’t even have the faintest idea how to segue into this next part -- the chapter ends with Mirio!?! just sort of POPPING UP OUT OF THE GROUND all, “SURPRISE, BITCH”, and it literally was so surprising that I am still just kind of speechless. WELL-PLAYED, I GUESS, lol wtf.

lol okay so the first page in the RHA scan is just the “three musketeers” movie promo image that we all already saw a few days ago. but it does confirm that (a) it is indeed a movie, and (b) that it’s set for a summer 2021 release! how exciting

okay so now back to our special Dabi edition of Making a Murderer

“ray of hope” oh hell yes. SAVE US MR. JEANIST

I guess he had a TV in his private hero jet or something?

gotta say, “dammit Dabi” does not even remotely sound like Authentic Best Jeanist Dialogue to me though. gonna need Caleb to see to this. well but what do you guys think? does Best Jeanist curse?? I personally feel like he’s one of those guys who NEVER EVER swears no matter what, except under the most hilariously trifling circumstances. like he’s eating an avocado one day and he accidentally stains the cuffs of his beloved jostume green and he’s all “FUCK”

btw how fucking rich is Best Jeanist though that he has his own fucking plane? the thought just suddenly occurred to me, you know? like even Endeavor, whose agency has its own on-site luxury apartment suites for all of his interns, still drives around in a dinky little car that Bakugou has declared to be too small. which, I guess we know why he felt that way now, seeing as the guy he previously interned with apparently gets around in Jeans Force One

anyway so back to the part where Jeanist shows up to save the day!! YEAH JEANIST WOOOOO

ILU JEANIST YOU REALLY ARE THE BEST!! HUGS AND KISSES!!!

lmao we just saw Gigantomachia take out like a hundred guys not ten chapters ago. and Best Jeanist shows up and takes him down in like two seconds. HOW DO YOU LIKE THEM APPLES LEAGUE OF VILLAINS. BET YOU’RE WISHING YOU’D TAKEN HIS QUIRK NOW, AFO. GET FUCKED YOU OLD SPUD

KACCHAN IS SO HAPPY TO SEE HIM AWW

SIDE NOTE, IIDA, YOU AND I ARE GONNA HAVE WORDS LATER ABOUT YOU ACTUALLY AGREEING TO PUT HIM BACK DOWN. YOU DO UNDERSTAND THAT THIS CHILD IS STILL DRIPPING BLOOD ALL OVER THE PLACE FROM HIS MULTIPLE STAB WOUNDS, RIGHT? WAY TO ASSERT YOUR AUTHORITY THERE. I THOUGHT YOU WERE THE CLASS PRESIDENT NOT THE CLASS CLOWN, COME ON NOW

LMAO DABI IS FRANTICALLY TRYING TO DO THE PLOT MATH

SHOULDA CHECKED MORE CLOSELY MY GOOD MARK. LOOKS LIKE YOU MISSED THE “MADE IN CHINA” STICKER ON THE BOTTOM. YOU HAVE BEEN BAMBOOZLED. OR ACTUALLY, I GUESS THE MORE ACCURATE WORD HERE IS JAMBOOZLED, AHAHAHAHA. JEANS

HOLY SHIT DABI

I legit almost thought that was Tomura for a second. you two look so alike now with the white hair and the crazy eyes

meanwhile, Shouto is still crying and it’s a lot to take, you guys. lotta feels

ffff come on Jeanist you better do something awesome again here, the mood of the chapter is starting to slip now

YES, GOOD, THAT’LL WORK

WELL YOU TELL ME, SPINNER. I GUESS THAT MEANS BEST JEANIST IS OFFICIALLY THE STRONGEST CHARACTER IN THE SERIES NOW. SORRY I DON’T MAKE THE RULES

ffff now Spinner is trying to wake Tomura back up. nah, how’s about we not do that

OH MY GOD HADOU YESSSS

MY GIRL OUT HERE WITH THE “NO THANK YOU” BOUT TO CURBSTOMP THE BIG BAD WITH HER QUIRK KSFHLKLK WHO HERE HAD “HADOU SAVES THE DAY” ON YOUR WAR ARC BINGO CARDS, YOU LOVE TO SEE IT!!

HEY!!!!

fucking son of a... fffkfkff... someone please reassure me that fire isn’t Hadou’s weakness. someone. anyone. also could someone please dial an ambulance and send them to Horikoshi’s house. but not just yet. first I’m gonna need you to wait about fifteen minutes or so while I take care of some things

well all right then, Dabi. so you wanna go on then and explain to us all how this, too, is somehow Endeavor’s fault?

oh I see, you’ve decided that since he’s responsible for “creating” you, everyone you hurt and kill is in truth really being hurt and killed by him! well now, that sure is convenient as fuck I guess

(ETA: that’s a nice effect with the panel sides getting all warped by Dabi’s quirk though, just noticed that.)

amazing how quickly you used up that sympathy card my guy. Shouto please kick his ass, I’m fucking done lol, you can all sort out the rest in therapy later

CAN SOMEONE PLEASE DIAL BACK DEKU’S EMPATHY STATS JUST A LITTLE BIT, HOLY --

“TODOROKI-KUN IS HURT THE MOST”, HE SAYS, WITH HIS ARM BONES SHATTERED INTO LITTLE TOOTHPICK-SIZED PIECES. I MEAN, HE’S PROBABLY TALKING MORE ABOUT MENTAL ANGUISH GIVEN THE CONTEXT HERE, BUT STILL. THAT’S ENOUGH HEROICS FROM YOU ALREADY FOR ONE DAY

NOOO JEANIST

LOTS OF SMOKE IN THE AIR RIGHT ABOUT NOW AND MY BOY’S STILL DOWN A LUNG. GOD DAMMIT

“if the number one suffers a total loss here, this country will fall to pieces” well okay, real talk though, I think the “country falling to pieces” part is pretty much unavoidable at this juncture. you all are just gonna have to try your best to pick up those pieces after the fact and see what you can do with them. if I were you I’d be less worried about the number one’s reputation and more concerned with the half-dozen child soldier interns who are still on the field and very much at risk of being burned to death should you suffer that “total loss.” please try to keep it together here for them

OH FOR FUCK’S

I really thought RockLockRock was gonna come into play here. USE YOUR QUIRK TO LOCK THE ROPES IN PLACE YOU DIP!! if he seriously just sits there and does nothing when his quirk could be the deciding factor I am cancelling his useless ass cute kid or no cute kid shfkjdls

(ETA: is he even there?? did he and Manual just hightail it out of there?? “well good luck, children.”)

also, we’ll put this aside for now to perhaps speculate about later, but what’s with Tomura remembering his dad’s house yet again in that far right panel?? and being itchy again?? I still have yet to fully work out the psychological mechanisms at work as far as his itchiness goes, so I’ll admit this is intriguing to me. it seemed like it was connected to his decay quirk, but then why is it acting up again now. what is this lol

yuh oh

forgot about these guys. looks like these heroes aren’t having such a fun time

oh fucksticks

excuse me ma’am but I don’t like this. you do know that my kids are all there, right. all burnt and impaled and broken-boned and the like. well except for Iida. he’s fine still. BUT THAT DOESN’T MEAN I FEEL LIKE WATCHING HIM GET TORN APART BY FOUR HIGH ENDS, WTF

HORIKOSHI YOU MOTHERFUCKER I SWEAR TO GOD

god fucking... okay look. Horikoshi. you win, okay!? congratulations, you win, this is your show and we’re all just sitting here at your mercy. fine. go ahead and just kill off everyone ever, then!! what am I even gonna do about it. stop reading?? fuck

this whole thing really went from zero to fucked before I could even blink huh. I really thought this was gonna be a turning point chapter for the heroes. shows what I know I guess??

meanwhile this motherfucker is just SCREAMING

ngl, if I wasn’t currently terrified on account of things suddenly taking such a drastic turn for the worse, this would be the coolest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. Jeanist my man, I hype you up like it’s my job because you are the greatest fucking meme character in the history of time, but make no mistake, you are also highkey WORTH ALL THE HYPE AND THEN SOME

seriously, though. don’t fucking mind him you guys, he’s just standing here in the coolest pose of all time taking on Gigantomachia all alone with one fucking lung because the substance pumping through his veins is COLD-BLOODED LIQUID DENIM, and DENIM FEELS NO FEAR

Best Jeanist really needs to get his own theme song. -- oh my god I just finally thought of a title for this post. lmao and it’s the dumbest thing. omg

MEANWHILE THE TODOROKI BROS ARE OFF IN THEIR OWN DRAMATIC LITTLE FIRE WORLD

which one do you think is the Mario and which is the Luigi. well, but I mean, Dabi clearly thinks that he’s the Luigi though and that’s why he’s so mad. nobody wants to be Luigi. what a life

THAT’S IT, SHOUTO!! POINT OUT ALL OF HIS HYPOCRITICAL BULLSHIT, I WANT ANSWERS

JUST TO CLARIFY, IT’S THAT NATSU, NOT SOME OTHER NATSU!! SO WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF!!

OH, WELL IN THAT CASE

BUT OF COURSE. THAT WOULD MAKE IT ALL WORTHWHILE, holy shit. okay I’m just gonna go ahead and say it, Dabi is a piece of work. I really thought this arc would make him more sympathetic at long last, but it seems like it’s doing just the opposite?? this is like an anti-redemption arc. I don’t relish the thought of venturing into the fandom tags once I finish reading this lol

(ETA: well folks, I’ve done it. and actually it was pretty interesting because there are apparently like ten different things that people are mad about, and so it’s like. each post is a new adventure lmao.)

so Shouto is all “BRUH HAVE YOU COMPLETELY LOST IT” and Dabi is all “YES”, basically? like, he says he’s completely lost his feeling for anything. omg. but you were so sweet. how does that even happen

“finally I can kill you” okay for real what the heck is your damage bro?? can we not. I like Shouto just the way he is, un-killed

oh shit and now the Noumus are here

cue Bakugou diving in to save his mentor, STAB WOUNDS BE DAMNED!! actually it would make more sense for it to be Iida, but if Kacchan is really fixin’ to go full Shounen Dumbass here then he might as well go all out, y’know

-- unless of course, Deku decides to activate another quirk??

“last I checked, the main character of this series was still me” OH? WELL I SUPPOSE THAT IS TRUE, SO PRAY TELL, WHAT HAVE YOU GOT LEFT UP YOUR SLEEVE YOU SUICIDAL BRUSSELS SPROUT

fucking love how he’s all “HAHAHA WITH MY NEW QUIRKS I CAN STILL DO STUPID SHIT EVEN WITH MY ARMS AND LEGS GROUND TO A FINE POWDER” btw. what can I say. Deku gonna Deku

FMMFHDKUHK W H A T

HOLY SHIT. HOLY FUCKING SHIT. WHAT THE WHAT. QUE THE FUCK

(ETA: okay look, all the love in the world to the brave scanlators who take time out of their lives to translate the leaks every week just so we can read the chapter a couple of days early like the addicts we are. that said, translating Mirio’s signature “POWER!!” -- which was already written in English in the original scan -- to “POG-CHAMP” is just a whole new level of wtfuckery from them lmao. is the Lida person back at it again?? amazing.)

MIRIO!?!?! SHOWS UP TO SAVE THE DAY?!?! POGS HIMSELF UP OUT THE GROUND TO BEAT THE NOUMUS LIKE IT AIN’T NO THING. JUST LIKE WE ALL PREDICTED!? I’M SORRY, DID YOU NOT SEE THAT COMING?? YOU MEAN TO TELL ME YOUR DAILY HOROSCOPE FROM ASTROLOGY DOT COM DIDN’T HAVE THAT ONE IN THE CARDS?? WAS IT NOT OBVIOUS?? TODOROKIS PLUS BEST JEANIST EQUALS MIRIO??

hot damn. Tintin really saw the writing on the wall with the impending Dabi Discourse and was all “NOT SO FAST” lmao. “HERE’S A BRAND NEW THING FOR YOU ALL TO DISCOURSE ABOUT” MIRIO YOU WILD CHILD. YOU GLORIOUS THUG

MEANWHILE LET’S NOT FORGET WHAT MIRIO HAVING HIS POWERS BACK ACTUALLY IMPLIES. HOLY SHIT. SUDDENLY WE CUT BACK TO ALL MIGHT’S OFFICE, ALL THE WAY BACK AT UA. ERI BRANDISHES HER TOKOYAMI-GIFTED BUSTER SWORD, A DETERMINED GLEAM IN HER EYE. “I HEARD YOU WERE TRYING TO HAVE A GIRL POWER ARC WITHOUT ME.” OH. MY. GOD

[twinkle-320]

Look What You Made Me Do

Book:  The Royal Romance 3 (somewhat AU) 

Pairing:  Drake Walker x MC, Liam x MC

Summary:  The unexpected happens while everyone is in Las Vegas for Riley and Liam’s stag and doe party.

Rating: Teen

Warnings:  mild language, hints to sexual activity

Word count:  2062

A/N: I wrote this little one-shot after seeing an AU Prompt list that sparked the idea.  I don’t know if this is something that’s been done before...I don’t recall reading anything like it but then again, my memory is horrible so I’m sorry if this has been done.

Tags: @ladyangel70 @gkittylove99 @lovingchoices14 (if you only want to be tagged in my series posts, please let me know) @choicesficwriterscreations​

Woken by a wave of nausea, Riley rolled onto her back with a groan, stretching the aches and pains from her body.  As the throbbing in her head got stronger, her eyes fluttered open and she was thankful that the curtains had been drawn tight.  One too many of Maxwell’s glittery cocktails the night before, in addition to the whiskeys she consumed at the after-party made her feel like death and there was no way she could tolerate the sun.

Feeling the familiar weight and warmth of her fiancé beside her, Riley sighed softly to herself.  Even with the wedding only a few days away, it still felt surreal and she still wasn’t quite used to sharing the bed.  “You’ll have to get used to it,” she told herself.  In a few days time, she’d have everything she never wanted…a powerful husband, a country to rule, and the weight and expectations of a crown on her head.

As she grappled with her reality in her foggy mind, images of Drake ran through her mind unbidden. Their first real moments of connection in Lythikos.  Finally admitting their feelings after he’d saved her from Tariq.  Forbidden kisses in the Beaumont study and in the courtyard before the Coronation.  It was the night of the Coronation that she had realized she was falling in love with him. Despite that love, she had been prepared to say yes to Liam’s proposal out of fondness for him and obligation to those that said she needed to become Queen.  Everything changed in the blink of an eye though when the scandal broke.

When she returned to court, obligation was no longer enough of a motivation.  She had returned with no intention of pursuing Liam; her only goal was to clear her name.  In the weeks that followed she fell even more for Drake and Liam kept drawing her into his orbit wanting to maintain a secret relationship causing even more confused emotions.

On their final stop of the engagement tour in New York they finally located Tariq and Riley’s name was cleared.  Despite their agreement to talk about them when her name was cleared, Drake had left New York ahead of the rest of the court, leaving only a note saying that they couldn’t be together and that she and Liam deserved each other.  On their final night in the city, Liam took her back to the Statue of Liberty, got down on one knee, and proposed.  Riley had tears in her eyes but they weren’t the tears of joy that Liam assumed them to be.  With her mind screaming “No,” Riley nodded and said “Yes, Liam…I will marry you.”

From there, everything became a whirlwind.  Attacks at the palace and orchards, a Unity Tour, an attempted coup at Lythikos.  Through it all she smiled at Liam’s side as they grew closer, but she still wasn’t in love.  Each day though she made herself promise to find happiness in her upcoming marriage. Even though the threat to their country had yet to be eliminated, Maxwell surprised them with a stag and doe party in Las Vegas.

While they partied the night before, Riley told herself with each drink that she was just celebrating her wedding.  Sitting at the bar with her chin in her palm, drinking her whiskey, and watching Kiara throw herself at Drake, she feigned a smile when Liam joined her.

“Has this evening been everything you hoped for, love?” she recalled him asking.  Afraid her voice would betray her, Riley simply nodded.  “Is there anything else I can do for you to make it perfect, my future queen?”  All she could recall from there was being touched by how loving and kind he was, everything else was a blur.

Standing slowly from the bed, Riley grabbed a blanket to wrap around her naked body and made her way to the mini-bar for some water and ibuprofen.  Groans filled the room and she heard the rustling of blankets coming from behind her.  Grabbing an extra bottle of water she returned to the bed, leaning against the headboard with her legs stretched out in front of her and holding out the extra bottle.

“Thought you could use some water. I know I can, my head is pounding.”

Suddenly the bed covers flew off. “Nevin?”

Riley turned, over come with panic, looking where she had expected to find Liam and instead found Drake staring back at her in shock.

“Drake?  What are you…?  How? Did we…?”

A quick glance to where the covers had been thrown off told Riley that Drake was as naked as she was.  “Oh my god,” she gasped, noticing the condom that had been opened but laid unused on the nightstand beside Drake.  Things must have gotten hot and heavy before they could put it on because the tingle in her body alone was enough to tell her what they had done.

Drake ran his hands through his hair, still not making any move to cover himself up.  “Holy shit!  What did we do?”

“From the looks of it I’d say…”

“Don’t!  Don’t say it.”  Drake stood from the bed and began to gather his clothes that were strewn all about the room.

Despite herself, Riley couldn’t help but admire his body.  “Well this is a nice view,” she said with a nervous laugh.

“Do you really think this is the time for jokes, Nevin.”

“Sorry,” Riley shrugged.  “Just trying to cut the tension.”

“Not even Olivia’s sharpest blade could cut this tension.  I can’t believe this…how did I let this happen?”

“Drake, calm down, you’re freaking out.”

“Uh-huh,” Drake said buttoning his jeans, “join me, won’t you?”

“No…I won’t.  We’ve both wanted this for a long time now.  It was bound to happen.”

“Not this way…not when neither of us even remember it and not when you’re marrying my best friend in three days.”

“I’m only marrying him because you want me to.”

“Don’t say that, Nevin.”

“Why?  It’s true,” she said, watching him pull a t-shirt over his head, “it should be…”

Riley stopped, a breath caught in her throat watching Drake tug his t-shirt down his waist.  “Ummm…Drake?” she stammered, nodding to the t-shirt.  “Where did you get that?

Drake looked down at what he had assumed was his standard plain white t-shirt and saw the word “Mr.” in bold black letter screen printed on the front.  “I don’t…I don’t know.”  

When he turned in search of his normal shirt, Riley gasped again.  “Oh.my.god.”  Across the back of the t-shirt were the words “Just Married – Cupid’s Wedding Chapel, Las Vegas.”

Drake ripped the shirt off again holding it to see the back.  “No, this can’t be true,” he stammered.

Riley rose from the bed and scooped up her own clothes.  Sifting through them quickly, she found what her gut knew would be there, a shirt matching Drake’s with the word “Mrs.” emblazoned on the front in black script lettering.  “Drake…” she said, holding it up for him to see.

“Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit…” Drake began chanting, pacing nervously around the room.  It didn’t matter that it was 9AM, Drake needed whiskey, stat.  Pouring a finger for each of them with shaky hands, he carried Riley’s glass over to where she stood silently staring out the window, clutching her t-shirt.

“No, thank you,” she shook her head when he tried to hand it to her.  “Isn’t that what got us here in the first place?”

Drake nodded solemnly.  “Look what you made me do,” he whispered to the glass in his hand, not caring if it was crazy to be talking to the booze.

“How much do you remember?” Riley asked.

“Some…not a lot,” Drake replied.

“Tell me.”

“Uh, let’s see.  We were in the hotel bar for a few hours.  You were keeping your distance from almost everyone. If it, ahh…weren’t for how beautiful you looked, someone might have mistaken you for me sitting there alone brooding over whiskey.”

“You weren’t alone though, Kiara was with you,” Riley said with the jealousy apparent in her voice.

Drake rolled his eyes.  “I ignore Kiara, even when she’s right next to me.”

“Oh please, Drake.  She’s a beautiful woman who clearly wants you.”

“I told you before, Nevin. You’re the only girl for me.”

Riley finally turned to meet Drake’s gaze.  “Then why have you been pushing me into this marriage to Liam.  We never even talked after Tariq’s statement like we said we would. You disappeared and left a note.”

“There was nothing to talk about, Nevin.  I’ve told you all along, I can’t give you the life you deserve.  Only Liam can do that.  That’s why no matter how hard it is to watch, I want you to marry him.”

Riley angerly turned from the window, walking over to the table and slamming down the glass of whiskey she still held.  “Well what about what I want?  You make this unilateral decision and just expect me to be okay with it.”

“Damn it, Riley,” Drake yelled, “at least some part of you must have been okay with it because you said ‘Yes’.”

“What the hell was I supposed to do?” she shouted back.  “You left! I wanted to talk about us and then talk to Liam together, but you left!  I was going to talk to him on my own that night…tell him everything even though you clearly didn’t want to be with me.  I felt like he at least deserved to know, but before I could, he was down on one knee. God, Drake,” she exclaimed throwing her arms in the air, “when he asked, I thought of you and it made my heart ache so bad and I cried.  I’m sure Liam thought they were tears of joy, but they weren’t, they were for you.  But he looked so hopeful, and I…I just couldn’t hurt him.  Not like that.  I do care about him, he’s one of my best friends.  I wanted to say no, but I didn’t want him to feel the same heartbreak I felt when I got your note.”

“I did want to be with you, Nevin.  I do want to be with you, but I can’t.  My best friend loves you and can give you the world.”

“I don’t need the world, Drake,” Riley yelled.  “I just need love…and not the kind of love I can live with…I want the kind of love I can’t live without.”  Riley crossed the room to where he stood and placed her hands on his cheeks.  “That’s you, Drake…you’re the love I can’t live without.”

Drake shook his head and reached up taking her hands from his face.  “No, Nevin.  You may not feel that for Liam now, but you will in time.  I’ve seen you getting closer throughout the tour, Nevin.  If you let yourself fall, you can have that kind of love with him.”

Hot angry tears rolled down Riley’s cheeks.  “No…no. I believe that kind of love is a once in the lifetime thing, Drake.  And I know you love me like that too, Drake.  I know you do.”

Drake nodded and wiped a tear from her cheek.  “I do. And that’s why I can step aside for your happiness.”

“Why are you so thick skulled? Look at me?  Do I look happy?  A crown and a kingdom won’t give me the happiness you think I deserve; only you can do that.  But instead you want me to marry a man I don’t love while I have to see you and long for you every day.”

“I won’t put you through that, Nevin.  I’ll leave after the wedding.  Without me in Cordonia, you can move on.”

“No, don’t say that…I can’t…I can’t lose you, Drake,” Riley said as her body shook with sobs.

“I’m sorry, Riley.  But it’s for the best.  You need to stop thinking about me, about us…the wedding is in three days.”

Riley’s breath hitched and she looked down at the t-shirt still clutched in her hand.  “I can’t have a wedding if I’m already married,” she said softly.

Drake looked at her with wide eyes.  “What? What are you saying, Nevin?”

“I’m saying I want to stay married, Drake.  I’m already married to the love of my life, I can’t…I won’t marry someone else. There isn’t going to be a wedding.”

[vurlix]

The Druid of Mothem

### I started working really hard on this one AI Dungeon campaign mapping out the whole world of Xaxas that the game offers and putting it all into World Anvil (an online world builder) So i can better track places and people since the AI in AI dungeon can only remember so much. The majority of this story is created by GPT-3 (if I had to make a guess I’d say ~85-90%. I also used the website Art Breeder to generate the pictures for the characters and landscapes. ###

### AI is coming a long way. I plan to continue this story since I love playing a druid in 5e. ###

### I also added the new AI Dungeon feature which allows the gaining of stats so every time I try to do an action, it rolls on stats that continue to grow. ###

### But besides that, I also rolled out a Druid Wood Elf and have a character sheet to follow

I’ll link everything after the story, other than that I hope you enjoy!! ###

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You are Goodaquazi, a male elf druid who lives in the town of Morthem. You are new to the town though rarely actually visit it. Being a druid you're the most comfortable being outside the town in the forest with nature. The town of Morthem consists of a few large buildings and many smaller ones surrounding it. Humans and elves make up the population of this small farming town. A large deep forest surrounds the farmland as far as the eye can see. It truly is a beautiful forest.

When you're not spending time in Morthem, you can be found deep in study at a small nature temple located somewhere away from Morthem deep in the forest. This temple is where all druids or those with an interest in nature and druidism spend time in study, meditation, or prayer.

The day to day life of Morthem goes on with or without you and that's OK. The people are content and that's all that's in your heart. It's a simple life, and you're happy with that. 

You are in a forest somewhere far from any civilisation. This is your home and you feel comfortable here with the animals, plants, and nature. You were taught by the master druids to harness the natural magic energy that exists in all things. You practice this skill every day for there is always more to learn.

 You lie down on the ground, stretching out your arms and legs along the lush grass and closing your eyes. The sun is high overhead, its light filtered through an unblemished blue sky. A cool wind blows through the field, carrying with it the rich scents of soil and nature. The grass is damp from last night's rain, and you can sense the life force of the land, almost as if it were a living creature itself. The scents and sensations are almost overpowering after your time in the city, but feel refreshing now that your senses have been reawakened.

You slowly open your eyes. All around you, plants grow and animals live in a perfect state of harmony with the land. You vanish from their sight, though creatures with greater senses might still be able to detect your presence if they were really looking.

However, it is not upon the ground that you wish to be. You feel cramped and bored lying there, so you take a deep breath and rise up into the air, levitating several feet above the ground. You are weightless, able to drift through the air with only a thought.

You have many hidden conversations with animals as you move through the forest and they, curious about this friendly stranger. Different types of animals, each with their own unique personalities, sizes and abilities. There are fighting animals able to kill even the largest of beasts, and others that are solely for transportation or, in some cases, purely companionship.

You drift along atop the wind, smiling and laughing as you fly. This is how you move from place to place when you are outdoors. Eventually, you begin to get a splitting headache from all the sensory input and decide to head back home for the day.

You approach your cabin by nightfall. Made chiefly of wood with a thatched roof, it looks every part the fairy-tale cottage. An enormous oak tree towers over it and provides shade. You walk up to the door and unlock it with ease. Heading inside, you take off your shoes, as is custom in this land. The entire floor is covered by a thick carpet of grass which springs back up after every step you take.

Una, your girlfriend, is preparing dinner. Her long blond hair falls down to the small of her back and her sky coloured eyes pierce your very being. By her feet rests Zane, the cutest puppy you've ever seen who can someday grow up to be a fierce guard dog if given the right training.

"Hey, Una," you say.

"Uh-huh," she replies, engrossed in the cooking.

From another room, you hear a baby boy giggling. The newest member of your family, Behan, lies in his cradle. You fly through the door and hover over his crib, looking down on his innocent features. Through your son, you have discovered the true joys of fatherhood. All younglings go through an insane rebellious phase, which Behan will eventually go through too, but for now he is really sweet.

"You look tired," remarks Una, suddenly standing beside you with a bowl of strawberries in her hands.

You take one out of the bowl and eat it, relishing the sweet taste as it enters your mouth. "I had an interesting day," you reply. "Why is Zane outside?"

Una blushes. "I wanted to surprise you. Turn around."

Curious, you do as she says and spin on the spot. You hear Una squeal with delight before her arms embrace you from behind and her head rests itself upon your shoulder. "So?" she asks, a mischievous smile evident in her voice.

You turn to face Una and are faced with the image of her clad in a tight, midriff showing black dress and knee high stilettos. Your jaw drops and you stare with awe. "Wow," you utter, staring at her beauty. "You... look... amazing!"

"I thought we could go to a friends' house to eat. They're having a party, do you want to go?"

The constant sensory input has given you a monstrous hunger, and as much as you love Una, you need food. "Absolutely," you say.

The two of you fly to your friend's house. The manor lies on a hilltop which descends into a plain, which lies on the edge of a dense evergreen forest. You are faced with the grandest house you have ever seen. Dozens of little windows peer at you like wandering eyes. Hundreds of lights create the illusion that the house is glowing. The manor is at least four stories high and has a tryst swim among trees behind it. The entire setting is like something out of a fairy tale. You land beside a golden pathway that leads up to the manor. The evergreen forest towers over you on both sides and a soft, cool breeze passes through it, sending chills down your spine. You take a deep breath through your nose as you enter through the heavy wooden door.

You are faced with a giant hall, with several corridors branching off it. The walls are lined with suits of armour, which glare at you with iron eyes. Black and white tiles line the floor, and a giant chandelier made up of antlers hangs from the ceiling. You both walk past the hall and down one of the branching corridors. Tiny flickering lights dance along the corridors' walls. You peer into a room and see a grand piano and several pieces of classical music written in notes on sheets of music. You enter the room as you sense somebody there. An old man with a goatee sits in the corner of the room, playing the piano. The music is slow and rhythmic.

You remember this man. He was one of Una's former boyfriends, a pianist that travels around the country and plays for people. You are about to call out to him when Una grabs your wrist. You look at her, meeting her fiery eyes. She motions for you to follow her and the pair of you bypass the man entirely. The next corridor weaves back and forth and has the same black and white tiles as the last corridor. Finally, the corridor brings you to a set of stairs. You climb the stairs slowly, and as you do you see someone at the top. It's the host of the party, Judge Beckery.

"You came!" he says, smiling. "I can already tell this is going to be the best party ever."

"Who was that man playing?" you ask, motioning toward the room with the grand piano.

"Oh him?" says Beckery. "That's just Harvey. He's a bit of a weirdo."

You nod slowly.

"Anyway, I just got here myself," says the Judge. "I'll show you to your room."

The pair of you head up another flight of stairs and Beckery stops at the first door on the left. He opens it and ushers you inside.

"I hope you'll be comfortable in here," he says.

The room is small but comfortable. It has a double bed, a dresser, and a nightstand with a lamp. There's also a desk in the corner. The walls are covered with a deep blue wallpaper. You set your bags down on the floor and look out the window. The courtyard and forest surround the house.

You return to the party. Those few feet between you and Una seem like an endless distance, one that neither of you are willing to cross.

As you enter the room the crowd melts away before you and everyone stares in astonishment. You stand there, surrounded by a crowd of people. A fight seems inevitable.

Suddenly the crowd parts and Una comes before you. She looks into your eyes and gives you a small smile. It's a smile that says everything will be alright. You smile back, and then feel your face flush and your heart flutter.

Before you stands Una, a tall and willowy young woman with long blond hair, gray eyes, and fair skin. Her beauty takes your breath away--more than that, her presence does, the way she stares back into your eyes timidly yet still willing to meet your gaze for as long as you like.

"I love you Una, thank you for bringing us here but I'm starving! Why don't we go into the dining room and get something to eat?"

Everyday your craft keeps you occupied and your spare time is spent with Una. As the years pass your personal life and druidic life begin to overlap one another. Your love for Una only deepens and your son Behan grows in strength and wisdom. You tell him stories of the old lands of Tuatha, and promise that when he's old enough you'll return, if only to visit.

"I saw the strangest thing today," Una says to you as you eat dinner. You are eating roasted duck at this party and Una has been watching you and Behan with a faint frown on her face.

"What's that?" you ask.

"I saw one of the peasants run over a fox and kill it." she says.

"That's terrible, why would someone be so careless about a living creature. What if that fox was me Una? Did you see who the peasant was that ran over the fox? " you respond.

"I did," she says, "It was Chris."

"Are you sure it was him?"

"No. But the man I saw was a barbarian and he's friends with that barbarian."

Knowing Una, this must have bothered her greatly. You've never been a fan of Chris, it seems that even if you are wrong about him, you still have to tell him to apologize to Una. As the sun disappears over the horizon and night falls, you head over to Chris's room.

You rap on his door and he bids you come in.

"What the hell do you want." Chris grunts angrily. You can tell he's clearly been drinking and not to mention his room smells awful. You also notice that there are various bottles filled with assorted types of Liquid.

"My wife is pretty upset with what happened at the party earlier, and I'd like to apologize if I could." You lie.

"Alright?" He says to you as he lights his pipe, the lighter producing a small blue flame.

You quickly chant a short incantation and the flame on his pipe flares up as smoke billows into his face, he has been incapacitated by the flames and he begins to scream as he desperately tries to pat them out.

You rush over and smack him in the head with your palm and he's out like a light.

You then look for Una to make sure she is alright, you find that Chris' alcohol and medications have finally kicked in and he has gotten some sleep.

You reassure Una and tell her not to worry about anything.

The next morning you both wake up and start to gather your equipment together.

You hug Una close and tell her how much you care for her.

"I told you everything was going to be fine." She says to you with a smile, "Let's go home, I miss Behan...and you need someone to do the shopping and cleaning."

Slowly the two of you head home. You start to reflect on the events that have occurred and realize that your life is finally calming down. You open the door of your home to find Zane making Behan laugh by chasing his tail. You watch your family with a smile on your face, glad that everything has worked out for you. You take a seat and call Zane over to join the family for a group hug.

“Good boy” you say to Zane as he begins to wag his tail happily. He gets up and goes over to Behan who is attempting to crawl away to no avail. Zane begins to lick Behan in the face, you watch them both laugh and occasionally look over to Una. You feel truly happy just watching them all. This is real happiness, this must be how Father felt. Time passes and it's nighttime before you know it. You tell Una that you're gonna cook dinner for tonight so she can relax and enjoy her night. With the nightly routine of cooking, cleaning and putting Behan to bed you soon find yourself heading off to bed as well.

As you both lie in bed with Una's hand wrapped around your arm you feel truly complete. There's nowhere else in the world you'd rather be, you have everything you need right here.

Your eyes start to get heavy as you fall asleep with a smile on your face. Your mind drifts from one thing to another as you find yourself entering the druidic realm of dreams. Several hours later you drift back into consciousness and remember the events that have led you here. You open your eyes and slowly sit up, the sun is already high in the sky outside and Una is nowhere to be seen. Knowing that she's probably out hunting, you get out of bed and look out the window. You take a deep breath through your nose and smell the scent of trees, nature, earth, and wild animals. You feel truly at peace in this moment.

With a smile across your face you walk over to Behan's bed and pick him up.

"Come on Behan!" you shout excitedly "Let's go play outside!"

You look outside and everything looks great. The forest, the trees, the earth, everything is perfect. This is your life now, and you wouldn't have it any other way. You set Behan down on the floor and go over to your dresser to grab your clothes. Nature is perfect, yes, but there are simple things in life that make it better. And one of those things is clothes. You put on your typical outfit, nothing too fancy, just your typical wool pants and tunic. With that done, you walk outside to play with Behan in the fields.

Zane wakes up and comes to join in the fun running around in circles and making Behan crawl after his tail. Every day is a happy day when you're with those who matter to you .

As you look out across the fields to watch Una returning from hunting with freshly killed deer, you realize that those that got you through hard times are the ones that matter most.

You will continue life as it is now. There is nothing else you could desire.

You greet Una with a small smile and hold out your arms for the deer carcass.

"Good work Una." You say smiling at her as you lift up the deer.

"Thank you." Una responds looking down at Behan who crawls over to her legs.

The carcass will feed your family for the next few days. You set it down near your home and bring Una inside to rest. She's a hero today and that's all that matters. She deserves to be treated as one.

You Kiss Una on the forehead and lift her in your arms to carry her into the bedroom.

You place her near Behan, and they both fall into a gentle sleep. They look like an angel and a demon sleeping together, but there's no malice in them at all!

You grab your blade and walk over to the deer carcass. You begin to butcher the beast using your vast expertise in limb severing. First, you remove the legs, then the head and then the torso. You work fast because you don't want the meat to begin rotting. With enough salt, you could eat it in a day or so.

Your family will eat good tonight and for the next few days!

Having finished the job you walk back into the house returning to Una's bedside to watch her sleep until dusk arrives.

Throwing in some pork for extra taste, you set out to make the deer meat stew.

The meat and bone will be used to make the stew and the offal fed to Zane who is begging by your side the whole time.

A blue flame envelops your hand and you slam your hand into the oven! The rich scent of flame-broiled deer meat fills the room in an instant.

"Zane! If you eat any more of my food, you won't grow up to be big and strong like me!" You joke at your small but ferocious dog!

Finally, the food is done, and you sit down with Una and Behan to enjoy an evening meal.

Master of fire you may be, but without the love and support of your wife and son you would burn out in a flash. Tonight you are happy and look forward to an amazing life with your family.

You hold Una's hand and thank her for being the amazing woman she is. "I have a goal set for myself tomorrow Una, I'm going to learn to shape shift" you explain. Una smiles and shakes her head fondly at you. "You'll never stop learning will you?" she asks in response. You both laugh and enjoy the evening meal.

[trensu]

Episode 27: The One where I Want to Punch Basically Every Sect Leader in the Face. Repeatedly. With a Chair.

And we start off back in the rain, AKA OUR ENDLESS TEARS

Wwx is like, do you remember our promise?

And lwj flashbacks TO THEIR LANTERN SCENE FROM THE ONE WHERE LWJ FINALLY SEES THE LIGHT

WE GET TO SEE LWJ’S PRECIOUS BABY FACE AS HE FALLS HEAD OVER HEELS IN THAT FLASHBACK

IT HURTS SO GOOD

Wwx: i wished to stand with justice and live without regrets. But tell me now, who’s strong, who’s weaker? Who’s right and who’s wrong?

Lwj: wei ying! 

Oh god, his voice! HE’S DISTRESSED

Wwx: is this the promise we pledged our lives to keep?

THEY BOTH LOOK SO HEARTBROKEN RN

Oh, look, lwj is doing the deathgrip of gay yearning on bichen again. We haven’t seen that in awhile AND I WISH WE WEREN’T SEEING IT NOW

Okay, but for real, how can lwj look so hurt here when the actor is literally doing nothing with his face??

I know i’ve mentioned that before, BUT C’MON, HOW?? HOW DOES THAT EVEN WORK??

Wwx: my only regret is that i didn’t stop the jin clan who took living people as bait

I REGRET YOU NOT TAKING DOWN THE JIN CLAN TOO

WE COULD’VE AVOIDED SO MANY PROBLEMS IF WE’D JUST KILL OFF 90% OF THAT CLAN, OMG

And now wwx is all, i missed my chance to protect wen ning before so now i MUST leave to save him

BC WWX IS THE BEST MOST HONORABLE PERSON IN THE WORLD

Oh no

Oh noooo

He’s pulling out his demon flute. We’re gonna get THAT SCENE

Wwx: lan zhan, if i finally have to fight them, i’d prefer to fight with you

Wwx: if i am doomed to die, at least i can be killed by you. That would be worth it.

HE SAYS THAT BC HE TRUSTS VIRTUOUS LWJ TO STOP HIM IF HE REALLY IS IN THE WRONG

AND I AM SCREAMING IN PAIN RN

BC LOOK AT LWJ’S FACE

HE’S LISTENING TO HIS SOULMATE TELL HIM THAT HE WANTS HIS DEATH TO BE AT HIS HAND

Oh god, he’s doing the bichen deathgrip again

He tears his gaze away from wwx and turns to the side TO LET THEM ALL GO PAST

EYES LOWERED AS HIS HEART BREAKS INTO A MILLION PIECES

HE’S CRYING OH GOD HE’S CRYING

THERE ARE TEARS GOING DOWN HIS FACE, OH GOD WHY IS THIS HAPPENING

HE DIDN’T EVEN CRY WHEN HIS HOME GOT BURNED AND HIS FAMILY WAS MISSING AND/OR DYING

And now he drops his umbrella to the ground AS HE TRIES TO DROWN HIMSELF IN THE RAIN

*HYSTERICAL SOBBING*

THEY PACKED ALL THAT HEARTBREAK INTO THE FIRST 6MIN OF THE EPISODE, WTF, SOMEBODY STAB ME

And after all that emotional torture we get Plot Stuff happening

Blah blah wwx at the burial mounds blah blah sect leader banquet blah blah

Ugh, gross, they’re letting the idiot sect leaders talk again

They’re all blah blah wwx is evil blah blah he murders ppl blah blah we hate him blah blah

SHUT UP YOU BUNCH OF WALKING HUMAN-RIGHTS-VIOLATIONS

This whole part here is so difficult to watch. They’re literally just trash-talking my PRECIOUS SUNSHINE BOY

Jc, lwj, and lxc look visibly uncomfortable with what’s going down and they kind of sort of tried to defend wwx but they didn’t present a united front or hold their ground

Instead they let yao and ouyang run their stupid mouths

Anyway

Here’s little itty bitty bits of almost wangxiantics in the middle of this mess

Jgs: yeah, jc, i know wwx is your trusted bro and all but idk if wwx actually respects your authority. Do something about it, maybe

Lwj: *subtly glares at jgs*

And then everyone joins in on dragging wwx’s name through the mud bc apparently that’s the hot new thing in the cultivator world

If you look closely while this is happening, you can see that lwj legit GRINDS HIS TEETH with how much he’s holding back. MY POOR BB HAVING TO SIT THERE AND LISTEN TO EVERYONE DISPARAGE HIS SOULMATE

Jgs: wwx totally doesn’t respect you, jc, my bro. Everyone here heard him say how much he thinks you suck or whatever

Lwj: No I didn’t.

OOOOH, LWJ IS ANGRY AS HELL

HE’S OUTRIGHT GLARING AT JGS 

Jgs: what??

Lwj: i never heard wei ying say that, nor did i see him disrespect clan leader jiang

HANGUANG-JUN I LOVE YOU, LOOK AT YOU DEFENDING THE LOVE OF YOUR LIFE, I’M SO PROUD OF YOU 

And ugh, disgusting, jgy steps in to be all “oh, well, wwx said so many awful things that day, who can possibly remember the specifics?”

Lwj visibly swallows here, as if he’s choking back a response, and his lips are all pursed. 

HE’S FURIOUS. HE’S ROILING WITH IMPOTENT ANGER, WHICH IS THE WORST KIND OF ANGER, TBH

That’s all the wangxiantics we get from that terrible awful sect leader banquet

THOSE SECT LEADERS NEED TO GET PUNCHED IN THE FACE

LIKE, A LOT

WITH A CHAIR

OR A TABLE

YOU KNOW WHAT, LET ME JUST TAKE BICHEN AND BEAT THEM ALL WITH IT

OR BETTER, YET, I’LL USE BAXIA. I WON’T EVEN CUT THEM UP. I’LL JUST BEAT THEM WITH THE BROAD PART

*ANGRY YELLING*

Oh, wait a minute. Wait a minute! 

This isn’t a wangxiantic

But it is an EPIC MOMENT that should be commemorated.

Because here we get…

*drum roll*

MIANMIAN BEING A BOSS

Jz: blah blah wwx kills our people indiscriminately blah blah

Mm: not indiscriminately

Mm: indiscriminate is not accurate

And everyone around her is like, confused and offended because they’re assholes

Mm: in this specific case, if the overseers did abuse the Wen prisoners and kill wen ning, then what wwx did was not “killing indiscriminately”

Ouyang: nah, the overseers said they never abused/killed anyone

Mm: OF COURSE THEY’D FUCKING SAY THAT. THEY DON’T WANT TO FACE PUNISHMENT, YOU IDIOT

(okay, she didn’t call him an idiot outright or swear, but it was totally there in her tone of voice and also ouyang is an idiot so there)

Mm: you all think you’re so smart and voice your opinions so loudly

Mm: I SECEDE FROM THIS BULLSHIT. FUCK THE JIN CLAN AND YOUR STUPID CLAN POLITICS

And she throws down her jin robes and mARCHES RIGHT OUT OF THAT SHITHOLE WITH HER HEAD HELD HIGH

MIANMIAN PLEASE MARRY ME

Lwj watches her do that and two seconds later follows her out bC HE RECOGNIZES BADASSERY WHEN HE SEES IT (and also she defended the love of his life)

And that badass moment ends

But the banquet of idiots keeps going

The jin clan needs to learn how to shut the fuck up

God, they just go on and on and on

Why are they torturing me like this

OH WAIT, WE’RE OUTSIDE THE BANQUET HALL NOW

We see lwj and mm standing together on a terrace, talking to each other

BUT WE DON’T GET TO HEAR WHAT THEY SAY TO EACH OTHER AND THAT HAUNTS ME TO THIS DAY

WHAT DID THEY SAY

TELL MEEEEEEE

Oh, side note to let you all know this direct quote from nmj - “that girl really has a backbone.”

Okay nmj, i’m slightly less angry at you now. I won’t try to beat you with bichen or a table or a chair.

(but now i kinda wish mm would join the nie clan. I think she’d do well there and also i want to see her carry a gigantic saber)

We get some chitchat with the Official Bros™ but idc let’s move on 

(tho i do appreciate the look nmj gives jgy, like, HOW DARE YOU TALK TO ME lolol)

Ooooh, now we’re getting lan fam time

ANGRY lan fam time, uh oh.

Lqr: lwj, have you regretted it? I didn’t punish you when you broke into the Forbidden Chamber bc i thought you’d self-reflect 

Lqr: you shouldn’t have gone to qiongqi way and let wwx go. Should you make one mistake after another?

And lwj is kneeling in front of him this whole time with a blank face

Lqr: what’s the use of getting you to memorize the Great Big Book of Lan Fam Rules?? Tell me, what is rule 52?

Lwj: No association with evil

He answers immediately and without any inflection to his voice.

Lqr: did you forget what happened to your father???

AND WE FINALLY GET A REACTION HERE

Lwj practically gasps and lifts his gaze to meet his uncle head-on

Lwj: my mother, she…!

Lqr: hold your tongue!

And just like that, lwj shuts down again; expression flat and gaze lowered

GOD, THIS CLAN HAS HURT HIM SO MUCH THROUGHOUT HIS LIFE

I MEAN, THEY MUST’VE, FOR HIM TO BE ABLE TO JUST DISCONNECT LIKE THAT

THAT IS NOT THE BEHAVIOR OF A NORMAL WELL-ADJUSTED PERSON

Basically the entire lan clan needs to go to therapy, like, STAT

Oh, i just noticed, lwj has his fists clenched at his sides. He’s clenching them hard, too. I think they’re trembling a bit, actually…

Lqr: i’ve been taking care of you since you were a kid; you’re like my son.i was strict bc i wanted you to stick to the right path and avoid your father’s tragedy

Lqr: that’s what i wanted to say to you. I hope you choose the right path. You may leave.

Lwj still bows respectfully before taking his leave

And i’m sure y’all are wondering, hey trensu, why did you make us endure that angry lan fam time that hurt us deep in our soul?? That wasn’t wangxiantic at all!

That’s where you're wrong, my friends!

It’s actually SUPER wangxiantic bc lqr kept drawing parallels to lwj’s dad the practically whole time

You know, the dad that married their mother who murdered some guy and had the whole world turn against her. 

(Sound familiar?)

The same mother that dad loved with his entire being and did what he could to keep her safe from the ramifications of her actions? By marrying her? And hiding her in the cloud recesses?

YEAH, HE’S EQUATING WANGXIAN WITH LWJ’S PARENTS’ TRAGIC ROMANCE

Bc, you know, that’s a totally hetero comparison to make lol

Oh, now we get to see our favorite Disaster Het be less of a disaster

We’re not going into detail here bc we’re not here for hetero shenanigans, yuck (actually, i’m apparently weak to Pining Idiots of all kinds bc this whole jzx/jyl scene is giving me tender feelings)

BUT

I do want to add that OMG FOR REAL LWJ AND JZX HAVE SO MUCH IN COMMON WHEN IT COMES TO THEIR LOVE LIVES, IT’S FANTASTIC

I NEED 10 MILLION FICS OF THEM COMMISERATING OVER THEIR SHARED DISASTER-NESS

Also, how the HELL did jzx end up being the one who was able to express his intentions clearly? He was all “please don’t go to the burial mounds, stay here with me so i can protect you from all who would want to hurt you”

DAMN IT LWJ, IF YOU’D JUST SAY THAT TO WWX, HE’S UNDERSTAND WHAT’S GOING ON. 

YOU CAN’T JUST BE ALL “COME TO GUSU” WITH NO EXPLANATION

Jzx accomplished this before you did, YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED.

Huh, okay, i guess i did go into a bit of detail with that hetero nonsense. Oh well.

Now we’re at the burial mounds again with wwx

AND WE SEE A-YUAN PROPERLY FOR THE FIRST TIMEEEEE!!

ANY A-YUAN MOMENT IS BY DEFAULT A WANGXIANTIC, GUYS, TRUST ME.

AAHHHH, WE SEE A-YUAN DO THAT LEG-GRABBY THING HE DOES!!!

HE’S SO CUTE. TOO ADORABLE.

I LOVE YOU A-YUAN

Lol, wwx is all if you don’t let go i’ll plant you like a turnip

And a-yuan plops himself down in the dirt like YOUR THREATS DON’T WORK ON ME, OLD MAN, I LIKE BEING IN THE DIRT

Then he asks wwx for 3 elder brothers and 2 elder sisters, awwww. He thinks wwx can grow them in the garden (like cabbage patch kids!!!)

Plot stuff happens

Blah blah wwx and wq share moment blah blah jc shows up blah blah

Lol

Jc sees that glowing talisman door thing and is like THAT SIGN WON’T STOP ME BC I CAN’T READ

And then whips it down with zidian

Now we get some feelings-laden Yunmeng bros time

A-yuan shows up and leg-grabs jc and it’s ADORABLE

But jc yells at him bc he’s a JERK

Wwx scolds jc and then is a Dad to a-yuan: don’t put your hand in your mouth, you were just touching dirt!

Awww, we get to see jc fight back a smile at this! HE WANTS TO BE AN UNCLE, I JUST KNOW IT.

Plot plot plot stuff happens

More plot stuff happens

And the episode ends with us still in the burial mounds with the yunmeng bros

And you know what, i’m just gonna focus on our BAMF mianmian moment bc quite frankly the rest of the episode either had me in tears of anguish or spitting mad. There was no inbetween. 

I’m gonna end up having blood pressure problems at this rate.

I’m too poor young to have blood pressure problems.

The Jin clan better pay for any medical bills I get because of them, I'm just saying

Return to Masterpost

[turqrambles]

The Five Worst Things About Digimon World

I did it.

It took 20 years but I did it.

I finally beat Digimon World for the Playstation 1, a game that has haunted me for most of my lifetime, and I did it with a Phoenixmon, the reason why I use “Turquoisephoenix” as a handle!

This is who I used to beat the game, named after an obscure Ratchet and Clank character because that’s just how I roll. The final boss battle involved a lot of Prominence Beam spamming and med recovery floppy spamming but I did it fair and square. 

Before I get into what I thought about this game as a whole - and I do have a lot of good things to say about this game since I obviously enjoyed it enough to get to the end - I gotta talk about my least favorite things about this game. In a concise, Buzzfeed-esque list because I like writing things in easy to digest chunks.

Because, like most charming yet difficult games of the late 90′s, this game is very flawed and the flaws are pretty annoying!

1. Care Mistakes

The three emojis - Smile, Cool, and Poop.

Okay. This one - my least favorite part in the game - is going to take a bit of explanation.

First off, I don’t actually hate care mistakes existing as a mechanic. I think it’s a cute, virtual pet-y way to add a different wrinkle to evolution requirements, even if I think it’s a bit counter-intuitive to have to suddenly abuse my little companion once they reach Champion just because I want them to evolve into a floating metallic ball with a chainsaw.

My problem with care mistakes is that there’s literally no way of telling many care mistakes you have on your given Digimon. 

Literally everything else in this game is concisely recorded and easily displayed on your Digimon’s stats screen. You can see how much your Digimon weighs. You can see their Happiness, their Discipline. How much Life they have left. Their Age. Even how many poops they need to make before they digivolve into a sentient pile of feces.

But Care Mistakes? Naaaaw, you just gotta remember every single thing that you did to your Digimon from the moment it evolves in your fallible human brain. What’s that? A good portion of this game involves grinding in the Green Gym and it’s really easy to make a Care Mistake there without knowing you did so because you mashed A too fast like the stat-grinding numskull that you are? Well, that’s just too fucking bad for you, then! Enjoy not getting some of the best evolutions, you piece of shit. You stooge. You moron!

This game, multiple times: You know who I hate? The player.

Care Mistakes are such an invisible mechanic that, to this day, there are many guides with misleading info about what counts as a Care Mistake and what doesn’t, which...really stinks for a game such as this where you will be using a guide pretty extensively to get the Digimon you deserve. And you know why that is? Because we don’t get any indication as to whether or not some random event counts against you when raising your Digimon.

And honestly, having one of your main mechanics of the game being entirely invisible to the player is a terrible idea. Just put a little number in my profile that says “Care Mistakes: 0″ in there. Let me know this information without guessing.

2. The Glitches

Pictured: Something that will CRASH YOUR GAME if you try it on a physical copy.

Let me start with a disclaimer that most of the glitches I’m going to complain about were added into the game when Digimon World was localized and therefore aren’t the original intent of the developers. There are certain versions of Digimon World that are more stable than others (The English PAL version is the best version to play because of this) and, if you play this game via “certain methods”, there are patches to circumvent some of the bigger problems.

That being said! Boy! Isn’t it ironic that a game where I’m exploring the digital world is plagued with so many annoying, game-ruining glitches? Especially if I’m playing this game on a physical 20-year old copy like a dunce?

“Ohhhh...so Agumon thinks that they can block the Digimon game with their big fat Digimon-blocking head, do they?!”

The NTSC version of this game has a jukebox that will crash the game if you try to use it, keeping you from ever using a bonus feature meant to be a fun little reward for completing a certain dungeon, but that’s not as heinous as the Spanish, French, German, and Italian PAL versions of this game locking a good portion of the game to players because they forgot to make the Agumon in front of Ogremon’s Fortress an object you can interact with.

So that means, if you happened to get this game in one of four lucky countries, you can’t complete the Ogremon mission, you can’t recruit Whamon, you can’t recruit Shellmon, you can’t recruit anything tied to Shellmon’s bulletin board (which means no Vademon or Skullgreymon), and you can’t go to Factorial Town and recruit Giromon, Andromon, or Numemon. Ogremon is a key part of the Digimon World storyline and causes so many different things in the game to change, meaning that it should’ve been imperative to make sure this part of the game works!

But no. Instead this one little bastard Agumon keeps most players from finishing the game, because it starves players of those PAL regions of a bunch of Prosperity points, the main source of progression in this game. That means that Mt. Infinity and the final boss is just that much harder to unlock. It’s doable, but it’s more grueling process.

This really is a problem with the translators and really highlights a lack of general care with testing this game. Why this game was allowed to be shipped with such glaring bugs is anyone’s guess, especially in an era where you couldn’t release any patches over the Internet to fix retail versions.

3. The Monochromon’s Shop Minigame

Ohhhh....this one was so close to getting the top spot. When I first wrote this draft, this was the top spot.

Monochromon was only spared of my true ire on account of the fact that it really only exists for one part of the game (rather than being a constant problem like the Care Mistakes and the Glitches are) and you can easily cheese it by sleeping in front of the store so that you can save scum your way to victory. Like a true Digital Champion!

At one point in the game, you gotta help a entrepreneur dinosaur rhino man make a profit, because he was stupid and put his convenience store in the middle of a giant canyon next to a gaping chasm. So you play a little game of haggling, where you try to ruthlessly oversell a bunch of random items to customers until you make enough of a profit that this talking dinosaur tells you that you passed his secret test of character, abandons his store, and moves into File City.

There’s just one problem with this minigame - everything is decided by RNG.

“Get the hell out of my shop”

This minigame hates you. It wants nothing but to see you fail and to waste your time. The difference in profit margins of the three items (Meat sells for 50g, Portable Potties sell for 300g, and Medicine sells for 1000g) are so stark that, if you get too many customers asking for Meat, you might as well just reset the game and start over because it will be literally impossible to meet the requirement even if you busted the customer’s proverbial balls and squeezed every last bit out of their cutesy penguin faces.

Oh! It’s also RNG as to whether or not your customers will take your asking price or storm out of the store without buying anything!

It’s all the fun of working at retail! In a video game!

4. Three on One Battles

What you see before you is a battle system that is really fun when it’s one vs. one, manageable at two vs. one, and downright unbearable at three vs. one.

The battle system works for the most part. You don’t have full control of your Digimon (and yes, you only have one Digimon with you at one time, so you can never stack the numbers in your favor) so you shout commands at it, commands that the Digimon’s AI are pretty good at following, and hope for the best as you chuck healing items at it.

It’s not the best battle system, but it’s fun. And it definitely reinforces the whole “this is a pet you’re taking care of with its own thoughts and feelings” atmosphere that this game is going for.

However, nothing can protect your Digimon from enemy fire concentrated on them, especially if you did the thing that most players do and equipped your Digimon with the most powerful attacks that also happen to have slower cast times than the faster, weaker attacks.

What then happens is your Digimon’s Health is slowly whittled away as you are powerless to stop it, watching as your digital friend is straight up bullied by enemy Digimon as they keep falling to the ground over and over and over and over again.

The one saving grace is that Friendly Fire exists in this game so that oftentimes the enemy Digimon will damage each other in their mad dash to ruin your day, but that seems more like a band-aid than an actual fix to this system.

5. Fishing Seadramon

“Hi, kid. Let me guess - you also thought you had to talk to the Tankmon in Factorial Town in order to unlock me, huh.”

This one is a lot less of a pain than the other four and it’s only a little annoying but boy...getting Seadramon kinda sucks in this game.

It took me almost a goddamn hour to catch Seadramon. One hour of gameplay devoted to catching one fish. Just like real fishing!

I will say, besides Seadramon, the fishing minigame in this game is pretty competent. It’s just that Seadramon is very elusive, showing up at only two hours in a 24 hour day, and is a very finicky fish that won’t take your bait even if you literally placed it in front of his dumb fish face.

Don’t be fooled by this screenshot. The heart just means you have the right bait. The heart means that you didn’t actually get within range of hooking him.

IT’S RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU!!!

Seadramon is also subject to almost as many gaming myths as the Care Mistakes are, due to how elusive he is, but that’s less to do with poor communication (the game does at least explain multiple times in multiple places how to find him) and more to do with the fact that catching him is just such a goddamn chore to do that players of this game always assume they’re doing something wrong.

When in reality, Seadramon is just a picky little bitch.

Next time I discuss Digimon World, I’ll talk about things I liked, don’t worry. I just had to get all of this negativity out before discussing the full game proper.

[olivia-anderson-gifted]

Story prompt: Video game protagonist develops free will, discovers cheat codes.

People always say that cheating takes all of the fun out of games. ‘If you don’t work for it the ending won’t feel earned!’ they scream from atop their high horses.

Well, she had worked for the ending.

She had spent years of her life working towards it, building up her stats, obtaining the best items, making friends with the best party members. She had narrowly escaped her and her friends’ deaths multiple times. She had finally bested the bad guy! The good times were in sight, in a few years the world would be a utopia!

ESC.

Her vision flickered blinding white for a moment and she brought her hands to her eyes. She gave a quiet whine, a little ‘Not again!’, before opening them again.

She was floating, weightless in a void. In front of her were words in a language she couldn’t comprehend, brilliant white against the nothingness, and an arrow pointing between what seemed to be two options.

She barely even paid it any attention. Why would she? It wasn’t as if she hadn’t seen any of this before. It had been a surprise the first time, and even the second, but now? Ah, it’s just a run of the mill Darkness. A monthly occurrence, really. It would be over in a few minutes anyway.

At first, she didn’t think much of how long she was there. When you’re waiting for something it feels like it takes longer, after all!

Seconds... fade into minutes... fade into hours... fade into days...

What is taking so fucking long?

She found herself staring at the back of the words, struggling to understand the weird text. What language was that in? It certainly wasn’t anything like she’d seen before, the words were so... defined. What kind of weirdos would have thin letters? Didn’t they know blocks were the way to go?

Maybe it was because she was looking at it from behind. Those letters looked so... ghastly, there was no way that they really looked like that.

She started to drift over and she frowned as she pressed a hand to the nearest... whatever that was. She had seen it happen before, the weird way it had shaken before bringing her back to the normal world, maybe if she just...

Fuck that’s heavy! She pushed against it with all her might but it wouldn’t budge.

Eventually, she slumped against the abomination, resting her head against it and closing her eyes (not that closing her eyes changed anything). She opened them again after she had caught her breath and looked around for something, anything, to do.

Her eyes found their way to the arrow. She floated over to it and poked it, expecting it to be just like the text, only to scream as it attached itself to her pointer finger. The sudden weight pulled her down a few feet before she regained enough thought to stop herself.

Her gaze found itself to the immovable object and she hurled the arrow -- and herself along at it -- in its direction. She wasn’t expecting much, maybe a collision to snap herself awake (because this must have been some sort of weird nightmare), so it was a shock when she saw the ‘words’ budge.

She shot out of bed, hitting the cold stone floors beside it. Guess she was right about the nightmare part. She winced and closed her eyes to let them adjust to the new light.

Her right arm throbbed where she had thrown it out to catch herself but it was still useful enough to push her back to a sitting position. She cringed at the hard floors, wondering just where she had managed to fall asleep this time, and she sleepily ran her hands over the cracks in the stone.

Wait, cracked stone?

Her eyes shot open despite the slight pain.

God no.

She was back in a prison cell. The guard she had befriended years ago was scowling at her from the other side, knocking his baton against it like he’d done every day. Had he regressed? Taken a plea deal to get out of charges? Wow, he’d even styled his hair back to what it had been when he’d been working there originally.

“Wake up, 1111.”

“I have a name, yknow!” She hissed. “It’s --.” The world paused around her. The person in the cell opposite hers stopped changing midstep, the guard caught mid-blink, the fly next to her nose hanging.

But even weirder were the white words in front of her face. She wasn’t in the void. Those weren’t supposed to be there.

She opted to ignore the words for now, because she honestly didn’t know what to do, and reached up her hand to catch the fly since she’d actually be able to.

It was here that she noticed her left hand had something attached to it. She stared at the milky white boxes with their weird abominations and narrowed her eyes. Maybe the arrow hadn’t faded from her hand like she’d thought, it had just gotten smaller?

She reached out and tapped a few buttons.

“-- DHSHT0! My name is DHSHT0.”

Wait, what? The world was working again? And why had she said that was her name? Her name is DHSHT0!

Huh?

She couldn’t seem to remember her name anymore, just that weird amalgamation of sounds.

“I don’t care,” her friend sneered. “Just get moving, alright?”

He was gone. She had a strange sense of deja vu.

She looked back at her hands and raised her eyebrows when she saw that the boxes were still hovering there, waiting for use.

Deciding to just accept that as a part of life. Best for her sanity.

She slowly walked over to get a change of clothes and her eyes widened as she saw a familiar set of tally marks on the wall. Sure, this was pretty standard, but...

She counted them out and, with a sudden temptation, reached a hand out to scratch a new line.

129 days and counting, she thought.

She knew that thought. She knew those tallies. And she definitely knew what was going on now.

No.

No no no no no no!

She ran back to the front of the cell, pressing herself flush against the bars to get a good look at her friend. He hadn’t just cut his hair back, no, it was back to being that way. From the perfectly cropped hair to the bleached blond roots.

She was back at the beginning of this whole mess.

Oh, fuck no.

She’d rather be back in the void, thank you very much! She looked down at the pad in her hand and began typing furiously. She’d figured out where the enter key had been when she’d typed out her name, so now she inputted random combinations then pressed enter. She wasn’t sure what would work, or what could happen, but she didn’t care.

She blinked and suddenly she was in red armor. Fear climbed up her throat. Did this mean she worked for Him now? She typed more furiously.

A different friend of hers popped into existence in the cell for half a second before disappearing. Oops. Wish she’d actually paid attention to what she was typing.

She leaned herself against the wall and began typing again, more slowly to actually note what was going on.

The wall disappeared from behind her and she fell through, landing in a meadow. She was walking with the guard, whose mostly brown hair was now past his shoulders. She dropped her hand in surprise.

He looked affronted at something she said. “Oh, DHSHT0, come on! You can’t say that! That’s blasphemy.”

She smirked, reaching up to pinch his cheek. “Really? Okay.” She raised her arms to the heavens. “If that’s blasphemy, then He will strike me dead right now.”

There was a pause and she barely managed to think ‘wait, what were we even talking about? What’s going on? Haven’t I already done this before?’ before she turned to him, her cheeky grin stretching even wider.

“Well? I’m waiting.”

She brought her left hand up and started messing with the keypad again. This was all so weird. She’d done all this before, she recognized what was going on, but everything was off about it. They hadn’t done this in a field, she hadn’t been wearing these clothes, and she certainly hadn’t ever had real-life pauses happen before.

Or, as she was beginning to suspect, not real-life at all.

She kept her hand up to pause time and started walking towards town. She needed to get to a library, she needed to understand what the hell had happened to her hand.

But she couldn’t get further than a few steps ahead of herself before she hit some sort of invisible wall. She leaned all her weight against it but, again, it wasn’t enough to gain any ground.

She slid to the floor and rested her head in her hands.

Suddenly, a friend popped in front of her. She glanced down at the keypad, frowning. Had she accidentally tapped something out with her head?

“Hey, DHSHT0, wanna talk?” They chirped in that same pleasant voice they always had but now their smile felt weird. It was too wide, too teeth-y, and definitely didn’t reach his eyes.

“Not really, Johnny.”

“So, you thought you’d be clever and hack the game, huh?” He said, squatting in front of her and steepling his hands under his chin.

‘Hack’ the ‘game’?

“Bet DHSHT0 isn’t even your real name. Bet your real name is something like...” He tilted his head as if listening to a distant song. “Danny?”

She gasped, though she wasn’t sure why. That sounded right, though, so maybe that was her original name.

“I’m right aren’t I?”

She started to bring her hand up to type, to get out of there because something was seriously wrong with her friend and she didn’t like it one bit, but Johnny pushed it back down.

“Now, now, don’t leave! The fun is just getting started! And you want to have fun, don’t you?”

She knew by his tone that whatever ‘fun’ he had planned, she’d want no part of. She pulled her knees to her chest to get as far away from him as possible.

He grabbed her left hand again, pulling it towards him and drumming his fingers across the keypad.

She fell out of bed again, screaming. Just a bad dream, the worst dream ever. She pressed her hand to the floor, moving to get up, and her eyes widened as they felt stone.

She opened her eyes and looked around the cell. Her guard was there again, yelling, “Wake up, 1111, 1112!”

She blinked at the additional number and turned her head to see him. He looked so innocent, bobbing up and down on the bed, but there was nothing innocent about what was going on.

He smiled. “Hiya, cellmate.”

“Can’t you just call me my name?”

“And what was that again?” He cooed.

She had learned a few times ago that, for things to start, you needed the weird line thing at the beginning, so now she pressed it and inputted a random string of letters.

The last thing she saw before she moved was his annoyed expression.

She stood at the base of the mountain. She knew Johnny wasn’t supposed to be a character here yet, so she breathed a sigh of relief, only to turn and see him standing among the two who were actually part of it.

“You know, you could just enjoy the game for what it is,” he said.

She brought her hand up and he lunged for her. She dodged his swipe by pure luck and started running up the mountain because she knew for a fact that she was able to. She was having trouble doing precision typing on the run but she hardly cared as she reached a for it and...

WWWWWWWWWWWWWW--

Huh? Why was her keyboard typing out that one letter so much?

“Having a little trouble typing and running?” Came his voice and she screamed as she ran into him. She hit the ground and winced as pebbles scraped her hands and legs. She dusted at the debris on her hands.

“You should be behind me!”

“And you should be back in your cell, playing this game as it was intended. Life’s full of disappointments.”

He reached for her hand but she was already gone.

She was standing with all her friends, beaming widely as she lifted the crown onto her head. Wait a minute, a crown? When did this happen? Wasn’t she supposed to get a medal for her service, and wasn’t someone supposed to put it on her?

She turned around and stared at troops upon troops of red-clad soldiers.

No.

Johnny clapped from his spot beside her. There was a loud bing from beside her head, a box with a crown and some more of that weird language, and then it was gone.

She was in a white room with Johnny. She looked down at her hand to plot yet another escape, only to find her keypad was gone.

“Congratulations, Danny. You’ve gotten the secret ending,” he said with unenthusiastic jazz hands. “You’ve gotten the secret, now play the game as it is intended or hit ESC and log out for good.”

There was a long pause. Her keypad was gone. Even then, she didn’t know what ESC was in that language. She didn’t want to risk getting it wrong.

“Well?” He prompted.

She stared at her hand, waiting for it to pop up.

“Well?” He prompted.

“I want my old life back! I want the good ending with everyone happy and on the right side and--!”

“Well?” He prompted.

[traya-sutton]

Gotta Give it Up for Shakesy-P

Happy holidays @awhitehead17!  I’m your secret santa lol, here’s your gift!

ao3

__________________________

“Quiet down now,” Ms. Prince ordered and the class fell into silence. The end of the period was near, and they were restless. “Your final project for Romeo and Juliet will be a performance piece. We’ll be doing an abridged version of the play in front of parents and friends two weeks from now.” This resulted in loud ‘Aww!’s from the class. Cassie wrapped her hand around Conner’s and squeezed, neck craning around the room. She was already picking who she wanted to do the project with. Conner wanted her or Roxy on in his group, but he could see Ray making eyes at him from across the room. It wasn’t that Conner didn’t like Ray, he just preferred to work with his friends.

“I’ve picked the scenes you will be performing,” Ms. Prince waved to the numbers written on the white board. There were three sets: an act number, a scene number, and a third number—almost of all which were between two and four, except for one which was six. “I have also written by the side of the scene how many people will be in each group. Groups will be picked randomly.” She said and pulled out a hat. This was met with another lament from the class. “After I pick your groups, huddle up and you can begin prepping for your piece for the last five minutes of class.”

Cassie sighed and dropped Conner’s hand. “Well, we tried.”  He said with a shrug.

“I just hope I get a death scene.” Cassie said. Ms. Prince started calling out scenes and names but the attention span of the class was gone. Conner only half paid attention.

“Who would be your Juliet?” Conner teased.

“Huh? Oh!” Cassie’s eyes flickered to Cissie at the front of the room, leaning over Anita’s desk to mutter something to her. Then back to Conner, the tips of her ears pink. “I-I mean-any death scene will do. I’d love to be Mercutio.” Then Cassie grinned at Conner and waggled her eyebrows. “What about you, Romeo? Which would you like?”

“-ake. Conner Kent.” Conner’s jerked his head to look as Ms. Prince wrote names down next to scenes. She picked another out of the hat. “Jaime Reyes. Bart Allen.” He’d gotten the six-person scene: act one, scene five. “And Stephanie Brown. Since we’re doing an abridged version, you’ll be starting the scene at the entrance of Capulet, alright?”

Conner flipped to the scene in his copy of Romeo and Juliet, and scanned it. It was the scene where Romeo and Juliet met. He counted the characters and the number of people written on the board. There were too many characters in the scene, they’d probably have to double up. Ms. Prince moved on to the next group.

“Act one, scene five over here!” He heard someone call.

“You got a romance scene,” Cassie said, glancing at his book. She laughed. “Good luck.”

“Thanks,” Conner said sarcastically and she shot him a thumbs up as he headed over to where his group sat. Bart was with him, that was good. Conner liked Bart, even if he was a little much to be around sometimes. Plus, Bart was on the track team so Conner would see him in the locker room sometimes.

He knew Jaime vaguely. He was on the football team with Conner, but other than the fact that he liked science Conner knew nothing about him. La’gaan he knew was on the swim team.  So they were a group of jocks, that would be fun. Conner would totally be able to get Romeo. There was a blonde he’d never met, but knew was a friend of the Waynes, and—Conner’s eyes fell on the last member of their group—a Wayne themselves. Well, fuck.

Tim Drake-Wayne. Tim was chewing on the end of a black pen as he read over the scene, completely ignoring everyone around him. Typical.

Conner was good at a lot of things. He was the best at most of them, in fact. Sure, he needed some help in math and science, but frankly, who didn’t. Plus, he was passing, which was good enough for him to not put in any extra effort. Almost anything Conner tried, really tried at, he was great at. Amazing, if one was being kind.

However, whatever Conner wasn’t good at Tim Drake-Wayne always seemed to be the one to excel. One step ahead whenever he was falling behind.

He knew that Wayne was on the debate team, Model UN, and the theater club. Oh, Conner realized, a theater nerd. This was going to be fun.

“Hi! I’m Steph! This is Tim. When are you guys free after school to work on this?” The blonde asked. She glanced at the clock. “We only have a few minutes before the end of the period.”

“Conner and I have football practice on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays after school, and Bart has track.” Jaime said, packing up his bag.

“I’ve got swim on Tuesdays.” La’gaan said.

“Well, that’s all the days of the week.” Steph said.

“What about after practice?”

“It ends around seven,” Jaime said chewing on his lower lip. “If someone drives me then I might be able to make it.”

Tim waved a hand. “Not a problem. How about tonight, Thursday, and then same time next week? It’ll only be for an hour or two at most.” He stood up, and pulled out of his phone. “Put your numbers in, I’ll make a group chat.” Bart took the phone first, fingers flying across the screen. Tim hadn’t even said  ‘please.’

Kon bit his lower lip. Entitled brat. He took the phone without complaint though and put his number in.  He passed the phone back to Tim just as the bell rang. “Awesome! See you guys later!” Steph hummed before grabbing Tim by the arm and pulling him out of the class.

Conner honestly had no idea what he expected when he checked his phone after football practice, but a message that simply said: Alfred is in a black car in front of the school wasn’t it.

“Who’s Alfred?” Jaime asked.

Conner shrugged. “Come on.”

They met Bart outside the school. Bart’s bag was gone, probably already in the car. He bounced up and down on his heels. “Dudes.” He said, waving his hands for emphasis. “You have to see this!” Then he sped off and Jaime and Conner exchanged a look before jogging after him.

Bart skidded to a stop in front of a Bentley. An honest to god Bentley.

“Ta-da!” He said, using Jazz Hands to add extra flourish.

A man who must have been in his seventies got out of the car and opened the door in the back for them. He had a British accent and wore a suit. Conner’s jaw dropped open. “You must be Master Tim’s classmates, Mister Allen was telling me you would be along soon.” Conner had known that the Waynes were like, stupid rich, but this was ridiculous.

Yeah, sure, the ‘black car’ in front of the school.

“Woah.” Jaime breathed. Conner agreed, but his exclamation would have been a little more on the inappropriate side.

“You’re Alfred?” Conner asked stupidly. Because… duh.

“That I am, sir.”

Conner, Jaime, and Bart slipped into the back seat. Alfred closed the door behind them and sat in the driver’s seat. “I believe we have one more friend of yours to pick up, yes? A Mister… La’gaan?”

“Yes, sir,” Conner said and shut his gaping mouth, because really Ma had raised his with better manners than that.

“What about Steph?” Bart asked, vibrating in the squishy seat beside Conner and Jaime. The kid seemed to be unable to sit still.

“Miss Brown is already at the Manor.” Alfred said and pulled out of the school parking lot. Conner’s phone dinged and he glanced at it.

Jaime

Alfred picked us up

Tim responded so quickly that Conner was shocked.

Tim

awesome

Steph

see you guys soon :peace sign:

They drop by La’gaan’s place to pick him up and because he’s last he gets the front seat next to Alfred. After that they head to the Waynes’ house. When Conner asked what the address of the house was he received an odd look in the rear-view mirror from Alfred.

“Dude,” Bart said, “it’s Stately Wayne Manor, that’s the address.” Well, then, Conner thought.

He wished Alfred had picked a larger car, he was crushed up against Jaime.

“We have arrived. Master Tim is waiting for you in the library,” he said, opening the door for them. He led them through the doors of the Manor and into the hallway.

Stately Wayne Manor was huge. Absolutely enormous. Conner’s mouth dropped open again against Ma’s better breeding, and he stared as Alfred directed them to the library. Bart was reading Wayne Manor’s Waynipedia page like stats for a weapon in a video game. “-and as for the library, that’s really a misnomer since Wayne Manor has four libraries, and three studies-”

La’gaan opened door to the library. Steph sat on the ground, her back resting against the coffee table. Tim sat across from her, his legs crossed on him. He was scribbling something in his copy of the play. Behind the coffee table was a mobile whiteboard.

“I leave you here, good sirs. Tell me when you are all finished.” Alfred said, and strode back the way they’d came.

Tim looked up when they came in. Steph grinned.

“Welcome!” She crowed. She waved them over.

Conner dropped his bags with the others by the door, digging out his book before heading over to the couch.

“Hi!” Bart sang. He sat on the floor next to her.

As soon as Conner sat on the couch, the cushions bowing under his weight, Tim jumped to his feet and around the table. He took a magnetic marker from the side of the whiteboard.

“Oh great, are we back at school?” La’gaan asked.

Tim gave La’gaan a condescending look and La’gaan flushed. Tim twirled the marker between his fingers. “Okay, I’m sure we’re all busy so let’s get started with parts.” Tim said.

Bossy.

Tim quickly scribbled out all the parts on the whiteboard—Capulet, Romeo, Juliet, Tybalt, Nurse, and Others.

“Others?” Jaime asked, flipping through his own book.

“There are three one line characters in the scene. Remember? Ms. Prince said that we’ll be skipping the first few lines to get to the plot of the scene.” Tim explained.

“Can I take those then?” Jaime asked. Everyone turned to look at him. “I’ve got stage-fright,” he said quietly.

“Sure,” Tim said. He wrote Jaime’s name down on the whiteboard.

“Can I be Tybalt?” Bart asked. “I can carry a sword.” He grinned.

“Sure, Bart is Tybalt. I’ll be Romeo-”

“Why do you get to be Romeo?” Conner asked.

Steph laughed and Tim gave Conner an odd look, like he thought that Conner was an idiot and was amused by him. “Conner, please.” Tim said.

“No, seriously! I’m big and strong, why can’t I be Romeo?”

“’Cuz Tim’s a theater nerd.” Bart argued.

Steph laughed again. “He is!”

Tim rolled his eyes. “I am not.”

“You are!” Steph grinned. “You’re totally a theater nerd!”

“I’m not.” Tim insisted, but his ears were pink. “But yeah, I should be Romeo because I act.”

Steph snickered to Bart, waving a hand daintily. She mimicked Tim’s voice and gave it a large drawl, “he acts.” Bart burst into giggles. Tim ignored them both.

“So? I look the part.” Conner said, bringing them back onto topic.

Tim turned to face him. He crossed his arms over his chest. He wore a black shirt and jeans that, each on their own, probably were worth more than Conner’s car. He was giving Conner that amused and condescending look again. “Come here,” he said.

“What?”

Steph whistled, looking like Christmas had come early. Her eyes flickered between them.

“Come here.” Tim insisted.

Conner stood. “Put down your book,” Tim said. He looked around the library for a second before he motioned to one of those ladders that roll around bookcases so people can reach high shelves. “Sit on the ladder.”

“On the ladder?”

“Just do it.” So Conner sat on the ladder.

Then Tim got down on one knee. Conner ignored the snickering of the others. Tim looked up at him and Conner raised an eyebrow. Was something… supposed to happen?

Then Tim looked up at him. The warm lights of the library illuminated his eyes, making their blue sparkle. Tim’s condescending expression melted, and he looked up at Conner. His eyes fluttered and he looked… awed.

Conner’s heart stuttered in his chest.

“But… soft… what light through yonder window breaks? It is the East, and Juliet is the sun,” Tim whispered. Conner swallowed thickly. Tim’s eyes flickered back and forth, staring at Conner. Through Conner. Taking him in, absorbing him.

“Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon/Who is already sick and pale with grief/That thou her maid art far more fair than she/” his voice had a quiet shock to it, chills went up Conner’s arms, “be not her maid, since she is envious/her vestal livery is but sick and green/and none but fools do wear it. Cast it off./It is my lad; O, it is my love! O that she knew she were!/She speaks, yet she says nothing. What of that?/Her eye discourses; I will answer it.” Tim clutched a hand to his heart, tearing his eyes away from Conner’s, as if it hurt to look away.

He looked embarrassed. “I am too bold; ‘tis not to me she speaks.” He turned to look up at the ceiling. “Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven/having some business, do entreat her eyes/to twinkle in their spheres ‘til they return/what if her eyes were there, they in her head?/The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars,” he sighed, leaning against the ladder, dramatically. He looked back up at Conner wistfully, “as daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven/would through the airy region stream so bright/that birds would sing and think it were not night. See how she leans her cheek upon her hand!” Tim leaned closer to Conner and took his hand in his own. He pressed it close to his lips, as if he were going to kiss it. Tim’s breath tickled Conner’s fingers. He glanced up at Conner again, the words whispered. “O that I were a glove upon that hand, that I might touch that cheek.” He raised a hand, as if to brush it against Conner’s cheek. Tim’s lip quivered.

“That’s-” Conner couldn’t form any other word. There was nothing after ‘that.’

Then Tim stood and shrugged that sensitive facade off, and the asshole was back. “I’m Romeo.” He said simply. Bart began a loud, obnoxious slow clap, and Conner was rudely sucked back into the present, choking on his breath. He stumbled off the ladder.

Steph whooped. “Bravo! Bravo!” The other boys clapped also, though Conner wasn’t even sure if Jaime (who stared at Tim like he’d never seen him before, jaw slightly ajar) was conscious that he was.

“That’s-That’s not our scene.” Conner argued, but his argument fell on deaf ears. The boys stared at Tim with a new sense of awe.

I could do that, Conner thought angrily. Tim preened self-satisfied under the shocked reaction of the others in the group. I could do better than that!

Steph moved on, clearly no longer caring about Tim’s performance. Perhaps she saw it often. She swung her feet up onto the coffee table. “I call the nurse.”

“Why not Juliet?” La’gaan asked.

“Why should I be Juliet? Because I’m a girl?” Steph scoffed. “Capulet is obsessed with a blood feud, Tybalt is an idiot, Romeo and Juliet kill themselves rather than just move to a new city. The nurse is the only rational person in the play.”

“Well, I’m not going to be Juliet.” La’gaan grumbled. “I’m Capulet.”

Tim scribbled the parts down on the board. He turned to Conner. “That makes you Juliet, big guy. You okay with that?”

“My masculinity isn’t threatened.”

“Good thing, Juliet.” Tim said and wrote Conner’s name down.

“Wait! I want a shot.” Conner said stubbornly, arms crossed.

“Huh?” Tim asked mildly, picking up his play.

“You… auditioned for us, right now, to be Romeo. I want a callback.”

“To callback you have to audition first,” Tim corrected and Steph snorted.

“Nerd.”

Tim leveled a glare at her. “I hate you.”

“Give me a shot. I’m not a diva like you-”

Tim huffed, “I’m not a diva.”

“-But give me a week. We meet twice a week for two weeks until the performance, right? Give me a week, and I’ll prove to you that I can be a good Romeo.”

“Being Romeo is more than just being able to say a few poems. Our scene is iconic,” Tim snapped, he gesticulated widely as he spoke, “it’s where Romeo and Juliet meet! If our scene doesn’t land, the whole play means nothing.”

“Dude, it’s just a grade.” Jaime muttered.

“It’s our final project,” Tim said, crossing his arms. “You guys know that Ms. Prince used to do Greek plays and tragedies professionally, you get that right? She’ll have high expectations.”

“And I’ll get us that A,” Conner insisted. “Let me try.”

“I thought you didn’t mind playing Juliet.”

“I don’t.” Conner tried to copy the condescending look that seemed to be a favorite of Tim’s. “Do you?”

Tim’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t take the bait.

It wasn’t a lie, either, Conner didn’t mind. Conner just hated that Tim was better at this than he was. He was Conner Kent. He could out act Tim Drake-Wayne. He knew he could, if he tried. It wasn’t like acting was that hard, right? So you lie, big deal. Anyone could do that. I could do better than that.

Tim’s lips twisted into something that had to be classified as a smirk, but it definitely looked more sinister. “I’m Romeo,” He said simply. He turned back to the whiteboard, Expo in hand.

“I’ll make it worth your while!” Conner said. Last ditch attempt.

“Please, you two,” Steph said, “get a room first.”

Conner made a rude gesture at her that she returned without a glance. Tim just rolled his eyes at her, but he turned back to Conner.

Conner had a foot in the door. He could feel victory in his hands. Conner Kent always got what he wanted.

“Oh?”

“If my Romeo makes you literally go ‘wow’ or ‘woah’ or something of the sort, or I get a majority of at least three,” Conner waved a hand at their other group members.

While La’gaan and Bart looked excited by the idea, Jaime groaned: “Leave me out of it, Ese.”

“-that agree that it was a ‘woah’ moment, I get to be Romeo.” Conner said.

“And when you fail miserably?” Tim asked, arms crossed.

Conner shrugged. He wasn’t going to lose, so whatever he bet was inconsequential. “I buy you a pizza.”

“I’m rich, Kent. I can buy myself a pizza store if I really wanted.”

Bart’s eyes lit up. “Really? Do it! Do it now!”

“I’m not buying a pizza store.” Tim said. Bart deflated, grumbling something to himself.

“Nice try. I give it a five out of ten, would have worked if Tim wasn’t like stupid rich,” Steph said.

“I don’t know, I could get you date with the head cheerleader.”

“Not interested.” Tim said, turning slowly back to the board. “So for theme-”

“Ooh, strike two. So close.”

“Wait!” What on Earth could be something Tim wanted? If it wasn’t money or food based, then all he had left were possibly embarrassing things. Conner watched as Tim tapped his foot, yes literally tapped his foot, against the floor gently, eyes fixed on Conner’s soul. Something embarrassing that would prove that Tim was better than Conner… he’d appreciate that. He was on debate, and members of the debate team always had to be right. “Uh, I’ll let you pick a scene, segment, or play for me to preform blind in front of the entire English class, and you can critique me.” Conner said.

“Ooh, playing on his ego. I like it.” Steph said, grinning. She turned back to Tim, who was still tapping his foot. “Rebuttal?”

Tim was quiet. His face blank.

“Well?” Conner prompted.

Tim brought an index finger up to his lip, tapping against it as he thought. “I’m processing...” Tim mused. “Hmm… Processing… Assessing risk… Weighing pros and cons...”

“Oooh, pros and cons list.” Steph nodded sagely. “He’s really thinking about it.”

“Alright, worth the risk. Proposition accepted.” Tim stuck out his hand, as if they were going to do a business deal.

Conner strode over and slapped his hand into Tim’s. He squeezed slightly, just to see how Tim would react. Conner carefully didn’t cry out when Tim squeezed back, damn was he stronger than Conner too? Now, Conner had the urge to arm wrestle him.

He… may have had some issues. But if it got him the part, who cared.

Tim turned back around to the whiteboard and Conner sat on the arm of the couch, and pulled out his book. La’gaan was giving him an amused look.

“What?”

La’gaan shook his head and laughed. “Just take ‘em out and measure, dude.” He snorted.

Tim said loudly: “anyway.”

“He’s right.” Steph hummed, winking at La’gaan. Bart gave her two thumbs up.

“Anyway,” Tim said, pulling their attention back to him, “theme. I was thinking something that isn’t classic, since almost everyone will be doing classic. I mean with-” and he continued to prattle on animatedly, but Conner was no longer listening. He was too busy studying Romeo’s lines, and daydreaming about how he was possibly going to up what Tim had just done to him. He had a lot of planning to do.

As Thursday drew nearer, Conner practiced and practiced and practiced. He knew his scene backwards and forwards, and was almost ready to be off book. In the showers after football practice, he’d practically sung his lines (much to Gar’s annoyance). For hours on Wednesday he’d sat in front of his mirror and worked on reciting the lines, making different faces while he did to see how they looked on him.

When Alfred swung by the school to pick Conner and Jaime up, Conner felt he had gotten much better. Maybe even Tim level by now, even if he still wasn’t settled on blocking for the scene. They’d decided on a modern view of Romeo and Juliet (but Tim had compromised on Bart’s/Tybalt’s sword). Tim had gone on a tirade about how having two boys be Romeo and Juliet could be a commentary on society or some shit… Conner honestly had been thinking more different reactions Tim would make after Conner blew him out of the water as Romeo. One where his smirking blue eyes would be wide with shock, or as pupil-blown as Conner knew his own were (despite how he really felt about Tim’s obnoxiousness) whenever Tim played Romeo. Or how maybe Tim would whisper ‘wow,’ and his hands would linger on Conner’s.

Maybe Conner would kiss him, the script called for it. Every time the kiss came up in the script during rehersal, Tim inconspicuously would find a way to skip that part. Conner would have been offended if he hadn’t been thinking in those moments about how much better Conner would be as a Romeo.  

Who knew someone with such cutting expressions could be so soft?

Everything that Tim did as Romeo (and apparent director, it seemed, fuck he was bossy) Conner took mental notes on. It would have bothered him less though if Tim wasn’t doing the same—only Tim’s notes weren’t mental. He said them, aloud and self-importantly.

“It’s a poem, Kent,” Tim said. “Our lines are a sonnet. If you don’t say them in time, you miss half of the beauty of it.”

Then Tim proceeded to preform the entire conversation on his own, but all Conner could focus on was how good Tim was as Juliet. (And yeah, the poem thing when done right was really cool. Conner spent the rest of that meeting practicing his timing, because if they could pull that off for the play, they’d get an A straight off, even if everything else went wrong.)

“Wow,” Bart said as the boys sat in the car on the way back to their houses. “Tim is really bossy. Who would have thought?”

“Right?” La’gaan said. “I thought you would totally blow your lid,” he said to Conner. “I would.”

“He’s a theater kid, guys. Of course, he’s bossy when it comes to this project.”

“And it’s not like you help with that,” Jaime teased, nudging Conner’s shoulder, “you keep egging him on.”

“Whatever I do or say is an appropriate reaction to his pretentiousness.” Conner argued. Alfred pulled the car up to Ma and Pa’s and Conner opened the door.

“Oh? Is that what we’re calling it now?” Bart asked. Jaime and La’gaan shared a grin.

Conner didn’t get it. “What do you mean?”

The others shook their heads, exasperatedly. “Never mind, Juliet.” Jaime sighed. “See you tomorrow.” He closed the door behind Conner and the Bentley sped off.

Conner was invited four different times to the party at Wayne Manor on Friday night, and not once was by Tim (although one invitation was from a Wayne). Tim’s older sister invited Conner and the rest of Tim’s English class, as well as half the school. Cassie insisted that Conner went with her so she wouldn’t be going alone. Steph demanded that their English group come to make fun of Tim. And, as a football player, Conner was also invited by the Senor members of the team—whether or not any of them had a formal invitation, Conner wasn’t sure, but either way he counted it.

Friday night came, and Conner, as well as half the school, showed up at Stately Wayne Manor to trash it.

The party was much like any other party that Conner had gone to. There were those who went because their friends did, those who went to get wasted and out of their house, and those who weren’t invited but it was a party, so of course they were coming. Conner himself had no idea why there was a party, but when he finally arrived it was clearly well underway.  

Cassie was called over as soon as the two of them passed the threshold by Cissie King-Jones. She shot Conner an apologetic look (with the volume of the music there was no way they could hear each other), and he waved her off and pointed to his teammates. He’d just hang out with them. She blew him a kiss and pushed through the crowd of teenagers.

After a game of beer pong that Conner, of course, slayed, he grabbed his second beer from the kitchen and headed upstairs. With all the extra practicing for the group project, plus other school work and sports training, Conner was lacking some sleep. Today, he hadn’t drunk anything other than Red Bull and the beers from the party. His head pounded, and the music was definitely going to give him a migraine. He couldn’t leave yet, it was still too early and Cassie was his ride anyway. Thank god she’d volunteered to be designated driver.

Conner realized, as he climbed the stairs and the thrumming of the music quieted, that he’d never been anywhere but the first floor of the manor. Wayne Manor loomed around him. The hallways were lined with paintings and sculptures. None of the rooms were labeled, and most were locked when he tried them.

Conner took a swig of his beer. It buzzed through him gently, easing the pounding in his head. Conner came to a fork in the halls and picked one at random. He continued walking.

The painting shouldn’t have surprised him or made him stop, because he knew, theoretically, that this house was probably full of old oil paintings like this. But, this one was different than the expensive landscapes and modernist art that had lined the halls before them. This painting was a family portrait.

Conner took another sip.

In it, Tim looked exactly like he did now, though perhaps a little younger—he was maybe fourteen. His younger siblings, or… the people Conner thought were Tim’s younger siblings with that weird amalgam of children in the Wayne family, clearly hadn’t been adopted yet. But his sister was. She slung her arm over Tim’s shoulder, positioned to his left. She was giving the painter a light closed-mouth smile. Between her and Tim stood an older man that had to be the Bruce Wayne himself.

Hmm… Conner mused, his unoccupied hand drifted up to run his fingers across the bottom of the frame. Bruce Wayne looked… different than Conner usually saw him online and in the pictures used in Lois’ articles. Softer. Less aloof. More like a father. Next to him, framing the other half of the picture was a young man who was definitely Dick Grayson. He rested one hand on Tim’s shoulder. One of Bruce’s arms slung across Dick’s shoulders. Both of them were giving smiles—Bruce’s looked like it was straight out of a stock photo. Dick’s was stupidly large, all encompassing and completely awe-inspiring. Looking at him, Conner felt a stupid grin spread across his own face.

But Tim wasn’t smiling at all.

Something about it made Conner clench his beer harder and take another sip.

Conner turned away, and continued along the hallway. He turned a corner and ran right into Stephanie Brown.

“Sorry.” Conner mumbled. “You alright?”

“Huh?” Steph asked, looking up at Conner. “Oh, hi Conner. Yeah,” she pulled her hair up into a purple scrunchie, “I’m fine. What’re you doing here?”

“It’s a party.”

“Uh, the party is downstairs.” Steph said, pointing down to the ground. Conner looked at his feet, as if he could see through the floor. Steph laughed. “But maybe you can help me with something else.”

“Oh?”

Steph hooked a finger behind her. “I’m going to have fun, but Tim’s being a party pooper and won’t come down. Convince him to loosen up a little, chill?” Steph asked. She patted Conner on the shoulder as if he’d already agreed, which Conner was pretty sure he hadn’t (and he wasn’t drunk yet, so saying things he wasn’t aware he was saying wasn’t a probability), then she skipped passed him.

Conner drank some more liquid courage, and turned the corner.

Tim’s door was open, and his room was empty, well, of people at least.

Conner surveyed the room. It was as large as Lois and Clark’s apartment in Metropolis. It was also a complete mess, clothes and books and video games scattered across the room. Huh. Who would have thought. Conner had a strange urge to check under Tim’s bed for porn, see if he was a real boy.

On Conner’s left he could see a half open bathroom door, and another door that was closed. Conner wasn’t sure if it was another room or a walk-in closet of some type. Other than that, what could it be?

A cold breeze drifted through the room. Conner’s cheeks burned from the booze in his veins.

Steph had said that Tim was in here, but it didn’t look like he was… unless… Conner walked over to the open window and poked his head out.

Tim Drake-Wayne sat on his roof, arms wrapped around his knees. He stared down at the ground below, which, Conner stood on his tiptoes, overlooked the parking lot. People danced and sang and hooted below.

“Hi there,��� Conner said.

Tim turned his head. “What’re you doing here?”

“I was invited. You?”

Tim narrowed his eyes.

Now, there was the pretentious-robot Conner knew and hated.

Conner shakily climbed out onto the roof. He sat next to Tim and leaned forward a little to watch the buzzed teens below. “Learning normal teenage habits to imitate and then scoff at?” Conner asked. He took another sip and wobbled (less from the booze and more from the precarious position he sat in). Tim’s arm whipped out and grabbed Conner’s forearm to steady him. Conner flashed him a smile in thanks.

Tim dropped Conner’s arm and curled back up over his knees. “Did Steph send you? I’m not going down there.”

“How dare you! Of course not!” Conner paused, and Tim gave him that infuriating expression that clearly said he didn’t believe him. “I was enlisted after I had already left the party.”

Tim didn’t reply. Another breeze fluttered passed them and Conner watched Tim not move, not even shiver a little.

Perhaps robot wasn’t the right word. It needed something more pretentious, like a statue. One of those great, large pale Roman ones that were missing arms and you could see every sinew and muscle in, but were frozen in time.

Except, of course, that Tim was dressed.

“Aren’t you cold?” Conner asked, nodding to him.

Tim looked down at his clothes. He wore a black button up over slacks, like a true grown-up pretending to be a child. Tim shrugged.

“Are you?”

Conner shook his head. He drank some more beer. Tim’s eyes followed his hand, then went sharply back to people-watching. Conner shrugged off his leather jacket and held it out to Tim. Tim’s eyes flickered back to Conner, surprise cracking his cynical facade. Then his gaze fell to Conner’s chest.

“My eyes are up here.” Conner told him, waving the jacket in Tim’s direction.

In the dim light of the room and what drifted up from the parking lot below, he watched as Tim flushed. Or, Conner thought he was flushed. He wasn’t sure.

“Sorry.” Tim mumbled. “It’s just… your shirt.”

“What about it?”

Tim was definitely blushing now. “It’s… y’know. Cool.”

Conner wasn’t even sure what shirt he was wearing. He glanced down. It was a Wendy the Werewolf Stalker shirt with a picture of Seraph on it and a quote of his.

“You like Wendy? You?”

Tim frowned. “Why shouldn’t I? It’s fun.”

“It’s just… not… y’know.”

“What?” Tim quirked an eyebrow, and Conner got that feeling he got so often, like Tim was laughing at him.

“Stuck-up.”

Then Tim really did laugh. Or, chuckle, but that was close.

“No big soliloquies, and… I mean the deepest shit in there is the metaphor for growing up, which really is undercut by the episode where Wendy worked at a doggy day care that actually was for werewolves.”

Tim chuckled again. “Dog Days.” He said.

Conner was pleasantly surprised that Tim even knew the episode name. “Yeah.”

“Well,” Tim shrugged sheepishly, “you know all those speeches and analyses on Romeo and Juliet? They’re not mine.”

“They’re not?”

“No, they’re my brother’s, Jason. He gave me a rundown on the scene before you guys showed up, and that thing about a gay modern Romeo and Juliet, that’s all shit he lectured us on at dinner Wednesday night.”

Conner frowned, lip of the beer bottle halfway in his mouth. “Wait, is that why Steph couldn’t stop giggling?”

Tim laughed. Really, big, belly laugh. “Yeah.” He sighed, and leaned back against the roof, staring up at the sky. Conner lay back next to him. In Gotham there were no stars, barely even the two or three Conner got in Metropolis when he stayed with Clark and Lois. An airplane flew passed, blinking through the dusty clouds.

“I like… I like Wendy, and Enya, and video games. You know?” Tim said. “All this… Shakespeare and, I don’t know, honors English class and sweater-vests,”

“God, do you have sweater-vests?”

Tim ignored him, “and slacks and blazers and whatever. It’s not really me. It’s Tim Drake-Wayne. Not… Tim Drake.”

And for the first time, Conner realized that Tim didn’t used to be a Wayne. He was a… Drake, also. Whatever that was.

“Then why do you… do that?”

“Do what?”

“Treat everyone else like they’re below you. Lie. Be a pretentious asshole.” Conner’s tongue felt a little numb. He pulled his leather jacket into his lap.

Tim’s hand found his—his fingers were freezing and Conner winced, but didn’t pull away. Tim took Conner’s beer from him and brought it to his own lips, upending the bottle in his own mouth. Tim wiped the remnants from his lips with the back of his hand.

“Because it’s easy,” Tim said. He burped and Conner snickered even though it wasn’t very funny. His head was pounding again. “Because I’m good at it.”

“You’re not that good-” Conner tried to argue, but he knew that it was just macho posturing. That was what Conner was good at, what propelled him through his days, being better than everyone else.

“Conner, please.”

“Yeah,” Conner agreed. “So… that’s why you act? Because it’s easy?”

Tim shrugged. “Yeah. Pretty much. Why? Why do you do it?”

Conner shrugged also. “I don’t know. Because I want to beat you.”

“Really?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, nothing against you, it’s just that, you know, I’m Conner Kent.”

“Oh, I’m aware.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, just-you know.” Tim’s voice got quieter. He waved a hand vaguely. “You’re Conner Kent. Quarterback of the football team, popular kid, Ultimate Jock, part of Model U.N. and…” Tim’s voice trailed off. “just the Best at Everything.” Neither of them said anything and then Tim added, almost whispered: “I didn’t get mad at you calling me pretentious, you can’t get mad at me for this.”

Conner snorted, but didn’t say anything else. He turned. Tim stared up at the sky, watching the dusky clouds drift slowly across the night. His eyes were dark in the dim light, but his skin was ghostly pale. Conner sat up and reached to pull off his shirt. Tim watched curiously, giving him that so hated Look.

Conner wondered if Tim even knew he was doing it.

“Ask me to dinner first, why don’t you?”

Conner handed it over to Tim, immediately realizing what a stupid idea it was. It was freezing outside, and Conner’s nipples seemed to be trying to make sure that Tim knew that. Conner pulled his leather jacket back over his shoulders. “It’s for you.”

“Gross.” Tim said.

Conner rolled his eyes. He was already this far in. “You know, so you don’t have to lie, you know, if you don’t want.”

Tim snorted. “Are you drunk?”

“No, I’m just being dramatic.” And stupid. This was really dumb.

Tim laughed. He took the shirt from Conner, curling his hands in it, running his thumb over the faded image on the front. “Gross.” He repeated, but he didn’t hand it back. Instead, he looked at Conner, in that same assessing way he had when he’d agreed to the stupid Romeo bet. “You should probably head home. Do you have a designated driver?”

“Yeah, no need to call the butler.”

Tim wrinkled his nose, but he didn’t reply to that, “who?”

“Cassie Sandsmark. You know her?”

“Kick-boxer? Blonde,” Tim sat up and tapped a finger against his lower lip. “Yeah, she has a mean right hook.”

“Mean right hook?”

“We do Krav Maga together.”

Of course, Tim did. “Do you have a black belt in that?”

Tim gave him the Look. “You don’t get black belts in Krav Maga, but… yeah, essentially, something like that.” Conner laughed sardonically. Of course.

“Steph totally has a thing for her.” Tim added.

“Steph? I thought, you two were… you know.” Conner wasn’t quite sure how to say it so he crossed his fingers.

Tim snickered. Conner felt himself flush and Tim laughed harder. So that wasn’t so bad. “Nah, she’s more of a Juliet girl, if you know what I mean.”

“Ah… If it matters, Cassie is too.”

Tim didn’t look surprised but he smiled back. “I’ll let her know. In a slightly less tragic metaphor.”

Conner shook his head. A breeze blew by, but he wasn’t very cold anymore. He zipped up the leather jacket, his cheeks burning.

“What about you?” Tim asked.

“Huh?”

“Romeo or Juliet?”

Conner wasn’t sure if he was blushing, but he felt like he was. He shrugged it off, like it was just the booze and cold. “Romeo. You?”

“A little bit of both.” Tim murmured. His eyes, lit by the little light of the his bedroom. Blue, a vibrant, violent, piercing blue.

“Uh. Yeah.” Something came back to him. “Uh, speaking of which, I um, I mean I came in here in the first place because Steph told me to convince you to come down to the party. I-I should probably be heading back down, anyway.”

“Right. Yeah.” Tim shook his head, and coughed. “Yeah, definitely. And,” Tim waved the empty beer bottle at Conner, “to get a refill.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Conner said, but, he thought as he headed back out of the room, he had probably had enough.

Conner was halfway down the hall when he realized Tim hadn’t come out with him. He went back and poked his head into Tim’s bedroom. “You coming?” He asked.

Tim grinned. “Yeah, let’s go.” He walked passed Conner and out of his room, and Conner stared at him. Or, more accurately, stared at his shirt as it hung from Tim’s shoulders, a little bit too big, but not hugely. Almost, just almost, an okay fit.

Monday came too fast, or maybe not really fast enough. Ma and Pa didn’t ask about the shirt which disappeared before the weekend. Conner wasn’t sure if they noticed. But he didn’t bring it up, just in case.

The ride over to Tim’s house was a lot quieter than Conner remembered the other two being. He knew that Bart was pointedly not mentioning the… upcoming audition. Jaime and La’gaan kept up the conversation expertly. Conner was sure they were in on it, too. It was nice of them. He felt weird. Conner usually wasn’t worried about these types of things, but right now he couldn’t stop his hands from sweating. There was a rush in his ears. Every sound and touch grated on his nerves. Conner was anxious. He really wanted this to be good. He really wanted to impress Tim. Or beat him. Whatever.

Alfred finally pulled up to the Manor and Conner and the others went to the library to meet Steph and Tim. Conner was the last through the door, and subsequently the last to see that their group weren’t the only ones in the room. Tim’s sister sat on the couch, munching merrily on popcorn which resided in an enormous bowl on her lap. Steph sat next to her, shoes kicked off and purple socked feet intertwined with the sister’s (why couldn’t Conner remember her name…?). She dug her hand into the bowl of popcorn and shoved it into her mouth.

“Connermph!” She called around her food. She swallowed noisily and Bart sat down on the other side of the sister, popping some popcorn in his mouth. “Ready?”  

“You clearly are.” Conner nodded to them, pointedly.

The sister grinned. “I wanted to see,” She said gleefully. Tim stuck his tongue out at her, and she just grinned back.

“Do it, do it, do it.” Bart chanted. La’gaan, Steph, and the sister picked it up too. Conner shrugged off his bag and placed it by the table.

“Guys, cut it out,” Tim said to no avail. “Sorry, Conner.”

Conner shrugged. “Fine, just chill a sec, okay?” He called to them, which was met with cheers from La’gaan. Bart pulled out a glittery handmade sign that said GO CONNER! on it and was filled with tons of Valentine’s day stickers.

Conner must have given him a strange look because Bart shrugged and said by way of explantion, “there wasn’t really anything Romeo and Juliet themed for some reason. This was as close as I could get.”

“Perhaps because they die at the end of the play,” Tim said wryly. Bart took this idea under consideration.  

The sister’s eyes widened and she gasped. “They do?”

“Oh, sorry Cass. Yeah, they die.” Tim said.

“Did you really not know that?” Conner asked, surprised.

Cass—right! That was the sister’s name! How could Conner have forgotten that?—shook her head. “I’ve never seen it before.” She said. Steph bet over and whispered something to her. Cass nodded solemnly.

Tim took Conner by the arm. “Do you really want to do this?”

“What? Nervous?” Conner gave Tim what Conner knew was a shit-eating grin.

“Please,” Tim gave him that Look.

That was all the boost Conner needed, all his anxiety was gone now, only the overwhelming urge to wipe that look off Tim’s face remained.

“Alright. I’m going to need you to follow my lead.” Conner said. “Think you can do that? Just ‘yes, and.’”

“Yes, and,” Tim repeated dutifully in a totally infuriating tone.

Conner whispered the blocking into Tim’s ear, ignoring the looks they were getting from the others. Tim thought for a minute, processed, and then nodded. “Let’s go.” Tim said, and got into his place.

Conner cleared his throat, and looked up at Tim. Tim Drake-Wayne. Juliet.

Juliet, who stood there in all her beauty. Juliet, who Romeo desperately wanted to get into the pants of.

Tim stood with his back to Conner and Conner placed his hand gently on Tim’s shoulder before turning him around. “If I profane with my unworthiest hand/this holy shrine, the gentle sin is this/” he leaned closer to Tim, brushing his other hand over Tim’s cheekbone. Tim’s brilliant blue eyes went wide, and an innocent look spread across his features. “my lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand/to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.” Conner leaned in and watched Tim’s patented Look crawl onto his face.

Tim pulled back, smirking. He shrugged Conner away, and Conner made it hurt himself. Made his features twist into those of pain. Made that sharp tug in his belly.

It was for the act.

“Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much/” Tim shrugged, looking back at Conner with a wicked grin that ruined his Look, but also made it so much better, “which mannerly devotion shows in this:/for saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch/” Tim took Conner’s hand that had touched his cheek, running his own fingers through Conner’s. Conner caught his breath. “And palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss.” Then Tim dropped it and crossed his arms.

“Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?” Conner asked with a shrug, reaching out for Tim yet again, but Tim pulled away. ‘Yes, and.’

“Ay, pilgrim,” Tim teased, tapping against Conner’s mouth gently, “lips that they must use in pray’r.” Then he turned, as if that was the end of the conversation.  

Conner grinned and caught Tim’s own hand, which flew out as he turned flamboyantly. He brought it to his face, in a mockery of what Tim had done during his own audition, just millimeters away from his lips. Tim’s fingers twitched in his own. Conner looked up at him through his lashes.

“O then, dear saint,” he fell to one knee before Tim, keeping Tim’s hand in his own, “let lips do what hands do/” Tim took his hand away with a snort, blue eyes electric. “They pray—grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.”

Tim took Conner’s offered hand, up to his Juliet as if in worship, and pulled Conner to his feet. “Saints do not move, though grant for prayers’ sake.”

But when he turned away yet again, Conner seized his chance and pulled him in close, almost in a twirl. Until they were chest to chest, faces just inches away from one another. Tim was breathing heavily.

“Then move not while my prayer’s effect I take/Thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purg’d.” And with that, Conner closed the distance between them and kissed Tim. It was a chaste kiss, an easy one. Gently pressing lips together, more a tease than anything else. Then he let Tim fall away.

Hungry, electric blue eyes stared into his soul as Tim took a step back. His hand drifted to his mouth. “Then…” he paused for a moment, “have my lips the sin that they have took.”

Conner grinned at him, and Tim’s pupils blew a little wider. ‘Yes, and,’ huh? Tim said that acting—lying—was easy, that was why he did it. Conner didn’t know about easy, but it was certainly fun. “Sin from my lips? O trespass sweetly urg’d!/” He reeled Tim back in until they were once against close enough to feel each other breathe. “Give me my sin again.”

Conner kissed Tim again. A real, hard, hungry kiss. One Romeo would have given Juliet. Then he stopped and leaned back, over-exaggerating the heaving of his chest. Tim did the same, those eyes never leaving Conner’s.

Conner waited. Tim’s hand clenched Conner’s shirt, and Tim swallowed thickly.

“Line?” Conner prompted him.

Tim blinked. “Huh?”

“Tim. It’s your line.”

Those blue eyes confused and… Tim shook his head and backed away. “Uh...” Tim bit his lower lip, usually pale skin pink. “You…uh… You…” Tim shook his head again, “Bart?”

“What?” Bart’s voice rasped, uncharacteristically.

“Line, Bart.”

Bart scrambled for his play but Conner knew the line, since usually it was his.

“You kiss by th’ book.” Conner told Tim.

“You kiss by th’ book.” Tim repeated dully. There was a crushing silence and Tim ran his fingers through his hair. Conner knew everyone was staring at Tim. Cass, Steph, and Bart’s munching had stopped. Had probably been stopped for a while, Conner realized. He hadn’t even noticed, he’d been too absorbed in the scene. Conner shot a glance at them. The others, all of them, sat with their mouths open. Gaping at Conner and Tim.

What the fuck was wrong with Tim?

Tim whirled on Conner. The electricity came back to those piercing blue eyes and he pointed accusingly at Conner. “You cannot do that in front of our parents.” He said, voice shaky.

Conner wasn’t sure what he’d done.

La’gaan was the next to speak. “Well, I’m gonna say that you won, Conner. That’s… totally a wow scene.”

Jaime swore in Spanish.

Conner glanced back at them (mainly because the longer he stared at Tim the hotter he felt his cheeks becoming) and saw that Bart held a notebook over his head which was decorating in glitter gel ink: WOW.  

Wait, did that mean-? Had Conner won?

“So… do I get to be Romeo?”

Tim began laughing a little bit hysterically, and then everyone was. Even Conner, though he wasn’t really sure why. “Yeah, sure, why not,” Tim said, but his voice and face slipped back to normal (infuriating). He gave Conner a pink-cheeked grin. “But we’re definitely working on the blocking for that scene.”

“What? You don’t want Conner to jump you in the middle of the play?” Steph giggled. Tim rolled his eyes at her, but Steph hopped to her feet and slid across the room in her socks.

“I wasn’t-”

“Dude, it was like, I know you’re Romeo and Juliet but get a room.” Bart agreed.

A blush rose in Conner’s cheeks. “I wasn’t-!”

But Tim ended the conversation with a snort and a shake of his head as he shifted into director mode. “Alright everyone, places. Let’s take it from the top.”

Ma was way more excited for the play than Conner was. He picked up his phone after football practice and was greeted with seven different messages that seemed to be a bunch of cancellations and ramblings. Ma wanted to know if she should bring a pie for a treat. Would he be hungry between practice and the play, after all they had about a thirty minute wait between. What foods were best for actors? Should she bring him a present for after he was done? Never mind, Conner, Pa had figured it all out. Ignore everything she’d sent. She would see him soon, and she loved him.

Tim was waiting in the locker room when Conner and Jaime made it out of the showers. He was curled up on the metal locker room bench, texting on his phone. He held their costumes in his hands and tossed the clothes to them. “Ms. Prince wants to do one more rehearsal before the parents get here.” He told them. “Also, film club is filming it for some school… spirit… yearbook… something, I don’t know. But, you’ll both need make-up for camera.”

Jaime groaned and pulled his costume on. His was the least inconspicuous of everyone else’s since he would be playing a handful of characters.

To separate between Capulets and Montagues they’d decided that they would have them wear different colored clothes. All Capulets wore red and black, and Montagues wore red, yellow, and blue. (Tim had said something about how the two reds would be symbolism of how similar the two families were despite their perceived differences, which Steph had giggled the entire way through. Conner couldn’t stifle his own laughter now that he knew that the clothes were probably Jason’s idea.)

Tim did Jaime and Conner’s make-up—simple blush so they would show up on camera and eyeliner and mascara. Then they were off.

Conner was shocked by how smooth the play went considering how anxious Ms. Prince was. Conner and his group were the second scene up, since they were doing an abridged version. It went flawlessly. Jaime didn’t forget any of his lines, Bart didn’t hurt anyone when he swung around his sword flamboyantly. La’gaan was regal and serious for once. Conner was pretty seductive if he said so himself. He didn’t kiss Tim on the lips, they’d decided to trade the kisses for a kiss on the hand (which really didn’t make sense with the script but, Conner supposed, they were being censored by the school and strictly ironic PG rating for the kids in the audience), and another on the cheek. Then came Steph’s act as the nurse, and her foreboding warning which she delivered perfectly.

The rest of the play went pretty well. Cassie’s death scene as Mercutio was touching, and Courtney and Maxine as the final Romeo and Juliet were stunning. The balcony could have been done better, Conner thought though when that group went up. Tim had been a much more convincing love-struck Romeo for sure.

After the play was over, Ma and Pa came running up to Conner to congratulate him. He was shocked to see Clark and Lois behind them, their son wasn’t with them though. Clark beamed, but let Ma do the gushing.

“That was fabulous, Conner! Very realistic!” She insisted. She had six de-thorned roses in her arms (that Conner knew were from her own garden) wrapped in a red ribbon. She undid the ribbon and handed one to Conner.

Conner felt himself turn red. “Aw, Ma...”

“You deserve it, young man!” Pa said curtly. Ma stood on her tiptoes to see over the crowds of other parents.

“Where are your castmates? I picked one for everyone!” Ma said.

Conner frowned. After the play had ended, the class had been rushed by parents and friends. He wasn’t sure. He spotted Bart and his Uncle Max over by the stage. “Over there.” Conner said pointing.

Ma handed a couple of roses to Conner. “Here, honey. Would you mind helping me hand them out?”

Conner smiled. “Sure thing, Ma.” He stuck his own behind his ear. “I’ll meet up with you guys in a little?” He asked Clark and Lois. Maybe he was being too hopeful.

“Of course, Stud.” Lois grinned, bumping his shoulder with hers. They were level in height now. “We’re taking you to dinner. Jon’s sorry he couldn’t make it, but bedtime is bedtime.”

“I get it, it’s fine.” Conner shrugged it off. He was just happy that he got to see Clark and Lois. Metropolis was far enough that they’d probably had to take off both today and tomorrow to get back. “Text me if I’m not back soon.”

“Sure thing,” Lois smiled at him. Conner really liked Lois. Totally out of Clark’s league.

Conner jogged off to find his group mates. He climbed up on the stage and scanned it but couldn’t find Tim or Steph. He did see Ma hit La’gaan and then start looking for Jaime. Conner decided he’d head for the missing two.

Now that he looked, he couldn’t find any of the Waynes. He took out his phone.

Conner

hey did yall leave yet?

Steph

sorry cowboy

Conner tried Tim.

Tim

I’m by the lockers. Forgot my history homework.

Conner

stay there

Tim

…

Why?

Conner

just trust me dude

Conner headed out to the lockers. He found Tim leaning against his, bag slung over one shoulder.

“Took you long enough,” Tim said.

Conner was used to Tim’s wicked smirk, or, he’d thought he was, but something weird happened to his belly as he saw Tim pull himself upright.

Tim’s eyes took in the flower behind Conner’s ear, and then the one in his hand. His eyes widened. He looked speechless.

Second time Conner had done that to him. Conner’s heart sped up and he felt himself smile giddily. He liked making Tim speechless.

Conner bowed and presented the rose to Tim. “For you, fair maiden.” He said.

When Conner looked up again, Tim’s face was pink. He brushed some of his long hair behind his ear and took the rose gently. As if he were afraid he’d break it. His hand shook.

“It’s from my grandmother,” Conner explained, “she wanted to give one to everyone in the group. Steph already left though, I’ll have to give her hers tomorrow.”

“Oh,” Tim said. “Tell her I say thank you.”

“Sure thing, dude.”

Tim stared at the rose, running some of his fingers over the petals. He raised it to his lips—no, that was stupid. His nose.

Why had Conner thought that?

His heart thumped loudly in chest.

“You know, it’s too bad.”

Tim looked up to meet Conner’s eyes again. “What is?”

“This… that it’s over. This was fun.”

Tim smiled. “Yeah, it was. You know, we always have room in the theater club-”

Conner laughed and pushed Tim gently. “Yeah, no thanks. You know what they say about theater kids.”

“Oh?” Tim asked amusedly. His attention, however, was back on the rose. He pressed it back to his nose, inhaling deeply. “What do they say?”

“They teach all y’all how to project, but they never teach y’all how to shut the fuck up.” Maybe that was why Conner liked seeing Tim speechless so often.

Tim laughed. “Well, don’t get me started on what they say about football players.”

Conner snorted. “Yeah, I guess you would win on that one.”

Tim’s eyes slid over to Conner’s slyly. “Is everything a game to you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, banter, this play… you’re a good actor,” Tim mused, “you should have bargained higher.”

“Huh?”

“Well, the bet, that you won.”

“The one that made me Romeo?” Conner wasn’t sure where Tim was going with this. Tim twirled the rose between his fingers. “I’m aware of it. What? You think I should have haggled?”

Tim shrugged. “You were Romeo for a week and a half. Was it really worth it?”

“Are you kidding? I just wanted to get Romeo,” Conner shrugged, “and I got what I wanted. I always do.”

“Do you now?”

“Mmhm.” Conner grinned at Tim. Tim’s eyes were narrowed, his lips upturned into what was definitely a smirk. One black eyebrow quirked. Amused and condescending. Conner was beginning to like this Tim just as much as the blushing and speechless one. “I am Conner Kent,” he said as pompously as he could manage.

“Hmm. You know,” Tim said mildly. He put his own rose behind his ear. “I’m pretty used to getting whatever I want too. Pretentious and rich and all.”

“Really?” Conner asked, trying to make the excitement in his tone not show through. Tim was a better actor than Conner was. Conner would just have to learn from him, he supposed. He tried to match Tim’s indifference. “You got something in mind?”

“What are you doing tonight?”

This… was not where Conner had thought this conversation was going, but when he saw the sparkle in Tim’s playful blue eyes… Conner couldn’t help but be intrigued. But-

Lois. Clark. Ma and Pa.

“Shit.” Conner hissed. Tim looked shocked at this sudden change of tone. “I would. I totally would, but I’ve got this huge like, family dinner thing.”

Tim shrugged. “Friday night, then.” This time Tim was a little shyer about it, as if worried that Conner might say ‘no’ now.

Conner smiled. “Sure. Text me the details.”

Tim smiled back. “Yeah, okay.”

Conner turned to talk away, but as he did Tim caught his hand and pulled him back against him. Then Tim kissed him, fingers curling around his neck to bring Conner in closer and stroking the hair beside the rose in Conner’s hair. Conner tightened his grip around Tim’s waist, pulling him closer than they ever were as Romeo and Juliet. And tongue. Oh god, there was finally tongue. Tim tasted like peppermint and he was a really good kisser and-

When Tim finally broke the kiss (because it was Tim who broke it, not Conner who was too busy forgetting about the outside world) with a laugh, Conner heaved in air. Tim leaned on the lockers to support himself as he giggled.  

“What?”

“The Conner Kent, and The Tim Drake-Wayne,” Tim said. “It’s just, I think we might be what Steph would call a ‘power couple.’”

Now Conner was laughing too, but that was probably more because Tim was infectious than any hilarity. “Like Romeo and Juliet.”

Tim rolled his eyes and, still snickering, pushed himself upright. “A little less tragic though, I hope.”

“It’s funny,” Conner said, “how many teenagers do you think got together because of this play? Ironic, really. I feel Shakesy-P would be proud.”

Tim snorted. “Please never call Shakespeare that again.”

“Shakesy-P, Shakes-P, Shakesy-P-”

“And now I know why Romeo really died, it was because Juliet killed him.” Tim pushed Conner, teasingly.

“Well, if you want to get technical about it-” But Tim was pulling Conner in for another kiss.

“Shut up.” Tim told him.

After another kiss that made Conner go ‘wow,’ Conner pulled away, his phone buzzed in his pocket. “You’re so bossy.”

“And I always get what I want.” Tim added condescendingly.

“I haven’t forgotten. You’re also pretentious, and condescending, and-”

“Do you really want to go down this path, Kent?”

Conner pressed his lips to Tim’s for one last kiss, but broke it off far too early because of his fucking phone-

Conner took it out and checked it, even though he knew what the texts would say. “I have to go.”

“Your family. Yeah,” Tim said, a wry twist to his lips, “I haven’t forgotten.”

“Friday. Text me.”

“Will do, Juliet.” Tim called, saluting Conner with the gifted rose and Conner jogged away, laughing and red-faced.

Clark and Lois were staying over with Ma and Pa for the night so they all headed to the house after dinner. Conner was tired and full and happy, but he kept his eyes open the whole ride, waiting for Tim’s text. But it got later and later and there was little Conner could do, so he changed into pajamas and headed to bed.

The text finally came a little after midnight. Conner jerked up when he heard the chime of the text, half asleep.

Tim

You kiss by th’ book.

Sleep tight

Conner snorted and rolled over in his bed. Had to give it to Shakesy-P, he certainly knew how to write a pick-up line.

[shikai-the-storyteller]

Homestretch....the final Cyberverse episodes... :’(

Season 3: Episodes 21 - 26

Episode 21

Ok so before we start, I gotta fess up and say I got spoiled for something because Twitter Sucks, so I know Tarn is in this series. Here are my predictions about that: 

Megatron said he rescued Astrotrain from a tyrant. I thought he meant an Alt!Universe version of him, but now that I know This Bastard is gonna be in it, I’m guessing it’s Tarn

If Megatron DID save Astrotrain from Tarn, it’d be hilarious if Tarn & co. weren’t actually planning to kill Astrotrain, they were just using him as transport, in which case Megatron essentially car-jacked (train-jacked?) them.

As much as I rag on Tarn and the DJD I actually do genuinely love the idea of an Autobot + Decepticon teamup against the DJD THAT WOULD BE SO FRICKIN COOL....

Anyways, on to the episode!

Pics taken 10 seconds before disaster, rip Cosmos.

MEDIA BOT and Cosmos! :D GOSH COSMOS REALLY IS CONFIRMED FOR BABY THAT”S ADORABLE.....I’m so glad he’s finally back in a cartoon

OH WHOOPS I FORGOT WINDBLADE WAS FRICKIN DEAD (ish)

LUNA 3???

The “FORBIDDEN” moon? 

Chromia: You can go there anyways! Bee: Huh?  Chromia: When have the rules ever stopped you before? Bee: Fair point

BRO WHY DO YOU HAVE A TOY OF SQUIDSCREAM

aw I love all those photos of him and cosmos, that’s cute

Oh no did he quit the business because he lost Cosmos???

METEOR-FIRE what a cool name

I like this dude a lot

I love that he’s obviously depressed about losing his partner but immediately gets convinced to go break into Luna 3 lmao

HE’S GOT CUTE CAMERAS WITH HIM I love that

LMAO I was gonna say “Wow you just flip the switches alright” THEN HE JUST RIPS THE CORDS OUT I love this guy

Hmm suspicious

Aw I love the space-shots of Cybertron, what a gorgeous planet....

Oh hello cannon-fodder #418

SHOCKWAVE SHOCKWAVE SHOCKWAVE!!!!!

IT”S THE GRUDGE LMAO

It’s probably a sim that shows you the scariest thing you can think of

BLURR!!! AW THAT’S SO SAD

Ok I take it back, it’s probably like MTMTE’s “Cyberutopia” thing where it reads your memory files

Watch the cameras Bee!!!

“Bee, I don’t mean to alarm you, but the alien presence has taken over my circuits” *HEAD DOES A 180* GOSH I LOVE THIS FRICKIN SHOW

The facial expressions in this show are SO FUN Bee’s so expressive I love that

I like that Meteor-Fire is so chill about this, this ain’t his first rodeo

He just snaps his neck back into place that’s so freaky and they play it off so well lol

PRETTY SPACE BALL???? PRETTY SPACE BALL!!! HEY HASBRO CAN YOU MAKE A TOY OF THIS I WANT IT!!!!!!

Gosh I’d legit buy a gem like this if it had constellations engraved on it THAT’S SO PRETTY I LOVE IT

It’s a good thing that Bee’s got Meteor-Fire with him, this is his field!!!

Oh lmao JUST KIDDING I GUESS

Well so much for the alien, rest in pieces

I think Saling already said this in their liveblog but I love that Bee’s collecting Windblade’s parts a-la-Megaman X2 style

COSMOS!!!!!! Yay I’m so glad they got him back!!!

Meteor-Fire: Look everybody, Cosmos is back!!! :D ME TOO BUD I’m so excited to see my space-baby

RODDY AND ARCEE!!!! I love that Percy took over for Maccadam, but that’s also so sad!!! ALSO WHY HAS HE NOT FIXED HIS EYES, RATCHET PLEASE HELP THIS POOR GUY

Episode 22  

OHH PRETTY PLANET

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: The background designers on this show are great

Rodimus: That place has nothing but bad memories for me Every Drift fan simultaneously: Mood....

I really don’t think they’ll bring Drift back (unless he’s like, a zombie, which would still suck) so that’s a bummer

Rodimus: *Talking about his trauma* Me, very distracted: Wow Bee looks really cute here

SERIOUSLY THOUGH THEY NEED RUNG IN THIS SERIES They need a therapist in every Transformers series, all these bots need therapy (though tbf they tried to give Starscream therapy and that sure didn’t help, pft)

GRIMLOCK MAYBE DON’T--oh ok too late WELL THERE THEY GO

Repugnis?? I don’t remember who that is

A CITY?????? PRETTY

INSECTICON

lmao the frickin voice actor for that grey dude cracked me up

BEE MAYBE DON’T IMMEDIATELY TRUST THEM

Energon masters???? What

Interesting that they used “She” for Grimlock

Affluence?? 

Oh great these guys are the Cybertronian bourgeoisie 

Oh boy they’re just wasting energon huh

THE SHOCKS????

That’s a pretty bubble but JEEZ

OH NO WHY CAN”T HE TRANSFORM??

WAIT WHERE”S THE AUDIO oh wait no OP did mention there was an audio dropout

Is Grimlock gonna make friends with the bugs!!!

OH RIGHT the bug is Repugnis 

Aw the bugs are way nicer than the bourgeoisie, surprising absolutely no one

HELL YEAH, EAT THE RICH GRIMLOCK

“If we let you go, things will change! We like things the way they are” jeez

I wonder how the Shocks came about

It frickin figures

PRISON BREAK BEE!!!!

EAT HIM GRIMLOCK!!!

“Well this is quite astonishing” cute....

YEAH I WAS WONDERING IF THEY HAD THE SAME ALT MODE they looked like they had bug-bits, I didn’t realize that thing was keeping them from transforming though

Episode 23   

Oh right Megatron has a Matrix of Leadership I FORGOT ABOUT THAT

I ALSO FORGOT WHIRL WAS IN THIS SERIES, MY BABY.....

JETFIRE WATCH OUT YOU BIG NERD

“Rack ‘n Ruin and Ratchet” OH IS THIS GONNA BE A RATCHET EPISODE??? PLEASE?????? PLEASE SAY RATCHET EPISODE

Aw poor Rack n Ruin...

RATCHET BABY BOY!!! I forgot he was a New Yorker in this series lmao

“I LOVE Jetfire!”  “I know, me too!” CUTE....

I love that every continuity has Ratchet stuck with someone who annoys him in a ship

I love that Ratchet’s not even concerned

RATCHET’S DESIGN IN CYBERVERSE IS SO CUTE...

Wait UNSPACE???? Isn’t that where they sent a bunch of bad people????

Different Quantum Frequencies??? Dimensionally aligned??? MAN I LOVE THIS GOOFY SHOW

“It’s a blue-purple” CUTE....

UH OH HERE COMES ASTROTRAIN throwing dead-end??

I love that Astrotrain is so HUGE compared to everyone else, thank you Cyberverse for my life

“Every time..” LMAO GOSH THIS SHOW IS LITERALLY THE BEST someone please make a gif of that. I love that this implies that every time someone rides in Astrotrain they get ejected at 100 mph and skid 50 ft face-first, that’s such a delightful mental image. I think this 5 second scene is legitimately one of my favorite goofs / scenes in this show IT’S JUST THAT GOOD

You can tell I really enjoyed something when I make a meme of it

IT”S ILLEGAL TO BE THIS CUTE!!!!!!!!

OK IT’S LEGITIMATELY A LITTLE FRIGHTENING TO SEE HOW HUGE ASTROTRAIN IS WHEN IN ATTACK-MODE, HE SO EASILY PICKED THEM UP but that’s why it’s cool for him to be SO much bigger than they are, I LOVE BIG CYBERTRONIANS

LMAO I LOVE ASTROTRAIN he’s such a turd to DeadEnd

“Time to pay Ratchet a house-call. ‘Cuz he’s a doctor!” I almost snorted my drink up my nose, I LOVE THE DORKY HUMOR IN THIS SHOW

I swear this series was made with me in mind

TWO HEADS, NO BRAINCELLS

You wonder if Shadow Striker and Soundwave ever just rock-paper-scissor to see who has to deal with the latest Autobot bs that day

“And we don’t” OH SHOOT THEY’RE BEING LEFT OUT OF THE DECEPTICON’S PLANS TOO...This is more dire than I thought

Man I really do love Shadow Striker and Soundwave, they’re the only competent Decepticons

OH NO NOT RATCHET!!! NO!!!!!

Ohh so Astrotrain is still a triple changer in this series!! :O

WOW A SHOT TO THE HEAD REALLY DIDN”T DO ANYTHING HUH

REST IN PIECES DEADEND lmao he and Percy both have good survival stats it seems

NICE MOVES GRANDPA glad your hips still work lol

Oh good I’m glad they actually kept the purple thing

RIP Rack n Ruin

DEADEND YOU DONT EVEN KNOW WHAT THAT IS

YEAHHHHH SHADOW STRIKER AND SOUNDWAVE!!!!!

“You’ve been told this area is off-limits” Oh shoot so Megatron really doesn’t trust them with this huh??? Must be some serious stuff they saw while universe-hopping

“Make us” SOUNDWAVE I WOULD DIE FOR YOU MY SASSY BOY

Love that he’s pissing off this dude who’s literally 4 times his height, love my son

Shadow Striker & Soundwave are Goth / Jock solidarity

Ratchet: Yeah yeah yeah I know Cuteeee

Wow they’re really not gonna help Shadow Striker and Soundwave????

THEY’RE LITERALLY JUST DOLL-SIZE IN HIS HANDS which is probably a not great reminder for Soundwave after that Dr. Tentacle Dude incident

Astrotrain: *bops their faces together* heehee Soundwave: BI Shadow Striker: >8(

JEEZ, BYE ASTROTRAIN

THE STYLE IS SO JARRING I LOVE IT!!! I LOVE UNSPACE AND HOW IT LOOKS (especially when contrasted with the regular drawing-style of the show. Really great artistic choice!)

Oh shoot so Astrotrain can just leave whenever huh

Aw what cute high fives, man this show has such good vibes

Episode 24  

NOOOO ONLY THREE EPISODES LEFT.....

:(((((

WINDLBADE!!!! I hope she’ll be ok

DID it work?? Wait you guys still have two frickin shards left, YOU”RE SO BAD AT THIS

A SHARK????? WTF

HE JUST PICKED HER UP AND DIPPED WTF WHO IS THAT

It’s not Skybyte obviously but he’s a shark too so WHO IS THAT

OHH IS THAT THE HALL OF RECORDS???? 

Wait wtf the Decepticons are attacking?? Oh wait RACK N RUIN DID YOU REALLY TELL THEM THAT

OH NO HE FROZE

WHOA  WHAT”S HAPPENING

WHAT OPTIMUS NO

WHAT”S HAPPENING!!!!! WTF

I WAS GONNA MAKE A BSOD JOKE BUT I TAKE IT ALL BACK OPTIMUS PLEASE BE OK YOU CAN’T DIE IN THIS SERIES

Is this referencing the other time when he glitched oh no....I knew that’d come back to bite us

In other news, I love that we’re learning more about the life and (cyber)biology of Cybertron, I’m so glad we got to have pretty much almost the entire series set on Cybertron

I MEAN JUST LOOK AT THAT!!! THAT’S SO COOL!!! This is the stuff I want to see in Transformers shows!!!

Hasbro could literally make a nature documentary set on Cybertron and I’d be ecstatic. Gimme more details about their world and architecture and city stuff

“Fellow Primes, why have I been summoned?” Oh shoot so the other past primes can just jack OP’s consciousness whenever??? That frickin sucks. I do love the Atlantis vibes I’m ge HOLY FRICK IS THAT MAC

AHHHHHHHH MACCADAM!!!!!!!!!!! GRANDPA!!!!!!! PLEASE GIVE OPTIMUS DAD ADVICE!!!!!! IM SO GLAD WE GET TO SEE HIM AGAIN

Chromia: Bee are you crazy?? Bee: YES! *jumps off the ship*

I love that this weird storm cloud area is basically like an ocean, that’s so cool

OH NO BEE!!!!!!!

Jeez that startled me, the shark sounds just like Bee

“Well you’re doing a scrap job” lmao Chromia please

Oh it’s the Argon Sea, it IS an ocean pft

“An ancient evil” hooo boy

BEE he’s so cute. Wait don’t just jump down a random hole AT LEAST WAIT FOR CHROMIA

CREEPY TENTACLE STUFF AGAIN, JEEZ CYBERVERSE

KICK HIS BUTT CHROMIA

Aw man, not you too Bee

MISTRESS OF FLAME!!!! I get so excited about every IDW reference haha, I love Caminus and I love that they’re letting that still exist

JEEZ THAT”S NOT CREEPY AT ALL

Is this a Titan???? IT IS A TITAN

It’s like a Cthulu titan huh

Chromia: That is THE creepiest thing I’ve ever heard THANK YOU CHROMIA, SAME THOUGHT

Chromia’s just like “This doesn’t even come close to my Top 10 list of BS I’ve had to deal with lately”

More weird smoke, oh great

JEEZ THAT’S A FREAKY TITAN

Me, crying softly: GAY RIGHTS....(and Bee). MAN THE FRIENSHIPS IN THIS SHOW ARE SO GREAT :’)

ALCHEMIST PRIME!!!!!!!!! I FRICKIN KNEW YOU WERE A PRIME

“But this is not about me” I WANNA KNOW MORE ABOUT YOU THOUGH

Wait why is a part of Windblade in Megatron’s Matrix

WHY WOULD THEY ALSO BE IN THE OTHER MATRIX oh they mean alt-universe them

It’s frickin HYSTERICAL that every time Optimus has some ~deep spiritual~ conversation with the past Primes he’s just standing there frozen while the Autobots wait for him to unfreeze like he’s some kind of ancient computer doing updates. Like, that’s legitimately one of the funniest pieces of information canon’s given us so far, thank you for my life Cyberverse writers.

I wonder if Arcee and the other bots ever take selfies with him while he’s frozen like that THERE’S SO MUCH POTENTIAL FOR COMEDY HERE

Optimus: *is frozen for a couple hours while talking to old Primes* Autobots: *put on PJs and unroll their sleeping bags so they can have a slumber party while waiting for him*

Heck now I’m just imagining them playing truth or dare or some similar game while waiting for Optimus to wake up. 

I’m sure at some point during their voyage on the Ark, Optimus froze and they all played the “who can do this silly / embarrassing thing in front of Optimus and get away with it before he wakes up” game. Like, Rodimus somersaults down the hall while spouting fire in front of Optimus, Bee does a handstand while singing the alphabet backwards, etc, and whoever’s in front of Optimus when he “wakes up” loses. (It’d be even funnier if Optimus kept pretending to be frozen while they played until someone did something REALLY embarrassing and he unfroze to freak them out. Then again, the Matrix going back into his chest would probably be too much of a giveaway huh)

OH NO I WAS SO CAUGHT UP IN THE EUPHORIA OF THIS IDEA I FORGOT THERE’S ONLY TOO EPISODES LEFT NOW....

Episode 25

I love Astrotrain’s design (both in bot-mode and his alt mode) because he just looks like a grumpy evil train and that makes me so happy.

Also RAIN!!! I love rain and this looks so pretty

LMAO ASTROTRAIN YOU’RE SUCH A TURD I had no opinion of him before this show but now I frickin love him

HE PULLED THE CHAIR OUT FROM UNDER HIM

“I HAVE HIS MATRIX” OH NO DID HE STEAL THIS FROM SHATTERED GLASS’ OPTIMUS OH FRICK

Megatron running like that while holding the Matrix in his hands reminds me so vividly of a younger sibling stealing their older sibling’s diary and fleeing at top-speed from said older sibling and that’s hilarious to me. Megatron is so petty

Dang, so that’s how his eye got messed up. Ngl it’s a good look

CYBER COWS!!!!

Wow that wall is so WEAK the Decepticons are so dumb lmao

Oh yeah they have a new furry on their team

Rodimus: Math isn’t my strong-suit.

Arcee: Especially me!  Arcee you are ADORABLE

OH SHOOT MEGATRON CAN TALK TO THE PAST PRIMES TOO...DANG

WINDBLADE!!! MAKE WINDBLADE A PRIME YOU COWARDS

Ok I know I said “Shattered-Glass Optimus” earlier but based on that spoiler some moron on Twitter posted, IT’S PROBABLY TARN...man I wish I hadn’t seen that spoiler but despite that IM STILL EXCITED

Makes you wonder how TARN got the Matrix though (not that I can’t guess 8( )

Oh my gosh I just realized we have the potential to see Windblade kick Tarn’s butt in this series. Cyberverse PLEASE, I’D LOVE TO SEE THAT

Ah so Astrotrain is the new scientist

Ur bugs are probably dead dude

LASERBEAK!!!!

RAVAGE??? Oh no that’s the furry dude MAN I GET SO EXCITED EVERY TIME, I KEEP FORGETTING

As much as I Die for loyal Soundwave, it’s really cool seeing him being his own character and acting on his own in this series and trusting his own judgement / surveillance! It’s so good. Soundwave you’re so smart (and I love that he loves Laserbeak :’) )

*SOBBING* CASE IN POINT...HE PET THE BABY..

OHOHO IT”S *THE* INSECTICONS

Oh shoot the Insecticons are deserting 

“No one can stop him. Not even you” dang son

“He doesn’t want us. He wants you” OH BOY

MY BABY WHIRL!!!! THAT’S MY BOY

SEEKERS!!! I forgot we still had a few who Starscream didn’t frickin kill

NICE JUMP-ATTACK OPTIMUS I love that he cuts the dude’s weapon in half meanwhile Grimlock just frickin eats the guy lmao. So much for Optimus’ mercy

FRICK FRICK FRICK IT IS TARN

OK TARN OBJECTIVELY SUCKS BUT AT THE SAME TIME I ACTUALLY DO LOVE HIM BECAUSE HOLY FRICK IS HE A DANGEROUS CHARACTER AND THERE’S SO MUCH TO PLAY WITH THERE, I CANT WAIT TO SEE HIM AND HOW THEY USE HIM FOR THE STORY AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Dead End: Yeah, I see your point Lmao I love this guy

Everyone’s gonna frickin die in this series

OH NO WHIRL oh wait yeah he and Dead End know each other, Whirl’s fine

SOUNDWAVE CAN YOU AND SHADOW STRIKER CHILL FOR 2 SECONDS

I love Skybyte’s voice

WOW MEGATRON, YOU”RE ONLY PROTECTING HALF THE PLANET, JEEZ

OH SHOOT

OH SHOOT

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh so that’s why they had a wall, Megatron you turd

WHIRL NO!!!!!!! oh he’s fine thank goodness

Did Megatron get taller??? He looks taller than Optimus now

Just use Optimus’ matrix you big baby

“It’s time I called in that debt you owe me. Now it’s time for you to save me” I LEGITIMATELY SHRIEKED OUT LOUD, AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!

THERE HE IS, THERE HE IS THERE HE IS!!!!!!!

SCREW PAST ME’S OPINION, TARN IS FRICKIN COOL AS HELL

OH SHOOT THERE’S A TON OF HIM WTF

WHERE’S THAT FRICKIN “THERE IT IS, THERE IT IS, THERE!!! IT!!! IS!!!” MEME BECAUSE THAT’S BEEN ME THIS ENTIRE EPISODE HOLY HECK

Episode 26

MORE PRIME NAMES!!! A) that’s very pretty B) LEGIT THOUGH IF WINDBLADE’S THE ONE WHO KICKS TARN’S BUTT I’LL GO APE

OH FRICK IF OPTIMUS IS THERE THEN TARN REALLY DID KILL HIM or it means he beefed it in that universe, as he usually does

“I wish I’d gotten to know you better” 8((((((

What happened to Alt!Universe Optimus!!!!!!! How did you die!!!

Windblade: Optimus, you’re speaking in riddles... Optimus: I always do, it comes with the job of Prime. Windblade: Oh right

“A perfect Decepticon race” HOO BOYZY.....

“All because I spared your life” MAN THAT HURTS

At least they aren’t attacking them right now?

HOW CAN THEY POSSIBLY RESOLVE THIS SERIES IN 10 MINUTES

ASTROTRAIN YOU COWARD not that I blame him, every bot for themself I guess

OH NO THE HURT PUPPY WHINE MAKES ME SO SAD

HELL YEAH SOUNDWAVE SAVE MY BABY BEE

I TAKE IT BACK TARN IS CANCELED, HE HIT SOUNDWAVE

*AND* HE GRABBED CHROMIA, YOU”RE CANCELED, ALL THESE CLONES ARE CANCELED

SOUNDWAVE IS THE ONLY VALID DECEPTICON

Optimus: Can’t keep-- Megatron: WE MUST! Me: *SOBS*

OPTIMUS AND MEGATRON BACK-TO-BACK FIGHTING AHHHHHHHHHH, IT”S THE LITTLE-THINGS

Definitely not the right time for this joke but: AU where instead of saying “Powers of Cybertron, unite!” they say “GAY RIGHTS” to activate their Matrix powers

Frick what if they kill MEGATRON in this series

HECK YEAH EVERYONE’S GETTING AN UPGRADE

Megatron: We must join our Matrixes together! Optimus: Now REALLY isn’t the best time for a marriage proposal Megatron: What Optimus: What

Thank you for telling Optimus to get down for once instead of just blasting him AND the Tarn-copies, Megatron

OH FRICK IT IS ALT-UNIVERSE MEGATRON NOT TARN WHO’S THE BIG BAD

I LEGIT STOPPED BREATHING DURING THIS ENTIRE SEQUENCE AHHHH

THIS IS INFINITELY BETTER (AND WORSE) THAN I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE AHHHHHHHHHHHHH

THAT MEANS ALT!UNIVERSE MEGATRON DID KILL OPTIMUS...MEANWHILE OUR UNIVERSE’S MEGATRON SPARED OPTIMUS...MAN THAT HURTS ME SO BAD

MEGATRON NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

OPTIMUS SAVE HIM SAVE HIM PLEASE SOMEHOW SAVE HIM!!!!!

OPTIMUS LITERALLY FRICKIN RAN ACROSS THE ROOM TO CATCH HIM, MY HEART CAN’T TAKE THIS DRAMA

NO!!!! NO!!!!!!!!!!! YOU CAN”T DO THIS TO ME CYBERVERSE

“Prime...one shall stand...one shall....” THIS IS THE SADDEST FRICKIN THING THAT”S HAPPENED IM LEGIT GONNA CRY, NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Hold on...my friend...” IM GONNA BAWL MY EYES OUT OPTIMUS

I legit had to take a moment to get up and do a lap around my room while processing what happened LIKE OK I KNOW THEY PROBABLY (???) WON’T PERMA-KILL MEGATRON BUT FRICK DUDE THAT WAS SO EMOTIONAL

MEGAOP RIGHTS....BUT AT WHAT COST

What’s fricking me up rn (granted, several things are fricking me up right now) is that this universe’s Megatron knew he could’ve achieved his goals if he’d just killed Optimus. He said so himself; he could’ve had it all but he failed “all because I spared your [Optimus’] life”. Whatever he saw in that other universe convinced him that killing Optimus just wasn’t worth it (or perhaps, deep deep DEEP down, he really doesn’t want to kill his old friend).

I’m rewatching that last minute and this feels like a frickin fanfiction. I’m Living but also Dying

I KNOW THIS IS A VERY TENSE SCENE BUT MEGATRON’S “I won’t pay for anything!” MADE ME LAUGH

SOUNDWAVE STANDING BETWEEN SHADOW-STRIKER AND MEGATRON!!!!!!!!! STANDING UP TO MEGATRON!!!! SOBS I LOVE SOUNDWAVE SO MUCH!!!!!!!!!!!!! BUT ALSO PLEASE BE CAREFUL MY SWEET BOY!!!!! IF YOU GET HURT ILL NEVER BE OVER IT

Two reasons he could’ve done that: to keep Shadow Striker from getting super pissed off and lashing out at this enemy who’s way above their level, or because the “jacked up Frankenstein experiment” thing is a sore subject for her and Soundwave recognizes that (and frankly I’m leaning toward option B because SOBS....I LOVE THEIR FRIENDSHIP)

GOTH FRIENDS!!!

OH OK THANK GOODNESS, MEGATRON ISN’T DEAD DEAD YET

Dang so Megatron did kill Optimus

OH NO WE’RE GETTING A FLASHBACK

FRICK THAT”S SO GRUESOME, HE JUST RIPPED OPTIMUS’ CHEST OPEN

YOU ALREADY KNOW THE MOST PERFECT DECEPTICON, HIS NAME IS SOUNDWAVE!!! YOU JUST DON’T APPRECIATE HIM YOU BIG BULLY

Oh shoot so the Quints came to that world too

DANG HE JUST WRECKED THEIR SHIP HUH....

I’m loving this throwback to the IDW design

WOW Y’ALL JUST IMMEDIATELY WENT “SURE WE’RE ONBOARD” (I mean, good way to stay alive but C’MON GUYS....)

“I have no need for any of you” WHOOPS SO MUCH FOR THAT should’ve seen that coming

THIS SUCKS SO BAD

NONONONO!!!! MEGATRON!!!!

HECK NOW HE HAS THE MATRIX

wow you guys really just let Megatron fall to the floor COME ON OPTIMUS WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR SMOOTH MOVES

NICE ONE BEE!!!!!!

YEAH WERE ARE ARCEE AND HOT ROD

FRICK YEAH WHIRL, MESS HIM UP!!!!!!!!!

YEAH SHADOW STRIKER!!!!!!

RATCHET PUNCHING TARN HELL YEAH!!!!!!!!!!

FRICK HE CAN JUST MATERIALIZE LIKE THAT TOO

WELL THAT DIDN’T LAST LONG

BEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“And now you will pay the price...for being a hero” DANG THAT”S A COOL LINE BUT DON’T HURT MY BOY

FRICK HIM UP OPTIMUS!!!!!!!!!!!!!

WINDBLADE NOW WOULD BE A GOOD TIME TO SAVE EVERYONE

YEAHHHH WINDBLADE!!!!!!!

Yeah don’t turn your back on the body please

YO Astrotrain came back

ASTROTRAIN THAT SOUNDS SO CREEPY AND ALSO THAT’S SUCH A BAD IDEA, JUST KILL HIM

I know this is a kid’s show but PLEASE DO SOMETHING TO MAKE SURE HE WON’T POP BACK UP IN A FEW YEARS WITH ANOTHER ARMY

IM GLAD WINDBLADE IS BACK AND IM LOVING THE HUG BUT DID MEGATRON LEGIT FRICKIN DIE????

WHAT!!! WHAT THAT CAN’T BE IT!?!?!? HOW COULD YOU END IT LIKE THAT NO!!!!!!! THAT WAS SO ABRUPT nO!!!!!!!!!! 

The last few episodes were such an adrenaline rush I CAN”T BELIEVE WE CAME DOWN FROM THAT HIGH SO QUICKLY....IS MEGATRON ALIVE??? KICKSTARTER TO FUND ONE MORE EPISODE???? SPARE ANOTHER EPISODE FOR A POOR FAN???

MAN I wish we could’ve stayed in the universe of this show for a little longer but dang!!! That was really really good!!! I’m so grateful we got to have such a wonderful series like Cyberverse! :’) Thank you to everyone who worked on this incredible show!!!

Man now I gotta wait for WfC for new Transformers content....at least I can look through the tag w/out getting spoiled now

A few more thoughts now that I’ve re-read my liveblog:

If Megatron could hop into the Matrix of Leadership he possessed, I wonder if he ever had a chance to talk to that universe’s Optimus Prime... :( based on what he said, probably not, but that makes me so sad!!!! Did they ever get the chance to work things out!!! IS MEGATRON ALIVE OR NOT.....

[pokeshippingflashfic]

the "but why is she over your shoulder like that?" prompt fic was so beautiful, please consider a sequel!

(Luckily there was a particular direction I’d wanted to take this fic in if I’d had the opportunity. Unfortunately the word count kept me from going as far as I wanted so…)

“It’s, uh,” Tracey tried to say at some point, awkwardly breaking the ice caused by her frigid temper, “I was going to say it’s nice to travel as a group again, isn’t it? It may only be from Pallet Town to the Indigo League HQ but it reminds me of our old times. Except for maybe a lot more walking at one time than when we were forced to do in the Orange Islands.”

“Yeah, I think it’s really great that Professor Oak has decided to send you as his proxy to council events and conferences. I didn’t know that was something you’d been training to do over the past few years,” Ash continued in conversation, warily eyeing their female friend as she flexed her fingers into two fists once, twice, followed by a cathartic sigh before releasing her obvious tension and carrying on.

“Well, y’know, when you’re the personal assistant to a regional Pokemon professor, you kind of get trained to handle everything. But yeah, I’m glad he’s begun trusting me with these kinds of responsibilities too.”

“So have you thought about the future? Are you trying to gain the same licensure as Professor Oak and take over the lab or are you eventually planning to leave and do something with your art?” Misty joined in. “Or maybe something else even? I mean, if the professor retires… Ash, you said Gary was actually interested in taking over too, right?”

“Ah, well, maybe,” her oldest friend responded in kind, proud that she’d started trying to build herself back up after her most recent incident. “I mean, I know Gary said he wants to follow in Professor Oak’s footsteps… but I don’t actually know if that means going so far as to set up shop permanently in Pallet Town. I think he still really likes traveling around to different regions so I can’t say.”

There were a few minutes of contemplative silence as the terrain under their feet began to shift from flat plains to more uneven knolls, an indicator that they were about halfway to their final destination now and would probably arrive by late the next day. But until then…

“It’s not just me who’s made strides towards a goal though, is it?” Tracey asked next with a half-smile at his two friends as they walked side by side. “There’s Ash who became a first division champion last year and now you, Misty. You worked real hard to gain your slot in the Elite Four over the past couple years too. So what’s everyone’s next steps?”

“Well, for me, I gotta maintain a certain percentage of victories over losses in league-sanctioned challenges and move up ranks over the next year or two. Eventually, once my stats are high enough, I can challenge the Elite Four and then…” Ash faltered, allowing Misty and Tracey to come to their own conclusion.

“So that means you’d eventually have to battle Misty, wouldn’t you?”

“O - oh yeah… I guess so. I didn’t think about that until now.”

“Awe, don’t worry, Mr. Pokemon Master, we’ve been through all this before, haven’t we? During your Cerulean Gym match and our battle during the Whirl Cup. We can handle some competition between us,” the redhead smirked with a sharp wink, hands on her hips as she stared him down afterwards.

Ash responded in kind, holding up a hand to high-five her, their entwined grip lingering when she indeed reached out to him.

“Don’t worry, Mist. The last thing I’d want is for ya to go easy on me! When our time comes, it better be a fair fight! Let’s make that promise now!”

The group’s combined progress had stuttered to a halt while the two of them shared their moment, something somehow both soft and equally fierce at the same time, an invisible yet intense energy crackling between them.

“It’s nice to see that some other things have progressed too.”

“What’s that mean, Tracey?” Ash asked blankly, finally separating his hand from Misty’s and subconsciously concealing it in his jacket pocket.

“Well, y’know…”

“Tracey, what are you getting at?” Misty replied much more aggressively, hoping that he’d catch on to her tone and drop the subject she knew would be coming her way next, sweat already forming at the highest point of her forehead under her fringe.

“I’m just saying that, even though you two didn’t see each other for years until you met again at the league, you’re still as close as ever, and you still obviously share that really unique connection that I remember from our days in the Orange Islands. In fact, it feels even stronger and more reciprocal now than back then, especially after yesterday.”

“Uh… what is ress… resseeprogal?” Ash responded, tone just as sharp now as Misty’s had most recently been as he struggled with the foreign word used in reference to his relationship with her.

“It… it means mutual, Ash,” the redheaded trainer ground out with a dark scowl even as her cheeks twinged an abnormal shade of red.

“Mutual?” Apparently he wasn’t much more familiar with that one.

“I guess it’s only natural that you two would have finally figured things out and started dating by now,” Tracey finally stated as clearly as possible with a nonchalant shrug.

Misty sucked in a deep breath, eyes inching closed at the mortification that was her current situation. She supposed this was what she got for trying to threaten someone so subtlely. Unfortunately, like Ash had told her the day before, there were eyes watching her wherever she went now and if she happened to take something too far… like strangling and leaving for dead a certain sketch artist on the very well known and consistently traversed route to the Indigo Plateau…

She emphatically shook her head to rid it of that plan. It simply wouldn’t do for her to ruin her future as an Elite Four member now by committing coldblooded murder. She could only hope - and yes, honestly she could probably even expect - that Ash wouldn’t understand what Tracey meant by his terminology.

“Dating,” the younger trainer mulled over aloud, as if repeating the word would somehow explain to him where their friend had gotten such a ludicrous idea. “Dating?! What? But we’re not, Tracey! We’re just friends, I promise! I mean, of course we’re close and all but yesterday… if you thought that me carrying Misty back to camp meant something then just… just no, okay?! Right, Misty?” he finished in what sounded suspiciously like a hopeful tone as he whirled around to face her, knowing she’d absolutely agree with him.

She didn’t reply straight away, couldn’t even bring herself to look at him. Part of her, as seemed to always be the case even after this long, was furious at him for his immature ignorance. Part of her blamed Tracey too for broaching such a sensitive subject. He’d always been the most observant of any of their friends. Maybe it was the artist in him… Part of her was angry at herself. She should have concealed her feelings better. Or she should have even gotten over him after how long and far apart they’d been, right? It made sense, didn’t it?

But beyond her passionate wrath was a slowly incoming wave of emotional exhaustion she’d been subduing for a long time, and even more constantly after meeting that abusive trainer the day before. It had only been twenty-four hours and yet she’d grown entirely too weary to play that old denial game anymore. For Arceus’ sake, she was just tired and the truth felt a whole lot more appeasing than a lie at this point.

“Ash… can we talk?” she asked, shooting Tracey a quick look that told him to take a few steps back and give them their space. “Um, Pikachu, would you mind waiting with Tracey? We’ll just be a couple minutes over here on the side of the path. I have something important to say.”

Pikachu nodded and plopped down from his trainer’s shoulder, pouncing immediately in their older friend’s direction and leaping soundly up into his open arms while the redheaded E4 member had to practically drag a mostly unwilling (and admittedly slightly concerned) Ash Ketchum towards the other side of the trail.

“Mist, what’s there to talk about? Why didn’t you tell him what’s what, huh? What’s goin’ on now?”

“I just need you to hear me out. Just like I did for you yesterday, okay Ash?”

“I… This is that serious, huh…? Okay, Misty, I’ll listen.”

“So yesterday… it was the closest I’ve ever come to not understanding… and more importantly… not forgiving you for something, Ash. Until you told me why you did what you did - and that, in the end, you did what you did ultimately for me - I had already basically made up my mind that you weren’t the same person I remembered traveling with as a kid. That you’d gotten too obsessed with reputation somehow, that you’d changed too much.

“But I was wrong, wasn’t I? And I admit it. You taught me something new, and like I said I’d already learned how to feel about a lot of things, react to things, because of my exposure to your friendship. But there’s more to it than that.”

Ash scrutinized her after her final statement, brow furrowed and upper lip puckered in slight confusion over her wordy explanation about something that seemed entirely unrelated to the word “dating”, which had knocked him for such a loop before.

“Thanks to knowing you, I’ve grown to know a lot… about myself, about other people, about Pokemon. I know I never said that before but… it’s always been hard to know what was okay for me to tell you, and I think you had a similar problem a lot of the time. Also… and I guess I can take it if you decide you don’t agree but I like to think that I’ve taught you a little something over the years too. Maybe… maybe not always the best things… and maybe not in the clearest or most consistent ways… but…”

“You have, Misty,” Ash was compelled to tell her, no time to even consider the phrasing of his confession. “That’s part of what I always liked about our friendship, you know? And you’re right, it always felt… weird admitting it to you before. Like it wasn’t allowed. Like it would be too much somehow.”

“Like you were… exposing a part of yourself you felt you couldn’t trust me with, right?” Misty replied knowingly, cheeks a vibrant red now as the sting of tears welled up behind her half-closed eyelids. “Ash, you… you may not feel the same… or maybe it’s still too soon to tell somehow even though you’re almost eighteen years old… but, if nothing else, yesterday taught me - reminded me - that you’re the person I trust most in this entire world. I can tell you anything, I can… give you anything, all of me and my secrets.

“So instead of denying this like I’ve always been prone to do in the past, I’ll just say it because my trust in you far exceeds my fear that you won’t understand or feel the same for me. I love you, Ash. For a long time now, I’ve felt differently for you than anyone else I’ve ever met. And you deserve to know it.”

At some point during their conversation, they’d ended up holding each other again, fingers laced and torsos mere inches apart. There had always somehow been a tense naturalization between them that instinctively led to them physically depending on each other over everyone else, hadn’t there?

“I didn’t know,” he practically whispered in morbid response, at least having the decency to look embarrassed.

“Well, that’s why I finally told you,” she nodded in soft affirmation.

“No, I mean, I didn’t know… that you felt the same. To be honest, I don’t mean that I love you!” he rushed to say before her heart could leap up into her throat, causing it to fall into the pit of her stomach instead. “But everything else you said makes sense. It reminds me almost exactly of how I feel even though… I probably couldn’t have said it like such a romantic sap,” he offered as a cheap laugh, though she was too much a bundle of intense nerves to accept the opportunity.

“No, Mist, I just mean that what you say makes me understand how… I feel and… how a lot of people have viewed our friendship over the years. We teach each other, we learn from each other, it’s… what’s that word Tracey used? Resseepro…”

“Reciprocal. It means… something like an equal exchange. We give to and take from each other. In our case, in a good way.”

“And that I’ve grown to trust you so much, like you said you trust me? I guess I don’t really know if I trust you more than anyone else… but… now that we’ve come this far for sure, and especially because I really do wanna protect you and your dreams, your future… I trust you… differently? Is that…?”

Is that good enough? he was going to ask (and a small part of him fervently hoped that it was) but admittedly now his courage was failing him. Had he hurt her? Rejected her? Had he not met her expectations? What else could he do…?

“Ash, I’m gonna protect you too, don’t you forget! And I’m just glad you were able to share with me what you felt so honestly. Everything else, we can figure out as we go, especially now that we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other at the league. But as a first step, how about we grab dinner sometime or go see a movie?” she smiled at him, nudging him in the shoulder with a twinkle in her eye he was proud to say he’d put there.

“That sounds pretty good to me. For starters.”

[theostry]

Teen Wolf Scripts liveblog: Season 1 Episode 2

Second ep of the first season, appropriately titled:

Teen Wolf Scripts!

Back again, Wolfiends. Another lengthy post consisting of screenshots of the Teen Wolf script alongside my own rambling commentary. I’m not here to review the show; finer minds than myself have got that covered. Nor is it a photo-recap; that has been done by crazier bastards than myself. 

I am here, as no doubt we all are, holding up my empty bowl to Jeff Davis and saying in a pitiful voice, “please, sir, I want some more.” Now, eat your gruel and count yourself lucky because this batch has raisins in it. 

Excerpts have been selected based on the following criteria: 1) It did not make the final cut; 2) It was substantially altered; 3) It offers extra detail not apparent from the show, such as description and direction; and 4) I felt like including it.

Fun times (and, obviously, a hell of a lot of spoilers) below the cut.

Okay, let’s get started!

WhaaAAAAT? 

We open on a doozie here. Is this a sign that the elusive Greenberg may actually exist? Like, in corporeal form? Not just a figment of Coach’s fevered imagination? 

The lacrosse sequence we’re shown was more montage-y than the script suggests and we don’t see Coach pass the ball to anyone directly, but here’s the first player to try for goal:

Greenberg? 

Or actually, it might have been this guy (confusing montage is confusing): 

Greenberg (’s hairy leg)? 

Oh but now here is where coach is telling Greenberg to take a lap, and THIS GUY starts running. 

GREENBEEEEERRG!

Coach is doing more actual coaching than I had thought him capable of, that’s nice. 

I don’t know what these “slap checks” and “cross checks” are, but to me it just looked like two guys in plastic armour smashing into one another. But what do I know, I’m not a sportsball expert. 

Also, goats. 

Sorry, sorry. I meant 

*lurk*

Well there goes my headcanon that wolf-puppy Scott just wanted to pway wif his best fwiend!

I love this scene a lot, and I’m glad they made it more scary and dramatic than this, with the jumping up on lockers and crouching in rafters and such. Why go around something when you can go over it, amirite?

Hello, gorgeous!

A STRANGE SILHOUETTE. 

I don’t know who you think you’re kidding, Jeff Davis. By now I think we all know that, like “a figure” and “someone watching”, this is a synonym for   

Now 100% more grabby!

That part isn’t news, but— Pffffft Melissa. 

LMFAO

Come on though, Melissa’s not that old. She knows perfectly well what it means, she just does this because it amuses her to make Scott squirm and huff. 

Then Allison pops up to tell him that she too is excited to come and watch him play. 

He didn’t get the line, but his face said it for him.

Meanwhile, someone’s creeping on Allison! 

HOW VERY ALONE 

NOT A SOUL

Until——  

Just kidding. The script doesn’t say who it is. I guess we’ll never know. Or, canon confirmation that Derek Hale OR WHOEVER does not possess a soul

In math class— 

Yeah, buddy. Us too. 

Ah, Lydia 

Is LAX a hip new abbreviation for Lacrosse? Or have airports somehow become a high school sport? I hope not, I would lose so badly. 

Now I want a spin-off series of webisodes about Allison Argent versus the Totally Evil Popular Girls. 

Curious. Both the spinning business and the ever-tantalising ‘OMITTED’. Don’t omit things, Jeff Davis, it’s rude! 

Well that didn’t happen 

That didn’t happen either 

UM NO JEFF THAT IS DEFINITELY NOT WHAT HAPPENED. THAT IS LITERALLY THE EXACT OPPOSITE OF WHAT HAPPENED.

No theatrics here!

Pity this bit got cut. Not a huge difference to the scene — we still got Derek’s casual disregard for others’ property and heavy-handed metaphor  — but Derek’s control is a big deal to Scott, and that could have done with more emphasis. 

*Curiosity intensifies*

Good to know that half-second sight gag was planned from the start. 

Huh. I always thought he’d said “there were bite marks on the lady.” Also, he didn’t mention Allison here on screen. 

*Curiosity intensifies further*

Good instincts, Scotty! I wonder how much that was his burgeoning wolfy-sense, and how much was just genre-savvy. 

Ooh, that’s different - on the show Scott is not only surprised to see Stiles approaching the car, but desperately trying to signal him to stop. 

This is not an Ok, go face. This is a face that says Stiles, no. At least they rhyme?

The Sheriff is the Sheriff again. Order is restored to the universe. 

The only ‘squealing sound’ I remember in this scene was from Stiles’s long-suffering Jeep. 

And now— oh. Oh holy hell. Look at this. 

yes yes we saw that part but Scott’s gone he’s run off

What the figgins no he hasn’t!

Oooooh Scotty no this is stalking behaviour. Do not eat your Stiles, that is bad manners. 

Not the Jeep! Stalking your BFF is one thing but assaulting an innocent Roscoe is just bang out of order. No wonder Stiles abandons his calm entreaties to yell at him, you can’t hit a man in the Jeep and expect him to keep his temper. 

I’m biting my nails are you biting your nails

SDKJHADFKLASDFA EXTENDED KEYSMASH! 

I KNOW BUD IT IS VERY SCARY

THAT’S GOOD STILES DRIVE OUT FROM UNDER THE RAMPAGING WEREWOLF WHAT COULD GO WRONG

RAMPAGING WEREWOLVES ARE VERY PERSISTENT AREN’T THEY

well he wasn’t going to hit him what do you think he is an Argent

SDFLKJHGFLKLSDJFH

WHAT THE HELL

SOMEBODY CALL TYLER AND DYLAN AND FILM THIS SCENE, STAT!!

It’s like all those times when--

O_O

YEAH NO FashgfadsUCKING KIDDING, JEFF!

*deep breath*

Add that to the list of places the Argents have canonically lived. Unless it’s a reference to [Coach Finstock voice] cream cheese. 

*Curiosity levels approaching critical*

A ball-peen hammer? Oh, Coach. 

A crack? In his helmet? What and how? 

Sensible, random Lacrosse (LAX?) player. Your captain is a douche. 

Aw, we didn’t get Scott’s serial killer POV here. 

Bahaha he never even went for a ‘slap check’ (whatever that is), he just growled at him from five feet away. 

Interesting indeed, Coach! He doesn’t reply to Stiles in the show. This way it gives the impression that he’s going to be doing some investigating, maybe Scott will have to be more careful around him. 

Lol, the referee never called the goal. Coach argued with him, then blew the whistle himself, and the refs just went with it. 

That’s a different take - that in his heightened state the sight of Argent coming towards him triggered his flight response. We didn’t see Argent walking onto the field until after Scott was long gone, so there was no suggestion that Scott was reacting to him at that time. We do see an ominously thoughtful look on Chris’s face! 

Awwww sweet. You hold onto that brief second, wolf boy. 

I WONDER who it’s gonna be, say it with me now— 

Oh hey! We’re on first name terms with our stalker now.

wait-- 

what

Aaaahahaha no he doesn’t, as if Derek Actual Hale would smile and greet someone. Jeff you’ve been smoking again. 

 (Or, more likely, trying to seed the aborted Jackson Hale plotline.) 

Another ripper of a script! Some fun extra moments -- and nail-biting ones -- as well as a few where the production obviously decided to go in a different direction. We got Scott marvelling at Derek’s control, Melissa trolling her son like the A+ parent she is, Scott having extremely good spidey-senses for a canid, Derek as a luring lurker who lurks, even when the script tells him not to, this man cannot be stopped, not to mention everybody’s favourite Greenberg, with an actual face! Or leg. Whatever.

All outshone by the Jeep attack scene. Why, oh why, Jeff? Do you hate us? 

Nahhh. On reflection, I can see why they cut it. This episode showcased Scott’s lack of control over his wolfy side, but we already had a fair bit of Feral Scott -- on the lacrosse (sorry, LAX) field and peeping into Allison’s window -- so that point was made. And we’d already had him attacking Stiles specifically, in that excellent locker room scene. But the visual of Scott wolfed out and roaring to the sky from atop the Jeep would have been something to see. Not to mention that moment of terror as Stiles finally sees what his friend has become, in the clear light of day, no helmet or darkness to obscure him. 

It would have been the perfect punctuation to Scott’s complaint from just prior: “Stop enjoying this so much!” Stiles still thinks he’s in a superhero origin story. But Scott is stuck in a nightmare horror. 

At least he got his perfect moment. 

Exeunt

[cutegirlmayra]

Hello lovely person! I'm a big fan of your work and would like to know if you can continue that prompt where the Sonic Boom characters are just older versions of the video games? I really liked it! I would love to see more of the relationship between Sonic and Amy on that period. You did a great job with this prompt! (Like always) Anyway, I hope you have a wonderful day!

(x) Received Permission by Artist to use as ‘Preview Image’, please support her as well! (If you would like to offer your art, please message me and let me know the link you want me to use. I’d be more than thrilled to use your works for Preview images on my prompts!)

Based on this Prompt: (x)

Lovely person~ You are precious and I love you~

Prompt:

As the gang all seems to be having something interesting going on, Sonic is at a loss.

Bored, and laying with his body spread out on the beach, he continues to sigh…

His sighing gets louder…

Finally the whole village and even Eggman can hear his sighs.

Growing upset that Sonic’s obnoxious sighs are literally drowning out his ‘nappy time’ Eggman throws the covers off his sheets and tries to watch a sitcom. Laughing, he suddenly growls in annoyance and shoots straight up from his couch in his pink jumper-pajamas.

“That’s it! That annoying blue hedgehog had sighed his last goodbye!” He clenched his fist and started putting on a jacket, then shoes, “After all. Today’s suppose to be my time of rest! I mean really. I’m suppose to be mad at this ingrate; buffoon for an entire 11 minutes each week- and they expect me to put my clothes on.” He looks to the camera, as if so done with his existence.

Fully clothed, and walking along the beach, Eggman with Cubot and Orbot behind him walks head first, hands behind his back, glaring to Sonic.

“Is there something the matter..? Sonic?” Eggman tries to hold himself together, but he’s clearly enraged at Sonic.

“Might as well be civil and actually ‘ask’ you what’s wrong. And for once, it can’t possibly be me this time!” Eggman shrugs his arms up, happy about that before remembering he has no idea why Sonic’s so forlorn.

“So why the long face? Trying to match your nose? HAHAAHAH!!” Eggman slapped his knee and leaned his head back, clutching his bald-forehead and snickering as he says, “That was so good. Oh boy!”

Sonic turns his head towards him… slowly… and as if all life has been drained from him, making him weak.

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGGGHHH~

He rolled his head over to the other side, letting his sigh carry as Eggman’s mustache twitched, his body tensed, and then leaped forward to try and strangle the hedgehog.

Cubot and Orbot held him back, pulling on his trail as the doctor’s fingers twitched for Sonic’s cold, lifeless body to be in it’s arms about now…

“I swear! They should hold you in contempt!”

“He really is being rather disagreeable though. Don’t you think, Cubot?” Orbot struggled to keep the Doctor from killing their lead protagonist out of sheer annoyance, but Cubot noticed something redish-pink laying on the ground near Sonic…

“Hey, isn’t that Amy’s headband?”

“WHAT?! NO!” Sonic suddenly jumped in spot, bouncing almost as his upper torso reached forward and grabbed the headband, holding it close and turning it away from the crowd.

“I-I-it just fell. And I noticed it fell. And I wanted to give it back to her. B-bu-but she’s busy! So I went to hang with Tails for a while. Who was also busy. T-th-then-then STICKS WAS BUSY! Like, whaaa?? Since when!? And Knuckles is pretending he has an aristocratic job he has to get to when really, he’s just making sandcastles over there….” Sonic grumbled, talking quickly as was his specialty before gesturing to Knuckles, a ways down the beach…

Putting a pink shell on the castle, matching it with a purple shell, he very ‘particularly’ lifted up his pinkie finger. “Ah, yes. That’s the correct location for a lilac orchard, seasoned, shell to reside! I’ll take my 20 shillings now!” he pretended to open his hand for reward, as he snickered putting green seaweed in his hand. “Hehehe~ Suckers! I totally just placed a lame shell on the sand! They don’t even know it’s not a real castle!” he gestured to his creation as Sonic shook his head, and Eggman put his hands to his hips.

“Someone needs to write him a better pastime…”

Sonic sighed and turned his body, his hand… strangely still gripping Amy’s headband.

Orbot rubbed his metallic chin and pulled Eggman’s attire to tug him down, whispering in his ear.

“I think he’s trying to distract himself from actually addressing Amy. I mean, since when has she ever been ‘too busy’ for Sonic?” He waved his shrugged hands out to prove a point, as Eggman also rubbed his chin… thinking…

“I don’t know.” his shoulders bounced, as if he didn’t care. “Maybe she’s found a NEW GUY.” he suddenly shouted out, as Sonic twitched and scrambled in the sand.

“WHA-WHAT? New guy? What new guy-I-I-I don’t even think there’s BEEN a new guy!? We’re on a tiny island with limited people that don’t do much. What could a new guy possibly contribute?!”

His odd spazz made Eggman smile, “Ahhh…” he winked to Orbot and then leaned up, pointing directly to Cubot.

“Cubot! I order you to steal Amy’s headband! Stat!” he rounded his hand to crook it and have it across his chest. Leaning down, he winked slyly to Cubot, who didn’t seem to get it.

“But why? Sonic’ll trash me if I even try to-”

Eggman growled, shaking his head before kicking Cubot after it, smirking as he saw Cubot rush over and grip it.

“I’ll be taking that!”

“What? Hey, let it go!”

“W-woah! Strong grip.. Ah!”

Sonic and him played a moment of tug-o-war as they fought over the headband, before Sonic kicked Cubot off after a moment of wrestling.

“Hey! This headband isn’t going anywhere but BACK on Amy’s head!” Sonic gruffed, getting up and huffing with puffs before he noticed the headband now had a tear in it.

“AH!” throwing his free hand to his head, he shifted on his feet, “What do I do? What do I do? What do I do!?”

“Calm down, old- best buddy- friend of mine- 5ever and above~” Eggman waltz over and put his hands on the panicky Sonic’s shoulders.. before flexing his hand out and looking away as if he knew something the blue hero didn’t know…

“I have a WONDERFUL uhh… tailor friend! Yes! Who would love to take a look at that and fix it up, tip-top shape. Haha..” he was clearly lying through his teeth.

“A tailor..? Hmm… Nah, maybe I should just tell Amy what happened.” Sonic looked over the headband.

“But… maybe she’ll despise you for ruining it?” Eggman leaned down, before seeing’s Sonic’s eyes widened.

“N-no. She wouldn’t do that. She’d believe me.”

“Oh, yeeeesss~ Believe that you were pulling some cruel joke on her by taking her headband and ‘accidentally’ ruining her favorite girlish accessory in the process~”

Eggman chimed out, rubbing his shoulders as Sonic suddenly looked more confused, shaking his head.

“Oh no, you’re right! She won’t believe me!”

“That’s exactly why you should come with me!” Eggman looped a firm grip on Sonic’s wrist and pulled him off towards his lair.

Orbot, disguised as a … womanly tailor… “Why a woman though? My model is clearly more fix for a man’s physique.” “Eggman says it’s in the script!” Cubot shrugged. “Ugh…” Orbot threw his upper body down with hanging arms… hovering out to greet Eggman and Sonic.

According to plan, they put a chip and ‘mind-controlling’ sync inside the headband, and patched it up.

“WHOHOHHO!” Eggman laughed as Sonic waited in the other room, making weird motions with his hands as if dancing or playing around in boredom at being patient.

“Lookie here! With this! She’ll be under my power and taking down Sonic in no time! And the best part? He can’t hurt someone he cares about! hahaahha!”

“How do you know he cares about her?” Cubot intervened. “Maybe he just has a taste for fashion wear?”

Orbot shook his head, and turned to Eggman, “This should do it.” he sowed it up and Eggman brought the repaired headband to Sonic, stitches and everything…

“Woah! Umm.. I guess it will have to do.” Sonic took it, “Thanks Eggman! You know, ever since you vacationed on this island, you’ve been really improving your tune.” he thumbs-up’d him.

Eggman, suddenly growing self-conscientious, shifted his eyes and sweated, not used to praise from Sonic.

“You’re a swell dude!” Sonic patted his back and was out of there real fast! As Eggman’s glasses lit up and he giggled like a school boy.

“Sonic thinks I’m… swell…” he started fantasizing about them being actual bros, and Sonic complimenting him time and time again-

Fishing, “You’re a swell dude, Egghead!” Eggman pushed his knees together as he hung off the side of a dock, blushing slightly in glee.

“You’re a swell dude, Eggman!” Now they were bungie-jumping together, bouncing up and laughing.

“You’re a swell dude, Eggface!” “I am, aren’t I?” They were now both relaxing with the twins massaging their backs.

“Swell dude!” “Swell guy!” “Swell!” “Sweeeeeellll~” “So swell!” “All the swell!” “Eggman’s SWEEEELLLL~”

“DOCTOR EGGMAN!”

Suddenly, Eggman snapped out of it.

“W-wha-wha-what, huh?” He looked down, seeing the controls, and taking them slowly.. almost softly, as if sorrow was creeping into his heart, within his hands…

Peering down at it… he tuned out Orbot… telling him that Amy was standing outside her house, desperately searching for her headband, which was why she told Sonic she was busy.

Presenting it back to her on the big screen’s in Eggman’s lair, Sonic stuck a toe up and leaned back, rubbing the back of his head with a nervous smile, as Amy was happy to find it; but… seemed confused on the repairs.

“She’s taking the bait! Now’s your chance!” Orbot urged, helping the Doctor to scoot closer to the monitor, still holding the controls to Amy’s headband.

“….No.” Eggman put the device down.

“Huh?” 

“But Doctor-!” Cubot reached up but Eggman shook his head.

“I can’t! I won’t do it!” He slammed his hands into the control panel. “Sonic holds me in high regards now! You know how hard that is to come by? A little appreciation now and again from your mortal enemy? It’s hard stuff!”

On the screen, Amy giggled and shrugged off the poor repair job. “Aw, that’s alright. I’m just so glad you found it!”

“Oh yeah. I had to tussle with ol’Eggface to get it. Haha! He’s a terrible kleptomaniac when it comes down to it.”

Eggman’s face scrunched up into bitter anger.

He picked up the controller, his fingers firing off command codes onto it.

“He’s going down SO. HARD. Right now!” he clicked the button once she placed the headband on, and suddenly her body freaked out and the screen was now a fighter’s game data chart.

“Kick, kick left! No, right!” Cubot started backstreet driving, clinging on Eggman’s right shoulder as Orbot leaped in too.

“No, no! Go for the combo upper-cut! She’s good at the hammer throw dodge-bait!”

“WOULD YOU TWO QUIT IT!?” Eggman growled, as Sonic tried to dodge the attacks.

“What’s happening!?” Amy shouted out, her arms throwing her hammer around without her control. “I can’t stop it!”

“Huh? Hmm..” Sonic narrowed his eyes, “Eggman must have done something to the headband!” He jumped and curled, knocking into her hand taking the headband off.

Above her, he seemed a little frazzled, but she calmed down and looked up, also turning red on her muzzle…

The two leaped away, awkwardly laughing and commentating on what just happened..

“Haha… you spinned into my head and um… haha…”

“Y-yeah.. and got the headband but you fell over… and um… haha…”

“Haha… good times.” Amy took the headband and removed the stitches, pulling the chip out. “I could always sow it back up again…”

“…I could… um…” Sonic stepped forward, being a bit shy. “…I have some extra bucks? Wants to buy a new one?”

“Oh you would!?” Amy lifted a leg up behind her. “AHH~ Shopping spree!”

“W-wait, I didn’t say I was rich-! AHH!” he got roped along behind her as she whisked him off to the village.

“Great.” Eggman leaned back in his chair, sitting down. “Not only do I suck at combo reactions, but I also just got him a free date.” he threw the remote and rubbed his face, sulking it down.

“I hate that blue hedgehog… all this stress is furthering my wrinkles…”

“Oh, but look on the bright side!” Orbot brought out a hot drink for him and set it down in his hand. “At least now you can sleep without Sonic sighing all the-”

SIIIIIGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHH~

Eggman leaped up from his seat, “WHAT NOW?! it hasn’t even been five min-!” he shifted his spybot and saw Amy was the one sighing now, seeming bored with all the choices Sonic was picking.

“No, no. The green one. See? Matches my eyes~” she batted them and he looked frustrated, “THEY’RE ALL THE SAME COLOR!”

“Are you AND Knuckles colorblind?”

“Is that why the purple shell looked orange?”

She sighed again, and in the distance, the two could hear Eggman flipping a lid and shouting to the blue heavens his utter and complete rage quit.

The two took a picture of Amy’s new headband, and Amy hash-tagged it, “SO calling this a date!”

[whatplanetdididial]

OTP Week - Freebie!

My freebie is a crossover, so technically I’m not late.

Type: One-shot Characters: Ishida Yamato, Takenouchi Sora, Yagami Taichi, Matsuda Takato Rating: T (for language) Word count: 2,786 (oops, went a bit long here…) Summary: An Adventure/Tamers Crossover in which Ishida Yamato learns that he doesn’t really like vortexes. Or Matsuda Takato.

“Girls have this uncanny ability to get you to do things that you never would have done otherwise, and the moment you realize you’ve been willingly letting it happen, it’ll already be too late. She’ll have snuck her way into your heart and there’ll be nothing you can do about it.”

The flashback came without warning as he stood watching Taichi and Sora fight each other for the last open swing of the playground. It originally looked like Sora was going to win, but at the last second, Taichi whispered into her ear with a brief glance his way, causing her to whip around and retort something back that Yamato was too far away to hear. In the end, Sora gave up the seat and Taichi plunked himself down with a victorious grin.

It was almost comical that the old memory came to him today, of all days. When he was originally given the ‘puberty and crushes’ speech, his father’s words went in one ear and out the other. Girls were nothing but trouble, and there was no way he’d ever succumb to their wily charms. Falling in love only ended in disaster and he wanted no part in it.

“You’ve got that look like you’d rather be anywhere else but here.”

But now, his dad’s advice was all starting to click into place, whether he was ready to face it or not.

Cursing his inattentiveness, he turned to face her and wondered how long she had been standing next to him. Her head was tilted to the side and she was smiling teasingly at him, making him tense up slightly. He never knew how to feel about Sora’s unique talent of reading him so easily, especially since she was particularly hard to read herself.

“I just don’t want to intrude, you know?” he replied, shrugging his shoulders indifferently.

Almost everyone knew that Taichi and Sora went to the playground after school on Fridays. Yamato found it a bit odd since 14 seemed to be too old to still be going to the playground, but apparently it was a tradition that started when they were little, and according to Taichi, they’d be going to the playground every Friday until they were 50. He should have never accepted their invite.

“It’s not intruding, Yamato, we want you here!”

It wasn’t like he didn’t enjoy hanging out with the two of them together; the problem was that there were times when it was painfully obvious that Taichi and Sora were much closer to each other than he was with either of them. And after finally caving in to their 20,938th invite, here he was, as expected, feeling incredibly awkward. And maybe, possibly, even a tiny bit jealous.

“Come on, let’s go sit on those animal springy things.”

She took his hand and dragged him over to the blacktop where the playground equipment was designed to look like different animals on large, metal springs for young children to sit and rock back and forth on. Sora eventually dropped his hand and dashed for one that was yellow and shaped like a duck and immediately pointed to the one next to her that was supposed to be a gray dog.

“If you squint hard enough, it kinda looks like Gabumon,” she said with a twinkle in her eye.

A bright smile lit up her face the moment she started swaying, and Yamato found himself staring at her longer than was probably appropriate. Flushed and embarrassed, he diverted his eyes to look back at Taichi, who happened to be engaged in a swinging competition with a kid next to him, the two laughing hysterically as they climbed higher and higher. He felt a pang of envy as his best friends let loose, carefree of any ridicule or judgment. Why did he have to be such a stick in the mud?

“You know, if you think you’re too good for the playground, you didn’t have to come.”

His head snapped around to look back at Sora, but she wore a playful smile that had him letting out a silent sigh of relief.

“Come on, Yamato, sit down with me, please? You don’t even have to move or anything, you can just sit still. If you want, I’ll tell everyone I blackmailed you into doing it so you don’t lose your ‘cool image,’” she smirked, gesturing widely at the entire playground. Her mocking tone wasn’t lost on him as he looked around and confirmed that the three of them were easily the only ones over eight years old.

“Well, if you insist,” he trailed as he sat down on the proffered spring rider.

“I do.”

It took him less than two seconds to realize he was too large for the toy. He could hardly fit himself onto saddle part and his legs were so long that he had no idea where to place them. After a bit of internal debating, he settled on planting his feet directly onto the blacktop instead of in the footholds. It wasn’t comfortable, per se, but it was much better than his original position.

When he looked back up, Sora was giggling at him.

“What?” he said indignantly. “I’m way taller than you, you don’t have the same problem.”

“I know,” she laughed. “It’s just, um…well, it was just cute watching you struggle,” she admitted, turning pink.

His stomach flipped over, and he fought the urge to smile stupidly.

“Well, I’m glad you were amused at my expense,” he replied smoothly, making sure to keep his tone even and unaffected.

He was grappling in the back of his mind for something else to say when he heard a loud bang come from somewhere behind the park, not far off from where they were.  The two turned to investigate the sound and caught sight of an incriminating flash of rainbow-hued light, not unlike the one that had previously taken them to the digital world years ago. Yamato looked around to see if anyone else had noticed the disturbance, only to see Taichi sprinting in the direction of the light determinedly. After sharing a brief look with Sora, they both followed suit and ran after their friend.

Bushes and tall trees surrounded them when they finally caught up to Taichi. He was walking around in circles, scratching the top of his head in confusion before turning to face them.

“Didn’t that light look like a portal to you guys? I could have sworn that blast came from somewhere around this area.”

“Yeah, I thought the same thing,” Yamato agreed, looking around to see if anything was out of the ordinary, to no avail.

“But if it was a portal, what do you think happened?” Sora asked hesitantly. “Something from the Digital World could be around here and might need our help.”

“Thing is,” Taichi started, “I didn’t see anything unusual anywhere. I pretty much searched the entire place before you guys arrived. You two are really slow, by the way.”

Not even bothering to roll his eyes, Yamato posed the question they were all thinking.

“Well, what do we do now?”

The following silence was cut short by a shrill voice.

“Oh my god, you look exactly like Yagami Taichi from Digimon Adventure!”

Facing the trio stood a young boy with a hooded, blue shirt, gray cut-off pants, green sneakers, and, most notably, a pair of circular, yellow goggles resting on top of his head. Taichi raised an eyebrow at the newcomer and opened his mouth to say something in response, but was cut off by another cry.

“Oh wow, and Ishida Yamato! And Takenouchi Sora! Are you guys cosplaying or something? Your costumes are amazing! You look like you guys came straight out of the TV show!” he continued to ramble excitedly.

“Hey look, kid,” Taichi began. “I don’t know who you are and why you know our names, but what’s your deal? What’s this show you’re going on about?”

Something about this kid and his mention of digimon made Yamato uneasy.

“Nice try, guys. Do you play the game as well? I definitely do! I have all my cards here with me, see? I was going to play against Hirokazu later today, he’s really good,” the boy prattled as he pulled multiple small cards out of his pockets, thrusting them into Taichi’s hands.

“That’s one of my favorites, there. Greymon, like the one Taichi has!”

Yamato and Sora bent over Taichi’s shoulders to get a better look. Sure enough, an image of a Greymon was staring back at them, complete with stats and attacks they had all seen Taichi’s Greymon do in person.

“These look nothing like the cards Gennai gave us that one time…” Sora murmured, her voice fading.

“What in the world?” Taichi whispered, more to himself than anyone.

“I’m Matsuda Takato, by the way,” the boy chirped. “Nice to meet you guys!”

Trees rustled in the background, heightening the offending silence.

“Um, Takato…” Sora replied carefully, trying to find the right words. “I don’t mean any offense, but where did you happen to come from?”

Takato shifted for a moment as if he just remembered something important, eyes wandering anywhere else but at the three of them.

“Ah, w-well, you s-s-see…” he stuttered. He looked around like he was expecting something to appear beside him. “Actually, I dunno if I should say anything, you guys might think I’m crazy.”

“Crazy is our specialty, try us,” Yamato urged.

Glancing around one last time, Takato seemed to finally yield to the fact that he was not going anywhere without some kind of an explanation. He rubbed his neck nervously before responding.

“I was trying to find… my pet. And I kindagotsuckedintoavortexandnowI’mhere.”

“Maybe try that a bit slower there, buddy,” Taichi grinned.

“I was trying to find my pet.”

“Uh huh…” Yamato goaded.

“And then there was this vortex.”

“Vortex?” Sora prodded.

“Yeah. Like there was this huge beam of light! And usually it takes me… well anyway, I ran into the vortex and I ended up here.”

Yamato scrunched his eyes in scrutiny.

“So you’ve seen this… vortex before. Where does it normally take you?”

Takato fidgeted anxiously.

“You’re not going to believe me.”

“Look, just tell us what actually happened,” Taichi blurted out, exasperated. “We’ve seen some really weird shit before, and I don’t think there’s anything you can say that’s going to blow our minds.”

“Taichi!” Sora admonished.

“What our foul-mouthed friend is trying to say is that you don’t have to worry about sounding dumb or anything, you can trust us,” Yamato tried to say consolingly. Takato only arched an eyebrow skeptically.

“You can call each other by your real names now, you know. It’s kind of weirding me out that you’re still using the show’s names.”

“That is my–”

“What do you mean by real names?” Sora interrupted Taichi. “We haven’t even technically introduced ourselves yet, you just happened to know who we were.”

Takato laughed loudly.

“Is this some sort of joke? Are you guys really trying to convince me you’re Taichi, Yamato, and Sora from Digimon Adventure? You’re pretty good actors, but I’m not that stupid. Even though Ruki always calls me stupid. Actually, I bet if Ruki were here she’d be able to prove she knows even more about the TV show than you guys! She’s the Digimon Queen everyone talks about.”

“Digimon Queen?” Yamato mused aloud.

“Hey, you’ve got some nerve calling us TV show characters, kid. Maybe you were too young when it all happened, but everything you saw on TV that night we beat Apoclymon was real!” Taichi retorted heatedly.

“Oh yeah? Prove it,” Takato taunted smugly.

At once, Taichi, Yamato, and Sora pulled out their digivices simultaneously and held them out for Takato to see.

“You think toy digivices are going to convince me?” Takato scoffed. “I have four of those at home, myself.”

“This is absolutely ridiculous,” Sora mumbled as she rummaged in her back pocket. Pulling out her phone, she clicked a few buttons before shoving the screen into Takato’s face.

“What… what the heck?”

Takato suddenly backed up a few paces, staring wide-eyed at Sora. His eyes traveled over to Taichi, moved on to Yamato, then settled back to the picture of Sora and Biyomon on the device, shaking his head violently.

“No, no way. This… there’s no way. Nope.”

Nobody said a word for two full minutes.

“I know! That vortex must have taken me to an alternate reality where Digimon Adventure actually happened!” Takato finally cried out.

The trio eyed each other suspiciously.

“Taichi, you once pushed Agumon so hard that he dark evolved into SkullGreymon. And Yamato, you were convinced by Jyureimon that Taichi was your enemy when you went off on your own, and Sora you were the one that helped give Takeru hope by stealing Yamato’s keychain before Piemon was defeated!”

“I…” Yamato murmured, voice petering out.

“How does he…” Sora started before lapsing into silence, staring off into the woods in a daze.

Taichi could only stare blankly at Takato.

“I stand corrected. This is the weirdest thing that has ever happened to us,” he stated matter-of-factly. “Look Takato, I think the best thing for us to do is try to get you back to… your world. Maybe we can look around to see if there’s another vortex somewhere or something.”

“Wow,” Takato sighed in admiration. “You’re just as commanding in real life as you are on the show! No wonder you became a successful salaryman!”

“What…”

“Oh wait, but you wouldn’t know that yet! How weird, I know your guys’s futures but it hasn’t even happened to you yet!”

“I agree, I think it’s just time to help you try to get home,” Sora interjected, not wanting him to say anything further. “Maybe you can help lead us back to where the vortex originated?”

“Have you started studying fashion yet?” he directed at her with way too much enthusiasm. “Man, I can’t even tell where you guys are at right now. Have the others already defeated BelialVamdemon?”

Taichi groaned.

“Okay, you can stop with the future talk now.”

“Did you know you finally cut your hair when you get older? I always liked how big hair was kind of your thing, but I guess you grow out of it eventually.”

Taichi rubbed a hand through his hair worriedly.

“Takato, man, you’ve got to stop talking or we’re going to just leave you here to fend for yourself,” Yamato grumbled.

“Aww, I know, but I can’t help it! This is just so exciting! Have you formed your band yet? Did you know you have a concert that digimon end up crashing in the real world? It was a Christmas episode!”

“Takato…” Sora whimpered.

Yamato had already started to stalk off when he caught the last bit of Takato’s next outburst.

“… are you guys dating yet?”

Spinning on the spot, he eyed Takato as the boy whipped his head back and forth between Yamato and Sora.

“Huh, guess not.”

Immediately Taichi bent over, guffawing wildly and pointing intermittently at his two friends.

“Oh my god, it actually happens! Sora, your wildest dreams do come true!”

“Taichi!” she shrieked, smacking him forcefully on his upper arm. Burning red, she covered her face with her hands and made a few muffled sounds that nobody could understand.

Yamato couldn’t decide if he wanted to go comfort Sora or to run far, far away, never to be seen again.

Takato finally had the decency to look ashamed for his brazen comments. He looked down timidly started to draw circles in the dirt with his foot.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you guys.”

With Sora hiding behind her hands and Taichi still giggling uncontrollably, Takato sent a sheepish look Yamato’s way.

“It’s fine,” Yamato replied curtly. “We’re going to go though, I think you can handle this one on your own, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Takato mumbled. “I’m pretty positive another vortex will appear soon, so don’t worry about me.”

“Come on, Sora, stop being so embarrassed. Let’s all go home and we can forget this ever happened. Right, Yamato?” Taichi said with a grin, hooking his arm around her shoulder, and pulling her back towards the playground. “Any parting words before we go, my young friend?”

Yamato could already sense that he should have walked away much, much earlier.

“If it makes you feel any better, you two get married in the end.”

Yamato’s last image before turning away was Taichi doubling over onto the forest floor, rolling around laughing, while Sora sank to her knees in sheer mortification.

He wondered if his dad would have any girl advice for him now after explaining today’s events.

He was really going to need it.

[thatpeskyboat]

Milo’s Training

Another thing that I wrote for one of the campers at Camp BAMF! Really, it’s a dramatisation of one of the events that actually happened, but I still felt like writing it.

Milo is a wonderful individual, and part of the Ursidae Cabin! He’s also an excellent artist, and you should totally check him out!

Remember to check out the official Camp BAMF tumblr for cool things other people have done and maybe join up yourself!

STATS: Words: 2854 Gore Rating: Pretty much non-existent Abstractness: Kinda Swearing: A bit POV: Second Person

Kayak stands in the middle of the Arena, her void sword held between her two hands. She seems to be hyper-focused on something in front of her, unmoving. Then, with a yell, she hefts the sword up and swings it back down. The sound of tearing fills the air as a scarecrow falls apart before her, clothes ripped. You take a moment to appreciate the raw power of that sword wielded by the boat-named girl. What you know about her is that she's pretty friendly, memey, and one of the Damage campers of Ursidae. You weren't around for the last raid, but she's apparently pretty unpredictable when it comes to that sort of thing. A heavy hitter maybe? You aren't sure, but she offered to teach you the basics of combat. All you need to know to become a good little soldier in these weird war things that are waged against the camp. A bat hangs from her hip, and some kind of otherworldly rifle hangs from the other one. This girl seems loaded when it comes to the weapon department. "Hey, Kayak? I am here and ready to learn." At the sound of your voice, Kayak turns to look around at you, the sword sliding into it's sheathe across her back. She beams widely, walking over to you with a bounce in her step. She seems excited about the fact that the Arena was open, and perhaps even more excited about the fact that someone had actually come to look. Before she could actually say anything, you blurt out with a, "I should probably pick a weapon first though." "Okay!" She replies cheerily, leading you to the armoury. There were a lot of weapons here, some of which seemed to a tad... questionable. Syringe guns, reality augmented daggers, whips... It suddenly occurred to you that you knew absolutely nothing about any of them. "Uh... how do I know which one is good for me?" You ask her. It's almost possible to see the cogs turning in the girl's head as she ponders this herself. A brainwave seems to hit her with a spark. "Hold on," She says. With that, she goes over to the armoury radio, flicking it on. "I might be able to give you my Braton seeing as I have one of the Void Weapons." The explanation was given briefly, before she turned her attention back to the radio. After a few more flicks of the radio, it crackled to life, static filling the air. Your fellow Ursidae camper flashed you a smile before lifting the microphone to her mouth. "Mem? Is it possible that I can give my Braton to Milo?" She asked the radio, saying the name of your counsellor. However, there was no reply. Just when she was about to speak again, another counsellor appeared. Eir long, lustrous hair was flipped over eir shoulder as ey walked into the armoury, looking at Kayak and yourself. After a few moments, ey walked towards Kayak, taking the Braton off of her and handing it to you. Kayak looked a little surprised from the action. "I got you." Ey said, calmly. "Thanks, 'Thias." "Here to help. Just be sure to mention to Mem that I did that so they can update their records." "Yeah, I will. Don't worry about it." With that, you and Kayak left the armoury as 'Thias did a peace sign with eir fingers. Once back at the Arena, you grin at Kayak, holding your shiny second-hand Braton up. "I now have a gun... thing!" A laugh came from Kayak as she stretched out, before looking you in the eye. "Okay, so Milo? We're gonna take this nice and easy, okay?" It's obvious that she's trying to be reassuring, but she mostly just looks excited. It's a little bit scary, but it's somehow working. "That sounds good." You nod. "You're a Support camper right?" Another nod from you. "Right. You're gonna be the one mostly throwing attacks at the thing I'm gonna give you, but I'll step in when it's time to use your Support powers. Got it?" "Got it," You swallow, feeling a little anxious about it all again. She gives you a reassuring smile. "Another thing. Here, we don't have to worry about waiting for it to be safe for us to attack again after throwing what we got at it. However, in a real raid up against the big boys, it takes about an hour for us to be able to find an opening to attack safely. Unless you do really badly. Then whoever we're attacking is more likely to notice us." Kayak sucked a breath in through her teeth. "Makes sense," You nod along in agreement, before a question hits you, "Can you... explain buffs to me?" "Yeah. So, excluding the signature buffs of the Den Mother and the counsellors for now, as a Support camper, it's unlikely that you'll be buffed. Instead, you'll be the one doing the buffing! If you end up missing whatever we're trying to hit, it's more than likely that you'll be able to buff a cabin-mate. You know, whatever feels most strongly to you. There are three kinds of Buffs that you support guys can use. Kinda really uncreatively named too. "Support one provides you with the ability to create a safe opening for another cabin-mate, letting them attack again as soon as you buff them. Support two means that you can help another camper focus more for their next hit, whether it be focused on how easy it is for them to hit or how hard they hit the mother fucker. Support three is your most powerful buff by far, and probably your best friend. It lets you focus power into two of your cabin-mates, making them more focused and stronger as WELL as providing them with a safe passage to strike again. Pretty nifty huh?" Kayak counts off the support buffs on her fingers as she goes through them, before looking at you inquisitively. "Got it." You confirm. "Okay, so..." "Yes?" "I'm... trying to figure out how to word my question." The boat nods, telling you to take your time. The phrasing finally comes to you properly, "So, since I'm a support do I buff people instead of attacking? Or both? Do I do that with my Braton?" Kayak opened her mouth to answer you again, before a voice cut her off. "Depends on what happens." It was 'Thias again, stealing Kayak's thunder. "If you hit it, then you deal damage. If you miss, you'll probably able to power up with a support buff." "Unless you're like me and constantly somehow hit yourself all the time because of debuffs." Kayak interjects, grinning. "Well, let's not talk about debuffs just yet." Ey say, side-eyeing Kayak. "Yeah, that's for in a few minutes." She agrees. "Alright," You say, just to get everything straight in your head. "So hitting it usually means I won't power up with a buff, but if I don't it usually means that I can buff someone?" "Well. Most of the time." "Usually." "Yeah, basically. Most of the Raid Bosses can be pretty hard to hit. Hold up, let me grab the Training Dummy." With that, Kayak rushes off somewhere in order to find the training dummy. It isn't long before she returns with something that looks suspiciously like a shop mannequin, but repurposed for having the shit beaten out of it. Kayak grins, looking at it proudly. You decide to not question as to where she got it from. "Now, the training dummy is pretty easy to hit. Since it has the Immobile trait, it grants you a +3 buff to your hit, but it's also pretty tough so it has a -1 debuff to the damage you'll cause it." Something clicks in your head as she says this. "Ohhh, the hit bonuses and stuff come specific to the thing we're fighting?" Kayak nods. "Yeah, and to your weapon." "Gotcha, gotcha." "Raid bosses are obviously harder to hit because of the fact that they move, and the fact that they're tougher. Statistically, if you don't end up powering up and being able to give a support buff, you'll end up hitting it." "Cool." Kayak shifts a little, before unsheathing her Dead-Star Sword. The metal seems infinite, heavy, and unrelenting. Looking at it is starting to give you a headache. You instead turn your attention to Kayak, who's lining her sword up. "I'm gonna go ahead and hit it first to show you what's the business with all this, okay?" "Okay!" With that, Kayak swings the sword, the rush of the metal through the air making a quiet hissing sound as it burns the gases surrounding it. She misses completely with an irritated grunt. "Oh, my god." She mutters. "As a Support, a miss like that would more than likely have you able to be able to apply..." A moment of thought passes, "A buff three to someone? But since I'm a damage, it just makes me cry." She jokes, running a finger down her cheek in imitation of a tear. "Rip." Such good commentary from you. She continues, "The dummy, because it can't move, has a buff to my hit and my weapon has no withdraws in regards to how I hit it." Kayak explains, before swinging the sword again. Another terrible miss. "Oh my GOD." With that, she lifts the sword, placing it on the dummy's shoulder and forcing it down into it. "There we go, for the sake of actually fucking hitting it." She sounds frustrated. You're mildly amused by this. 'Thias appears again, shaking eir head at Kayak. "You gotta actually swing at the dummy, you butthead." "I know, 'Thias, I'm just not going to keep swinging until I hit it because that could be in six thousand years!" She whines, loudly. "Anyway, since I very clearly hit the dummy-" Kayak's cut off by 'Thias lunging eir flagpole down at the dummy, impaling it through the opposite shoulder. "I swear to god-" She mutters, before being cut off by 'Thias. "Normal bosses won't just stand around and let you do what she just did." "Yeah." "Side note: I find it hilarious that I struck it in the identical place on the other side." "Side note: I'm crying about that." "I'll let you go back to walking Milo through, you seem to have a handle on things." 'Thias says, flipping eir magnificent hair over eir shoulder before disappearing again. "Thanks, 'Thias." Kayak smiles and waves at 'Thias as ey leave, before continuing with what she had been telling you. "Anyway, I'm going to show you how much damage that my sword did in that 'strike.'" She pulls out the weapon from the dummy, slicing through more of the plastic with a slight sizzle. "I did quite a bit of damage there. P cool, right?" "Yeah!!" You answer enthusiastically, eager to try it out yourself. Maybe it's the sadist in you, but you want to beat this dummy up a little. "Should I go now?" "Yep!" With that, you heft your rifle up, aiming at the dummy. Kayak back-steps a little bit, making sure that she's out of firing range. She wouldn't want to get hit by a firing mishap. She puts her thumbs up, and you take a breath. A few moments later, your finger pulls the trigger, and the gun recoils at the blast. You look up, and realise that you missed completely. A small feeling gnaws in the back of your stomach. "That'd be... a buff one, right?" "Probably. But here, buff one doesn't really matter. I'll just attack again for now." With that, she hefts her sword up, swinging it hard at the dummy. The attack slices through the torso, the plastic sizzling in it's wake. She grins. "Sometimes, you can attack perfectly. This is considered a critical attack, and it means that you do way more damage. It also stuns whatever you're attacking, giving you an opening to attack again safely." "And that's specific to your weapon, right?" "Yeah. Well, the critical rating is at least." She pulled her sword back, walking away and gesturing to the dummy. "Okay, now you go again." "Ah, okay." You level your rifle at the dummy again before firing at it. For some reason, you closed your eyes, but the whoop from Kayak tells you that you did gud. "Hey, you hit that fucker!" She looks ecstatic. For a moment, you thought that you had a Support buff, but nothing within is telling you so. You both walk up to the dummy, and Kayak leans against it. "You didn't do as much damage as you thought you did." She comments, "The dummy's pretty tough, but it's okay seeing as most people forget about boss debuffs." She's talking in the abstract again. Another swing with that sword is thrown at the dummy, opening up another huge gash against its torso. Her face lights up as she looks at her sword. "As a Damage camper, I tend to do a lot of damage as the name implies. Especially with this weapon holy shIT!" Voice cracking towards the end, Kayak looks at you excitedly. "Gotcha." You say, before shooting at the target yourself. The bullet explodes against the outside of the dummy, doing a little bit of damage. Quickly, Kayak attacks, slicing through the dummy again and doing considerably more damage than your bullet did. "Cool! So, about tracking damage and such." You start, making Kayak look at you inquisitively. She gives a shrug. "Usually, the counsellors and Max track the vitals through some kind of special device. We all have a smaller, simpler one so we can see what's going on and how close we are to beating it. That was implemented after Ursidae cabin continued to beat up Nega-Mem, even two days after it'd died. They also track how much damage we do." "We can reasonably die, right? How do I know how hurt I am and the such?" That is obviously not what Kayak was expecting, but she shrugs it off with a smile. "Oh, you don't have to worry about that. We only attack the bosses when we're safe to. The staff wouldn't let us put ourselves in direct danger. The only things we really suffer from them are the debuffs, which are usually some form of physical restriction." "Cool, cool." For a moment, you sound confident, like you know exactly what she's talking about. In reality, you have no idea. "What are debuffs again?" "Basically things that effect your ability to deal damage or accurately hit the enemy." "Oh, so the opposite of buffs. Got it." "You want to attack again?" "Yeah!" You exclaim, before aiming again. Kayak dashes out of the way as you let loose with another bullet. It strikes square, before bouncing off of the dummy. "I am Tough now." You say, proudly. Kayak is also beaming with pride. "You are tough. I am proud of you." Almost lazily, Kayak takes another swing at the dummy, slicing it's head off. The head hits the ground with a dull thunk, before Kayak looks at you with a serious glint in her eye. "A thing you gotta remember is that in a usual raid, we wouldn't be able to just hammer away at a boss's health like this. We'd have to wait for another safe opening." You chuckle for a moment, almost nervously. "Do you think you have your head around it all, or do you wanna hammer away at the dummy some more?" There isn't time for you to reply to her, someone knocking on the entryway of the Arena. "Miss Kayak? A quick word." She turns around sharply at the voice, eyes widening. There's something familiar about this guy, but Kayak looks anxious about him. It clicks in your head as you realise that he's the Camp Director, Max, and he wants her attention for something. She walks over to him briskly, that nervousness still on her face. Words are exchanged, before you decide to actually walk over there. Now, Kayak seems to be welling with pride a little, a grin impossible to get off of her face. Something is said about her becoming the camp quartermaster, and a Lupus camper came in. "Congrats Kayak!" He said, and you vaguely remembered that his name was Square or something similar. "Congrats Kayak!" You parrot the words, but you're every bit as sincere as the other guy. More words are exchanged between Kayak and the Director, before she says something about patching the dummy up. "Unless Milo wants to keep hitting it." You grin, before shaking your head at the new Camp BAMF Quartermaster. "Nope, I think I've got it. Thanks Kayak!" "No problem dude! Have fun hitting the next boss!" "Thank you!" The exclamation is the last to come from your mouth as you leave the Arena. You feel more confident now, knowing that you weren't going to be completely lost next time an enemy appears and decides to try and wreck the camp's shit. You are ready.