#or no rigging cause rigging is the fucking worst and i hate it and it sucks and pteryx is stronger than i am

[keferon]

May I ask what were the best transformers media you ever saw/read?

Well Transformers Prime, Transformers 1986 and IDW comics are having the first place that’s for sure

And then the second place is kind of shared by Fall of Cybertron, Exodus, Prime wars trilogy, Robots in disguise(2001) and Transformers One.

The third place goes to G1, Animated, Earthspark, Armada, War for Cybertron Netflix series, Aligned Robots in disguise, Bumblebee, Rise of the Beasts and Cyberverse because I only liked some little parts of them.

And then I also saw some of the Bay movies, Victory and Headmasters and didn’t like them at all.

Separate first place for J-Decker. It is not exactly Transformers but it is a show about giant robots and I loved it

[seungsluv]

the way I loved you

── .✦ content warning : SMUT! MDI!! fem!reader; academic rivals; enemies with benefits; one bed trope; angry love confession in the rain; explicit sex; oral (f and m receiving); dry humping; unproteced sex; litgh degratation; public sex; kinda sub seung;

✮⋆˙ pairing: academic rival seungmin × fem!reader

✮⋆˙ word count: 14,4k

✮⋆˙ synopsis: “We were academic rivals — until we weren’t. Now I can’t tell if I want to outscore him or ride him until he begs.”

✮⋆˙ A/N: heyy!! I had so much fun writing this one cause I kinda reunited all my fav tropes together, so I hope you guys enjoyed it!! please reblog it and lmk what you think ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა

I hated him. Absolutely hated.

Hated those stupid, wide puppy eyes that tricked everyone into thinking he was harmless. Hated the way his hair flopped perfectly over his forehead like he was in some damn shampoo commercial. Hated those stupid, plump lips that probably got away with too much just by existing.

But most of all — I hated that smile. That pretty, cocky smile he flashed like he knew something I didn’t.

Every time he looked at me with that skeptical little tilt of his head, the one that screamed “I'm better than you haha” — yes, I could hear the cartoon villain laugh — I knew, deep in my soul, that I could strangle him.

Still debating tho if I’d prefer to do it with my hands or my thighs.

The worst part? It wasn’t just rage pooling low in my stomach.

It pissed me off how he could make me hate him and want him at the same time.

Fucking disgusting.

When Professor Lee handed back our essays and Seungmin’s stupid name was sitting pretty at the top with a shiny gold “A+”, I didn’t even think.

I whipped my head around, caught his eyes across the lecture hall, and mouthed: “Rigged.”

His mouth curved into that slow, infuriating smirk, the kind that crawled under my skin and set it on fire.

He leaned back in his chair, arms folded behind his head like he owned the goddamn place, and mouthed back, exaggerated and slow: “Don't be mad just because you’re second best, sweetheart.”

Complete with a wink.

A goddamn wink.

I could feel the heat rising from my chest to my ears. Rage. Or something dangerously close to it.

Seungmin tilted his head, still watching me like I was a particularly amusing science experiment. His eyes glinted, and I knew — I knew — he wasn’t going to let this go.

When class ended, I shoved my notebook into my bag and bolted for the door, hoping he’d get the hint. Of course he didn’t.

He caught up easily, his steps lazy, hands shoved in his hoodie pockets like he hadn’t just declared academic war ten minutes ago.

“Rough day, princess?” he asked, voice dripping mock-sympathy.

I didn’t even look at him. “Bite me, Seungmin.”

“Careful,” he said, his voice dropping half an octave. “Might take that as an invitation.”

I stopped walking and turned to him so fast he almost collided with me. He did collide, his chest bumping into mine with a low thud that made both of us stiffen on reflex.

For a second — a stupid, reckless second — we just stood there. Breathing the same air. Close enough that I could see the tiny mole in the middle of the bridge of his nose. Close enough that I could smell the faint hint of mint gum and something warm and boyish underneath.

His eyes flickered down to my mouth — fast, involuntary. My heart hammered against my ribs. Not from fear. From something far worse. He caught himself a beat too late and pulled back a step, but it was already too late.

I smirked.

“Problem?” he asked, trying to sound bored, but his voice was rougher now. Edgier.

“You wish,” I snapped, shoving his chest lightly with my hand.

It wasn’t enough to move him, but it made him smile — that crooked, infuriating, I-know-you-want-me smile. I wanted to punch him. Or grab him by the hoodie strings and crash our mouths together. Maybe both.

“Tell you what,” he said, hands sliding casually into his pockets, pretending like his pulse wasn’t visible on his throat. “Winner of the next project challenge picks a punishment for the loser. No rules.”

I raised an eyebrow, chest still rising and falling too fast. “You’re serious?”

He nodded, slow, like daring me to back down. “Afraid to lose?” he teased, voice pure poison wrapped in honey.

I narrowed my eyes. “You're on.”

His smirk stretched wider — a flash of sharp teeth and gleaming mischief. “Try not to cry when you lose, princess.”

“Worry about your own dignity first, loser.”

He stepped closer again — not touching, but close enough that my body registered the heat pouring off him. “Oh, princess…” he murmured, low and deliberate. “You’ll be begging me for mercy by the end of it.”

Then, without waiting for my reply, he turned on his heel and walked away, hands in his pockets, whistling some stupid upbeat tune like he hadn’t just detonated a bomb between us.

I stood there, heart pounding, palms sweating, fists clenched at my sides. Already plotting how I was going to destroy him.

Or how I was going to let him destroy me.

Maybe both.

If working in the same room as Seungmin was supposed to be a punishment from hell, it was starting to feel a lot more like slow torture.

The worst kind. The kind where you like it.

We weren’t even officially working together — our articles were separate — but somehow, like roaches or debt collectors, he always managed to appear wherever I was: library, café, empty classrooms.

And every time, the same thing: Provocations. Smirks. Stupid bets.

We sat across from each other now, laptops open, papers strewn everywhere. My screen glowed under the cheap library lights, reflecting the blank document I hadn't touched in twenty minutes.

Because Seungmin was there. Existing. Breathing. Tapping his stupid pen against his stupid mouth like he had no idea how distracting he was.

I chewed the end of my pencil, glaring at my thesis statement like it was all its fault.

“Need help, princess?” he drawled, spinning lazily in his chair.

“I'd rather set myself on fire,” I muttered, not looking up.

He chuckled under his breath — that soft, infuriating laugh that always made my skin prickle.

I refused to glance at him. Refused to notice the way his sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, veins visible on his forearms. Refused to notice how he tapped his pen in an unconscious rhythm that somehow matched the way my heart stuttered when he leaned back and stretched like a smug little shit.

Focus. Focus.

I bent lower over my keyboard, typing harder than necessary.

He reached across the table to steal my highlighter, and his fingers brushed mine — quick, electric. My body jolted before my brain could catch up.

He smirked. Saw it. Filed it away for later.

I hated him. Absolutely hated.

If hating him included wondering what his hands would feel like pressed somewhere else, well — that was between me and my rapidly deteriorating sanity.

Three hours, five insults, and two coffee runs later, we submitted our articles

I stood stiffly at the front of the lecture hall, arms crossed, waiting for the verdict. Seungmin stood next to me, too close. His shoulder brushed mine once. I moved. He moved closer again.

Asshole.

Professor Lee shuffled through the papers, humming thoughtfully.

Finally, he smiled — a slow, proud smile. “Excellent work from both of you.”

I exhaled. Barely.

“But…” He held up one article.

And I saw it. My name. Bold. Clear. Victorious. I blinked. Once. Twice. I won.

The shock punched through me, followed by something molten and dizzying: triumph. I turned slowly to Seungmin, ready to gloat.

His face was unreadable — that blank, impassive mask he wore when he didn’t want anyone to know he was losing his shit inside. Which meant he was furious.

I smiled sweetly. Sickeningly. “Aw. Better luck next time, loser.”

He tilted his head, mouth twitching like he was fighting a smirk.

“Don’t get too cocky. One win doesn’t make you better.”

“No, but it makes you worse.”

He stepped closer, enough that I had to tilt my head back to meet his gaze. Enough that I could feel the heat coming off his skin again.

His eyes dropped to my mouth — quick, instinctive — and I hated how it made my pulse jump.

Before either of us could say something, even dumber, Professor Lee cleared his throat. “Both of you — a word, please.”

We turned, startled, as if remembering there was a whole room watching.

He led us to his desk, his expression serious.

“You two have been selected to represent our department at the International Academic Congress next weekend.” He paused for effect. “An honor. Only given to our best.”

My brain blanked.

Congress? An entire weekend?

With Seungmin?

I felt my stomach flip in the worst way.

Beside me, Seungmin shoved his hands in his pockets, feigning boredom — but I caught the twitch of his jaw. He hated surprises. Almost as much as I hated liking the idea of being trapped with him somewhere far from rules and reputations.

“You’ll be presenting your articles separately, of course,” Professor Lee continued. “But you’ll be traveling together. Hotel accommodations are arranged.”

I nodded, tight, pretending not to panic.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Seungmin turn his head, studying me carefully. Like he knew exactly what I was thinking. Like he was already plotting how to use this against me.

I gritted my teeth and forced a tight smile. Seungmin smirked, slow and lethal.

This was war.

And I was already losing.

The conference was supposed to be an exciting opportunity. At least, that’s what I told myself when I boarded the plane. A few days away from the usual routine, presenting my research for relevant people, making connections—sounds like a dream, right? In theory. The reality? Well, the idea of spending two days in close proximity to Seungmin was a *little* less appealing. But hey, I was here for the experience. And because I didn’t have much of a choice.

The flight was long, and Seungmin had already made himself an expert at finding ways to annoy me.

He sat one row behind me, but naturally, he ended up next to me when the seatbelt sign was switched off. Classic Seungmin move. “Mind if I join you?” he asked as if I had a say in the matter.

I didn’t even bother to look at him. “Please, make yourself at home.” I said, not bothering to hide the sarcasm in my voice.

Seungmin didn’t waste any time. He slid into the seat beside me like we’d been lifelong friends, his shoulder brushing mine in the process. "You know,” he said, stretching his legs out a little too far into my space, “I actually enjoy these long flights. So much time to read, think, or just bother you.”

I pretended to focus on the screen in front of me, but it was hard to ignore him when he practically moved in. “Lucky me,” I muttered, trying my best to be invisible.

He grinned, clearly unfazed. “You could at least pretend to enjoy my company. I’m doing you a favor, really.”

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “Oh, I’m sure you are.” I said dryly.

Seungmin leaned in closer, like he was about to share a deeply profound thought. “I think you’re just afraid of my charm.”

“I’m not afraid of your charm,” I said flatly. “I’m just trying to survive the flight without having to throw you out of the window.”

“You'd kill all of these people if you opened that window, you know that, right?”

Of course I knew, who whe thought I was?

I could practically hear him smirking, even though I refused to look at him. He was annoyingly good at finding ways to make my blood pressure rise with minimal effort.

By the time we landed, I was exhausted—not from the flight, but from keeping my cool around him. The conference itself? That was going to be cakewalk compared to this.

We finally made it through the airport and to the hotel. The city was exactly what I expected: bigger, louder, and more chaotic than I needed. I then with that all my excitement died and I was so ready to be done with everything.

The lobby was eerily quiet, the kind of place where every sound felt exaggerated. When we approached the reception desk, the receptionist greeted us with a smile so practiced it almost looked fake. I wasn’t in the mood for polite exchanges. The way she glanced at Seungmin—almost too interested—made my skin crawl.

She typed something on her keyboard while keeping her eyes on the screen, then lifted her gaze to us with that same, professional smile. “Good afternoon. How can I help you?”

I stepped up first, handing over my conference credential with a formality I didn’t really feel but was trying to project. It made me look like I had my life together, something that wasn’t going to be ruined by an unexpected trip with my academic rival.

“Hi, we’re from the Department of Social Sciences at National University. We're here for the research congress.”

She glanced at the screen for a moment longer, tapping away before meeting our eyes again. “Ah, of course. Everything’s set for you.” She grabbed a key from behind the desk, placing it on the counter with that same pleasant smile. “Here’s your key. You’ll be in room 325.”

I grabbed the key, but something felt off. The way she handed it to us made me stop, the words almost caught in my throat.

“Just one key?” I asked, raising an eyebrow, hoping the confusion I was feeling didn’t show too obviously. It didn’t make sense that she was giving us a single key for both of us, especially since I knew the rooms were supposed to be separate.

The receptionist looked at me like my question was perfectly normal. “Yes, one key for each couple of participants.”

I blinked, mouth slightly open. A couple? Did she just assume…? I glanced over at Seungmin, who was casually leaning against the counter, an eyebrow raised.

He caught my look and immediately let out a low chuckle. Of course, he found this funny. “What? You didn’t think we were a couple?” He gave me a wink, his voice dripping with that infuriating confidence.

I felt my face flush with a mix of annoyance and… something else. I wasn’t about to let him have the upper hand, but honestly, why was the receptionist so sure of that? Was I really giving off those kinds of vibes?

I couldn’t suppress my irritation.

“We’re not a couple,” I snapped, a little too harshly. “We’re just… two students who happened to be presenting at the same event.”

The receptionist merely nodded, completely unfazed. She didn’t seem to think anything was out of the ordinary about the situation. “Oh, I see. Well, the rooms are all prepared. Would you like me to change the key?”

Before I could open my mouth to say anything, Seungmin was quicker. He grabbed the key off the counter with an air of ease that only made me more frustrated. He was enjoying this, I could tell.

“No, it's okay,” he said smoothly, his eyes flicking to me with that self-satisfied gleam. “We’re fine with it.”

He turned to me, the smugness on his face practically radiating. Of course, this would be his idea of a good time.

I shot him a death glare but said nothing. He was always so quick to take charge of situations that were inconvenient for me. It annoyed the hell out of me.

The receptionist, apparently oblivious to the tension, gave us a polite nod. “Enjoy your stay!”

I didn’t bother replying. Instead, I grabbed my bag and turned away, trying my hardest to ignore Seungmin’s amused expression as I walked to the elevator.

“I can’t believe you’re okay with this,” I muttered under my breath, trying to sound angry, but I knew I wasn’t fooling anyone.

Seungmin followed behind me, taking his time.

The elevator ride up to the third floor was a quiet one, and as we stepped out into the hallway, I could already feel the weight of the situation sinking in. The reality of having to share a room with Seungmin was a lot less fun when you were actually facing it.

Seungmin, still as calm as ever, walked ahead of me toward room 325. His hand was already on the doorknob when I caught up.

I hesitated, then turned to him. “I seriously don’t think this is a good idea.”

Seungmin paused, his back to me, then slowly glanced over his shoulder, his expression unreadable. For a second, there was no hint of a smirk. “What’s the worst that could happen?” he asked quietly.

I wanted to answer— everything —but he was already opening the door.

The door swung open, and I stepped inside, Seungmin trailing right behind me. The room was… fine. Clean, neat — boring in the way all conference hotels were. But then my gaze hit the bed.

One. Single. Bed.

A king-size, sure. But still — one bed. No second mattress tucked in a corner. No pull-out couch. Just that massive betrayal sitting right in the middle of the room like it knew exactly what it was doing.

I froze, dread pooling in my stomach.

Seungmin bumped into me from behind and cursed under his breath. “Wait. Are you fucking serious?” His voice was low, disbelieving.

I didn’t even look at him. I just stared at the bed like it had personally betrayed me.

I turned to him slowly, my face blank with disbelief. “Well, unless you’re planning on summoning another bed out of thin air, yeah, we’re serious.” I waved my hand dramatically toward the offending mattress.

Seungmin stepped around me, eyeing the bed like it had personally insulted his family. “They expect us to sleep in the same bed?” he asked, incredulous.

“Apparently ‘academic excellence’ comes with complimentary sexual tension. Maybe they'll even throw in some rose petals and a bottle of champagne while we're at it too.” I muttered, folding my arms.

He snorted, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I didn’t sign up for this.”

“No shit. You think I did?” I snapped. The sarcasm was practically a second language between us at this point.

The room already felt too small, the air too charged.

He looked at me, his expression sharpening into something defensive. “Don’t flatter yourself, princess. I’d rather cuddle a cactus.”

I gave him a slow, sarcastic smile. “Cute. I was about to say you could sleep outside with the stray dogs. You’d fit right in.”

He threw me a sideways look, half a smirk playing on his lips. “If it’s that unbearable, I can sleep on the floor. Wouldn’t want you losing sleep over me.”

I rolled my eyes so hard I practically saw my brain. “The floor’s probably cleaner than whatever germs you’re carrying anyway.”

The tension crackled between us — electric, unbearable. We both stood there, stubbornly glaring at the bed, as if sheer willpower would make it disappear.

Seungmin shook his head, glancing once more at the cursed bed like it might suddenly sprout another mattress. “This is unbelievable. Who the hell organizes a conference like this?”

“Maybe it's a new academic technique.” I deadpanned. “See who survives forced proximity without committing murder.”

He actually snorted at that, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He shook his head, still clearly pissed off. “This is ridiculous. What’s next, sharing a toothbrush?”

I snapped back, my sarcasm sharp as a knife. “Oh, I’m sure that’s exactly what’s going to happen. They’ll give us matching PJs next, too.”

We stood there for another long, heavy beat, neither of us moving.

Finally, after what felt like hours, Seungmin exhaled sharply and said: “We’re not gonna survive this if we keep acting like kids.”

I rolled my eyes so hard it hurt. “Screw it. We'll put a damn pillow wall in the middle. Switzerland rules: you stay on your side, I stay on mine.”

“Fine. But if you snore, I’m suffocating you with a pillow.”

“If you steal the covers, I’m kicking you onto the floor.” I shot back.

He met my glare with one of his own, but there was something else beneath it now.

Something heavier. Thicker. Neither of us said it, but we both felt it. The heat. The pull.

I slung my bag over my shoulder, already moving toward the door. “Let's just get through the conference first. We'll deal with... this trainwreck later.”

Seungmin didn’t argue this time. He just muttered under his breath, low enough that I almost missed it: “Yeah... easier said than done.”

We step off the elevator and into a wide, polished corridor leading to the conference rooms. The air smells faintly of burnt coffee, new carpet, and desperation. The walls are covered in generic modern art — squares inside of other squares — like they were trying very hard to seem sophisticated without actually having a soul. I already feel the weight of expectation pressing down on me like a headache.

Seungmin walks beside me, hands shoved deep into his pockets, looking unimpressed with life itself. His hair falls messily into his eyes, but he doesn’t bother fixing it. Typical.

His eyes dart around the hallway, scanning faces like he’s already categorizing who’s worth ignoring. “Ready to pretend we care?” he mutters, voice pitched low enough just for me.

“Thrilled,” I deadpan, not even glancing at him. “Can’t wait to have my brain melted by endless talks about sustainable quinoa farming.”

He snorts, biting back a laugh. “Sounds like your dream date.”

“Yup. Right up there with tax seminars and dental surgery.”

We keep walking, moving with the flow of the crowd. I can see the bright lights of the conference rooms ahead, and it's all I can do to not roll my eyes at the sheer formality of it all. The event feels more like a display of ‘look how important we are’ than anything else.

He grins — a real one, small and crooked — before drifting off toward a group near the front, already blending in like a professional social chameleon. I roll my eyes and slink toward the back, sinking into an empty chair, pulling out my phone just to avoid making small talk with strangers who all think they’re smarter than everyone else.

The speaker drones on about something to do with regenerative soil or whatever. I zone out, letting the words wash over me like white noise.

That’s when I notice him — a guy standing near the refreshment table, dressed casually enough to look out of place among all the tight blazers and forced smiles. He’s got a lazy grin, a coffee cup in one hand, and the vibe of someone who definitely isn’t taking this seriously.

Our eyes meet by accident. I immediately look away, pretending to be fascinated by my own shoes.

Too late.

Footsteps approach, and a moment later, he’s there, leaning on the back of the chair next to mine like he owns the place, like he’s got nothing better to do.

“Hey.” he says when he’s standing in front of me, offering a slight, disarming grin. “I don’t know if you’re as bored as I am, but I swear this place feels like a corporate zombie apocalypse.”

I glance up at him. His voice is light, teasing, and there's a mischievous glint in his eye that reminds me — alarmingly — of someone else I know. He's charming, but not in the typical, obnoxious way.

I can’t help a small smirk. “I’m pretty sure zombies would be more interesting. At least they’d be honest about their intentions.”

“You look about as thrilled as I feel,” he says with a grin.

“Is it that obvious?” I say, tilting my head. “I thought I was hiding it so well.”

“Subtle as a brick to the face,” he deadpans, smiling wider.

I snort before I can stop myself. Okay, he's funny. Dangerous.

“Chan,” he says, holding out a hand like we’re not at the most painfully formal event on earth.

“Y/N,” I reply, shaking his hand briefly before pulling back.

Chan smirks. “So, Y/N... what's your poison? Boring keynote speeches or awkward networking attempts?”

I fake think about it. “Mmm... death by boredom sounds slightly less painful.”

He chuckles. “Agreed. I’m just here for the free coffee and questionable snack trays.”

“You’re brave. I think those pastries have been alive longer than some of the speakers.”

He laughs — a real, full laugh — and leans closer like we’re already conspirators. “Survival of the fittest. Or the most caffeinated.”

I smirk, feeling a little lighter despite myself.

“Guess I’ll see you at the coffee table battlefield later, then.”

“Only if you’re prepared to fight dirty.” He winks. “I swear, if they put any more bland hors d'oeuvres out there, I might start questioning why I even left my house for this.”

I can’t help it—I actually laugh at that. “Yeah, I’d rather be at home, in my pajamas, eating cereal. At least I know it’s not going to taste like cardboard.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Oh, so you're one of those people. Respect.”

There's a beat of silence, and for a moment, we just stand there, awkward in the best way. But I don’t mind it. It's kind of refreshing to talk to someone who isn’t immediately making small talk about "networking."

Nick shrugs, his eyes glinting with a bit of humor. “So, what’s your take on all of this? The conference, I mean. I’m assuming you’re not here for the food production knowledge either.”

I think about it for a moment before responding. “Honestly? It’s not exactly what I expected. I thought it’d be more... engaging, that I'd have a great opportunity to talk about my research, but it’s mostly just people trying to sound important.”

Nick nods knowingly, looking amused. “Yeah, that’s pretty much the vibe I’m getting too.”

I’m about to fire back something sarcastic when the temperature of the room shifts. I feel it before I see him — that tightening sensation in the air.

I turn slightly, and there he is.

Seungmin.

Standing a few feet away, arms crossed tight over his chest, shoulders rigid. His mouth is pressed into a thin line, but it’s his eyes — sharp, dark — that give him away.

He's staring at Chan like he’s a mosquito buzzing too close.

Chan notices too, casting a casual glance over his shoulder. “Didn’t realize you had company,” Chan says easily, raising an eyebrow at Seungmin.

Seungmin’s smile is a weapon — all teeth, no warmth. “Yeah. She’s with me.”

She’s with me.

My eyebrows shoot up, but I say nothing.

Seungmin’s jaw clenches, and he steps forward, his gaze still fixed on me, but the edge to his voice has softened slightly as he addresses me. “Y/N, we should go.”

Chan shrugs like he couldn’t care less. “Right. I’ll catch you later, Y/N.”

“Yeah,” I mutter, feeling the weight of Seungmin’s presence beside me. “Later.”

He flashes me one last grin before wandering off, utterly unbothered.

The second he’s gone, Seungmin steps closer, his body language screaming tension. His glare burns into me, his jaw flexing as if he’s chewing on all the words he can’t say out loud.

The air between us is thick, but I can’t help it. I need to poke at him, need to let him know that I see right through his little act.

I cross my arms, matching his posture. “You gonna tell me why you look like you’re about to start a bar fight?” I ask sweetly.

He huffs through his nose, looking anywhere but at me.

We head back toward the front, the noise of the conference around us feeling a hundred times louder. The tension doesn’t seem to let up, and I know this is just the beginning of whatever this is between us, the silence between us thick enough to choke on.

I can’t help myself.

“You know,” I say, tilting my head toward him. “you’re acting like I committed a crime by talking to someone with a better haircut than you.” I lied, Chans's haircut isn't better than his long bangs that falls onto his eyes.

Seungmin’s jaw tightens, his eyes flickering toward me, but he says nothing. His lips are pressed together in a thin line, and the way his fingers flex against his crossed arms doesn’t escape me. He’s annoyed.

I grin to myself, enjoying this just a little too much. “I mean, it’s not like I invited him to a romantic dinner or anything,” I continue, my tone teasing. “But I did notice your death stare. If looks could kill, I think I’d be six feet under right now.”

Seungmin's head snaps toward me, eyes narrowed. “You’re imagining things.”

“Am I?” I tease. “Because from where I’m standing, it looked a lot like jealousy. Like… borderline ‘punch a guy over a coffee joke’ levels of jealousy.”

He stops walking abruptly, forcing me to stop too. He steps closer — too close — and lowers his voice so only I can hear.

“I’m not jealous.”

I tilt my head, giving him a sidelong glance. “Really? Because it kind of seemed like you were about to challenge him to a duel or something.”

Seungmin glances at me, his expression unreadable, but I can tell he’s getting more irritated by the second. He stops walking again, and his eyes narrow in that way he does when he’s not sure whether to get sarcastic or serious. “I don’t care, okay?” he finally says, voice sharp. “But you could’ve at least told me you were—whatever—you know, talking to him.”

I can’t help but laugh at that. “Oh, so I’m supposed to run my social interactions past you now? Got it, boss.”

Seungmin’s lips twitch, but he doesn’t smile. “It’s not about that.”

“Then what is it about, exactly?” I prod, stepping closer to him. “You sure you’re not feeling a little... territorial?”

“Territorial?” He glares at me, clearly trying to keep his cool. “What, like some caveman marking his territory?”

I raise an eyebrow, smirking. “More like a chihuahua, actually.”

Seungmin glares, his ears pinking. “You’re impossible.”

“You’re adorable when you’re angry,” I shoot back, my grin widening.

He lets out a short, frustrated laugh, running a hand through his hair. “Keep pushing, princess. See what happens.”

I arch an eyebrow, leaning closer, letting my shoulder brush his for just a second longer than necessary. “Maybe I’m counting on it.”

For a heartbeat, we just stare at each other — the conference noise fading into the background — locked in this stupid, electric standoff.

Then he huffs, muttering under his breath as he turns to walk ahead of me: “You’re gonna drive me insane.”

I smile, slow and wicked, before following him back into the crowd.

The second the door to the hotel room clicked shut behind us, the weight of reality hit again — one bed.

Still just one.

I sighed loudly, dropping my bag near the dresser.

Seungmin tossed his hoodie onto a chair and stretched his arms above his head, way too nonchalant for someone about to sleep three inches away from their mortal enemy.

“Guess we’re really doing this,” I muttered, staring at the bed like it was a battlefield.

“What’s wrong, princess? Afraid you won’t survive one night without jumping me?” he teased, kicking off his shoes.

I rolled my eyes so hard it hurt.

“Please. I’m more worried about you crying because I stole all the covers.”

He laughed, short and sharp. “In your dreams.”

We stood there for a second, facing the bed like it killed someone of our family.

“Truce?” I offered reluctantly, lifting a pillow.

“Temporary ceasefire.” He smirked. “Until you start snoring and ruin my life.”

I flipped him off without ceremony and started building a pathetic little wall of pillows down the middle of the mattress.

He watched, arms crossed, amusement flickering in his dark eyes. “Very professional. I feel safer already.”

“Good. Now if you so much as breathe on my side, I’m kicking you out.”

“Looking forward to it.”

I grabbed my pajamas and locked myself in the bathroom before I could throw something at his smug face. Changing into my satin slip felt almost ridiculous. It wasn’t even that revealing — thin straps, low neckline, cut just short enough to be a problem if you looked too long — but somehow, the second I caught my reflection, I hesitated.

Why the hell did it feel like I was getting ready for something? I shook off the thought and stepped out.

Seungmin was sprawled across his side of the bed, now wearing only a pair of gray sweatpants, no shirt. His skin caught the soft hotel lighting, warm and distracting. He was tapping away at his phone, pretending not to notice me.

He looked up when he heard the door click.

And froze.

Just for a second.

Eyes raking over me in one quick, betraying sweep before he schooled his face back into something vaguely unimpressed. “Nice pajamas,” he said casually. “Planning to seduce the minibar?”

I narrowed my eyes. “Planning to murder you in your sleep, actually.”

He grinned — wide, wolfish. “Kinky.”

I gave him my middle finger again and climbed into my side of the bed, tugging the covers up to my chest like armor.

Seungmin tossed his phone onto the nightstand and settled against the pillows, arms behind his head. The faint glow of the bedside lamp carved shadows down his chest, and I hated — *hated* — that my eyes kept betraying me, sliding over the lines of his collarbone, the dip of his stomach.

I turned off the light with an aggressive click. The darkness didn’t help.

We lay there, stiff, silent, breathing the same charged air. The pillow barrier might as well have been made of tissue paper.

Minutes stretched. The kind of minutes where you feel everything — the brush of fabric, the shift of weight, the tiny creaks of the bed under him.

I couldn’t sleep.

Neither could he.

I could hear his breathing, shallow and uneven. The bed felt too big and too small all at once.

The shitty pillow wall between us was a joke now — some flimsy excuse to pretend there was still a line we hadn’t crossed.

Neither of us spoke for a long moment. The air was thick. Every shallow breath I took, I swore I could taste him on my tongue. The silence wasn’t peaceful. It was tense. Ticking. Waiting.

I couldn’t see him clearly in the dark, but I could feel him — every shift of weight on the mattress, every small movement that jolted straight through my body like static.

Finally, Seungmin’s voice broke the stillness — low, rough around the edges: “You keep fidgeting.”

I scoffed quietly, turning onto my side to face the vague outline of his body. “Maybe because I’m stuck sharing a bed with my worst enemy.”

“You flatter yourself,” he muttered, and even in the dark, I could imagine that insufferable smirk of his. “You’re the one who built a wall of pillows like I’m going to jump on you or something.”

He shifted closer, just enough that the mattress dipped between us, erasing another inch of space.

“Well, I've heard of your uncontrollable violent behavior, Kim Seungmin.” I lied, I heard nothing, but anything, now I might just witness it.

He laughed under his breath, sharp and derisive. “You're so full of yourself, it’s a miracle your head fits in this room.”

He didn’t say anything else immediately. Instead, he let the silence stretch — heavy, charged — until I was practically vibrating from it.

Then, almost too casually: “Bet you think about it though.”

I blinked, my heart stuttering. “Think about what?” I asked, my voice coming out sharper than I meant.

“This,” he said simply. “Us. Fighting, fucking... whatever.”

I opened my mouth to snap back — some scathing insult on the tip of my tongue — but nothing came out.

Because the worst part? He wasn’t wrong.

The silence between us roared.

Seungmin shifted again, close enough now that the heat of his body seeped through the covers. “What’s the matter, princess?” he teased, voice dangerously low. “Cat got your tongue?”

I hated him. I hated how my skin burned under his words. I hated how badly I wanted to wipe that smug tone off his mouth — preferably with my own.

I swallowed thickly. “You’re delusional.” I said, but it lacked bite.

He laughed quietly, a deep, rumbling sound that curled low in my stomach. “Am I?” he challenged, voice pure sin.

Then, the tension snapped.

I pushed the stupid pillow barrier away with one aggressive swipe, grabbed a fistful of his face and yanked him toward me.

Our mouths crashed together like a fucking car wreck — brutal, messy, unstoppable. We kissed like we were trying to prove something. Or maybe like we were trying to forget something.

He groaned into the kiss, grabbing my waist like he’d been waiting for permission he was never going to ask for.

I gasped when he rolled over me, pinning me down into the mattress, his hips pressing between my thighs with a hunger that sent a shudder straight through me.

His mouth was everywhere — jaw, neck, collarbone — as if kissing me could somehow make up for all the weeks of tension we’d spent pretending we didn’t want this. His hands gripped my thighs, my waist, like he couldn’t decide where he needed me most.

His hips pressed down, slow and firm, and I felt the friction hit just right — enough to make me gasp into his mouth. He did it again. Purposefully this time. Pressing against me like he wanted me to feel just how hard he was. Like he needed me to know what I was doing to him.

Then he started grinding.

Desperately.

There was nothing careful about it. It was all friction and hunger, his sweatpants dragging against my panties, the pressure building every time our hips met. He was breathing heavily now, panting into my neck, his hands gripping my waist like he was trying to keep himself from losing it completely.

I arched against him instinctively, my hands sliding up his back, under his shirt, nails digging in just a little when our hips met again. The fabric between us was too much and not enough at the same time — the pressure maddening, delicious, torturous. Heat pooled low in my stomach, and I hated how easily he made me feel like I was unraveling — so I did what I always did when I felt too much.

I smirked. “Wow.” I whispered, my voice low and venomous as my lips brushed his ear. “I couldn’t imagine grinding was your way of begging.”

He groaned — like the sound had been ripped out of him — and ground harder, sharper, until I could feel all of him pressing against me.

Hard. So fucking hard.

And that’s when I laughed — breathless and wicked — dragging my nails down his back just enough to make him hiss. His breath was shaky against my collarbone, his lips dragging a trail of heat along my skin. He was already panting, his hips grinding into mine like he couldn’t stop himself, like he needed the friction just to stay sane. I felt him — hard, throbbing against my center — and it only made the smirk on my lips grow sharper.

“You’re really down bad, huh?” I murmured against his ear, dragging my nails slowly up his back. “You barely touched me and you're already losing it.”

He groaned, a sound that came from deep in his chest, and buried his face in the crook of my neck. “You’re not helping.” he muttered, grinding against me again, slower now, desperate.

“Then beg better.” I whispered, my voice deliberately calm, teasing. “Maybe I’ll take pity on you.”

He pulled back just far enough to look at me, eyes wild, jaw tight, completely wrecked.

“You think this is funny?” he asked, his voice a growl now. “You think I can fucking control myself when you're like this?”

“No.” I whispered, rolling my hips up slowly, deliberately. “That’s the fun part.”

Something snapped in him after that. He thrust against me again, this time rougher, more desperate, and I swallowed a moan as his mouth found mine once more. I felt him everywhere — in the way his body moved, in the way his hands clutched at me like I was something he couldn’t hold onto fast enough, in the way our hips met again and again, friction making it hard to think, hard to breathe, hard to do anything but feel.

My fingers slipped into his hair, yanking just enough to make him hiss, and I couldn’t help the smug little grin that curled at my lips. He pulled back just enough to look at me, flushed and breathless, pupils blown wide.

“You're dangerous.” he whispered, his voice low and reverent.

“You love it.” I shot back.

He crushed his mouth back onto mine, swallowing my gasp, and his hand slipped down between us to pull at my panties like he couldn’t stand one more second without being inside me. The kiss deepened, teeth clashing, tongues tangling, hands roaming recklessly.

Seungmin kissed like he fought — relentless, stubborn, like he had something to prove.

And fuck, I loved it.

His hands slid under my nightgown, fingertips dragging up my sides, rough and needy. I arched into him, desperate for more contact, for anything to ground me against the chaos exploding under my skin.

He pulled back just enough to mutter, breathless: “Still think I'm delusional?”

“Shut up.” I gasped, dragging him back down to me.

He grinned against my mouth — cocky, victorious — and then kissed me even harder.

“This is purely academic.” I said, smirking into the dark. “Data collection. Stress relief. Killing time.”

“What, like a science experiment?”

“Exactly.”

“Uh-hum, of course.” he agreed mock-seriously.

Clothes became obstacles. His hands found the hem of my slip, pushing it up, bunching the silky fabric at my waist.

He kissed down my neck, slower this time, like he was trying to savor every inch of skin. My shame was long gone, and so were the layers of sarcasm I wore like armor. His mouth trailed lower, over my chest, down my stomach — and when he reached the waistband of my panties, he paused. Looked up. Eyes dark. Lips swollen. Breath unsteady. Like he was about to kneel at an altar. And I was the altar.

“Don’t look at me like that.” I muttered, trying to hold onto some control.

“Like what?” he said, voice low, his fingers already sliding down my panties.

“Like I’m the answer to a question you didn’t know you were asking.”

He smirked — not his usual cocky kind, but softer, full of want.

He kissed down my stomach slowly, like he wanted to memorize every inch of skin. There was something almost reverent in the way he did it — not rushed, not greedy — just hungry, in a quiet, desperate kind of way.

When his fingers hooked under my panties and slid them down, he didn’t say a word. But his eyes — God, his eyes were wrecked. Like he’d been waiting for this since the day we met and couldn't believe it was finally happening.

I let my head fall back against the pillows, biting my lip, trying to stay composed. But the second I felt his breath on my inner thigh, I knew I was in trouble.

And then his mouth found me.

The first lick was slow. Soft. Testing.

He groaned like he was the one being touched, and the vibration made me shiver.

I grabbed a fistful of his hair on instinct, trying to ground myself. He didn’t stop.

His tongue moved in careful, messy circles, as if he was learning me — like every stroke was a question and every moan was an answer. He sucked gently, then harder, switching rhythms like he wanted to see what would make me break first.

I hated how good it felt. Hated how easy it was to melt under his mouth.

So I did the only thing I could do — I mocked him. “You’re really putting your whole heart into this, huh?” I breathed, voice shaky but laced with sarcasm.

He pulled back just enough to look up at me, lips already wet, face flushed. “I’ve been dreaming about this since the first time you yelled at me in chem lab.” he said, voice rough. “So yeah. I’m not fucking around.”

Then he went back in, hungrier than before. His hands slid under my thighs, pushing them further apart. He moaned into me like I was something he couldn’t get enough of — and maybe he couldn’t.

I gasped without thinking, barely able to form the words. He looked up at me with a crooked grin and shook his head before diving back in. And I couldn’t stop myself anymore. My hips rocked against his face. My hands tangled in his hair. My breath stuttered and caught.

My body arched. My breath stuttered. My control cracked. “Fuck—” I gasped, rolling my hips into his face. “You’re gonna make me—”

He sucked harder. His tongue flicked just right. And I did. I came with a whimper I tried to swallow, thighs trembling around his head.

Still, he didn’t move — didn’t stop — not until I was squirming away from the overstimulation,

‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

dragging him up by the hair and breathing like I’d run a marathon.

He looked wrecked. And so fucking proud of himself. “You should’ve insulted me earlier.” he whispered, kissing the inside of my knee. “I think I’m kinda into it.”

“Shut up.” I said, pulling him into a kiss.

I pulled him up by the hair, still panting, and crashed my mouth into his. Tasting myself on his lips only made it worse.

My hands roamed his bare back — warm, solid, lean muscles flexing under my touch — and I scratched lightly down his spine, earning a low, broken noise from deep in his throat.

He retaliated by sucking a bruise into the hollow of my throat, making me gasp and tangle my fingers in his hair, yanking just hard enough to hear him groan again.

Somehow, he managed to shove his sweatpants down just enough, the condom appearing – from God knows where – clumsily between kisses, torn open with shaky fingers. Even stoned on adrenaline and lust, we managed — barely.

When he finally slid inside me, it wasn’t gentle. It was desperate. Raw.

We both gasped — harsh, ragged — the sudden connection knocking the breath out of our lungs. Seungmin pressed his forehead to mine, breathing hard.

“Fuck.” he whispered. “You're gonna be the death of me.”

I laughed — sharp and breathless — grabbing his hips and rolling mine up to meet him, forcing a groan from his mouth.

He moved inside me — slow at first, testing, then harder, deeper, each thrust sending little shocks of pleasure ripping through me. I clutched at him, nails digging into his shoulders, my body meeting his rhythm without hesitation.

The world blurred around the edges — just his breath against my neck, the creak of the mattress, the wet, filthy sound of skin on skin.

The tension in my stomach coiled tighter with every rough drag of his hips, every filthy word he muttered against my skin when he thought I couldn’t hear.

“So fucking tight.”

“So good like this.”

“Mine tonight.”

I whimpered, burying my face against his shoulder, biting down just enough to make him hiss and drive into me harder. The buildup was brutal — slow and fast at the same time — until I was clinging to him, gasping his name like a curse.

He felt it too, I could tell — the way his thrusts became uneven, ragged, the way he cursed under his breath when my nails raked down his back.

I shoved him away, straddling him. “Lie down.” I climbed on top of him, straddling his hips, letting my thighs press against his bare skin.

He looked wrecked — eyes glazed, mouth parted, like he couldn’t believe this was real. He obeyed instantly. Hair a mess, chest heaving, lips red. Completely at my mercy. He lifted his head, eyes wild, completely wrecked — pupils blown, lips parted. He looked at me like he didn’t know whether to kiss me or cry.

“Please.” he said, barely a breath. “I need you." He whimpered. “You're so fucking beautiful.” he whispered, almost like he hated himself for saying it. “Like a dream I shouldn’t be allowed to have.” His fingers brushing my hair.

The words made something flutter in my chest, but I ignored it. Instead, I pushed him down by the shoulders, forcing him to lie back on the mattress. He obeyed instantly.

“That's right, pretty boy.” I said, straddling his hips slowly, my fingers dragging over his chest.

His breath hitched at the praise.

I leaned down, lips brushing over his ear. — “You’re gonna keep your hands to yourself.” I said softly. “Just for a while. Got it?”

He nodded quickly. Too quickly. His restraint was paper thin.

I rolled my hips down against his again, this time without any barrier. His sweatpants were already low on his hips, and I could feel how badly he wanted it — the way his whole body arched up, chasing friction, chasing me.

“Fuck, Y/N…” he gasped, trying so hard not to move.

I shifted down slowly, kissing along his stomach, watching the muscles tense under my lips. When I reached the waistband of his boxers, I heard him whisper my name again — like a prayer. Desperate. Soft. Shaky.

But instead of going lower, I came back up, hovering over him again. His hands clenched at his sides. He was trembling. He looked like he was losing his mind.

And I loved it.

“You want me to fuck you?” I asked, voice still soft, like I was offering something sacred. He nodded again, eyes locked on mine. “No, Seungmin.” I said, smile sharp. “I want to hear it.”

He swallowed hard. “I want you.” he said. “Please. I want you so fucking bad.”

Only then did I slide down onto him — slow, torturously slow. We both gasped. His hands flew to my hips on instinct, gripping tight, but he didn’t move — like he remembered my words. His head fell back. A sound tore from his throat — low, desperate, guttural. — “Fucking hell…”

I started moving, hips rolling in deep, slow circles. He looked wrecked — eyes fluttering, head tilted back, mouth open.— “Shit.” he choked out. “You’re gonna kill me.”

I leaned down, brushing my lips over his. “You’re lucky I like you needy.”

He grabbed my wrist, eyes locking with mine again — glassy, overwhelmed. “You’re in fact a dream.” he whispered. “You’re a fucking dream, I don’t wanna wake up.”

He was completely under me — wide-eyed, overwhelmed, needy. I rode him slow and deep. He reached up, fingers trembling as they gripped my thighs. “Fuck… you’re unreal.”

I leaned forward, dragging my lips down his jaw. And I kept going. Until he couldn’t speak. Until he was all moans and gasps and praise whispered into my skin. Until the only thing either of us knew was this — us — messy, out of control, too much and never enough.

And this time, I didn’t tease. I kissed him — slow and deep — as I kept moving, feeling him tremble beneath me, completely undone

It hit me like a wave — hot, violent, overwhelming.

I came with a cry I couldn't bite back, my body clenching around him so hard it ripped a guttural moan from his mouth. A few more frantic, desperate grinds and he followed, coming with a rough, broken sound against my ear.

We collapsed together, sweaty, shaking, our bodies tangled messily in the sheets and in each other.

For a long moment, we just lay there — breathing hard, the air heavy with sex and everything we weren't saying.

He didn't move away.

Neither did I.

I woke up tangled in the sheets, the faint light from the window cutting through the darkness of the room.

The room was cold, but the heat of his body next to mine made it almost unbearable.

I shifted under the covers, blinking against the soft morning light bleeding through the curtains.

Seungmin was lying on his side, facing me. His hair a mess, his mouth slightly open, his arm carelessly thrown over the invisible line that we had so dramatically ignored the night before. He looked criminally good for someone who had completely ruined my ability to think straight.

For a second, I just stared at him. At the peaceful rise and fall of his chest. At the faint scratch marks I’d left on his skin.

It should’ve made me feel guilty.

It didn’t. It made my stomach flip in a way I refused to name.

I shifted under the covers, careful not to wake him. Not because I cared. Because I didn’t feel like dealing with the smugness that would explode across his stupidly handsome face when he realized he had officially broken my sanity.

But of course, the bed creaked, and his eyelids fluttered open. He blinked slowly at me, his mouth curling into a lazy, dangerous smirk. “Good morning, sunshine.”

I rolled my eyes hard enough to sprain something. “You drooled on my pillow.”

“You moaned on my neck.” He said it so casually I almost threw the remaining pillow at his face.

I rolled over with an exaggerated huff, pulling the blanket up to my neck.

The bed shifted a second later, and a raspy voice muttered: “You're staring. Creepy.”

I snorted without turning. “Dreaming. About how much I regret this.”

“Sure.” He stretched, the covers sliding lower on his body, revealing way too much bare skin for a casual glance.

I refused to give him the satisfaction. Instead, I tossed a pillow at his head.

It hit him square in the face. He grunted. “Assault. That's how you say good morning?”

“You should thank me. I could’ve done worse.”

He laughed, low and rough. God, that laugh should be illegal before 9 a.m.

“You already did worse last night.” he teased, flashing that stupid grin that made my chest tight for no good reason.

“Delusional much?” I snapped, pushing the blankets away and standing up, my satin slip sticking to my thighs.

His eyes dropped — quickly, involuntarily — and when he realized, he immediately smirked wider.

“If I'm delusional, at least it's a nice view.”

I threw another pillow at his face and stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door harder than necessary.

Behind me, his laugh chased me like smoke under the door.

The last day of the conference loomed over me like a thundercloud. People buzzed around the lobby and corridors, all polished shoes and stiff blazers, pretending not to be nervous while clutching folders a little too tightly.

I sat at the back of the auditorium, my hands cold and clammy around my notes. My stomach twisted itself into knots. My brain, usually so quick and sharp, felt sluggish and heavy.

What if I mess up?

What if they laugh at me?

What if I open my mouth and nothing comes out?

A quiet nudge at my side snapped me out of my spiral. I turned sharply — already defensive — only to find Seungmin sliding into the seat next to mine, a crooked grin on his face. “You look like you're about to pass out” he said under his breath, eyes glinting with amusement.

I scowled. “Thanks for the support, Seungmin.”

He smirked, unbothered. His arm brushed mine as he leaned back casually, like he didn’t have a care in the world. Meanwhile, I was over here two seconds away from vomiting.

He studied my face for a moment, his smile fading slightly. “You’re gonna kill it.” he said, voice lower, more serious.

I blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity. “Wow. High praise coming from my archnemesis.” I said, raising an eyebrow.

Seungmin snorted. “Don’t get used to it.” He tapped my folder with the back of his hand. “But seriously. You’re smarter than half the people in this room. Probably smarter than me, too. Not that I'd ever admit it out loud.”

My chest tightened strangely at that. I tried to cover it with sarcasm. “Aw, how cute. If I didn't know better, I'd think you actually cared.”

He rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth twitched like he was fighting a smile. “Don't flatter yourself. I just don't want to be associated with someone who faints mid-presentation.”

I let out a shaky laugh despite myself, some of the weight on my chest easing. I glanced at him sideways, heart hammering for a different reason now. “You think I can really do it?” I asked, my voice smaller than I intended.

Seungmin’s gaze softened. He didn’t tease this time. He didn’t smirk.

He just nodded once, firm and certain. “I know you can.”

Something in me cracked a little at that. Before I could embarrass myself further by actually tearing up or something equally pathetic, the coordinator called my name.

I stood up too fast, my knees almost buckling. Seungmin reached out instinctively, grabbing my wrist lightly to steady me. His touch was brief, casual — but it set my skin on fire.

“Go show them why you scare the shit out of me.” he murmured, just loud enough for me to hear.

I managed a breathless laugh, clutching my notes like a shield as I walked toward the stage.

His gaze followed me the whole way. I could feel it — hot and unwavering, like a tether pulling at me even across the room.

And somehow, because of him, my hands steadied. My voice, when I finally spoke, didn’t shake.

When I finished my presentation and stepped off the stage, heart still hammering, my eyes found his immediately.

Seungmin sat casually slouched in his seat, arms crossed, looking every bit the cocky bastard he always was. But when he caught my gaze, he gave me the smallest nod. Barely there. But it hit harder than a standing ovation.

I looked away quickly, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling too wide. I shouldn’t have cared. But fuck — I did. More than I wanted to admit.

By the end of the last presentation, I was vibrating with tension from the happenings of today and yesterday. I couldn't help myself but let my eyes wander to him every second.

Then suddenly, Chan — the guy from the day before — found me again, appearing with a crooked smile and two cups of coffee. “We really survived it, huh?” he said, handing me a cup. "Yeah..." I took it automatically, forcing a smile.

But my eyes weren’t on him. They were locked across the crowd, watching Seungmin sling his backpack over one shoulder, heading toward the exit without even glancing back.

Something inside me twisted violently.

I barely heard Chan say something else. I just shoved the coffee back at him with a muttered excuse and slipped into the crowd, my body moving on instinct.

I followed Seungmin. Out of the conference center. Down the hall. Toward the elevators.

He didn’t turn when he heard my footsteps. He just stepped inside the elevator. Waited.

When I caught up, panting slightly, I saw the look in his eyes. Tense. Dark. Dangerous.

He hit the button for our floor, and the doors slid closed with a soft ding. The elevator was filled with nothing but heavy breathing and electricity.

Neither of us spoke. Neither of us had to. As soon as the room door closed, I acted on pure instinct. I shoved him. Hard.

Seungmin stumbled back against the wall, his eyes widening in shock — and something hotter — before narrowing with a slow, dangerous smile.

I didn't wait. I closed the distance, grabbed the front of his hoodie, and yanked him into a kiss.

This wasn’t soft. It was furious, messy, teeth and tongue clashing as I pressed him back harder against the wall, claiming him. He grabbed my hips, hauling me closer, but I was faster — shoving him backward until he hit the bed.

I pushed him down, climbing on top of him with a wicked grin.

He stared up at me, breathless, pupils blown wide.

“You like being bossed around, huh?” I teased, grinding down on him mercilessly.

“Only when it’s you.” he rasped, his hands gripping my thighs like he was seconds from losing it completely.

Fury and need and regret crashing together in a way that didn’t make sense but at the same time felt like the only thing that did.

Campus looked the same. Gray, busy, loud.

But everything felt different.

We didn’t talk about what happened. We didn’t even look at each other.

Pretend. Pretend. Pretend. Pretend we weren’t carrying around the memory of each other’s bodies burned into our skin

In class, he sat two rows behind me. I could feel his eyes burning holes into my back, searing a path down my spine. Every. Single. Second. By the end of the lecture, I was practically shaking with frustration.

I grabbed my notebook, marched out into the hallway — and waited.

When he passed, I grabbed his wrist and dragged him into the nearest empty classroom, slamming the door shut.

For a second, we just stood there, staring at each other, the tension so thick it felt like drowning.

“Problem, princess?” he asked, mock-innocent.

I shoved him lightly. “Yeah. You're breathing again. What the hell is your problem?” I hissed, arms crossed.

Seungmin leaned against the wall, lazy, unbothered, like this was amusing. “Problem? I don't have a problem.”

I stepped closer, glaring. “You stare at me like you want to burn me alive and then act like nothing happened.”

He shrugged. “Maybe I do want to burn you alive.”

I shoved him hard. He didn’t even flinch.

Just smiled — slow, infuriating — and let his eyes drag down to my mouth.

My chest heaved with fury. “Stop looking at me like that!” I snapped.

“Like what?” he said innocently, gaze dropping to my lips again.

I groaned and rolled my eyes before grabbing the front of his hoodie and kissed him.

Hard.

He responded immediately, hands sliding to my hips, slamming me back against the door.

The kiss was brutal, messy, full of months — maybe years — of frustration detonating all at once. Starved. Wild.

We stumbled back against the teacher’s desk, knocking over papers and god-knows-what, neither of us caring.

When we finally broke apart, panting, he whispered against my mouth: “You’re fucking annoying.”

“Takes one to know one.” I whispered back, yanking him down for another kiss.

And somehow...

It became a habit.

It wasn’t supposed to become a habit. It wasn’t supposed to mean anything.

But suddenly, he was everywhere. In my bed. On his bed. In the backseat of his shitty old car, the windows fogged, the gearshift digging into my thigh as he moved inside me, rough and desperate. In the abandoned book storage, under a dusty skylight, where he bent me over an old desk and muffled my moans with his mouth. And now, in the farthest corner of the library.

He had me pinned against a bookshelf, one hand gripping my hip, the other tangled in my hair as he fucked me from behind. The worn wooden shelf rattled with every thrust, the sound obscene in the silent library.

My skirt was bunched up around my waist, panties forgotten somewhere on the floor. His jeans pooled around his ankles.

I couldn’t hold back a shaky moan when he lifted my leg higher, the new angle making me see stars.

His mouth was pressed to my shoulder, muffling his moans against my skin, teeth grazing whenever I clenched around him. He grabbed my wrist, guiding it to his mouth, biting the heel of my palm, making me gasp, as he fucked me harder.

Seungmin growled low in his throat, and I smirked wickedly, whispering breathless: “Can't handle it, can you, baby?”

He growled low in response, fucking into me harder, faster, more desperate, making it clear who was really in control.

And it wasn’t him.

The orgasm hit so fast it almost knocked the breath out of me, my forehead pressed against the dusty shelf to stay standing.

He followed a second later, groaning my name like a curse, collapsing against my back for a few shuddering breaths before pulling out, carefully, his hands trembling slightly as he tucked himself back into his jeans.

We straightened ourselves quickly — or as quickly as two wrecked, sweaty people could in the middle of a goddamn library.

He grabbed his backpack, slinging it over one shoulder like nothing had happened. I smoothed my skirt down, pretending my legs weren’t shaking.

As we walked out of the library, Seungmin shoved his hands into his pockets and said, almost casually: “I... bought that soju you said you liked once.” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “Was thinking... maybe you could come over. Study. Drink a little. Then…” He shrugged, pretending nonchalance. “You know.”

I blinked at him, caught off-guard.

“Wait. That soju? How the hell did you even find it?”

He scowled, defensive. “I just found it, alright?” he muttered, like he hadn’t spent two hours scouring online stores for it.

I raised an eyebrow. “You scoured the internet for it, didn’t you?”

He rolled his eyes, ears pink. “Whatever. Just... if you want to come over later. Study. Drink. Maybe…” He shrugged.

I grinned wickedly. “I'd love to drink myself into a coma with you.”

He grumbled something under his breath but didn’t hide the way the corner of his mouth tilted up.

And maybe...

Maybe I was already too far gone to care

When I stepped into Seungmin’s apartment, a gust of cold air followed me inside, swirling around my ankles and raising goosebumps along my arms. The windows rattled faintly, and somewhere in the distance, I could hear the low rumble of thunder, soft but persistent, like a warning. The faint smell of clean laundry and takeout lingering in the air.

It was neat, tidy — almost aggressively so, like he had scrubbed it just to have something to do with his hands.

Seungmin closed the door behind me a little too quickly, shutting out the cold — but not the tension that immediately filled the room.

He didn’t even bother with his usual sarcasm. He just moved toward the kitchen, hands stuffed in his pockets, shoulders stiff. In that brief moment, I could tell something was off.

I kicked off my shoes and shook the chill off my skin, frowning slightly as I watched him.

Something was wrong. Something more than the storm brewing outside.

“Hey.” I said, having him help me take off my coat and eyeing him suspiciously.

He gave a grunt of acknowledgment and motioned toward the living room, where the bottle of soju sat already open on the coffee table.

We moved to the couch, cracking open our notebooks, pretending we were actually there to study. At first, we did — sort of.

I read over a few pages. He pretended to make notes. We sipped soju in between, the alcohol smoothing the edges of the tension, but not erasing it.

It only grew heavier, thicker. He barely looked at me. His jaw clenched every time I shifted closer.

After nearly half an hour of fake studying and awkward silences, I slammed my pen down dramatically.

“Okay.” I said, turning fully to face him. “Spill it. What the hell is going on with you?”

He didn't answer immediately. Just scribbled something meaningless in his notebook, avoiding my eyes like they were lethal weapons.

“Nothing” he muttered.

I snorted. “Bullshit. Come on, Min. You’re a lot of things, but a good liar isn’t one of them.”

I reached across, closed his notebook slowly, deliberately, and stared him down.

“You’re acting like someone kicked your puppy. You’re moody. You’re stiff. And not even in the good way.”

His lips twitched slightly at that, but he still didn’t meet my gaze. “I said it's nothing.” he repeated stubbornly, but his tone cracked halfway through.

It was almost adorable.

Almost.

I leaned in closer, so close that our knees bumped. “You’re not getting away with it.” I said in a mock-sweet voice. “Not tonight.”

I let my hand trail up his thigh slowly, watching the way his breath hitched. He didn’t stop me. Didn’t move.

“If you're not going to talk…” I murmured, holding his gaze, sliding off the couch and kneeling between his legs, “then I'll just have to loosen you up another way.”

His eyes widened slightly, but he still didn’t say a word — stubborn even now.

I tugged the drawstring of his sweatpants loose, my fingers moving with slow, calculated intent. He was already half-hard — a clear sign that no matter how much he was pretending to be unaffected, his body wasn’t lying.

I freed him with a slow, deliberate motion, my hand wrapping around him. He groaned, low and desperate, his head falling back against the couch.

I leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the sensitive tip, tasting the faint saltiness of his skin. He shuddered, his hand immediately sliding into my hair, not pushing, just... anchoring.

When I took him into my mouth, slow and deep, his head fell back against the couch with a broken groan.

“Fuck, Y/N…” he gasped, voice already wrecked.

I set a slow, torturous rhythm, hollowing my cheeks, dragging my tongue along every inch of him, savoring every helpless sound he made. His thighs trembled under my palms, and the way his hand tightened in my hair made me smirk against his skin.

His free hand came up, brushing the hair gently away from my face so he could see me — see everything. And then, in the middle of a particularly deep stroke, he whispered it — raw, desperate.

“I saw you…” he rasped, pushing the hair gently away from my face, his thumb brushing my temple tenderly. “At the library... talking with that asshole… laughing… looking so fucking pretty”

I hummed around him, and he let out a strangled sound, his hips bucking slightly.

“Fuck, Y/N... I hated it, it made me crazy.” he admitted, his voice cracking as he stroked my cheek. “Wanted to punch him.” he gasped. “Wanted to drag you away... claim you…”

The words sent a sharp pulse of heat through me. I pulled back just enough to look up at him, my hand stroking him lazily. My heart pounded at his raw honesty, but I didn’t let up. If anything, I doubled down — moving faster, stroking the base with one hand while my mouth worked him expertly.

He was unraveling. Completely. And he didn't even try to hide it anymore.

“Fucking jealous.” he muttered, his head tipping back, exposing the long line of his throat.

I felt him tense, his thighs trembling slightly. Before he could lose it completely, he tugged me up by the shoulders, pulling me into his lap with a growl.

“Get up here” he ordered, voice rough, desperate.

Without another word, he pulled me up by the arms, yanking me onto his lap. I straddled him, sliding my body against his, feeling the heat of his skin under my fingers. Our faces inches apart, both breathing hard.

The soju had given him a slight flush — his cheeks pink, his chest heaving — and it made him look almost innocent. Almost. He wasn't.

I could feel his eyes on me, his gaze dark and filled with something I wasn’t sure I was ready to acknowledge. His hands were on my hips, gripping me so tightly it almost hurt, and for a moment, I let myself savor that — the way he was barely holding on, like if he let go, I might slip away from him.

I pulled my sweater off slowly, teasing him with every inch of skin that was exposed, the fabric sliding over my shoulders and down my arms, before I tossed it carelessly aside. His breath caught when my bra followed, and I couldn’t help but smile at the way his eyes devoured me, like he was trying to memorize it, the hunger in them making my pulse race.

I stood up, feeling his gaze track every movement as I slowly unzipped my skirt and let it fall to the floor, leaving me in nothing but my lace panties. Seungmin was breathless now, his chest rising and falling with rapid breaths as he reached out to touch me, his fingers brushing against my bare thighs, reverent, sending a wave of shivers through me.

“Fuck, you're killing me…” he whispered, voice hoarse.

I leaned in, kissing him slow and deep, feeling the desperation vibrating through him. Without breaking the kiss I slid my hand between us, guiding him to my entrance, and slowly, excruciatingly slowly, I sank down onto him.

The feeling of him inside me was overwhelming — I could feel every inch of him, stretching me, filling me completely. Both of us gasped at the same time, my body shaking slightly from the intensity of it.

I stayed still for a moment, letting the sensation settle, trying to focus on the way his hands gripped my waist, his fingers digging into my skin as if he was trying to keep me grounded.

“You feel so fucking good.” he groaned, his voice low and strained. “I can’t even…”

His hands moved from my waist to my hips, his thumbs pressing against the sides of my ribs, and then he helped me move, his body matching the rhythm I set. I leaned back slightly, letting him fill me deeper with every movement, my hands resting on his chest for balance as I rocked against him. He reached up, running his hands over my waist, my stomach, my breasts, like he couldn't get enough.

His eyes never left me, watching the way my body moved over his, the way I controlled the pace, the way I made him feel like he was losing his mind. I leaned down, kissing him hard, desperate, letting him taste the hunger that had been building between us.

His hands slid up my back, pushing my hair away from my neck, and he kissed me there — soft at first, then with more urgency. The contrast between his gentleness and the rawness of our bodies crashing together made my breath catch.

“You’re fucking perfect.” he muttered, his lips against my skin. “God, you feel so perfect.”

I increased the pace, rolling my hips faster, harder, the friction between us driving both of us to the edge. He was moaning now, his hands moving to my breasts, squeezing and massaging them as I continued to ride him.

I could feel him getting closer — his movements more frantic, more desperate — and I loved the way he was losing himself in me.

“Y/N... Fuck, you’re incredible…” he groaned, his hands slid under my ass, guiding me, helping me move faster, deeper.

I felt my own orgasm building — the pressure, the heat, the way our bodies were in perfect sync, like we were both caught in the same storm.

I leaned down, kissing him again, this time slower, more tender, as I continued to move on top of him. He pulled me closer, his hands sliding up my back, pulling me into him as if he couldn’t get close enough.

“God, you’re beautiful.” he praised me again, his voice cracking. “You're a fucking dream, Y/N.”

That broke me. The words, the way he said them with such vulnerability, the way he couldn’t hide how much he cared — it was too much.

I came first, my body shaking as the pleasure coursed through me, and Seungmin followed right after, his whole body tensing beneath me as he groaned my name.

We collapsed together, both of us gasping for air, trembling from the intensity of it all.

Seungmin’s hand found my face, his thumb brushing over my cheek as he pulled me into a slow kiss, still out of breath but somehow still wanting more. He pulled back after a moment, his forehead resting against mine as we both tried to catch our breath.

I smiled, my fingers tracing the lines of his jaw as I looked down at him.

The slow kiss between us deepened, his forehead pressed against mine, so close I could feel the soft flutter of his eyelashes against my skin, his arms still cradling my waist, his body still warm and heavy inside me. Seungmin's hand traced slow, lazy circles along my spine, as if he had no intention of letting me go.

As if I belonged there.

With him.

The world outside blurred into nothing — just the soft rumble of thunder far away and the faint tremble of Seungmin's breath against my lips.

And somewhere, in the middle of all that… my heart stuttered violently. But it wasn’t like before — not the rush of lust, not the usual reckless thrill.

It hurt.

A sharp, aching kind of pain that made my chest tighten and my lungs forget how to breathe.

And that was when it hit me.

I loved him.

The realization knocked the air out of me, heavier than the storm clouds gathering outside the window. Panic flared instantly in my chest, hotter than anything I had felt that night. The thought sliced through me with terrifying clarity.

I tried to breathe, tried to ground myself, but my mind betrayed me — flooding with every moment, every memory that led me here.

The way he encouraged me before the presentation and said — in the most nonchalant way possible — “You’re gonna kill it.” and “You’re smarter than half the people in this room.” Like it was the most normal thing to say to the girl you're supposed to hate.

The way he used to sit across from me in the library for hours, flicking tiny crumpled paper balls at my forehead every time I started to lose focus, pretending it was just to annoy me — but never leaving until I finished every last page.

The way, after the first time at his house we crossed the line, he wordlessly pulled me up from the messy bed, his arms steady and sure, carrying me straight to the bathroom. No teasing, no smirking — just warm hands steadying me under the shower spray, his fingers gently untangling my hair like I was something precious.

The way he disappeared into the kitchen afterward, reappearing fifteen minutes later with a grilled cheese — tragically burnt, awful grilled cheese — because he thought I might be hungry.

The way he always had some sarcastic comment ready to throw at me — just to see me roll my eyes and smile.

The way that when we were alone his fingers always found my wrist, my waist, the small of my back — little touches so casual they could have been accidental, but they never were. Like he needed the reassurance that I was real and still there.

The way he never once made me feel like I owed him anything in return.

The way he just... stayed.

All of it crashed into me at once, a kaleidoscope of moments that I hadn't realized mattered so much until now.

I opened my eyes, searching his face. He looked so peaceful. So real. His hair messy from my fingers, lips swollen from my kisses, a faint pinkness staining his cheeks from the soju we’d shared earlier. He looked like something I could never deserve but stupidly still wanted. No — needed.

The love sat heavy in my chest, raw and suffocating.

I love him.

I loved his stupid sarcasm. I loved his soft touches hidden behind gruff words. I loved his messy hair, his crooked smile, his smartass mouth. I love his little mole on the bridge of his nose. I loved the way he fought me, pushed me, infuriated me — and still made me feel seen in ways no one else ever had.

Panic clawed at my throat. This wasn’t part of the plan. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

No.

No, no, no.

I wasn’t supposed to feel this. I wasn’t supposed to love Seungmin.

Reality slammed back into me.

I shifted slightly, pulling away just enough for the space between us to feel vast again. Seungmin's brows furrowed, his hand tightening instinctively on my waist.

Leaning away from him, my body trembling as I scrambled off his lap. I could feel the sudden chill on my bare skin as I grabbed my discarded clothes, pulling my sweater over my head with frantic, clumsy hands, avoiding his confused, sleepy gaze.

“Y/N?” he called softly, his voice was thick, confused, still hoarse from our kisses. “Where are you–”

I didn't answer. I grabbed my skirt, slipping it back on quickly, reaching for my bag like the room was on fire.

“Where are you going?” he asked, standing up, his brows furrowing.

I didn’t even look at him. I needed to get out. Out of that room, out of the weight pressing down on my chest. I needed to breathe.

Before I did something irreversible. Before I begged him to love me back.

He moved toward the window and then froze. Outside, it had started to pour — sheets of rain hammering against the glass, the sky flashing briefly with distant lightning.

“It’s's raining.” he said, voice cautious. “Why don't you just... stay tonight?”

I shook my head frantically, shoving my feet into my shoes, my fingers trembling. “I can't.” I choked out, barely able to breathe, my throat closing.

He reached for me but I bolted, slamming the door behind me, running down the hallway, the sound of my footsteps echoing against the walls, my heart breaking with every step.

I ran down the stairwell, skipping steps as I sprinted downward, my heart racing, my vision blurring. The sound of rain getting louder, closer, until I burst through the front doors into the storm.

The moment I pushed the exit door open, the cold rain hit me like a wall, instantly soaking me to the bone — I had forgotten my coat —. I stumbled forward blindly, tears and raindrops blurring together on my face.

I barely made it a few steps before I heard him.

“Y/N!”

His voice, sharp, desperate, cutting through the downpour.

I ignored it. Kept walking. And then suddenly —A hand grabbed my arm and yanked me back, spinning me around.

Seungmin stood there, drenched, hair plastered to his forehead, chest heaving like he had just run a marathon, anger and hurt twisting his face into something almost unrecognizable.

His other hand fisted in my hair, yanking my head back slightly so I had to look at him. We were soaked, trembling, our breaths steaming in the cold night air.

His face was wild with frustration, with something deeper, something raw and terrified. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” he shouted, his voice cracking with anger and something else — fear.

I shoved him. Hard.

My hands slamming against his chest, tears spilling from my eyes. “This is your fault!” I screamed, my voice raw, breaking. “Your stupid hair– your fucking smile– your goddamn eyes–”

I shoved him again, sobbing now, my fists hitting his chest uselessly. “I wasn't supposed to feel this! I wasn’t supposed to love you!”

Seungmin grabbed my wrists, holding them tightly, forcing me to stop hitting him. His hands were rough but not cruel — desperate. “You think this was easy for me?!” he shouted back, his voice cracking. “You think it didn’t fucking kill me to see you every day and pretend you weren't everything I wanted?!”

I struggled against him, tears streaming down my face, mixing with the rain.

“You think I didn’t want to scream every time someone else looked at you like you weren't mine?!” he gasped, voice hoarse with the weight of everything he had been holding back. “I wanted to tell everyone. I wanted to grab you and say— she’s fucking mine.”

The rain pounded harder, soaking through our clothes, making our bodies slick against each other.

I tried to pull away again, but he gripped my shoulders tighter, pulling me closer, locking his burning eyes to mine. “You felt it too.” he whispered fiercely. “Tell me you felt it too, Y/N.”

I shook my head weakly, trying to pull away from him, the rain blinding me, my heart pounding so loud I couldn’t think. “I can't–” I gasped, my voice barely audible.

But he didn’t let me go. He stepped closer, almost shaking with the effort of keeping himself together. “Look at me.” he demanded. “Look me in the fucking eyes and tell me it wasn’t real. Tell me you don’t feel anything. Tell me you don’t love me.”

I opened my mouth. Tried to speak. Tried to lie.

Nothing came out, not a single curse or remark. Nothing except a broken sob.

“Tell me you don't feel it, Y/N.”he shouted. “Tell me you don't love me.” His voice broke on the last word, and for a second, the world around us went silent except for the rain pounding against the pavement.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. My throat closed up, the words stuck somewhere between terror and heartbreak. “I don't– I–” I tried, but I couldn’t finish. I couldn’t lie.

The pain on his face when I faltered nearly broke me in half. He saw the truth in my eyes before I could even say it.

We crashed into each other. The kiss was brutal, angry, full of tears and frustration and all the love we were too scared to admit. Full of every unspoken word, every feeling we were too terrified to say out loud.

His hands tangled in my hair, yanking me closer, desperate, like he needed me to breathe. My fists clutched his soaked shirt, pulling him down to me as if I could tear him apart and rebuild him at the same time.

Tears mixed with the rain on both of our faces, the salty taste of heartbreak on our lips as we clung to each other in the storm, drowning in everything we had tried so hard to deny.

We kissed like we were drowning. Because maybe we were.

We were soaked. We were shaking. We were real. And for the first time, we weren't hiding anymore.

He pressed his forehead against mine, rain soaking us, his hand trembling on my waist, his breath was shaky against my lips.

“You're messy, infuriating, impossible — no one never would wreck me the way you do. But I'd let you, a thousand times over, cause that's the way i love you.

[catcoffee02]

So, I tried to watch Galvatron Revenge, I have not survived 5 minute in the film. I was confused by the animation and compositions.

The animations are terrible, there was no attempt at rendering (yes, I am getting a 3d animation degree. I can judge my friends). The uv? What's that? Lights? Ah, you mean full light! Details? Nah. What are those???

To me It looks like a B class game! We did better games and animations in university with little less.

Story? It doesn't make sense. First, I was pretty sure that HotRod (Rodimus) storyline was used for Smokescreen: so we have two characters that are the same. Optimus back to life?? It was the reason Rid 2015 was hated so much. Also, Galvatron coming back? Why so? I think they both deserved their ends at the time, but I gave it half a chance.

Arcee writing? What is that? Tf in the '80 and TF in the '80 was even Less sexist at this point, *porcone italian style*

Composition. Oh man. Don't make me start. 

Some of them are ok, but not as memorable, they work terribly cause of the lack of lights! The drama, the darks and lights?? The colors of the lights?? It's so... Uh, flat.

Animation? Maybe the face rig doesn't work as bad, but the rest? Oh man, it is horrible. 

They are stiff. I know that they are robots, but they lack something, the middle between action that many 3d animations do.

Well, Optimus VC too, but people seem to already talk about it.

Not only talk about the money, no DVD is going to be given, but, also, it's a big fucking scam. And will pass as the most horrendous film, even as a fan film. If not the worst scam in transformers history and how will leave a mark to TF prime and in TF History.

[softantlers]

This fandom is so fucking weird about Lottie and it really reflects how society views the mentally ill. I’ve seen people say that they should hate Lottie because her Dad got them the plan or that she should hate her because she and I quote “Knew she was crazy” and should have told them they were going to be stranded with “a crazy person”.

I saw a tweet that referenced Lottie as one of the Yellowjackets with a good heart and people were calling her evil and saying she’s the main reason they stayed another winter when we all saw them walking away from Lottie and her not stopping them. Shauna forbid them from going and they listened to Shauna when they could have ignored her and sent rescue back for Lottie, Tai and Shauna. Hannah is also the one who killed Kodiak

Lottie fans know that Lottie is not blameless and that things she directly and indirectly did caused people harm but Lottie haters cannot name a single evil or bad natured thing Lottie intentionally did when Lottie is in control of her consciousness- not off meds or on shrooms.

And they only argue this about Lottie and no one else. People aren’t capable of nuanced thought when it comes to Lottie. Shauna gets more Grace and nuance when she was a horrible before they even set foot on that plane. Tragedies she experienced made the existing bad traits worse but we aren’t going to act like if the plane hadn’t crashed, Shauna wouldn’t have grown up to sate her sadistic needs by terrorizing the suburbs or her co-workers.

Lottie doesn’t even bully Misty or laugh at it when the others do. Van was Misty’s worst bully on the team. Van rigged the cards in her and Tai’s favor in a death game. Van was actually there and watched Javi die and didn’t do a thing to help him. Van knew Ben didn’t burn down the cabin but was one of the ones in main support for his death. With that being said, I don’t even consider Van to be a bad person.

Lottie is a fictional character, but just imagine how they treat the mentally ill in real life?

honestly, great points!!

it's so hard for me because i genuinely don't hate or condemn any of these characters, you know? like, it's very clear to see how we got from here to there, even as they are obviously doing things i don't support.

as an example with shauna, she's obviously experienced profound tragedy. it doesn't make her abuse any less abusive or acceptable, but we see how she got there. with van, she is going to end up rigging the cards, but we see all her brushes with death & her love for taissa, and we see how she got here. with fucking travis, i mean good lord?? he's been through a ton & i can see why he made the pit, even as i don't think he has a "right" to kill anyone like my last anon asked.

if you can see that lottie is unmedicated, being brought into an extremely traumatic situation that would cause mental breaks even if you didn't have a preexisting disorder, and then constantly subjected to the most damaging affirmation from the people around her as it suits their needs... if you can see all of that, but you CAN have sympathy for the other characters, & you can't have at least a little insight into lottie's actions and how they begin to escalate beyond EVIL, even if you don't promote or accept them, shit... then maybe you're a fucking asshole, sorry to say.

[jollyreginaldrancher]

Yellowjackets liveblogging S3 e9

Was that adult Misty saying the "previously on" line?

My first question is did Melissa eat it?

Van's in hospital and seeing mini Van!

Aww she wants Tai

And mini Van is giving Misty props for sticking around lowkey while shading Shauna (as she should)

I don't want to believe it but Van's pretty close to death, huh? Cause they established you don't see the wilderness without a lil death and that's most definitely the wilderness talking to her through minivan.

Anyway looks like we're going on a journey.

Wonder what for

Tai, I don't think she's gonna make it home. I think this is her swan song. That you're gonna hitch a ride with Walter to oblivion.

Fuck I'm sad already

I've got a million different comfort foods but I just want Van to live. That's my comfort food.

RUN Kellysa RUN!

Good for her honestly

Oh fuck her wife did just say she was out of gas

Shauna's gonna be chewing into that ass in under an hour.

I never look at the credits cause I don't want spoilers but it sounds extra spooky today. I have a feeling shit is going down this ep.

I mean it's the second last though so yeah.

Tell her Nat.

I hate when Shauna and shit are right cause then I gotta side with the people I don't fuck with.

Tai's right though. They can't go yet.

That dude is tempting fate right now though. I'm guessing he's gonna try to run anyway. Wonder if he'll be part of the inevitable split in the group that I foresee happening now that we have two or more queens or just a side thing. Splintering into his own group. Maybe with Travis even. Totally not wishful thinking that Travis just fucks off btw.

Van has many points though, take a lot of seats Tai.

Practicing with the cards?!

The game is rigged!

Is she rigging it for her and Tai though or rigging it for everyone? Picking who lives and dies and so on? Tai lost the last one but they were fishing for a different card. I don't think she's been rigging it since the beginning but I'm sure she's gonna try from now on for sure. To keep herself and Tai and maybe even Misty and Shauna and Nat alive and Lottie too depending on how well thought out this plan is. I can see her and Tai sitting down and picking who needs to survive the most to give them all their best chance of survival and picking them out.

Adult Misty continues to slay away

They actually ran into Melissa I can't.

Out of the frying pan into the pyre.

She really paused to bandage her arm?!

Misty fuckdhskdjc recognised her ass immediately!

Also I love that despite Taissa's continued use of illegal tackles, it was Misty that got her ass lmfao. Like Tai and other Tai you can deal with but Misty in a leather jacket?!

Bottom Tai truthers are winning this ep.

Come on Travis, get pegged!

Please it's on my bingo card!

Pit trap origin story

Tell me that's not supposed to be sexual tension

Tell me Shauna's not gonna fuck that grandpa

Tell me nobody fucks that guy

Aside from maybe Travis, because I would count it as him getting pegged.

MISTY? SIDING WITH TAISSA AND SHAUNA AND MELISSA AND VAN?! MY HEART! MY HEART HURTS! HOW CAN YOU DO THIS TO YOUR WIFE?

Misty's self awareness though. She knows she's being fucked around. She doesn't lash out she just stores that info and uses it to her advantage. This is why I keep telling you she's not to be fucked with strategically but people are sleeping on my girl.

Not Shauna on crime scene cleanup lmao

YAS MISTY YAS QUEEN STAND UP FOR YOURSELF!

I give it five hours before she cracks the case wide open. I know she won't need them but I'll give them to her anyway.

Ain't no way Travis is trying to lead Lottie into a fucking trap right now.

Natalie I love you, I really do, but you picked the worst possible lineup for this ranked match

Back to the shitecki house. I swear if this is about the Joel's again i-

Is Misty about to get a literal lift via helicopter? Im- girl okay fuck it, put a ring on him

He's a creep and he will probably try to kill you but he'd do that anyway I imagine.

Queen of getting into people's heads Misty Quigley

What IS Van up to though? I'm curious now. First I thought she was fucking off but then I realised she's working on something

The phone?

Ok but is Misty gonna tell on Van for brownie points or is she gonna help her fix it? I think the latter but I can't be sure yet. Just from her reaction though. She seemed conflicted.

I see Hanna's already bonding with Melissa. Melissa and Shauna both knew she had a kid?! Damn. Anyway loving that there's trouble in paradise. Like Shauna BFFR you can't just be toxic and abusive and shit and still keep her loyal to your side of this shit.

Holly shit they went out and had a whole fight in the streets

Shauna calling Melissa nothing, saying she was nothing before her and is nothing without her and the way the camera focused on Misty there. Oof

I love how Natalie's just awkwardly standing there like two feet away from Melissa, doing nothing by the way. Everyone is, but Natalie is standing right in the thick of it lol.

WAIT, SHAUNA!

NOT THE FUCKING GUN ARE YOU SERIOUS?

WHAT ARE YOU GONNA FUCKING DOUBLETAP HER?

Shauna is in her Florida Man season I swear

Baby don't dare her you don't know what brand of crazy she's got

Oh my god I can't believe she just fucking shot her

And she ... Did she just? Oh my god...poor girl. Poor baby Melissa. I feel so bad for her this season. I take back anything bad I said about her. Van, you too. Fuck this. Fuck Shauna. That moment of humanity from Van, reminds me of the good times and why I loved her to begin with. She didn't really have much of those but the way she cared for Taissa all season 2 and has been taking care of people in her own way. Yeah, I do love her.

That was sweet. Heartbreaking moment. I wanna stand up and punch Shauna in the face myself.

Worth noting that Natalie who again was RIGHT NEXT TO MEL didn't jump in to protect her at all. Ultimately as much as she is for the people and protecting everyone she's powerless to stop Shauna and help anyone and she should have been pissing her pants too.

I can see you were conflicted Travis. I still don't care for you or your POV. Fuck you for trying to kill Lottie. It didn't take but fuck you anyway. And I am sure there's a reasonable explanation for this too, damn it. This doesn't prove anything.

I wonder if they're gonna include Misty and/or Mel in their plan to leave now. Doubt it, they're assholes, but yeah.

I don't care for the Callie/Jeff scenes either. Unless she reveals the missing note idg much of a fuck tbh.

Lmao not Shauna expecting Melissa to come to bed with her and shit.

Yas queen, has Melissa, go off with the shits!

For a second I thought Misty was in on it but I guess she's working on the phone?

I'm not buying the thrift shop excuse.

Also aren't they worried someone's gonna see all them lights are on in the middle of the night?

Hold on, whose hair is Shauna playing with? Jackie's? Did she take some of Jackie's?

Her hair is not this long is it?

Is Shauna Rapunzel?

Oh wait it was Hannah's, from that chase lmao, I forgot 😂

This is weird though

They all think Misty's weird but come on, this is serial killer behaviour.

Holly fucking shitty fuck!

I guess they're not busting out tonight. Or any night. I see your disappointment Misty, you were in on it, weren't you?

Maybe she was super duper ultra deep undercover. For Nat. Three timing them.

Anyway, Walter is too damn rich and connected for me to buy that story about his wealth.

Anyway she looks extra fine in this scene and honestly it's obviously Walter, like I think I suspected earlier.

Don't drink that, Misty, baby, you'll wake up I'm his sex dungeon, or worse, a bird cage.

Oh fuck this show for not showing us what Misty saw BTW

Anyway Melissa is still an idiot I guess. She took them out but at what cost? I gotta say I'm surprised though, I thought she was gonna try to use that cord to somehow escape from her bondage but not by almost dying first.

Aww van gave Tai her oxygen

Is that the PHONE FROM EARLIER THIS SEASON?

Probably not

Ooh Tai on Tai fight

Tai on Tai crime

Good Tai's back!

What's Van gonna do though? Save Melissa or end her? I mean all season she's been advocating to not kill anyone for her sake but now? She does think maybe though that she might have killed Lottie. That could factor into it.

Aww Natalie, my poor baby. Is it bad that I was laughing at this point? Like I can also feel myself losing my sanity. But also a tiny part of me was like "this is karma for what she did to Misty. This is karma for killing coach Ben" a part of me enjoyed watching her suffer. I'm not proud of it but a small vindictive part of me enjoyed watching all those tears. Yeah you killed him to save him but look at where that got you. You screwed yourself in the process. Hope it was worth it. Also Misty.

I don't know, I just spent a whole season of everyone abusing and using Misty to get what they want, and no matter how much I like them, it's kind of satisfying to see them suffer, at least a little, even if it's not directly for what they did.

Did she really just sit there and cry this whole time though? And everyone just left her? God, these kids are assholes. How could they forget about her? She's so white she practically glows in the dark. She's coming out of the woods like:

Love that Natalie took a minute to pause her sobbing just to be a nosey little bitch. Good for her. Honestly it's what I would've done too...

What's Misty digging up though?

THE GODDAMN FLIGHT RECORDER?

She hid it? That well? I gotta give her credit for this. She even remembered where she put it. I lose my glasses in bed and my whole day is gone.

Oh fuck, Natalie saw her.

Okay maybe it won't go that bad. Maybe she won't know what it is or she'll give her the benefit of the doubt.

Misty looking so proud here. Lil goober.

Woah, hey, no, that's not the- ahh who am I kidding, Misty is toast. She's fucked. I didn't think they'd go there cause how the fuck does she survive this? Now especially? I feel like people peer pressured them into covering this and that's why they had to pull this out now, cause if she was caught in it in winter she'd be their next meal, for sure. Though now I'm starting to think she might have been dead all along and following the team as a damn ghost. Idek anymore.

Once again I ask how are they gonna get through this? How are they gonna not only both survive but also have the relationship they have as adults.

I just hope Misty can talk her way out of this. Without selling anybody out. We already have Hannah acting like Shauna 2.0, we don't need another Hannah in the group.

Please tell me we don't leave it like this. Please tell me we get some resolution to this plot this week. Tell me I don't have to wait a while week to see how Natalie reacts to this.

Ooh that song choice...

I'm so scared right now, I can't lie

Melissa has been inhaling smoke but look how she fought this episode. She's at the prime of her life. And Van is battling cancer. She could have let Taissa do it. If she was gonna... But she wouldn't do that. But now. I'm scared. Scared for Van. Scared for Melissa even. But I think I know it's not gonna be her. Not just from the vague posts I saw earlier but because Melissa has a whole family. She has a wife and a kid to fight for. And Van? She has next to nothing. She's sleeping with someone else's wife and robbing a kid from their mother. Her business is failing, her crops dying, skin unclear.

It's possible Melissa has been doing sacrifices on the side too, to prosper, mind you. Sent a message to see if Shauna was down like that too. I don't know though.

Nooooooooooooo

No

[toaverse]

I'll say this. I love Arcane, got into it after a mutual got into the show, then seaon 2 was.. something. I didn't hate it, but I didn't like it blindly. There's some elements I wish were explained better and some that just ruined season 1. The part with the hexgate connected that not only pollutes the undercity, but is also RIGGED TO EXPLODE IF THE HEXGATES GOES TO SHIT makes me think why the hell would Viktor approve this?! Season 1 Viktor would have never agreed to the Hexgates if the trade off is, at best, Zaun getting polluted, and at worst, getting it nuked off the face of the map (which thank god Caitlyn didn't figure that out cause if that crazy to go after Jinx using the gray, I feared what she do with a nuke.)

I have a fanfic in development that will follow mostly season 1 with OCs but adding and changing a lot of Season 2 canon to make it work better. Two examples I will give:

In the six months in between, Swain and his two other members of the triforce go to Piltover to demand Ambessa return and stop the dictatorship as not only is Swain the new Grand General, but that she and her daughter are under suspicion of the black rose due to Kinno (In my version, Swain killed Kinno as he's a member of the Black Rose). Ambessa tries to fight against it, but her soldiers have to follow Swain first and foremost. Swain is the head honcho. And if he says "Stop this bullshit and get back home" then so be it. Cait would object obviously, but Swain couldn't give two fucks about it and gives her a much needed reality check via bitch slap. And this is where I add the crow, cause the crow is associated with Swain and I figure He learn about it sometime, so Swain does spill to Caitlyn that ambessa was behind the memorial attack to get caitlyn on the war path due to Ambessa failing her own daughter so poorly (A post related to how Swain would not think highly of the Medardas explaisn it beautifully and I'll share it) . So now Caitlyn is emotionally humilated and realizes just how much she messed up and how used she was. Because of all this and with Swain, there is no giant Battle. Swain came in and just pulled the plug, and if ambessa still argues against it... he just kills her. Plain and fucking simple.

Black Rose and Mel. TBH, I wasn't a fan of Mel being an affair baby made to a weapon line. So I'm simplifying it to Le Blanc taking interest in Mel cause Kinno mentioned Mel by name and how she be a perfect member of the Black Rose. Rather than just, kidnapping her, Le Blanc grooms her. How could she groom her? This is where I will add the alternate way the bombing in the begnning goes... Viktor's connection to the hexcore somehow protects him, creating a shield that protects only him. I say that cause the shield literally pushes Jayce and Mel to opposite sides with various results. Jayce gets a bad head injury and injures his leg (not too much) while Mel... well. Salo dies in here so... Mel is the one who's lower spine is fucked to the point of getting paralyzed. Yes. I'm flat out making Mel disabled from the attack. This gives Ambessa the perfect oppertunity to remove Mel from the council as she can make the excuse of Mel needing time to recover and being in a delicate condition. The memorial attack was worse, as here, Elora dies and the attack leaves Mel with a worser injury. So Mel is powerless, friendless, watching her mother destroy her city while her surving relationship with Jayce falls apart (making it platonic here) leaving her utterly alone... perfect for LeBlanc to manipulate. Course Mel does rebel but it came at a high cost. That is all I'll share for now but I just want to say that as much as Arcane Season 2 was disappointing, I remember how the best works of art are birthed from Spite. The dome in Florence was created from spite. SO I will make my fanfic of Arcane from spite and love (now I just have to continue writing chapter 1 thought :,3 Thank you for allowing me to drabble.

Thank you for sharing this!

I love the addition of Swain and his no-nonsense attitude towards Ambessa and Cait! Love that shit!

I do have some things I personally would change/leave out, but I don't want to discourage you. Go for it!

Please send me the link once chapter 1 is out!

[g0ttal0ve101]

🪩 School Dance Headcanons! 🪩

I just thought. I should elaborate on the fact that ALL my ocs go to the same school therefore would attend the dances together and I’m……at a lost for words 💀 anyway tho i’ll include @billys-bbg ‘s ocs bc shipping reasons so yea :3

Thomas

The dance king by default. like. DEFAULT. before the dance was even ANNOUNCED he was alr it. and that’s on peaking in high school….so obv all the girls want to be the dance queen, blah blah blah, ok. BUT HOW WILL THOMAS CHOOSE? (spoiler alert: murder 🥱)

He’ll lock up all the girls hot enough to go with him in one room, force them to murder each other in a certain amount of time, then whoever lasts he’ll go with!!

The final girl is SO EXCITED TO HAVE HER HANDS ON THE DANCE QUEEN POSITION!!

^ Until Thomas changes his mind and goes with Riley anyway. Indecisive people are the worst, right? :3

Anyway he wears the most expensive brands and shit to a fucking FOUR hour party…..like bro…it’s never that deep

he tries to pull riley before and after the dance but…no. she was too busy hanging out with that sam boy or whatever. BOOOORING. YAAAWNINGGG. am i right? (no)

^ bc he’s salty, he convinces everyone to vote for riley to be the dance’s queen, just to make sam pissed off. (again, spoiler alert!! IT WORKS!!)

His after party is to KILL for though. Drugs, sex, and alcohol included!!! just forget abt the missing young ladies ok?

Evelyn

SHE TAKES THIS SHIT WAY TOO SERIOUSLY.

stunning, gorgeous, beautiful, radiant, captivating, charming, elegant, striking, dashing, alluring, exquisite, lovely, mesmerizing, enchanting, irresistible, fabulous, charismatic, fashionable, incredible, incomparable, graceful, appealing, el-

Violet is sooo supportive of her…despite having to go dress shopping for eight hours straight 😻 (Evelyn couldn’t decide and her gf was passing out from the amount of beauty she witnessed 💀)

At the party though, she immediately wants to leave. She literally just showed up bc getting ready is fun n shi…

BUT SHE DID SLOW DANCE WITH HER GF BEFORE LEAVING TO GO MAKE OUT!! TRUST!!!

everyone’s honest reaction when she showed up in a limbo that she actually owned: 😦

^ she was definitely the ride for everyone to get there……..

Sam

sigh. this boy has been preparing to propose to riley since the beginning of the school year. he literally had fifty mental breakdowns beforehand just for her to say ‘uh babe obv we’re going together, you’re my bf?’

but the issue is…they both don’t know what their gonna wear. riley HATES dresses and sam is going through the horrors of gender dysphoria…HOWEVER!! THEY CONQUER THEIR FEARS AND GO SHOPPING AT THE MALL TOGETHER!!!!!! only for them to get really cute outfits that compliment each other very well. (sam sobbed when seeing riley all dressed up for the first time.)

GAAAAAH THEY DID EACH OTHER’S HAIR AND NAILS!!! THE CUTIES!!! ofc riley’s parents didnt want anything to do with the dance so sam’s mom ended up doing the photo shoot and taking them to dinner!! she lit thinks of riley as her own daughter atp…. (she is the #1 riam shipper!!)

at the party, jordan is pissed off that riley had moved on from him and tried to rub it in her face that he pulled tons of other bitches. (A.K.A. lindsey hall who sleeps with literally every single man she can get with and has 91827391927382 diseases. 😻) sam wants to brutally murder him but doesn’t want to ruin the night by causing any sort of drama, so let’s the side eyeing go and plans the murder for later.

everything is going well up until the king and queen are announced!! for some reason, riley won the queen position even though half the girls at school hated her, especially after the breakup with jordan. they knew IMMEDIATELY that thomas rigged the whole thing…….

once she’s called up there, thomas spews out some bullshit about sam to embarrass him and make him cry in front of everyone. it was all fun and games until girlie literally slapped the shit outta him in front of the entire fucking school. 💀

^ everyone was STUNNED. JAW ELONGATED. EYES BUGGING OUT. ETC. The chaperones wanted to escort both riley and sam out, but thomas told them to let it go and let them continue dancing. after convincing them of it, he had the balls to invite both of them to his after party too. asshole, am i right?

….they both end up going lmao. (alcohol 😻)

Max

he tags along with the gang ™️ even though he’s super poor and cannot afford to get any sort of outfit!!

^ ends up wearing his older brother’s clothes instead lmao.

he tries to stick with lucian for the beginning of the night, but seeing kai’s eyes shooting out daggers to ensure he knew his place…sorta scared him off……

then he tries to stick with evelyn!! but she leaves early to go make out with her gf 💀

then he tries to stick with sam!! but….something was off? how much fruit punch did he spill on himself and……did he splash it on riley too? they looked like they murdered someone or something haha!

^ wait where did that big group of girls go?

ANYWAY. it’s time to stick around thomas on the dance floor. surely nothing could go wrong, right? ….uh. did Thomas just drug that girl’s drink?

after seeing that, he called his brother to come pick him up. 💀

Lucian

*lovely dovey sigh* lucian loves school dances! he loves the lights, the food, the dancing, the music…but the same could not be said about his date. Kai DESPISES these sorta gatherings, considering he doesn’t like ANY of these motherfuckers around them. he only went since he knew lucian was excited for it and didn’t want to disappoint.

the proposal (made by our silly boy kai :3) went as follows: lucian wil u plez go to the danse with me ? i wil birng ring pops i love u (dyslexic rizz)

despite having completely different styles, their suits still complimented each other to a T. lucian wore a soft, fitting suit while his bf wore his usual spikes and combat boots he always did. everyone could recognize who they were from miles away.

KAI HAD A SEIZURE WHEN SEEING HIS BF WEARING HIS HAIR UP IN A CUTE LIL PONYTAIL. BRO WAS SPAZZING OUT ON THE FLOOR, DYING EVEN.

lucian hung out with a few other groups of friends while there, having a light hearted conversation and a good time. he always wondered why they would be quick to leave and almost look….scared? kai reassured him that it was probably nothing, knowing DAMN WELL he was scaring them off by death staring into their fucking souls.

they ate everyone up when slow dancing bc obv two idiots who have no idea what they’re doing is MUCH cuter and efficient than losers who take things seriously 🥱

whenever they got tired of walking around or dancing or whatever, kai would claim a table and let lucian sit in his lap to take a drink. (these bitches WISH they had what they had 💀)

the dance ended at 10:30 and lucian’s usual bedtime was at 9:00…..he was nearly passing out by the time they got in the car to leave. kai had to carry him to bed….

[taeyongdoyoung]

summary: as far as you’re aware, lee minho is your worst enemy. his favourite hobby is bullying your best friend hyunjin. after a particular incident, which leads to you ending up in detention with minho, he suggests an unlikely proposition that would put an end to hyunjin being tormented. and you would do anything to protect your best friend...

pairing: minho x reader x hyunjin

genre: high school!au, angst, smut, enemies to lovers, friends to lovers

warnings: swearing, bullying, physical violence (punching), mentions of blood, flirting, kissing, public indecency (i mean, they’re at school), flashing, fingering, dumbification (if you squint), stealing panties, lying, secrets, handjob, degradation kink, scraped knees, making out, lap-sitting, praise kink, pet names (e.g. angel, babe, doll, sweetheart), fear of rejection, falling for a friend, two-timing

author’s note: the title is inspired by stray kids’s mixtape: on track; also let’s just say the characters are 18 for the spicy parts (we’re blatantly ignoring the fact minho & hyunjin were born in different years for plot reasons lmfao)

word count: 5.7k

part two: you’re too pretty to be just friends

part three: i wanna STAY with you

Your high school life could be defined with two words: sucks ass. Honestly, the only good thing about it was meeting your best friend Hyunjin on the very first day, which was almost five years ago. As you were already in your last year of high school, one would think problems such as bullying were a thing of the past, a childish game. However, Hyunjin was not so lucky. In your third year of high school, there was a new student. The insufferable Lee Minho. 

And you had no idea why but he seemed intent on making your best friend's existence a living hell. You couldn't understand. Hyunjin was always such a sweetheart. So, why was that jerk being so mean to poor Hyun? It was beyond you. No matter how many times you complained about this issue to the teachers, they just didn't seem to care. Hyunjin told you to just drop it and try not to pay attention, but you couldn't just idly sit by as Minho kept saying hurtful things to Hyunjin, thrashing his locker and stealing his phone.

One day, Minho had the audacity of tripping Hyunjin, causing him to get a nosebleed! That was it. You couldn't take it any longer. Without thinking of the consequences, you punched Minho in the face. Right there, in the school hallway. Unfortunately, not only students saw. But one of your teachers, as well.

"Congratulations, Y/N, you got yourself one week of detention."

"But, Mr. Park, this is so unfair!" you exclaimed. "Minho attacked Hyunjin first, I was just defending my friend."

"Well, in that case, Minho also gets detention."

"I've been trying to talk to you about him bullying Hyunjin for ages but I punch him once and suddenly, I'm at fault? I fucking hate this system."

"Language, young lady!" Mr. Park scolded you. "Or should I make it two weeks of detention?"

"I can't believe I'm taking the side of the girl who just punched me but you're a fucking hypocrite, Mr. Park. With all due respect," Minho spoke out in your favour, shocking everyone.

"That's it. You're both getting two weeks of detention and if I were you, I would weigh in my next words very carefully."

You rolled your eyes but didn't bother continuing to argue. This whole organization was rigged and you couldn't wait to get out of it.

"Are you alright, Hyun?" you asked gently, kneeling next to him on the ground and checking to see if his nosebleed had stopped.

"Worry about yourself," he sighed. "What were you thinking, punching Minho like that and swearing at Mr. Park?"

"I don't care if I have to go to detention. It was about time someone did the right thing."

"You shouldn't get in trouble because of me," Hyunjin insisted. "This could ruin your chances of being accepted in your dream college."

"I'll be fine. Does your nose hurt?"

"It's not that bad. Honestly, I think what you did to Minho is far worse."

"Are you feeling sorry for him?" you scoffed indignantly.

"Not really, I just can't believe you're getting detention. You're the best student in the whole school and Mr. Park is so going to burn in hell for this."

That made you laugh.

"Everything will be alright, Hyun."

"How can you say that? You and Minho in the same room...every day after classes, for two weeks? That can't end well."

Oh, shit, you really hadn't thought this through, had you?

Once classes ended, you had to say a brief goodbye to Hyunjin and head towards Mr. Park’s office aka detention room. You had never been there before, because you were a model student. Always doing your homework and helping other students, you had never gotten into trouble. But your principles were so strong that despite Hyunjin’s pleas not to get involved, you simply couldn't silently observe yet another example of Minho's bullying towards your best friend. As you entered the dreadful room, Mr. Park simply informed you and Minho (as you were the only students there today), that he had some business to attend to do, so he would lock you two in the detention room. What an ass. He'd given the cleaning lady instructions to unlock you at 5pm (which was two hours from now). Ugh, you just had to bear it somehow. You quietly opened your notebook, intending to complete your assignments and spend all the time ignoring Minho. Tragically, he seemed to have another idea in mind.

"Why did you punch me?"

"Because you fucking tripped Hyunjin and he got a nosebleed!" you cried out the obvious.

"So...if I hadn't done that, you wouldn't have punched me?"

"You would have no doubt figured out some other way to torment him," you hissed. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm trying to work on something."

Minho groaned loudly but kept his mouth shut. The peaceful silence lasted only half an hour and then he was back to his usual, obnoxious self.

"Look...I'm sorry for tripping Hyunjin. Believe it or not, it was an accident."

"I can't believe this. Minho the Terrible...apologizing? Hell must have frozen over."

"I mean it," he insisted. "I know I tend to tease Hyunjin a lot but I wouldn't actually get physically violent on purpose. Unlike someone else in this room."

"Are you for real right now? You don't tease Hyunjin, you bully him. And I can't believe you're accusing me of being violent."

"Sure, Miss Anger Issues."

"I do not have anger issues!" you yelled at him. Okay, maybe just a little bit.

"Oh, yeah? You're the one who punched me, though."

"Fine, I'm sorry for punching you. If you're actually saying the truth about tripping Hyunjin being an accident. Happy now?"

Minho suddenly got up from his seat, towering over you in a way that seemed vaguely threatening. But you refused to be intimidated by him. You had punched him once and if he tried something dumb, you wouldn't hesitate to do it again.

"Say it like you mean it," he whispered.

Despite your previous thoughts, you gulped nervously. When it was in the heat of the moment and there were witnesses, it was somehow easier for you to just act without thinking. But now that it was just the two of you locked in the detention room, you couldn't seem to recall where your resolve had gone to. The tension between you two was making you extremely uncomfortable.

"I hate you," you mumbled.

Tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, Minho tilted his head slightly in a way that should not have been so damn adorable. God, what was wrong with you?

"I love it when you talk dirty to me," he chuckled.

"Shut up," you kept saying all the wrong things.

"Make me," Minho inclined his face closer to yours and you absolutely despised the way he was making you feel.

"What the actual fuck is wrong with you?" you somehow managed to squeak out.

"You're the first girl who's ever punched me. Scratch that. You're the only person who's ever been bold enough to stand up against me."

"What? And you get off on being punched? Shall I do it again? Might help you refresh your memory."

Minho was suddenly not in the mood to listen to you talk. He grabbed your hands tightly, as if to prevent you from making good on your threats, and spoke again:

"Listen to me very carefully. We're stuck here so we might as well do something useful with our time. The way I see it is you have two options. Option number one is we ignore each other for the next couple of hours, but once we're out of here, things will go back to normal. But something tells me you wouldn't like that. After all, if I keep bullying Hyunjin and you keep defending him, not only will you get yourself more detention, but you might have to say goodbye to your dream college, am I wrong?"

You hated that you were so transparent and he'd somehow overheard you talking to Hyunjin about your dream college. But most of all, you hated the fact that he was right.

"What is option number two?" you asked despite yourself.

"Simple. I could be generous enough to stop tormenting your best friend. I could just turn a blind eye to you punching me. I could even act nice to Hyunjin. Wouldn't that be a dream come true?"

"What's the catch?" you inquired. The Minho you knew and hated wouldn't do something so out of character. Not for free, at least.

"Why don't I show you instead of telling you?" he smirked and to your utmost shock, attacked your mouth with his own. You were even more shocked that your lips parted ever so slightly, letting his tongue in. Before you could ask yourself why on earth you were enjoying this, you pushed him away.

"Why did you do that?" you gasped.

"Oh, admit it, you liked it," Minho grinned confidently. "So, what do you say?"

"You...do you expect me to jump your bones?" you cried out indignantly.

"What do you take me for?" he placed a hand on his heart, feigning innocence. "For starters, you may give me a token of appreciation. It would highly motivate me to be on my best behaviour towards Hyunjin tomorrow."

When he put it that way...it didn't seem to be such a bad idea. You would not only be helping to make Hyunjin's life easier, but you would also stay out of trouble yourself. Oh, who were you kidding? Minho himself was trouble personified.

Without spending any more time to consider how wrong this thing was, you pulled your shirt up quickly, giving Minho the briefest flash.

"How's that for motivation?" you blushed.

"Whaaat, I didn't see anything," he complained.

"Be a good boy tomorrow and I might let you see more," you played along.

"You cheeky devil," Minho flicked your nose lightly. "You're gonna have to give me a little more than that if you want me to be nice."

"What do you want?"

"What are you willing to give me?" he answered your question with another question.

"Ask me and you'll find out," you murmured.

"How about this?" Minho started tracing circles around your bare knee with his pretty fingers. When you didn't stop him, his movements grew bolder, hands hiking up your skirt slowly. Again, you didn't move. When he reached the side of your panties and started slightly tugging onto them under your table experimentally, your breath hitched in surprise. Looking into his eyes as if begging him for something, you didn't know what exactly. When he touched your nether regions for the first time, you couldn't help but let out the lightest moan. 

"If only the whole school could see you now," he mocked you. "Not such a good girl, after all, are you? Letting me touch you like this?"

You shook your head stubbornly.

"I'm only letting you because you said...you said you'd stop-"

"Aw, poor angel can't even finish her sentence?" Minho pouted in fake pity for you.

"P-please," you were unaware what you were asking for. But he somehow knew.

Teasing you with his fingers until you couldn't think, couldn't speak, you had never felt such an overwhelming combination of feelings before. Pleasure - for being taken to such an unexpected high. Shame - for doing something so forbidden at school. Confusion - for not remembering why you agreed to this in the first place. Fear - for the possibility of getting caught. What surprised you most that hate was not one of the feelings you'd use to describe this whole thing.

"I'm keeping these," Minho informed you, putting your ruined panties into his pocket. 

Before you could argue with him, the unthinkable happened. The clock struck 5 and as if on cue, the cleaning lady came to unlock you. You were grateful your skirt was long enough to cover your lack of underwear. You glared daggers at Minho as the lady kindly pointed out you were free to go. You had never felt more mortified in your entire life. 

"I'll see you tomorrow, doll," he said with a wink.

You were already beginning to regret this.

The next day, it was as if you had woken up in a parallel universe. Most things were the same - you still had to go to school, still had to eat bland rice at the cafeteria, still had to do your best to participate in classes. But there was one major difference that didn't go unnoticed. Minho did not say one mean thing to Hyunjin, did not do one hostile act. He even went out of his way to wish Hyunjin a "good morning" and bring him coffee (?!?!) which was beyond suspicious.

"What happened yesterday in detention?" Hyunjin asked you during one of the breaks.

Of course, even though Hyun was your best friend in the entire world, you couldn't possibly tell him that the actual reason why Minho was no longer tormenting him. Oh, Hyunjin, btw, I flashed your bully and let him finger me at detention. Fun times. No, that was far too terrible. So, for the first time ever, you lied to Hyunjin.

"I told him that if he ever does something to you again, I'll beat him to a pulp," you said.

"And he listened?"

"I can be quite scary, you know."

"Remind me to never get on your bad side, then," Hyunjin laughed.

"That could never happen, you're the best boy ever," you ruffled his hair.

"Well, thanks for always sticking up for me, Y/N. I couldn't imagine surviving high school without you."

"Right back at you, Hyun. You made this hellhole seem like paradise."

"I can't believe we're graduating in a couple of months. Gotta admit, I'm gonna miss some of it."

"How so? I'd imagine you of all people should hate high school the most."

"Well, there's you. We'll probably go to different colleges and I'll miss the part where I get to see you everyday, sit next to you, hold your hand under the table," Hyunjin admitted and you were having a hard time breathing. 

He was your best friend and yet, a part of you had always wondered...what if?

"Hyun...even if we go to different colleges, we'd still stay in touch. I'll call you everyday, we'd send each other pictures and meet up whenever our schedules allow it. I promise you, nothing will stand in the way of our friendship."

Little did you consider the fact that you had already done the one thing that could be detrimental to your friendship with Hyunjin...

"I just have the feeling I've wasted my time," he chuckled sadly. "Didn't get to do the things I wanted."

"There's still a few months till graduation. You can still do whatever you wish," you encouraged him. "I'll even help you. Come on, what's on your high school to-do list?"

Hyunjin shook his head.

"Forget I mentioned it."

"Is it a secret?" you asked curiously. You were a mess. You had accused Mr. Park of being a hypocrite and yet, you were even worse. Despite keeping a very terrible secret from Hyunjin yourself, you were immediately eager to discover Hyunjin's secret. You wished you could take your words back.

"Just drop it, Y/N, please."

You nodded quietly and in the blink of an eye, the classes for the day were soon over. You headed towards the detention room and were surprised to realize some depraved part of you was looking forward to being in the same room as Minho again. Why were you like this? However, this time the annoying Mr. Park didn't have any business and spent the two hours observing you and Minho as you had no choice but to diligently do your homework and avoid one another's stare. The third day of detention went in the same way. You were shocked that Minho continued to be nice to Hyunjin and there were no signs of his bully persona, despite the fact that you two hadn't been...intimate since that very first time. Just as you were thinking about that while walking through the school corridors, you felt a strong arm pulling you inside one of the supply closets. You tried to scream in shock, but before you could, you sensed a hand being pressed against your mouth.

"Shh, it's me," Minho whispered in the dark.

"God, Minho, you scared the shit out of me," you gasped.

"Am I that frightening?" he sighed sadly. "And here, I thought I was doing a very good job at this whole nice guy thing."

"You were doing great, actually," you insisted. "Too great. Hyunjin was suspicious but I told him I threatened you with more punches."

"Aw, sweetheart, you really think you can frighten me?" Minho chuckled sarcastically.

"Doesn't matter what I think. What matters is that Hyunjin bought it. Speaking of him, he can never know about our little agreement or I'm seriously going to kill you."

"Relax, babe, I have no intention of telling him. Besides, I like the thrill of doing something forbidden and having leverage against you."

You were too surprised to find out his words didn't terrify you but excited you. There must have been something fundamentally wrong with you...

"Enough chit-chat," you groaned. "I suppose you're here because you want to be rewarded for being so nice lately?"

"No wonder you're considered to be the star student in our school. That is exactly why I pulled you in here."

"What exactly do you want me to do?"

"Do you want me to spell it out for you? I bet you're smarter than that," Minho tsked in fake annoyance. 

And indeed, you had a vague idea of what he expected. So you snaked a hand down his pants and attempted very hard to pleasure him to the best of your abilities.

"Too slow," he complained a couple of moments later.

"I'm trying, okay?" you cried out and began speeding up your movements.

"Don't tell me you've never..."

"Ugh, you're so annoying," you groaned and squeezed him a little too strongly.

He hissed and you were just about to apologize for accidentally hurting him, when he said something shocking:

"Do that again."

"Huh? Didn't it hurt?"

"Exactly the point," Minho insisted. "Oh, and keep telling me mean things."

Did he seriously enjoy that? Who would have thought that the biggest bully in your school secretly liked being degraded by none other than the biggest nerd around here? Well, if it meant no more suffering for Hyunjin, you might as well do as Minho liked...Gripping him tighter and moving your hand faster, you continued to say whatever you'd previously thought about him but had never gotten the chance to say out loud:

"You're such an ass and you think you're so cool and popular but actually you're fucking obnoxious and pathetic. You know, you're lucky I agreed to even touch you. I bet no other girl would ever want to be near you."

At one point, he came in your hand and you had never felt more powerful and conscience-stricken before in your life.

"I didn't mean any of it, Minho, you have to believe me," you mumbled awkwardly. "Well, I used to think like that but...not anymore. If anything, I'm lucky you suggested this thing in the first place."

"Chill, I asked you to be mean to me, didn't I?" he laughed casually.

"Well, yeah, but still. I hope I didn't offend you," you explained. In reality, you were hopeful you could keep this thing going at least until graduation so that Hyunjin would have a peaceful last year of high school. After that, neither of you would have to see Minho ever again.

"Are you seriously considerate of my feelings right now? I don't give a shit what you think about me, as long as you do as I fucking like. Are we clear?"

There he was. Back to his usual shitty self. Just when you'd thought there was a hint of kindness to him, he proved you wrong. Perfect.

"All clear," you replied, wiped your hand on the inside of his shirt. "See you at detention." And with that, you walked out of the supply closet.

Detention was particularly uneventful. Once again, Mr. Park didn't leave you and Minho alone so you didn't really have the opportunity to talk to him. However, you had the feeling he seemed...upset? Okay, you had to stop trying to deduce his moods or try to change him for the better. At one point, Mr. Park went to the bathroom so you had about three minutes alone with Minho. Just as you were wondering whether to say anything or not, Minho beat you to it:

"I'm sorry for earlier if I seemed a little...off," he spoke sincerely. "I've been worried about my grades and whether they will be enough for college and I took it out on you."

"Lee Minho, worrying about college? Unbelievable," you scoffed and then, realizing how insensitive you sounded, were quick to correct yourself. "Sorry. That was a dick move on my behalf."

"No, you have a point," he shrugged. "I know what everyone thinks about me but I don't give a fuck. But I do care what you think."

"You do?" you were beyond surprised.

Minho nodded and opened his mouth to explain further but alas, Mr. Park returned just then. You couldn't resist the urge to roll your eyes. A couple of minutes later, Minho somehow managed to slide a note under the table and into your hand. And that all miraculously went unnoticed by the dreadful teacher. The insides of the note made you smile.

I need to talk to you but not here. If I were to hypothetically drive to your place in the middle of the night, would you hypothetically come out to see me? P.S. I want to kill Mr. Park, that fucking cockblock of a hypocrite :)

You quickly scribbled your response:

I also wanted us to finish our conversation. I would hypothetically climb out of my window to see you. P.S. I know, right? Fun date idea: kill Mr. Park ^_^

You heard Minho chuckling lightly and continuing to write another note.

We're doing it. Tonight. Hypothetically, of course. P.S. Murder and chill ;) Actual goals, huh?

You had to press a hand against your own mouth to stop yourself from releasing most unwholesome cackling sounds upon reading Minho's joke. He was unbelievably funny and it had taken you quite some time to realize it.

You couldn’t fall asleep, anxiously anticipating Minho’s message. It was already 11:30pm but you couldn’t possibly afford to close your eyes. Even though he had said hypothetically, you were fairly certain he would make good on his promise. And besides, if you fell asleep and missed his text, you would risk angering him. And you really didn't want that to happen. It was better to just stay awake.

Finally, at 11:45pm, your phone buzzed. You excitedly opened his message.

I parked around a hundred metres down the street, just in case your parents are awake. Are you coming?

Your response: 

I'm on my way!!!

You had already put on a cute outfit and you internally cursed yourself for being so eager to please him. Whatever, it was too late to change clothes again. You climbed out of your window, as your room was only on the second floor, and bravely jumped out of it, unfortunately landing right into the thorny bush of roses in your mother's garden. Your knees got slightly scraped but you continued running impatiently down the street, until finally you made it to Minho's car.

"Fucking hell, Y/N, did you fight dragons to get here?" he exclaimed upon seeing your injured knees and pulled out the first aid kit from the glove compartment of his car. 

Soon enough, he was putting bandaids on your legs. Touched by his tenderness, you couldn't help but let out a surprised yelp when he went as far as kissing the sensitive skin on your knees. Who was this man and what had he done to the former bully?

"Um, thanks," you mumbled nervously. "You said you wanted to talk to me. So...shall we talk?"

"You get into my car looking like a snack and you think we'll talk?" Minho chuckled darkly. You blushed and started playing with your hands. You were feeling uncharacteristically proud that he'd noticed your outfit. "Okay, let's talk."

You blinked at him, amazed that he was truly a man of his word.

"Back then, you said you cared what I think about you," you spoke softly. "Why?"

"Why? Don't you know the reason I've been tormenting Hyunjin for so long?"

"Um, you were bored or something?" you suggested dumbly.

"Oh, darling, you had no idea, did you?" Minho shook his head.

"So, tell me," you begged.

"Because I was jealous. That he got to spend every second of his time around you. He's so lucky you're his best friend and he doesn't even realize it. The only way to receive even a fraction of your attention was if I was mean to Hyunjin."

"Or you could have just talked to me," you sighed.

"And risk getting rejected?"

"Minho, if I knew you felt this way and if you hadn't bullied Hyunjin, I wouldn't have rejected you. We're not in the first grade."

"Well, I suppose my first-grade tactic worked. You're here now."

"I'm here because you coerced me into this," you explained, even though it was a lie. At first, maybe that was part of it. But now? You were genuinely interested in Minho and wanted to get to know him better. What kind of a person that made you, you weren't sure you wanted to admit. Not to him and certainly not to yourself. "But it doesn't have to be this way in the future. You could...change."

You were so intent on making him a better person that you didn't realize the one who needed changing the most was you.

"You really believe that?"

"I do."

Minho kissed you gently and you found yourself kissing him back out of your own free will. Soon enough, you climbed into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. You could feel him hardening between your legs and honestly, it was kind of an ego boost. Lee Minho was here, completely at your mercy, and he wanted you. Not one of the cheerleaders or whatever it was stereotypical bullies were usually into. No. He was interested in plain old you. As you tugged on his soft hair with your fingers, you couldn't help but be amazed by the light moan that came out of his beautiful lips.

"Can we...try something different?" he asked.

"Anything," you promised without thinking.

"Could you tell me...nice things this time? Please?" Minho begged.

"Babe," you cooed gently. "Of course, I can. You've been doing so good for me. My pretty Minho."

He beamed upon hearing you say that and began saying lovely words himself:

"You got dressed up all for me? My gorgeous angel, I'm so happy you came."

"I told you I would, didn't I?"

"I was afraid you wouldn't," Minho confessed. "I mean, at school it's quite easy to make you do as I please but...I thought you'd stand me up."

"Nooo, Minho..." you pouted. "Though, I was a bit worried you wouldn't come."

"Did you wait for me long, doll?"

"It doesn't matter," you avoided his dark gaze.

"Tell me," he insisted.

"I was checking my phone all the time," you admitted.

"I'm sorry, babe," Minho replied honestly. And you believed him.

Things between you and Minho were getting more and more serious. He was nicer than ever, both towards you and Hyunjin. And your feelings of hatred were now but a distant memory. However, as Minho was becoming a better person, you also noticed a change in Hyunjin. When he used to get bullied, he was less talkative and withdrawn from other students. Yet, the second Minho stopped tormenting Hyunjin, it was like a switch flipped inside your best friend. And suddenly, he was the most extroverted guy around here. Not just that, he grew more confident and you were even inclined to say, he became popular. It was only a matter of time, you thought. Hyunjin was devastatingly handsome, extremely talented, unbelievably funny, ridiculously tall and sickeningly sweet. But you had been so used to having him to yourself that when you spotted him talking to other people, a part of you felt somewhat...jealous. You tried to suppress these feelings, reminding yourself that Hyunjin deserved to be happy, deserved to have friends other than you. Despite that, you couldn't control yourself from feeling a bit left out. Especially when you observed the increasing number of the pretty girls surrounding him. You knew that you had no right to feel this way, considering you had a thing going on with Minho - Hyunjin's former bully, of all people. And yet...

"My detention days are over," you notified him during one of your breaks. "Want to do something fun after classes?"

"Like what?" Hyunjin teased. "Your idea of fun is doing homework together."

You pouted, a bit offended.

"Hey, I can do fun! Just tell me what you feel like doing and I'm game."

"Sunshine, you don't need to do stuff you're not comfortable with for my sake," he flicked your forehead playfully. "Just come over after classes, we can make popcorn and watch a movie together or something."

"Really?" you grinned hopefully. "If you want to go clubbing, I'm totally in."

"Clubbing? Who gave you the impression I wanted that?"

"I overheard you talking to Yeji earlier and it got me thinking I'm your least entertaining friend."

"That's nonsense. You're my best friend. No one can top that."

You smiled fondly.

"So, movie date at my place?" Hyunjin asked just to make sure. And despite the fact this was not the first time he'd referred to your little hang-outs as "dates", your heart still did a backflip. You had hoped that your feelings for Hyunjin would go away now that you were...whatever it was you were to Minho. But alas, every encounter with Hyunjin left you yearning for more.

"You got it."

After classes, you and Hyunjin went to his house. The familiarity of it made you feel so safe and welcome. Everything about his home was so warm. As the two of you made popcorn together and then proceeded to watch a movie, you found yourself wondering what it would be like to kiss him. Hyunjin was your forever what if. Everything inside of you was struggling to contain these emotions below the surface but instead of fading away, they were only becoming stronger. At one point, Hyunjin paused the movie and excused himself to the bathroom. You nodded absent-mindedly and looked around. You knew his room like the back of your hand. You had seen it a hundred times. His bed, his laptop, his door, his posters. Everything. Except the black notebook currently on his desk. That, you had never seen before. What could it be? A diary? Or something else? Curiosity killed the cat and you quickly opened it before he was back from the toilet. Despite knowing how wrong it was. Despite knowing that in doing so, you'd break his trust. Despite knowing you had a secret of your own, far too terrible to ever reveal. It was a sketchbook. The first couple of pages were filled with beautiful flowers and mountains. You smiled upon witnessing Hyunjin's artistic tendencies. Then, suddenly your eyes spotted something that was neither a flower, nor a mountain. It was...you. One, two, three, you began flipping through the pages, there were more paintings of you than you could possibly count.

"What are you doing?" Hyunjin asked angrily. You'd never seen him angry. You flinched despite yourself and closed his sketchbook, embarrassed at having been caught red-handed. "Why did you touch my stuff?"

"Sorry, I just...You...you're really talented, Hyun, you should try applying for art college."

He shook his head and snatched the black notebook from your hands.

"No one was supposed to see this. Least of all, you," he scoffed.

"Listen, I know snooping around was wrong of me but I seriously don't see why you're so upset. I'm your best friend, you can show me anything. And I meant what I said about your talent-"

"Are you seriously so fucking blind you don't get why I'm angry?" Hyunjin hissed.

You looked down in shame.

"I...shouldn't have invaded your privacy, I get that now," you apologized quietly.

"No, you don't get it," he sighed exasperatedly.

"Then, explain it to me," you pleaded with him. "So that I can do better."

"I'm angry because I like you in a way a best friend shouldn't. These paintings were for my eyes only, you were never supposed to see them. I've been trying to hide my feelings for so long. Because I couldn't risk...I couldn't risk my crush on you ruining our friendship."

"Hyun-"

"No, don't say anything," he interrupted you. "It's better if you just go right now, forget I said any of that and pretend it didn't happen tomorrow. I can't bear to hear you reject me."

"You have to hear me out, please," you insisted and even though Hyunjin was refusing to meet your gaze, you placed your hands on his cheeks and continued to speak. "I'm not going to reject you," you said, surprising both him and yourself. 

Because despite your agreement with Minho, your crush on Hyunjin hadn't magically disappeared. In fact, it only grew stronger. And now that you knew Hyunjin liked you back...it was too good of a chance to miss. 

"I've liked you since forever. In a non-best friend way. And I didn't tell you for the exact same reason you also kept it a secret. I was afraid of doing something that would mess up our friendship. But I'm not afraid anymore."

And then, you kissed Hyunjin. Your best friend, your crush, your forever what if turned real. He kissed you just as fervently and wrapped his arms around your lower back tightly. As you melted into his arms, you thought if this didn't ruin your friendship, nothing could. But even a fool knew better than that.

To be continued...

[collecting-stories]

Saving Grace - JJ Maybank

A/N: A You Are Ok drabble set ten years in the future 

You Are Ok Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

The Maybank house had sat empty on the cut for almost five years until JJ’s dad was released from prison. You and JJ had been down in Florida at the time, moved out of his cousin’s trailer and living in an apartment in the everglades. Talking about going home but unsure what the OBX had to offer at that point. It was barely two weeks after that when you both flew home, Luke Maybank had overdosed and the house was empty once again.  

It stayed empty while the two of you gutted the entire place and refurbished it. While JJ and you stayed at the Chateau or Kiara’s place, while you found a job and found out you were pregnant, while JJ got a job for himself in the area and went back down to the everglades to empty out the apartment.  

JJ laid the tile in the bathroom himself and fixed the plumbing. You painted the inside and outside of the house, planted a garden, bought a chicken coop. You and JJ moved in to the house and just like that you were back in the OBX.  

-

You sat outside on the porch, drinking a cup of coffee despite the hour nearing eight o’clock at night. The baby monitor was sitting beside you, a soft gurgling coming from the receiver. You were waiting for the familiar sight of JJ’s truck pulling down the long driveway in the dusk. The headlights were already on, flashing on you for a moment as he parked and then cut off, the engine dying.  

“Hey, what’re you doing out here?” He asked, climbing out of the front seat of the car and bringing a bag of chinese food with him.  

“Waiting for you to bring me egg rolls?” You joke, before turning serious, “I saw my dad this morning, at the grocery store.”

“Did he see you?”  

“Yeah...it was, really weird?” You suggested, reaching for the bag. JJ shook his head and held the bag away from you, a silent ‘I’ve got it’ as he leaned in and gave you a kiss. You wrinkled your nose at the familiar smell of fish as you pulled away, “how was work?”

“Alright...” he shrugged, “what did your dad say?”  

“That he wants me to come to church on Sunday.” You replied, following him inside.  

“You wanna go?” It was a question but the way he asked you knew that he already knew the answer.

“I mean...I’m not gonna like, start going to church with them every week and ya know, go back to how I was but...it might be nice. I do miss my family and, I want to have boundaries but maybe they don’t have to be like, huge ten-year silence boundaries where we never speak. I do want Willow to know her cousins; I think. What do you wanna do?” You asked, passing plates across the counter to him.  

A tinny half cry sounded from the monitor on the table and you both turned to look over at it, waiting for a crescendo of cries that you’d grown used to in the last four months. When silence settled back in, you both seemed to exhale in relief. You wanted to eat and finish this conversation before JJ ultimately showered and fell asleep until Willow’s usual one a.m. wake up.  

“Whatever you want.” He replied, never submitting to making the decision for you when you wanted him to. “Not exactly like your family’s a big of me.”

“Can’t imagine why,” you bumped his hip with your own, kissing his cheek. “Not like you totally corrupted their youngest daughter or anything.”

“Oh no, do not blame that on me.”

“I didn’t run away to marry myself.”

“If you go...” JJ posed, turning to follow you to the table, “do you want to go alone?”

-

You stood frozen in place, holding a box of cereal in your hand as you stared across the small expanse of Heyward’s shop, your dad there by the fresh produce, comparing two different apples with each other. The Outer Banks was a small island but you ran in very different circles and, in the three years that you’d been home, had avoided seeing your parents. Or anyone in your family.  

You’d driven passed the baptist church, a sign boasting a new assistant pastor, one of your brothers, when you’d first moved back but hadn’t actually seen anyone. The possibility of seeing them again had been a long debate between you and JJ when you’d finally decided to leave Florida for North Carolina. It had been hard in the very beginning, missing birthdays and anniversaries and new babies, but over time the ache had dulled and you had shifted your attention away from what you were missing and focused on working through the things you could heal in yourself.  

Now you were frozen. If you left your basket of groceries now you could make a beeline for the door and be out before he saw you. But then the bell above the door rattled as a customer came in and the baby swaddled against your chest started to fuss. Before you could attempt to placate her, your dad was looking over. For a moment you were certain he didn’t recognize you. Ten years was a long time. But then his mouth quirked into a frown and he set down the apples he was holding.  

“Ace?” He questioned, the old nickname feeling foreign to you. It’d probably been ten years since anyone called you that.  

“Hey, dad.” You nodded your head at him across the small store. You felt like tacking on a ‘surprise’ for good measure. ‘Surprise, I’m in the OBX, surprise, I got a kid...’

“When did you uh, when did you come home?” He moved across the store to be near you though he refrained from reaching out for a hug. You wondered if a decade had been just as hard on him as it had on you. Cathartic and healthy and freeing but hard. He seemed more mellow, you thought that before he might’ve pulled out a bible and started admonishing you.  

“JJ and I moved back three years ago,” you admitted, slipping his name into the conversation as if to prove a point. “He got a job on a fishing rig.”  

“Will you...would you come to church? We could have lunch afterward. Or you could just be there?” He offered. Ten years hadn’t changed his beliefs at all but it had made him miss you. Not knowing where you were or what you were doing felt like an ache in his chest that never went away. The anger had subsided to sadness and guilt.  

-

Seeing your dad had been startling enough and you had almost wished, while you were standing there in Heyward’s, that JJ could’ve been with you. Though, you weren’t entirely sure that would’ve helped anything in the long run.

“I think my mom would probably be nicer to me if I brought Wills but maybe, I mean, my dad already saw her. He didn’t ask about her but maybe...” you groaned, burying your face in your hands for a moment as you tried to gather your thoughts. “Why didn’t we stay in Florida?”

“Cause we both spent seven years talking about how much we wanted to come back to the OBX...and my dad-”

“Jay.”

“Look. My dad was an asshole okay, he was a fucking nightmare but you know better than anyone that not getting to see him at the end...that was the worst call I’ve ever gotten in my life. Knowing Ricky was the only one up here and that he was alone. You should do whatever you want to do and I’ll be there, right next to you, just like I’ve been for ten years, but I don’t want you to have any regrets.” JJ replied, honestly.  

You nodded, looking down at the plate of food and pushing your fried rice around. You knew that JJ was still hurting, that gutting a house didn’t take away all the memories that were trapped inside. “God I hate when you’re right.” You sighed.  

“Don’t let your dad hear you talk like that.” He teased just as the monitor went off again, this time for real. You leaned against the back of the chair and groaned as JJ stood up. “I got it.”

“No, it’s okay, I’ll get her.” You stood too. “You need a shower, and sleep.”  

“I haven’t seen her all day,” JJ pointed out, following you down the short hallway to the bedroom that used to be his. It was painted in yellows and oranges now, with a crib and a rocking chair and baby books. A sunset mural painted on the wall from Kiara’s girlfriend and a chandelier of stars from Sarah.  

“What are you gonna do, take her in the shower with you?” You joked, lifting the fussing baby up out of her crib, “hey bubba, what’s the matter?”

“You have to feed her right? So feed her in the bathroom.”

“Oh sure, Jay, that’s super comfortable for me. I would love to feed her while I sit on the toilet.” You grumbled, already knowing that you would probably, definitely end up caving to him and doing exactly that.  

“I’ll put dinner away and do the dishes.” He promised, “and I’ll punch you’ll dad if he says anything to piss you off.”

[realcube]

ARCADE

summary ★ she needs to get the action figure that's in the claw machine for her sister’s birthday, so saiki does her the favour of using his a telekinesis to win it...along with a few other favours.

trigger warning ★ gambling, god, swearing, fem!reader & reader has a younger sister

construction on the new arcade near pk academy had finally come to an end. the grand opening was today after school so of course, nendou suggested that they attend as a squad. usually, saiki tried to avoid getting roped into outings like this but for a change, he actually agreed without the need for any further prying. that's because the arcade was attached to a small cinema where they'd be premiering the latest action movie — based on the TV show adaptation of the game — 'Olfana's Story X-2'. as it turns out, a few months after saiki gave the game a shot, it became a craze and a massive hit among speed-runners. so from it's new-found popularity, they developed a TV show series which inevitably flopped so now they have created a movie. only the most elite people among the gaming community were allow to see it before the official release date and they all said it was incredible; but there was not a doubt in saiki's mind that they were being paid to sing it's praise. a crappy game turned into a crappy show, now adapted into a movie was sure to be crappy. so you may be wondering why he even wanted to view the movie if he was set on it being awful. Well, there are two simple answers; curiosity and the mystery. since it was so exclusive, he had yet to overhear spoilers through his telekinesis and he now had a germanium ring in his possession so he could watch the movie in peace. also, having played the game but not seen the show, he was curious to see how bad the movie is going to be and perhaps he'd be able to get a good laugh out of it. but he made the mistake of mentioning his plan to see the movie which screened a few hours after the opening of the arcade, as now kuboyasu, nendou and kaidou were all going to see the movie along with him. In theory, it shouldn't be a problem since he'll have his germanium ring on but in practise, the world seems to be against saiki so one of his friends will probably end up stealing his popcorn or chatting throughout the entire movie. he'll just have to wait and see. kaidou and nendou did not even stop to take breaths as they raced on about how excited they were while they were all walking to the arcade. "i'm sure the movie is going to be sick!" kaidou exclaimed, followed by rapid head nods from nendou as he replied, "yup! And i can't wait to see what sort of games they have!" saiki was a bit excited himself but he didn't care to show it like the others did. but when he saw the vaporwave building covered with bright neon lights come into view, his lips curled into a small smile. though it was short-lived as he noticed the massive queue to get in; it appeared as though they weren't the only ones who had the idea to visit the arcade after school as he noticed many familiar faces standing in line, amongst crowds of others. all of their cheery auras dissipated for a few moments until kuboyasu perked up, approaching the doors to the arcade with a smug smirk, cutting in front of everyone in the line and gesturing for the boys to follow him, "don't worry about the queue, guys. follow me." nendou followed without any further questions but saiki and kaidou were a bit apprehensive. all three of them watched as kuboyasu stood shoulder-to-shoulder with the guard by one of the doors, muttering something in the man's ear, causing him to sweatdrop and hesitantly open the door with a shaky smile; allowing all four of them inside. "woah, that was awesome, aren!" kaidou yelled, not only out of awe but so he could be heard over all the cheering, laughing and game noises from inside the arcade. "yeah, that was so cool! but what did you say to that guy? he looked freaked out!" nendou inquired, surprising saiki with his actually intelligent observation. kuboyasu's hand found it's way behind his neck, rubbing it awkwardly as he chuckled, "oh, nothing! it's not important-- hey! how about you guys start playing your games and i'll go get the tickets we reserved, yeah?" "yeah!" kaidou and nendou cheered in unison, high-fiving the purple-haired boy before the all ran off in different directions, leaving saiki standing alone at the entrance. he fidgeted with his germanium ring, contemplating taking it off as he stared at kuboyasu; he really wanted to know what the teen boy could've said that'd incite such fear into a grown man, but he decided against it — merrily making his way towards the claw machines, leaving kuboyasu's secrets alone. ★★★★★★★★★★ "shit." he cursed under his breath as he watched the cyborg cider man plushie that he's been trying to win — for yuuta — for half an hour straight slip out of his grasp once again. 'these things are rigged. and what's the point in having psychic superpowers if i can't use them.' he thought to himself but had to quickly shake off the idea, as there was no way he could risk using his powers in such a crowded place, especially for a plush that wasn't even for himself but rather for an annoying kid. he sighed, slipping another coin into the slot and about to find the right state of mind until he heard a loud "fuck!"  from in front of him. his head jerked up, scanning the area for the source of the noise until his eyes landed on you. the claw machines were lined up, back-to-back, and playing on the machine diagonal from him was a girl with enchanting (e/c) eyes which contrasted greatly with her disheartened expression as she stared at the box. the only emotion she wore was sadness as she stared at the machine, so out of curiosity, saiki slipped off his ring in order to read her thoughts; feeling no guilt in listening to the affairs of a complete stranger. 'c'mon, stupid claw machine, i need this!' your silky yet whiny voice rung through his mind, 'what's she gonna think about me tomorrow when i tell her that i couldn't get her the gift she's wanted? she's gonna hate me- even more than she already does. and now i've spent all my money on this silly game so i can't even try get her a crappy gift with the little money i had. Wow, (y/n), you're the worst big sister in existence.' saiki cocked his head to the side, peering through the glass of the machines to see the contents of the claw machine you were standing in front of and when he saw the limited edition, silver cyborg cider man action figure sitting on a pedestal — almost as if it was taunting the poor girl — he finally connected the dots. your hand dug through your pockets until you found the smooth metal surface of your final coin, 'just once more try. if i win her this action figure, maybe she'll finally respect me as her big sister! and this toy will surely make her more happy than any gift mom could've possibly thought of. i'll make her sixth birthday one to remember!' the dejected look on your face slow lifted into a determined one, but it wasn't very convincing as saiki — and anyone else — could see the worry and shame in your eyes as you dropped your last coin into the slot of the machine, giving you one more chance to redeem yourself and claim the title of 'best big sister in the world'. saiki watched you maneuver the claw of the machine with bated breath, admiring how your pretty nose crinkled and your tongue poked out from the corners of your perfectly glossed lips in concentration — 'ew, stop being a simp, kusuo.' he mentally rebuked himself before engaging with your scene one again. your fist slammed down against the big red button, followed by the claw opening and lowering over the box of the cyborg cider man action figure, slowly closing it's jaws around the box and grasping it perfectly, resulting in a slight gasp to escape your throat as your lips pulled into a grin. the claw kept it's grip in the toy as it lifted up, slowly making it's way over the hole where it would drop the action figure, straight into your possession.  that is, if the grip didn't falter hence allowing the toy to fall down, off it's pedestal and onto the bottom of the compartment to join the rest of the more average action figures. "fuck!" you screamed in an almost identical way to which you did earlier, expect this one held more pain. 'this can't be happening; is this the third year in a row that i'm going to show up to my little sister's birthday party empty-handed?' you thought, your bottom lips quivering so you quickly bit down on it, staring at the damned toy before turning on your heels, shuffling away from the game with your head hung low, the thoughts which cried in your head about how much you budgeted and how hard you worked made saiki's heart sink. 'maybe i could take out a mortga--' your thoughts were abruptly cut off when you heard the noise of something falling behind you. whipping your head around to see what happened, you exhaled a sigh of relief upon seeing nothing out of the ordinary. however, you caught a glimpse of inside the machine which you had been cursing at and realised that the toy wasn't with the packaging peanuts where you left it, as if it magically disappeared in the few seconds you had averted your gaze. creeping up to it, your gaze darted around in search of anyone who might've won it in less than 5 seconds but that was unlikely. now that you were closer, you peered through the glass once more to confirm that the toy was in fact missing and you were right. recalling the noise of falling you heard just before you turned around, you dropped to your knees and lifted the flap to the compartment which held the good that people would win from the machine. you almost screamed with delight and shock when you laid eyes on the limited edition, cyborg cider man action figure that was tucked snugly inside. yanking it out, you pressed it to your chest and the tears you were choking back finally came running down your cheeks, but now they were from joy. "thank you, god." you whispered to yourself, making saiki chuckle from his spot at the claw machine which he hadn't moved from. he wasn't god — nor was he friends with god — but he didn't mind not being able to take the credit for his kind actions of using his psychokinesis to drop the box into the hole for you. honestly, he found that seeing you happy, sitting on the floor with brightest beam gracing your features along with your now cheerful thoughts in his head, was enough of a reward for him anyway. also, he appreciated how you didn't question how the box ended up in the hole and instead you just deemed it a miracle as you were too overjoyed to use logic; that sort of thinking saved saiki a lot of trouble. 'i should probably go home and wrap this.' your internal monologue had now calmed down slightly as you were now able to produce a thought that wasn't just a squeal of delight, 'hm, maybe once i am done i could come back and see the new movie that's premiering-- but i've not got much money left so i guess i shouldn't get ahead of myself.' you hummed, picking up the box along with yourself, dusting yourself off before heading towards the exit. saiki must've been staring for a tad too long though as you caught his gaze while brushing off your clothes. he cringed, instinctively darting his eyes away so you didn't think he was an ogling creep but the fact he appeared defensive probably didn't help. so he fully expected you to frown or cast him a dirty look, judging him for his actions but to his surprise, you simply chuckled. waving at the pink-haired boy before strolling off with the box under your arm. 'he seems cool. where i can get clips like those?' why were you thoughts making him blush like an idiot? time to put the germanium ring back on. ★★★★★★★★★★ as it turns out, nendou is surprisingly good at poker. he figured this out after he stumbled across the casino section of the arcade, and since he looks way older than seventeen, nobody questions it when he took a seat at one of the slot machines, under the impression that it was a fancy, old-timey arcade game. he was then offered a round of poker with some old dude with way too many gold teeth and nendou ended up taking the poor, stubborn guy's entire fortune. god-knows how many games with how-many people later, nendou was sitting on stacks of cash at a round table with a tired dealer, and two grown men — one crying into the shoulder of his arm-candy and the other weeping into the sleeve of his suit — while the three boys who had came to give him his ticket stood by, all wearing matching confused expressions. "uh, nendou." kuboyasu tapped his friend on the shoulder, waving the ticket in front of his face, "the movie is gonna start soon, we should start heading over there right now so we can buy snacks and get good seats." nendou raised an eyebrow, puzzled until he recalled that he was supposed to watch a movie today, "oh, that sounds cool and all but i'm having a lot of fun right here." he smiled, motioning to the large casino area. kuboyasu chuckled awkwardly, backing away from nendou slightly as he turned on his heels, ushering the two other boys away, "alright, well, have fun, nendou! don't stay out too late!" nendou sung an okay in response, sliding a kaidou some cash for the extortionate theatre snacks before he was rushed away by kuboyasu, the purple-haried boy not wanting to spend anymore time in the casino than needed. "if nendou isn't joining us for the movie then we have a spare ticket. here, saiki, you should have it!" "why me?" "uh, because you said you saw reita earlier. so if you see him again maybe you could offer him the spare ticket." 'absolutely not.' was vocalised as "sure." by saiki as he took the ticket from kuboyasu's outstretched hand, fiddling with it before stuffing it into his pocket along with his own ticket. "what i said to nendou was kinda an exaggeration" aren mused, glancing at his watch before looking up at his two pals, "we still have some time left before the movie starts. i'm gonna go handle some business — you two have fun, and try find reita!" kuboyasu said before pivoting on his heels in the direction of the staff only closet. the only thing saiki could think to do during this free-time was escape kaidou's pestering to play dance dance revolution — since saiki didn't want to dance, dance or revolute, he darted outside as soon as kuboyasu left, leaving kaidou alone and confused in the middle of the arcade. 'finally, fresh air.' saiki inhaled, filling his lungs with the cool air rather than the stuffy, arcade oxygen. scanning the surrounding area, his eyes caught a glimpse of a figure standing by the ATM, which he immediately recognised to be that of the girl he had helped earlier. so naturally, he flicked of his ring to figure out the reasoning behind the awkward look on her face. 'do i really want to withdraw money to see some stupid movie? i mean, i could leave that money to accumulate and buy something nicer later.' without thinking, saiki hummed in agreement with your thoughts as he had been in your position many times before. 'but then again, i should treat myself! when was the last time i saw a movie that wasn't pirated? hmm..' your indecisive thoughts matched perfectly with your conflicted expression as you stared through furrowed brows at the screen of the ATM. a soft breeze passed, followed by something light smacking against you face. you winced slightly, your hand snapping your cheek and grabbing at whatever it was; just by the texture, you could tell it was paper. holding it in front of you, upon further inspection you realised that the mysterious sheet that had flew into your possession was in fact a ticket to tonight's showing of 'Olfana's Story X-2'  row G, seat 9. you double, triple checked it out of fear that this may be a cruel prank but no, this was completely real! you cheered, bouncing up and down and away from the ATM since you no longer needed it's services as god had blew the desired item straight into your hands — or your face, rather. either way though, you were over the moon, clutching the ticket to your chest and basking in your second miracle of the day. unbeknownst to you, saiki's smile was almost as wide as your own. you thanked god for your relief and saiki had no problem with that; seeing your little happy dance and squeals with your free ticket was enough for him. but actually, perhaps he might benefit himself after all, since the ticket he had given you previous belonged to nendou. meaning that saiki was seated at row G, seat 10; right beside you. ★★★★★★★★★★ saiki forgot to send a few notes flying your way in the wind, so you walked into the theatre and took your seat, completely snackless since you couldn't afford the exorbitant prices that they sold food for at the cinema. but perhaps that wasn't all bad as it revealed the possibility for saiki to offer you some of his popcorn as a conversation-starter, as he's usually not too good at socialising with new people — forget starting a conversation. however, he didn't need to work up any sort of courage to talk to you as the first thing you did when you plopped down in your seat beside him was turn to him and chirp, "oh, you're the guy i saw at the claw machines earlier! i love your clip thingies." your buoyant-adrenaline allowing your to be more bold than usual. the movie had yet to start, low murmurs of chatter coming from across the theatre as the trailers played in the background, "yes. and thanks." 'good grief, curse myself for not being more talkative. she probably thinks i'm dull now. perhaps i should channel my inner nendou..if i have one.' instead of ending the conversation right there like he assumed you would, you continued talking and saiki was..glad? why did he want to interact with you so much? he spends most of his days trying to avoid interacting with people; why were you any different? "no problem- also, did you get what you were playing for?" you inquired, tapping your lip in genuine curiosity. his ring remained on his finger, despite the fact he wanted to know what you thought about him, he didn't want to invade your privacy any more than he already has. "no. did you?" "yeah, i did, actually!" you chirped, not noticing the smirk creeping onto saiki's lips as you were too engulfed in your memories, "i thought those games were rigged but maybe they're not 'cause i managed to win this super special action figure that my sister has been on the top of my sister's wishlist for like- forever! and her birthday is tomorrow so i'll be a--" you cut yourself off, crinkling your nose in embarrassment, "sorry, i'm over-sharing, aren't i?" your enthusiasm made his heart flutter in a way he wasn't used to, if you didn't know any better, he would have thought he was having a medical emergency. his eyes widened slightly as you halted in your speech, "no, you're fine." he said, the uncharacteristic softness in his voice catching the attention of his two pals sitting on the other side of him. you shook off his comment, "i mean, i'm telling you my life story and i don't even know your name." you said, laughing sheepishly at the reality of the reality of the situation. 

“saiki kusuo.” he blurted out without a second thought.

you blinked a few times, shocked that he’d give his details away so easily as you somewhat expected him to be more of a reserved type of guy but evidently, you were wrong. “uh, i’m (l/n) (y/n).” you choked, biting down on your bottom lip slightly before continuing you story as he seemed to wait expectantly, “as i was saying, today’s just been the best day ever! everything has been going so well, i’m a bit scared as to what is going to happen when it hits midnight.” 

saiki nodded along, popping a piece of popcorn into his mouth before remembering his plan, “oh- would you like some?” he asked, offering you some popcorn from his bucket. unfortunately, the plan was a last-minute thing so he had only bought a small, but he still wasn’t opposed to sharing. 

you shook your head, trying to grin foolishly wide at his kind offer, “no thank you.” 

saiki nodded, about to open his mouth to reply until the blaring music from the beginning of the movie started, putting a swift end to your conversation — despite the fact saiki would much rather talk to you than watch the crappy movie — out of theatre etiquette. 

★★★★★★★★★★

it was worse than you or saiki could’ve ever imagined.

it was painfully trying not to burst out laughing right in middle of it or lean over and giggle in each other’s ear at the silly dialog but out of respect for the other people in the cinema, you both stayed silent and just cast each other occasional knowing glances whenever something cringey happened on screen. 

you both let out audible sighs of relief with the credits began to roll, accompanied by a slow indie song. “that was..something.” you mumbled, grabbing your purse and jumping to your feet, wanting to exit the building as soon as possible and hopefully leave your memories of the movie behind you. 

“definitely.” he snickered, absently flicking the side of his empty popcorn bucket, “i stopped paying attention once i finished my popcorn.” it felt weird to vocalise — or rather, telepathically communicate — the comments he’d usually keep to himself; why did he feel so comfortable speaking to someone he only just met?

he began gathering his things, stuffing all of his rubbish in the bucket so he could dispose of it all at once. his mind was fixated on crappiness of the movie and how a five-year-old could’ve shot a much better film, until you grabbed his attention by calling out his name, followed by a question which made him blood run cold.

“before i go, it gotta ask’ how’d you do it? or more importantly, why’d you do it?”

he blinked several times before putting on his best bewildered expression, with the idea that maybe if he played dumb, he could gaslight you into thinking that it never happened or that he had nothing to do with it. “what?”

“oh, don’t give me that!” you scoffed, narrowing your eyes at the boy, “i’m not stupid. every time something good happened to me, you were nearby. i’ve connected the dots so fess up. why did you do all those nice things for me? was it out of pity or are you that nice to everyone?”

“i’m that nice to everyone.”

“i don’t believe you.” you snapped, fixing your tone when you remembered that even though he was lying to you, he still helped you get the present for you sister and gave you his spare ticket. “i don’t care if you’re not gonna give me a straight answer, but at least let me make it up to you.”

he huffed, an unimpressed look covering his features before you even proposed your idea. there was really nothing he could possibly need from you. what were you going to give him that he wasn’t capable of obtaining on his own? so he frowned, ready to decline your offer. 

“i saw that you bought one of those jelly pots from the snack stand and i actually work at a little café in the town, so i might be able to get you few things for free or discounted?”

“yes.” wait, that wasn’t refusal. 

“great!” you chirped, glad that you wouldn’t have to pry further, “does later this week sounds good? we could meet up here then i can walk you to the café- or i could give you my number and we can arrange a date later?” 

“sure.” saiki said without thinking once again.

but it wasn’t as though he regretted it when you slipped the piece of paper you had scribbled your number onto, into the front pocket of his shirt, tapping it with a smile. “alright! i’ll see you later then- unless you want to walk home with me?” you fidgeted with your fingers slightly, instantly regretting what you just came out with. not because you didn’t want to walk with him, but due to the fact you highly doubted he was going so say accept so you mentally prepared for the impact of his harsh rejection.

“sure.”

★★★★★★★★★★

BONUS 

saiki ended up walking home with some girl he met at the theatre so that left kuboyasu and kaidou to fetch nendou once the film finished. they both searched the casino area for almost half an hour but neither of them had any luck finding nendou. that was, until kuboyasu had to take a step outside to escape the casino as he noticed an old friend of his playing on the slot machines, and he found nendou crouched by the garbage cans, on his phone. 

“nendou! we’ve been looking all over for you- why are you out here by the trash? and what happened to all your money?!”

nendou chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck with his spare hand, “fun story actually. i was doing so well and i was on my way to becoming a millionaire until these schoolgirls came marching in and absolutely slaughtered me! it was so embarrassing and the only way i could escape them was by running away so i hid back here.”

kuboyasu’s aura just screamed ‘disappointed but not surprised’, “so you’re telling me that you lost millions to highschool girls?”

“they might’ve been middle-schoolers, i’m not too sure. i didn’t get a very good look at ‘em but they were all wearing creepy red uniforms.”

all kuboyasu could do was massage his temples to ease his headache at the stupidity of his friends, “so you lost all your money to school girls in creepy red uniforms?” he repeated aloud, just to make sure he was hearing things correctly.

“yes. but not all my money.” he said, pulling out his wallet and grandly opening it to reveal a few notes and a button, “i’ve still got enough to spend on ramen with my bros!”

[missymurphy1985]

The Medic (Part 2)

Warning - injury / accident / bit of flirtiness

Authors Note - I'm not medically trained in the slightest - forgive me for any inaccuracies!!

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @peakyciills @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @namelesslosers @misscarolineshelby @screemqueen @cilleveryone @peaky-cillian @misselsbells06 @datewithgianni @heidimoreton

You looked round, hoping to see him standing to the side, but no. He must've been under that rubble.. and the rigging...

You shouted for everyone to stay back to reduce the risk of any further collapse and slowly stepped onto the set, checking above you to make sure no more debris was going to drop. Once you were sure it was clear, you slowly edged onto the rubble, stepping where you could see the floor, careful not to dislodge anything.

"Cillian?! Cillian, can you hear me?" You called, hearing no response as your heart skipped a beat. You composed yourself and stood as still as possible, looking through the debris. You spotted his hand, sticking out from between the rigging.

You could just about make out his body, he wasn't moving. You could see his chest rising and falling, but the motion of it massively concerned you.

"Anto, call an ambulance - his breathing isn't right! Someone come help me move this stuff off him, slowly!" You called, not taking your eyes off him. His chest was moving up and down irregularly - all your years in A&E, you recognised a punctured lung when you saw one.

Three of the crew came over and following your strict instructions, they lifted each piece of ceiling off the pile, revealing more of Cillian's body. The movement and noise roused him, you saw his eyes flutter open.

"Cillian, do not move! Stay completely still until I've checked you over, say YES if you understand?"

"Y-yes...." He groaned, clearly in pain. Each item lifted caused him to cry out.

"Do not move..." You warned, making your way to him now a path had been cleared. Anto had brought your bag over and placed it at your side as you moved into Cillian's line of sight.

"An ambulance is on its way - you're fine, okay? I need you to tell me where it hurts."

"Chest... Right side..." He coughed and winced. You knew there was a small piece of rigging resting on his ribs and now you were closer you could see it had clearly broken his lower ribs.

"Breathing?"

"Can't.. get.. air..." He was struggling. Really struggling. You didn't have time to wait for the ambulance, he'd lose too much oxygen. Taking a deep breath, you took out a scalpel and plastic tube, along with bandages, a syringe and antiseptic spray.

"Cillian, I need to reinflate your lung. If I don't do it now, you'll suffocate. Paul, can you hold him still please?" Paul came over and you put his arms across Cillian's upper body.

"The... Fuck?" He gasped, seeing the scalpel in your hand.

"I need to do this. If I don't, you won't be able to breathe in around 2 minutes time... Trust me. I've done thousands of these.." You didn't give him time to argue. You injected a numbing agent into his side, and immediately sliced into the skin. He tried to scream but the sound didn't leave his lips, too breathless to make any noise. He struggled against Paul, and Anto came over to help pin him down. You ignored his whimpers as you inserted the tube, immediately feeling the rush of air escaping it. You inserted a syringe into the top of the tube and slowly pulled to release the air into it, closely monitoring how much came out so as not to pull too much.

Within minutes he took deeper breaths, his skin losing the blue tinge you'd noticed moments after arriving at his side. You removed the syringe but kept the tube in place, bandaging tightly around it. Your fingers moved to the back of his neck as you checked his spine.

"I need you to tell me if you feel any pain, or if you feel nothing. Okay?"

"Okay.."

You fingers moved down his neck, he confirmed he could feel it but no pain. You moved to his legs, the same response. At that moment, paramedics arrived.

You handed over to them, explaining what you'd done, and they took over as you stepped back. Your hands started to shake.

"Drink this..." Kate was next to you suddenly, handing you a cup of sweet tea. She wrapped her arm over you to comfort you as your whole body shook. "You're in shock, drink that. You'll be fine."

"I can't believe I just did that... I've never done one before!"

"I thought you said -"

"I lied, I didn't want to scare him.. I've only seen other doctors do them.. what if I've fucked it up?"

"y/n, he's breathing. You didn't fuck it up, I think you just saved his life! Shit me, y/n, have you seen your leg?" You looked down and saw blood - you must've caught your shin on a stray piece of rigging, a huge gash ran across it. Kate got to work checking it out, confirming you definitely needed stitches and let the paramedics know. They said you could jump in Cillian's ambulance.

Once you'd been stitched up, you asked the nurse about Cillian. She had left around ten minutes ago, promising to find out for you. Instead of the nurse coming back, it was a doctor. A doctor you knew from medical school, he'd been your teacher.

"Dr. Taylor?"

"I knew it was you when the paramedics told me! Y/n, you saved that man's life - he would have suffocated if you hadn't intervened when you did!" The relief flooded through you.

"I was so scared I'd done more damage... Is he going to be okay?"

"He's discharged himself - he just needs monitoring in fairness. Broken rib that will heal in time is the worst of it. He said you were the onset medic - can you take it from here?"

"Yes of course. I'll make sure he heals properly. Do you have any supplies?" He nodded and handed you a bag containing antibiotics, bandages and antiseptic lotions and creams.

"He's waiting outside for you. As soon as he found out you were here he refused to leave until you did." You smiled at his gesture. He must've been dying to get back to his hotel.

Heading into the family room, he was waiting. He looked exhausted, blood on his white shirt. Standing gently, he pulled you into a hug.

"Thank you. For what you did. Wouldn't be standing here with you now if you hadn't."

"Just doing my job."

"Don't be so modest. I owe you.."

"Well you can pay me back by taking this medication, resting for a few days and let me take care of you without giving me another death stare?" You smirked.

"Yeah.. it's not every day someone stabs you in the ribs!"

"All in the name of saving your ass Murphy!"

You got back to the hotel and followed Cillian to his room. He had to pause every so often to catch his breath and wince from the pain of his broken rib, to the point where you eased yourself under his arm and helped him across the hallway.

"Are you sure you should have left the hospital?"

"I hate hospitals, and I kinda hoped you'd take the reins."

"That's what I'm here for. Give me your room key." You took the key from him and opened the door, easing him through gently and sitting him slowly on the sofa.

"When can I get back to work?"

"You'll need a couple of days before your lung inflates back to full capacity, and your rib won't heal fully for weeks yet. I know you're on a tight schedule but I won't clear you for work for three days minimum Cillian." He rolled his eyes on frustration, slowly lying down on the sofa.

"Fuck..."

"I know, I'm sorry.. listen my room is just down the hall. Here's my mobile number. If you need me, just call okay?"

"You're going already?"

"You've taken your meds, all you need to do is rest now. Get some sleep if you can?"

"Fat chance of that, my ribs are on fire. They gave me paracetamol, like that's gonna do anything..."

"You allergic to anything?" He confirmed no, and you promised him you'd be back, quickly running to your room.

"Tramadol," you smiled, handing him one of the pills and a glass of water when you got back. "Only take one - it'll help you sleep. Come on, you need to be in bed."

He took the pill, and once it had kicked in a few minutes later he let you pull him up and lead him to his bed. His feet unsteady underneath him as the drug entered his system, you had to help him undress, chuckling slightly watching him attempt it himself.

"You look like a drunk old man!" You laughed, taking over from him and unbuttoning his trousers. Pushing them to the floor, his crotch in your immediate eyeline, you tried to remain professional - the temptation to look was too much though and you couldn't stop yourself stealing a small glance.

"Like what you see y/n?" He smirked, noticing your eyes widen and your cheeks flush. He wasn't even hard, but the outline was clear as day through his boxers - if he was that big soft, Jesus...

"What? Oh no, I uh..."

"No? Hmm. Might wanna tell your face." You looked away quickly, standing up to unbutton his shirt. Slowly easing it over his bruised shoulder, you couldn't help looking at his toned, hairless chest, the ripped muscles in his arms. You cleared your throat, and involuntarily bit your lip, you could feel your core throbbing and mentally scolded yourself.

"Look at me," he lifted your chin and your eyes met his.

"Once I'm healed, and able to move - I'll make it up to you my own way. Deal?"

"Your own way?" His hand caressed your cheek softly, eyes never leaving yours, as he gently leaned in to kiss you. As much as you tried to fight it, you couldn't, and you returned his kiss. You could tell he wanted to ignite things further, but the tramadol you'd given him was coursing through him, making his legs unsteady. You pulled away, easing him down into bed and pulled the covers over him. Quickly grabbing his mobile phone and putting it on his bedside table, along with the note with your phone number, you noticed he was out cold. You pressed your finger to your lips, a slight jump in your heartbeat at what had just happened, but remembering quickly that he was high as a kite on painkillers and wouldn't remember a thing come morning.

"But I'll remember, and that's enough for me," you thought out loud, smiled and headed out into the lounge area. You called Anto and updated him on what had happened.

"I'm gonna stay until he wakes up - Tramadol can have weird side effects, I'm going to keep my eye on him, if that's okay?" You asked, not wanting to annoy your boss on your first day.

"Y/n please - you're needed there more than here right now. Stay with him until he's healed up, we can film everything else while he's resting. Three days you say?"

"At least. I need to know his lung is back to normal before I can clear him for work again."

"Not a problem. His health comes first. Thank you for taking care of him y/n."

"Anytime. I'll keep you in the loop."

You hung up, and immediately heard him groaning. Knowing what was coming, you grabbed the washing up bowl and ran into his room just in time for him to throw up into it.

"Looks like I'm staying here until the Tramadol wears off at least..."

[deniigi]

my supervisor fucked me over with all my other coworkers present. can I request a one shot from you to cheer me up featuring Sammy?

Did I give y’all the fic about the hotpot?

Well if I didn’t, I’m giving it to you now.

Title: hotpot

Summary: Ganke checks the comments for the Blindspot comic daily and there’s this one asshole anon who keeps talking shit about BT.

--

The Blindspot comic went live in the fall and Ganke couldn’t stop checking the hit count every five seconds. All night there had only been ten hits.

He told himself not to be disappointed. The only person who really mattered had read and loved the comic.

Miles said that BT had even forced everyone on the team to read an abridged version of Journey to the West, and had gone as far as to make a quiz to determine everyone’s character.

Miles refused to disclose who he’d gotten.

BT had clearly rigged the game to make himself Sun Wukong and Ganke was proud of him.

That kind of enthusiasm was exactly what he’d been hoping for, anything else now was just icing on the cake.

Even though it would be cool if it wasn’t just BT reading his own comics.

That would be pretty cool, right? Like. If people online all started reading BT’s comic. That would be sort of amazing.

Kind of excellent.

Definitely worthy of an A+ and double pats on the back.

Right?

The hit counter didn’t think so. But hey, five more people had opened the page since last night. That was something, wasn’t it?

 MM: dude why not just ask Sam to tweet out the link?

 How dare you, Miles Morales.

How dare you waltz into this place with logical thought.

GL: I can’t do that. That’s like. Idk. Inflating the views.

MM: okay yeah explain to me how appealing to the person in control of the largest part of his own fandom is inflating the views

GL: I see your logic and I’m banishing it

MM: I’m messaging him

GL: DON’T

MM: too late

MM: he says ‘gimme link’

GL: asdksjsjdks

--

 @blindspot: hi I know y’all can’t get enough of me to the point of asking shockingly invasive questions and for you I say good news! Some amazing folks have gone through the trouble of making a Blindspot comic. it’s good guys check it out [link]

--

 It helped.

A lot.

It helped a lot.

--

 People, on the whole, had great things to say. The panels were screenshotted and tagged and sent all over social media and even though Miles was pretending to be chill and aloof about the whole thing, Ganke could imagine him smiling big and bright and white at his phone non-stop.

Mom and Auntie saw a few of the bits on Twitter and tittered over them in the kitchen like pigeons.

The pride rose like a wave. Ganke kept waiting for the crash.

--

 It came two days later in the form of a comment that read ‘Christ, look at all this fuss. BT is fine. I hate his brother.’

It felt like someone punching the wind out of Ganke’s lungs.

He took comfort in the handful of people who leapt in to shout down the commenter. They emphasized that if the anonymous commenter didn’t like the story or the characters, then they didn’t have to read it and they, especially, didn’t have to say anything about it.

Ganke appreciated those guys. He got the feeling that a lot of the people on there knew that the whole thing had been done but a couple of kids.

Not that Anon cared.

Anon replied to all these comments ‘No, I’m gonna keep reading, thanks. Anyways, the brother is lame. The smart part is cool, but why’s it always gotta be a guy?’

The part that haunted Ganke even after he’d shut his laptop and had gone to stick his head out the window for some big breaths of cleansing air was that Anon was kind of right.

--

 GL: should we have made Guotin’s brother a sister?

MM: no

GL: why not?

MM: cause BT’s always wanted a brother

 Oh.

Okay. Then it was fine?

 MM: yeah man ignore them. it’s chill.

GL: k thanks my ego is huge and fragile

MM: trust me I know

 Asshole. Fine, moving right along.

--

 It didn’t stop. Anon commented on every page. Every. Single. Page.

Ganke didn’t know what to do or say. On the one hand, clearly this person was dedicated and deeply engaged with the comic, on the other hand, they needed a Rude Alert button. Ganke wondered if Ned could code one for them and them only.

The latest of their fury was directed at the big reveal in the second issue—BT’s face.

Having now met Sam, BT, Blindspot, Ganke’s whole image of him had changed.

He was not conventionally attractive as far as like, K-Pop idols and famous Chinese dudes went. His eyes were puffy and narrow and his face was round everywhere but the jaw. He leaned more towards ‘cute’ than ‘sexy,’ which Ganke sort of loved about him.

He was friendly. Stressed and grumpy and feisty as hell, yeah, but first and foremost friendly.

Miles claimed that he called it his ‘number one asset in employability.’ Which was wild because hello, Blindspot.

Obviously, BT couldn’t help his face. But Miles and Ganke could help Guotin’s.

Ganke had sent Miles about fifteen different images of Chinese celebrities and had told him to do his worst. They’d reviewed the final few drafts and had picked one that was most like a young Chen Kun. His face was more oval-shaped than BT’s. His chin and lips were slimmer but more defined. He was pretty, but not so pretty as to be called ‘feminine,’ which Ganke thought was a solid compromise between ‘handsome as sin’ and ‘looks like he’s got a quirky sense of humor.’

Anon hated him.

Anon thought that he looked like an idol, and they were not here for it.

They told ‘the artist’ to give him a mole or something, anything to make him look ‘less pristine. God, I can smell him from here and he smells like Dior and staph habitat.’

Ganke had to look up what a staph infection was. He regretted it. He asked Miles if they should censor Anon.

Miles said ‘mmmmm, idk it’s not like they aren’t saying anything that isn’t true.’

Ganke resented that. Clearly this was defamation of BT. This person hated him and was taking their feeling out on the comic.

 MM: I mean yeah but it’s not like they’re talking about the comic, man. They’re talking about the style and like, thinking about it, a mole or smth to help you tell him apart from other folks would kind of be helpful. Like, especially if we ever put him in a crowd, you know?

 HHHHHH.

Fine.

Anon could stay. But they were on thin ice.

--

 It was hard not to be bitter about Anon’s comments, especially when they arrived daily, as though Anon knew exactly what they were doing and which page they’d left off at. They couldn’t possibly be reading the comic one page at a time, this was intentional.

Ganke’s jaw hurt from all the tooth grinding he’d endured as of late.

This latest one read ‘yo, has BT ever mentioned fighting with a sword? I don’t recall him mentioning. Someone should take that thing away from him before someone loses an eye—or maybe even two.’

That felt like a pointed jibe.

That turned the churning irritation in Ganke’s gut into something much, much colder.

Did Anon know about BT’s black and blue eyes? How could they know? Was it a coincidence? It seemed to be more than a coincidence.

The pile of critiques was growing bigger and bigger, and now that Ganke thought about it, they all seemed to take issue with things that didn’t match the real Blindspot’s personality.

It was as if they knew him.

 GL: miles did you read the new comment from AnonTheAsshole?

MM: lol yeah

GL: tell me if I’m talking out my ass or whatever but like

GL: you don’t think they could be Muse, could they?

 Silence.

 MM: oh no

 Yeah. Fuck.

 MM: chances are low.

GL: they know so much tho??

MM: might be stalker? Maybe someone who’s over-invested in BT’s social media pages?

GL: maybe.

MM: hold on let me ask Spidey to screen it

GL: does he know Muse?

MM: no, but he’s paranoid and he’ll get Wade to be paranoid with him, and then they can decide whether its worth giving to DD for verification. He knows Muse.

 Ganke’s head was spinning. His fingers shook with guilt and the thought of Muse’s pale body hunched over a secret, cracked cell phone in a high security prison who knew where.

In Ganke’s head, he smiled wider and wider, until the skin on his cheeks cracked. He dug out scraps of paper and redrew Blindspot—Sam—with gaping holes for eyes and a screaming mouth and he drew dismembered corpses in black lakes and he laughed.

He just kept laughing.

 MM: hey ganke

MM: it’s going to be okay. It’s just a comic. I’m sure AnonTheAsshole is a stalker. They’re not threatening anyone.

MM: Sam can deal with a stalker. And we can too, okay?

 There was a reason that Miles was a hero. Ganke wiped at his eyes and swallowed.

 GL: okay. Thanks for doing that.

MM: 👍🏾

--

 It took a few hours because Spidey and Deadpool had lives outside of being Spidey and Deadpool, but not so long that Ganke ran out of nails to chew.

Miles messaged him back and said that Spidey had read through everything and ‘escalated it.’ This meant that whatever he’d seen had caused him enough concern to take it to DP.

Miles said that he’d get back to Ganke with DP’s verdict as soon as he had it. In the meantime, he’d run the comments by the other Spideypeople and they thought that it most likely wasn’t malevolent but was maybe something to keep an eye on in the meantime. He tacked onto all, somewhat stiltedly, that he had a weird feeling all of the sudden. The pink Spidey’s tone had changed. She’d shut down and gone cagey, which allegedly wasn’t like her at all. Then she’d told the taller guy to DM her and they’d vanished from the chat. Miles wasn’t sure what was going on there or if maybe they knew something about stuff going on that he didn’t, but he wasn’t super comfortable with it.

 GL: crossing my fingers its nothing?

MM: same man, same.

--

 DP escalated it.

Ganke couldn’t stay still in his room. There was no comfortable place to sit or stand or lay. There was nothing to do that would make him stop thinking about everything.

 MM: It’s gonna be fine, man, DD always knows what to do.

 Miles kept saying that for every step of the way, and yet here they were. Double escalated. Ganke wasn’t so sure he even knew what was happening anymore.

That was scary. Miles was supposed to be part of the in-crowd.

 MM: Wade doesn’t think it’s anything that can’t be nipped in the bud.

 That was easy for a contract assassin to say, wasn’t it?

 MM: he says that you and I are fine. Doesn’t see any links there. Waiting on DD for confirmation of tone.

 Hurry up, Daredevil. Your apprentice’s life might be about to take a nosedive into a heap of trash.

--

 Two hours. One text.

 MM: >:/

 Ganke couldn’t contain the bubble of laughter.

 GL: good news?

MM: [image]

 He opened it.

 SC: HANNAH YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE. STOP BEING A BITCH ON MAIN

HC: You can’t tell me what to do

SC: I CAN

HC: Mom he’s being MEAN

SC: Mom she’s scaring children online

HC: I scare children everywhere I go why are these ones special???

SC: Because I said so

HC: that doesn’t fucking work Samuel you’re not her

SC: I am your older brother

SC: your ELDEST brother

HC: YOU AINT SHIT

SC: THEY DON’T COUNT

SC: HALFSIES COUNT

 What.

 MM: so.

MM: she’s not Muse.

MM: Red’s laughing his ass off at all of us for taking this to a level three

GL: wait I don’t understand

MM: Hannah is Sam’s little sister. She’s found a new hobby in our website.

 Blindspot’s little sister was reading the comic??? Holy shit.

 GL: she hates him?

MM: no I’ve been informed that they would literally commit murder for each other but this is how they express love.

 No way. Siblings were wild.

 GL: so we’re good?

MM: [image]

  SC: apologize 🔪

HC: eat my ass

SC: apologize or else

HC: or else what? You gonna come in here and sit on me? Huh? Huh????

SC: I know your email password. All 3 you cycle through. What was his name? Uuuuuuuuuh Jing?

HC: you fucking bastard

SC: Hi Jing, it’s me, Hannah. I’ve been in mad crush with you since sophomore year. Please notice me senpai 😖

HC: Die

SC: kill me

HC: I will.

 The giggles that came this time were a mix of relief and genuine intrigue. This lady read the comic every day. She took the time to scroll through pictures of her brother being an absolute lunatic and fighting with a huge monkey. Then she hopped into that comment box and took him—not Miles, not Ganke, specifically Blindspot--down a peg.

She must miss him a lot. Ganke wondered if this was her way of keeping him in her thoughts.

 MM: I don’t think we’re getting a sorry, man. DD says Sam’s been at this all morning and has been tricked into apologizing himself twice

GL: so you’re saying that she’s an evil genius

MM: idk but she’s def Sam’s main nemesis. I always thought that older siblings got like, rights or something over younger ones, but idk anymore. Angel says this is normal.

GL: do you think she misses him?

 Miles took a long time to respond.

 MM: yeah

 Yeah, Ganke thought so, too.

 GL: should we change Guo tin’s brother’s name to ‘hamish?’

MM: ASDLDSDSFKdsjf

MM: one moment.

MM: sam says yes. Hannah says that she thinks our comic is shit and we need to draw everything uglier

GL: she’s kind of funny

MM: 👀perhaps she would like to be a consultant?

GL: 👀👀👀👀

MM: brb asking

MM: sam says no. Hannah says she’s got better things to do than proofread comics on the internet. She’s also not sorry. She wants that to be clear. DD says that the conversation has moved from English to Chinese and to maybe duck and cover for now. He says all is good tho. Thanks for checking in.

MM: Muse doesn’t use punctuation and talks in riddles, so if we get any of that, we’re supposed to send it to DP right away.

 Oh, nice. That was a relief.

 MM: oh

MM: sam wants to put us in a chat. Can I give him your number?

 Uh, only if he wanted Ganke to hyperventilate.

 GL: sure

 --

  [GL has been added to a Secure Chat]

 It was a page of characters and emojis that were somehow more menacing than Ganke had ever seen them before. Miles popped a little waving hand into the fray, as though testing the waters, but the characters just carried on scrawling around it.

Ganke wasn’t quite sure what to do.

 GL: hi? Are y’all okay?

 There was finally a pause. Then a few shorter lines of characters. And then finally, Blindspot switched from Chinese to English.

 SC: yes we’re FINE. We’re GREAT. Aren’t we, sibling from hell?

HC: who’re you? Why are you in our family chat? This is a family only zone, can’t you read?

SC: God Hannah he’s Korean don’t be a dick

HC: I can’t not be I learned it from you

SC: fair but pretend in the face of company

HC: okay fine. Hello losers.

MM: adksadfadsdfldfsldf

MM: hi

GL: hi?

SC: go on

HC: UGH

HC: fine

HC: I didn’t mean to shit talk your creation. Only my brother.

SC: also a sin, we’ll get to that later

HC: no one cares about you Samuel, stop spreading lies

SC: you first. We both know this is no lie, my white dad cares about me a whole lot

HC: well we can’t all have white dads now can we

SC: don’t be jealous

MM: lol you really call Matt your white dad??

HC: who is this person and how do they know our mutual parent’s name?

SC: this is not a mutual parent situation how many times have we been through this. He’s mine. Get your own.

MM: hi! 👋🏾I’m Bitsy! Spidey no. 4

GL: I’m his friend. He draws the comic. I write it.

HC: oh. nerd children x2

HC: anyways yeah Matt is our dad

SC: ffs

MM: he’s sort of dadly ig.

HC: ?? oho

SC: mind your face. Think about your face. Think about how much you like your face.

HC: little spider, did you not hear?

SC: kay everyone out. We’re done here

MM: hear what?

HC: lol Sammy you didn’t tell them about how Matthew Mcconaughey adopted you in all ways but paperwork?

 Ganke held his phone away from his face as far as it would go.

 MM: …wait are you for real?

SC: no. okay out.

HC: awwww Sammy so shy now. What are you embarrassed about? It’s cute.

SC: Hannah literally shut up I’m not playing

HC: damn okay sorry

MM: can I be honest?

SC: no

MM: I’m going to be anyways: I think we all sorta knew.

SC: …

HC: right?

SC: what does that even mean?

MM: idk, it just felt right, you know? You two are always fussing at each other and red lost his shit that time you got shot. He doesn’t treat you the way he treats the rest of us and we’re his teammates. He doesn’t even treat spidey like he treats you. So like, yeah. It fits.

MM: I’m really happy for you guys.

MM: is there a reason it’s a secret?

 Ganke eased himself back down onto the mattress. This was real. This was like, actual, real information. Something that he and like, four other people in the world now knew.

He kind of wanted to forget it. It didn’t feel right to know.

 SC: I dunno.

HC: if sam has an honest emotion towards anything he has to calculate its weight so he can make space for it in his collection of satellites.

MM: wh

SC: you’re so not funny.

HC: it’s called emotional repression, darling. It’s all the rage in this family.  

MM: oh

MM: so that’s why you and Red get on so well

SC: HHHHHHH

HC: HA

SC: okay but listen his is different, I’ve only seen him cry at his wedding. I cry at least 4 times a week. Obviously under the bed, but that can’t be emotional repression. That’s expression. That’s clearly expression

HC: I can make the old man cry watch me

SC: please don’t I’ll die

MM: awwwww

SC: shut up it doesn’t even matter.

MM: AWWWWWW

SC: LEAVE ALREADY

MM: no I like it here. I want to hear you talk about how much you love your white dad

SC: I don’t. He loves me. I’m fine with this because it results in food, shelter, and continued employment.

HC: uh huh

SC: I’m using him

HC: yeah because you’re like the most manipulative person I know.

SC: thank you

HC: /sarcasm

SC: I know I ignored it.

MM: so wait why do you actually pretend like you hate him tho?

SC: wh

SC: what the fuck am I supposed to do? Just go on up for a cuddle? Have you met Matt? The second someone starts crying, he finds trash to take out to the bins. Hell no. Life is easier for everyone if I stab him with a stick and he kicks my ass in training. It’s fine.

HC: Sam is learning how to be a Manly Man. This is step one.

SC: I’m plenty manly

HC: you’re what mom imagined as manly

SC: which is perfect. That’s all I need.

HC: mama’s boy

SC: must suck to suck, no one’s kid.

 Wow. Ganke had never been more glad that he didn’t have a sister.

 GL: That’s kind of cool, though.

GL: that you and DD are close like that I mean.

GL: Its different from all the other mentor/mentee superheroes we see who like, sort of hate each other.

SC: wh

SC: OH. you mean Peter and Kate. Peter doesn’t actually hate Stark, fyi. And Kate calls Hawkeye the Old bi-weekly to make sure he’s still breathing. It’s actually pretty normal.

MM: he doesn’t mean like that Sam. I mean, like those guys don’t associate with their Olds now that they’re grown up and stuff, but you and DD stick together. It’s like you’re family.

MM: and that’s super cool. Idk if Spidey would ever consider me family. I don’t think he wants that for us.

SC: I?

SC: oh shit

HC: CLARITY ON THIS FINE DAY. What was your name again, tiny spider?

MM: miles

HC: PRAISE BE TO MILES

HC: AN EMOTION WAS HAD

SC: get fucked

HC: An epiphany was obtained!

SC: would you shut up

HC: Something has finally permeated that non-porous, two-inch thick skull of my esteemed eldest brother

SC: I’m your only brother

HC: you’re not

SC: they don’t fucking count

HC: now will you FINALLY invite our mutual dad to hotpot?

SC: Hannah he doesn’t want to come to hot pot we’ve talked about this. it’s too spicy for him.

HC: I’ll make it 1/3 less spicy

SC: that’s still too spicy

HC: I’ll make it 2/5 less spicy

SC: 3/5

HC: listen

HC: I have all this fucking equipment that SOMEONE left here callously

MM: what’s hotpot?

SC: 👀

HC: 👀

GL: 👀

SC: well fuck

HC: EYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

GL: have we never taken you with us for hotpot???

MM: no?? is this the sticks?

HC: can be. Where do you live?

SC: Hannah no

HC: Hannah yes. We’ll make one here. You’ll make one there.

SC: do you know how much shit I’ll have to buy? Where are we gonna put it?

HC: this wouldn’t be a problem if you’d taken your goddamn inheritance with you to SF

SC: HHHHHH

MM: you guys are actually being serious?

HC: I am. I am here all on my lonesome. Abandoned by my only kin. I require enrichment.

SC: try doing your fucking homework

HC: did anyone hear something?

MM: lololololol I like you

HC: 😊

SC: wh

SC: oh no. No no no.

SC: you two don’t get to be friends

HC: come here bb pspspspspspsps

MM: I’m here

HC: got ‘im. Let’s have hotpot. Sammy send me resippy. We’ll do it together over video so I don’t fuck it up.

SC: I’ve got to go. This has been traumatizing.

HC: byeeeeeeeeeeee

HC: is he gone? Hell yeah, he’s gone.

HC: hey thanks for making that comic thing. It’s hella rad. He loves it. Mom used to call him Monkey when he was little.

GL: omg aw

HC: ikr? P cute. He misses her a lot so I think it brought back good memories. Anyways, I’m actually going to make hotpot. Come over and have some with me, it’s more fun with more people.

MM: you’re not joking

HC: nope, it’s been ages since your whole team has gotten together, right? Ask them to do it. I’m a shit cook, but Sam’ll show us how not to screw it up. And he’s playin’, he’s totally down to hang out with us. We never had more than three people. It’ll be new. Exciting. Enriching even.

MM: are you secretly a nice person, Hannah?

HC: the fuck do you mean ‘secret’??? I’m a delight.

MM: Okay I’ll ask the team and my mom

MM: ganke?

HC: 👀

 That—

Sounded kind of nice?

 GL: I’ll ask my mom.

HC: nice. You can tell them that it’s a friends dinner or whatever. Idc. I promise I’m not going to kidnap and murder you. I’ve got like, class and work and shit. I don’t have time for that.

MM: 👍🏾

GL: 👍🏼

HC: great here I’ll message you my number. This is legit our sibs chat so Sam’ll freak if you’re still here when he gets back.

MM: thank you! And sorry for thinking you were muse!!

GL: yeah that too

HC: lol np ttyl                                    

 That…had really just happened, hadn’t it?

Ganke needed to sit down even though he was already sitting down.

 GL: they’re so nice???

MM: ikr?

GL: are you actually going to ask your mom?

MM: Im gonna ask BT if its cool first. Then yeah. Why not? Our team really hasn’t gotten together in a minute. Everyone’s been super busy. It would be a nice change of pace, and if everyone brings smth then Hannah doesn’t have to pay for anything.

MM: ah, Sam says it’s okay. He says sorry his sister is weird and that he’ll make sure she doesn’t poison us.

GL: I kind of love her

MM: same

MM: okay will check in with the others. Talk to you later.

GL: yeah see you later

 Damn, at this rate, Ganke’s family was going to triple in size, and all thanks to a comic.

Before he left for downstairs, he made a note to make Guo tin’s brother snarkier.

[shutupanakin]

Wasting Your Time ch.1

“Wh— what?” Tommy choked out, his voice hoarse from the lack of use all day.

The man rolled his eyes, as if he didn’t just ask a completely impolite question. “I said, do you have any booze?”

Tommy sat still. He reached into his jacket pocket, his hand finding only a plastic pen. Could he stab this man with a plastic pen?

Tommy pulled said piece of plastic out, visibly holding it up. “I have a pen.” Something about the bemused look on the man's face made Tommy click it, and again, repeatedly.

click click click click click click click click—

...

or; Tommy planned on dying. He meets Wilbur instead.

crossposted on ao3 here

Tommy stared at the yellow line, centimeters away from his feet. The announcement of the incoming train ringing in his ears, feeling the approachment of the vehicle vibrate the concrete under his feet. He forced his head up, glaring at the incoming lights.

Tommy squinted. He threw a glance at the only other person waiting on the 11:25 pm train— a little old lady, Tommy was sure that he had at least a foot on her. Her wrinkled hand clutched a brown cane, the other one on her ruby red purse.

Tommy would hate to inconvenience her.

Tommy stepped a few inches back, safely behind the yellow line. The train slowed to a stop, waiting a few moments before the metal doors pulled open in front of him, clicking with a metallic sound. There were a few stragglers at the front, where the elder woman had gotten, and a couple sitting in the midsection. Tommy ducked his head and grabbed a seat at the back.

Tommy threw his feet up on the empty seat next to him, resting the back of his head against the warm glass. Another few seconds and the doors hissed shut. The train pulled away, the lights in the tunnel buzzing past him.

Tommy mentally tallied how many people were in here with him; the three at the front, with the elder woman who was with him on the platform, and the couple. Six people who’s nights he could've possibly ruined. Delaying a train at this time of night would be rude.

Sam would be sleeping, he had morning classes that he couldn't afford to stay up late for. When Tommy slipped out of their flat his older brother had been snoring away peacefully in his room. The thought of Sam makes Tommy pick at a loose thread on his jacket, pulling it with his fingernail. He didn’t want to think about Sam right now.

Tubbo would be up, definitely. His absent sleep schedule sucked. He was probably in a discord call with Ranboo, talking or playing CSGO or messing around in Minecraft , he didn’t know. On a normal night he’d probably be with them. Laughing so hard and loud that it makes the neighbor's dogs bark. Falling over in his chair… and Sam would sleep right through it, like he always did.

Wasn’t exactly a “normal” night, though.

Honestly, he hasn’t had a normal night in a while. Tubbo, often Ranboo, would text him; “wanna play?” Or “why aren’t you in vc?” And Tommy would reply, “sorry, don’t feel like playing”, or,”can’t, got a bunch of homework.” Sometimes that wasn’t a lie. Then, Tubbo just stopped asking. And of course, Tommy couldn’t blame him, it hurt, yeah, but Tommy unintentionally ghosted them.

He just couldn't stand to be in that call, after the last few times. Tubbo and Ranboo giggling at each other, poking fun with inside jokes that Tommy didn’t understand. Little moments like those would have Tommy faking a yawn and saying goodnight. He didn’t want to ruin their fun.

Tommy’s phone buzzed, the little bit of reception that he got down here snapping him back to his current reality. The train had stopped at the next station, the couple standing and the old woman following. Tommy’s eyes followed them as they left, debating if he should follow. Another buzz. Tommy turned his attention back to his phone.

Tubbo at 11:30 pm

Toommy

Tubbo at 11:30 pm

do u wanna play Terraria

His fingers started typing, beginning a message, but shook his head, shoving his phone back in his pocket. His activity on discord was already invisible. Tommy didn’t know what to say to him. He didn’t want his last possible text to Tubbo to be something as simple as a turndown to play a game.

A thump from across Tommy startled him, the cause of the sound being a man with a mess of curly brown hair mirroring his position across the aisle. His leg up and arm resting on the top of the seat. Brown eyes framed with round glasses met Tommy’s.

"Got any booze, kid?” The train was pulling away.

For no particular, definitely unrelated reason, Tommy wished that he had just gotten off.

“Wh— what?” Tommy choked out, his voice hoarse from the lack of use all day.

The man rolled his eyes, as if he didn’t just ask a completely impolite question. “I said, do you have any booze?”

Tommy sat still. He reached into his jacket pocket, his hand finding only a plastic pen. Could he stab this man with a plastic pen?

Tommy pulled said piece of plastic out, visibly holding it up. “I have a pen.” Something about the bemused look on the man's face made Tommy click it, and again, repeatedly.

click click click click click click click click—

The man waved his hand, leaning forward. “Fucking— stop that! You are annoying.”

Tommy grinned, it didn’t reach his eyes. “I know,” He said, pocketing the pen. “and you are a loser.”

The man gasped in a show of dramatics. Bringing his arm up to his forehead, the brown fabric of his coat covering his eyes. “Oh, woe me, the tragedy, meeting my end to a child!”

Tommy scowled. “You’re a real prick.”

The older man didn’t falter, continuing his tirade. “Poor, poor me. All thy’ve ever wantedth was thy vodka.”

Tommy didn’t know why he egged this on. He could pull out his earbuds and tune out his nonsense until Tommy or him got off the train, whichever was coming first. “Your Shakespeare sucks,” Tommy grunted. “ Wantedth isn’t a word, bitch.”

“Then you know Shakespeare?”

Quickly, Tommy shook his head. “Absolutely not. None of that nerd shit. I just paid enough attention in Lit to know you’re a fucking moron.”

His eyes narrowed at Tommy, or more so, what he was wearing. “What sport do you play?”

Tommy’s eyebrows shot up, what made him ask that? “Pardon?”

He groaned, rolling his shoulders. “Your jacket, you insolent toddler,” He gestured vaguely at Tommy. “what sport?”

Tommy looked down, glancing at the red thread he was picking at earlier. “Oh,” That came out quieter than Tommy wanted, a whisper. “it’s my brothers,” There was Tommy’s voice. “Got it when he was visiting the states.” Tommy shook his head, brushing the thought of Sam away. “And my names Tommy, dickhead.”

The complete ass, he had the audacity to hum at him . “Wilbur Soot,”

Tommy scoffed. “That’s a stupid fucking name.”

“You are a child.” Wilbur chided, there was no true heat behind his words.

Tommy shrugged. “You’re a bitch.”

Another stop, Tommy tallied that as the third one; another stop he hadn’t gotten off at. This wasn’t meant to be a trip, he remembered. The ticket, which sat folded in his pants pocket, was one way. Tommy had bought it out of... what was it? Courtesy? He hadn’t intended to survive long enough for the ticket collectors to come around.

Excuses. Excuses, that’s what this was. Tommy was making excuses, simple as that. He wanted to go through with this, he was sure of it. He’d thought about this for weeks, planned this out for days, he figured out which day and which time of night would have the least people. But there were still people, there was the old lady and couple who had gotten off earlier and the four people at the front and the—

Well, there was Wilbur Soot, who for whatever damned, unknown reason, had sat down across from Tommy. Now Tommy was stuck with him until either of them get up and leave. He silently wondered who would go first.

No one had gotten on, or left. The train moved on.

“So uh, where—“ Tommy stumbled, swallowing. “Where you headed?”

Wilbur shrugged, Tommy furrowing his eyebrows. "Nowhere in particular, just felt like getting on. You?”

The fuck did that mean? Tommy thinks. “So you just... got on, no reasoning. Just like that?”

“Just like that. You didn’t answer the question.” Tommy groaned. Tommy was edging back to wanting to punch his stupid face.

“Not when you answer so vaguely,” Tommy cried. “I’m not going anywhere in particular either, for your information.”

“Really?” Wilbur pushed, incredulously. Like he had the right to be skeptical.

“Really.” Honestly, who did this irritable dickhead think he was? Tommy shuffled, folding his arms. Maybe he will get off at the next stop, he won’t ever have to ever see the enraging presence that was Wilbur Soot and his stupid Reagan and Bush sweater again.

Reagan, Reagan… that was an American President, right? The more and more he observed the man, it could be concluded without a doubt that he was a loser. Not only that, but an irritable one. An irritable loser. What a fate, worse than death. He’d say it was a cursed existence, if you asked Tommy.

Tommy shifted uncomfortably, becoming too aware of the hard plastic seat underneath him. “I just needed to get out tonight. Don’t know why.”

Wilbur rapped his knuckles against the window, in a rhythm that Tommy didn’t recognize. “Running from something? School? Parents?” He grinned. “Girlfriend?”

Tommy’s face twisted in disgust. “I— no no no. To all of those! Down the list, no, no, and no. ”

“Running to something then?” You could word it like that. Tommy frowned, decidedly not answering. “What, were you gonna jump then?”

Tommy knew that Wilbur was joking, but he couldn’t help the way he flinched. “I wasn’t going to jump, bitch— do you do this to every stranger you meet on the rails? Interrogate them for their life story?”

Wilbur pointed his index finger towards the front of the train. “They would not care, you know,”

Tommy’s mouth was dry. “What?”

“Them,” Wilbur gestured. “everyone, they would complain about the delay, they— they would be at best inconvenienced. At worst angry at you .”

“You’re real emo, you know,” Tommy deadpanned. “A right gothic.”

“I prefer poet,” Wilbur corrected. “I am not wrong though, the people here, no sympathy. No empathy. Just inconvenienced.”

“You’re inconveniencing me.” Tommy expressed.

“Because you were going to jump?”

“ Oh —“ Tommy snapped. “That’s none of your business! Stop trying to psychoanalyze me you pretentious prick, what I came down here to do is none of your busin—“

“So you were going to? That is what you came down here to do?”

Whatever battle they were fighting, Tommy was losing, and he was exasperated . “Oh, so, what if I was? Why do you care?”

“Come on,” Wilbur said, swinging his legs over the seat and standing up. How his legs weren’t asleep, Tommy didn’t know. Tommy hit his asleep leg, silently cursing it.

“Wha’?” Tommy asked, narrowing his eyes. “What makes you think I wanna get off with you?”

Wilbur shrugged. “Well, I have nowhere to go, and you have nowhere to go, and to be honest this is getting depressing. And, I would rather not leave a possible suicidal teenager alone. Also, I know a store outside this station.”

Tommy groaned. “Oh no,” He said. “I’m being kidnapped. No, stop, someone help please.” He stood up, shaking the static like feeling out of his left leg. Begrudgingly following Wilbur when the sliding doors pulled open. “Is this the part where your gang comes around the corner in a white van and shoves me in?”

“I don’t have enough friends for that.” Wilbur insisted, leading Tommy up the concrete stairs of the station. Tommy couldn’t help his smile. “I believe you.” Wilbur blew air out his nose, hopefully in amusement.

Tommy checked his phone, the bright light illuminating his face as he and Wilbur stepped out of the tunnel. 12:22 am stared back at him, along with a few more texts from Tubbo. Tommy pocketed it.

Tommy breathed in the crisp midnight air, after almost an hour in the underground, the fresh air felt nice. The area was rural, decently lit for the middle of the night. Tommy turned to look at Wilbur. “So where we goin? Pub? Club? I don’t have a fake ID, big dubbs.”

“No,” Wilbur shook his head, starting his trekk up the hill. “Store, if you can call it that. He is open until three.”

They crossed the street before Wilbur came to a stop, tapping his foot against the ground. “This it?” Tommy asked, reading the sign. Wilbur giving a mmm hmm — in response.

JACK OF ALL TRADES

That was… lame, Tommy thought. “I can’t go in though.” Tommy double-took, stepping back.

“What do you mean you can’t go in?!” He hissed.

“Got banned.” Wilbur replied, as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

“How?”

Wilbur slapped him on the shoulder. “Story for later, my young friend. Maybe refrain from telling Jack I sent you in, though.”

Tommy huffed. “You suck.” He stuffed his hands in his jacket pocket. “You’re not gonna ditch me here are you?”

Wilbur rolled his eyes, holding up three fingers. “I swear on it.” His smile grew, eyes shining.

He sighed. “Why am I going in again?” It seemed rather pointless, to take Tommy to a store he wasn’t even allowed in. With a quick glance through the windows Tommy guessed it was some sort of gift shop, snow globes and odd looking jewelry lining their respective shelves.

Wilbur tilted his head. “Because it will give you something to do other than to ride the tube to the end of the tracks trying to make up your mind.” He answered.

“When you put it like that,” Tommy grumbled, pushing open the door, triggering the bell at the top to ring. The inside was small, and warm. It was definitely homey.

“Hello!” A heavy accented voice greeted Tommy looked up, a shaved headed man wearing a striped hoodie smiling at him. Jack, he assumed. He sat behind the counter, his legs perched up on the counter. He put down the magazine he had been reading. “What brings you here this time of night?”

Tommy’s mouth formed into a ‘o’, he didn’t expect to have to make conversation with another stranger tonight. “Oh, um,” He cringed, running his hand through his hair. “out for a walk, saw you were open.” He lied, Wilbur had said not to bring him up.

Starting to pick at the thread again, his eyes scanning over the snow globes and miniature statues. His attention fell on a bowl of pins, some were round and others were shaped. The scan bars on the back faded or scratched out.

He reached in, moving around the pins. He wasn’t really searching for anything specifically. Tommy rubbed his thumb over the bee shaped pin he had pulled out. “How much?”

“The pin?” Tommy nodded. “Two pounds.” Jack answered.

Tommy blinked. “That’s ridiculous.” He grumbled, opening his wallet. He handed it to Jack, fiddling with the bee pin.

“Have a goodnight now!” Jack called as Tommy left, stepping outside. Wilbur was there, like he said he’d be.

“Did you get banned for complaining about his obscure prices?” Tommy sneered, making Wilbur laugh. “Absolute ridiculousness.”

“What did you get?” Tommy opened his palm, showing the bee. He attached it to his jacket, the needle clicking into place.

“Jackets blank, thought it could use something.” Tommy explained, walking beside Wilbur. “I’ve been completely ripped off, though. You did this to me.”

“No no, mister Jack Manifold did that to you. Not me.” Wilbur expressed. “I merely brought you there.”

“To be scammed.” Tommy insisted.

Their walk back to the tube station was pleasantly uneventful, Tommy didn’t comment on how Wilbur got on the opposite platform they got off of. He guessed that was the sign that this night was coming to an end. They were going back in the direction they came.

Tommy silently wished that they didn’t, that they kept going. The idea of returning home was becoming less and less appealing. The robotic voice echoed through the speakers, announcing the incoming train.

Tommy resisted the urge to make a jumping joke, knowing that would earn him a smack against the head or something. So he stood behind the yellow line, Wilbur at his side. The inside had a single man, at the front alone. Tommy ignored him, hitching his seat at the back, Wilbur sitting across from him.

“This wasn’t how I planned my night, by the way,” Tommy grumbled.

“I know,” Wilbur told. “I am sure this had the better outcome though. I will make you a deal, okay?” Tommy nodded, starting to play with the edge of his sleeves. “If you can make it to the end of the week without, trying to jump in front of another train, or try to kick a chair out from underneath you—“

“That would be a really lame way to die,” Tommy interjected.

“I am giving an example, Tommy,” Wilbur huffed. “If you make it through the end of the week, come back here. Same day.”

Tommy considered it. “Same time?”

Wilbur shrugged. “Sure, although I would not recommend making a habit of sneaking out in the middle of the night.”

Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose, contemplating. This offer— there was no reason he had to take it. He could get off and never see Wilbur again, it wouldn’t change anything. The world will continue spinning, they would both move on, Wilbur would eventually forget about this strange encounter, and so would Tommy.

They stopped, again, no one getting on or off. Wilbur was still waiting for his answer. Tommy didn’t have it.

This was nice though , Tommy thought. It was nice to leave that flat, to get off his mattress. To have a reason to ignore the discord messages from Tubbo and Ranboo. He didn’t have to lay in bed, dreading going to his classes the next day, because he was occupied. He had something to do.

“Alright,” Tommy said. “I’ll take that bet, big man.”

“Deal?” Wilbur reached his hand out, Tommy leaned forward, shaking it.

“Deal,” Tommy gave a toothy smile. “I’ll try not to become a tubeline statistic until next week.”

“That is not funny,” Wilbur warned, although there was no true malice in his tone. “I will have you know statistics are no laughing matter.” Tommy barked out a laugh, the serious expression Wilbur word dropping. If the stragglers at the front were giving bewildered stares at Tommy, he didn’t notice.

“It was…” He wheezed. “It was kinda funny. If anyone gets to joke about that it’s me, alright? Isn’t that some, therapist shit or something? Using humor to cope? That’s me. I’m doing that.”

“You should try that, seeing a therapist,”

Therapy was useless, at least to Tommy. He didn’t need someone in a fancy office to tell him something was wrong with him, he knew damn well what was wrong with him. No pens, or clipboards, or uncomfortable couches, or ticking clocks and judgemental eyes will be able to tell him something that he didn’t already know.

Tommy thinks Sam knows one, or at least she’s studying to become one. A school friend that Tommy’s met maybe twice. The mere idea of dumping his shit on her, he almost felt bad! No thank you , Tommy thought. He would be avoiding that.

“Nah,” Tommy brushed it off. “I don’t do that. Don’t need that. Won’t do anything for me.”

Tommy didn’t realize how long they had been talking, because when the train slowed into a familiar station, Wilbur pulled himself up. Tommy frowned, watching the man stand next to the doors, waiting for them to pull open.

“So, see you next week Toms?” He teased.

Tommy groaned in annoyance. “We are certainly not at Toms yet, big dubbs.”

“I will get there I’m sure,” He said, stepping out. “Farewell Tommy!” He waved, Tommy’s urge to punch those stupid glasses off his face coming back.

Tommy flipped him off, watching the curly mop of brown hair disappear as the train started moving, the platform and the man with it being replaced by the cement walls.

His stop was next, he realized. Tommy would get off, he would walk home and slip into his bed and would have to pray that Sam’s heavy sleeping habits had not changed; that he hadn’t gotten up and realized that his bed was empty, or that the door was unlocked. The thought of Sam sitting there on the couch, waiting for him to enter the door like some sort of walk of shame—

Tommy quickly checked his phone, looking at the notifications. He breathed in relief, no notifications from Sam. No missed calls, no voice mails, no worried text messages; all things that would indicate Sam was awake and that he knew Tommy was out.

Shakily, Tommy stood up. The doors clicked open, waiting for him to exit. He could just keep going the other direction, he thought. He made no promise to Wilbur to return home.

Tommy stepped out, the doors hissing shut behind him. Wind bristled through his hair as the train moved again, almost taunting him. Look at me! Look what you missed!

He chose not to, though. Tommy didn’t because of a bet, and he didn’t even place money on it. A simple bet of wills was supposed to keep Tommy running till the end of the week. It wasn’t like Tommy didn’t enjoy Wilburs company either, it was… nice, having someone to just talk to, to engage with. He didn’t have to raise his voice or make a scene to get him to listen to him.

He would never tell Wilbur that, though. He was fucking irritating enough.

Tommy shoved his hands in his pockets, leaving the station. He’d come back, alright. If not just to prove something to Wilbur but to himself, maybe.

He really should've put money on it, though.

[hyrule-kingdom-updates]

ALL of the emojis for Siv :D

What is the kindest thing your OC has ever done for someone? What is the kindest thing someone has ever done for them? On the flip side, what is the worst thing your OC has done to another person?

I don’t think I can point out a *single* ultimate kind act, but Siv raising and caring for his brother throughout their whole childhood is definitely one of the kindest periods of his life. Spoilers, but: Siv didn’t actually believe himself to be capable of being a knight, in fact Ligero was specifically trying to keep him out of Larc’s life, letting them grow to be more independent, giving Siv every reason to be jealous and spiteful. But Siv trained to be a knight anyways because he didn’t want his brother to be alone through it all. He would never admit it, but Siv is a really kind and soft person. He cared for everyone of LinkLink’s scars and scabs when they went shield surfing, he took Zavis to a surprise party when his mother didn’t bother to throw anything that special. He wrote Revali letters, he sewed little rat plushies for Aryll to add to her collection—and I think it all stems from his childhood, where the only thing that he was certain of, the only choice that he could without a doubt claim was a good and kind thing that he didn’t mess up on, was caring and loving for someone that he by all other means didn’t have to.

As for the kindest thing someone has done for him, well honestly I think Siv would consider anyone giving him a basic amount of respect and appreciation as the “kindest” thing. Although once, Zavis allowed himself to team up with Link to plan a perfect party for Siv, which is to say, a very notable feat.

As for the worst thing Siv has done to someone: that’s probably spoilers. :3

What does your OC do when they see others upset or in pain? An upset friend? A stranger?

If a stranger was upset, Siv would probably just think, “Sucks to suck!” and move on. Unless they were like, REALLY sobbing, to the point where it would be impossible to ignore. Then he might stop walking, chat them up and buy them a drink, maybe hear their woes, but that’s probably it.

If it was a friend, he’d be immediately on their case, but would still try to play it off as him being an apathetic, disgruntled guy. But you know, Siv didn’t become an official royal Branch Buddy for nothing.

What is something true about your OC that they refuse to admit about themselves? Is there any reason to this besides embarrassment?

Under absolutely no circumstances will Siv admit that he is shorter than anyone. He finds it completely unfair that BOTH of his brothers are taller than him. He would hate it if you told him so, but Siv without a doubt has inherited a bit of his father’s ego, so calling him short, or even complimenting his hot royal guard brother when Siv is right there would ruffle his feathers to say the least

Describe a regular day for your OC. What is their schedule (if they have one).

Pre-Orator days, Siv basically wakes up whenever he wants (usually past noon), feeds the pet rats in the alleyways, then heads to the underground. Everyday is scraping enough rupees for a hot meal and a drink by selling illegal tickets to the underground monster fights, maybe organize a rigged gambling ring or two, and obviously scam any ten year olds that were looking to enter the world of pocket monster fighting themselves. Then when the “work” day is done, he’ll pop by an adequate tavern (the only one that would tolerate letting someone like him around) and eat and drink, and...that’s pretty much it.

As the Royal Orator, Siv wakes up and immediately heads to the dining hall, then hauls all the food and drink over to his office by 10am, cause that’s when his official work hours kick in. He then has to just sit there, listen to people’s grievances and input that will promptly be ignored (by either his hand, or most certainly by his superiors) while also posting out the important announcements and rat doodles with the Quill of Roost(both pre and post consumption). He might grab lunch in between and do fuck all, but by 9pm he’s gone out and about, doing whatever it takes to get as little sleep as possible because he doesn’t really like the sort of dreams he’s been having.

Current Siv doesn’t have a schedule, but he does have an agenda.

How does your OC think they will die? Does death scare them? Is there any reason for this?

Siv isn’t thinking about death. In truth, he thought he would have died much, MUCH earlier. Maybe get stabbed or executed? Maybe have a poor run in with an ex or particularly angry victim of his scams? But hey, now that’s he’s living the high life with all this power, he doesn’t care about death! For all he knows, he could live forever as long as he sticks with Ganon! All he has to do is follow what he says, and he’ll be happy forever and never have to fear anything ever again.

What is your OC’s most traumatic experience? (If they don’t have just one traumatic experience either pick one or describe them all!)

The Asunder Incident.

Siv constantly questions himself after that, “Why would I do that? Was I really capable of killing someone? Surely not, I’m not...I’m not that bad...” but the facts obviously stated otherwise. This was basically the incident that cemented himself as the person he is at the start of hku, apathetic and broken. He wouldn’t admit it then, but this singular event basically solidified everyone’s prejudice and perception of him, and rightfully proved them correct. It was his own actions that left him hated, abandoned, and alone, so yeah, he can’t complain now, it’s all his fault.

How would your OC react to the death of a friend/family member/loved one? Is there anyone they can confide in?

If Ligero died he would throw a fucking party for the ages.

Other than that, yeah, if someone he knew and cared about died he would be very heart broken about it. I think the only person he would really confide in about it would be Larc, but if it WAS Larc that died...I can only assume he would at the very least be severely depressed. He’s his favourite, cherished, little brat brother, after all.

What would your OC be like if they were evil. Or if they’re already evil what would they be like as the good guy?

This is an interesting question given that...I’ve already shown both sides to this, haven’t I? Maybe I’ll just let the story speak for itself...

How would your OC react to somebody telling them that they love them? (+ bonus give another characters/OC name!)

Siv would first play it off as a joke because defense mechanism! “Haha, yeah, and you know what I love? The bathroom!” and he would be off escape the situation. But if they were persistent, he would be very flustered and very...vulnerable, and scarily sentimental in his opinion. It would take some time, but I believe eventually he would really, truly accept it, in the end. Although patience is certainly a virtue, it took an entire childhood for him to use the L word for his brother.

What does your OC hate about themself? What lies about themself do they believe? On the flip side, What does your OC love about themself?

He hates being a bad person. He does not believe himself to be good or worthy of anything, thus he internalizes it wholeheartedly in order to gain that sense of control. So now that Siv’s accepted he will never be truly happy, he’s like, “Great! I can just not care about anyone else now.”

Thankfully, that’s changed recently, and he now believes, “You know what? I’m NOT a bad person! It’s everyone else that’s been wronging me! The problem with me is that I’ve been way to much of a coward to take what I deserve, so now I’m gonna do it, no matter what! I deserve to not be hurt anymore, and if I can’t do whatever it takes to achieve that, then how can I say I deserve to be happy in the first place?” Be sure to thank Calamity Ganon for that pep talk.

Right now Siv loves his power. He’s had the most control and power in this one relationship with Ganon than he’s ever had with anyone else in his entire life. He’s finally on top! Number one! He has something to really be proud of about himself! The old Siv hated themselves, but now that couldn’t be further from the truth.

Does your OC have any scars? How and when did they get them?

He doesn’t have any notable scars, especially given that he’s got the power o’ malice, baby! Malice is a representation of many things, one of them being time and memory, so it’s pretty easy for it to heal and return skin, flesh, and bone to a prior state. Perfect for healing and repairing people and objects, alike! Of course, malice is more famous for doing the opposite, sucking your soul out from you prematurely, feeling yourself die rapidly, your last breath being snatched and forced out of your lungs, a thousand breaths meant for a lifetime suddenly sapped out in a few minutes. But I don’t know why I’m talking about that, that’s not relevant haha

What is something your OC blames themself for and is it really their fault? Does it keep them up at night and is there any lingering trauma?

The Asunder Incident, he blames his actions for leading him to basically abandon his brother for like fifteen years. But that’s all I’m gonna say as I have plans to talk about his feelings on it further in the actual story.

In what situation would your OC be pushed to commit an act of violence? Would they go as far to kill someone if they had to? How would this affect them and their relationships with others?

Why, I can’t answer this in detail! That’d be giving away the story :3

Ok, maybe I’ll say this: Siv tells himself that he would do anything to get what he wants, of course he would do anything, because if he can’t, well then that just means he’s a pathetic coward who doesn’t deserve happiness anyways. So of course he claims that he will do anything, even killing someone.

What would your OC do if they were given god-like powers or the ability to change anything about the world for a whole day?

Siv would eliminate all shitty parents, maybe also give revive some dead people, and also permanently have a giant neon green tattoo of a dick be on Ligero’s forehead. Assivus would do the first thing, but he might also make everyone who has ever wronged him suffer for a very long time on top of that.

Describe one of your OC’s worst nightmares.

- Oh no, made a ficlet.

The first night he was in the castle, he had a dream.

There was a man, sitting across from him, dressed in glittering gold, with a green sash wrapped across his chest and waist. He was tapping his long nails against a desk, HIS desk, the white and purple quill still in the cup of ink, and blank parchment in front of him.

The man looked very out of place, and that was ignoring the fact that he was a withering corpse.

You’re dashing, aren’t you? The man said, still tapping his fingers. That’s when Siv realized that he was just sitting opposite to him, in the seat where guests were supposed to be. He tried to speak, but couldn’t. He tried to move, but couldn’t. He tried to blink, but didn’t.

He sat there and listened to the man, attentively.

Do you know what you’re doing here, Asunder? the man asked. Asivus didn’t. Do you know why I’ve allowed you here? What you are?

Siv didn’t know, but he couldn’t exactly express as such.

That’s because you don’t need to know. At least for now. The man leaned forward like mist, disappearing as Siv felt something pass through him, he couldn’t turn to look behind him as a delicate hand was on his shoulder. You’ll know things when I want you to know. You’ll say things when I want them to be said. And you will do things when I want them to be done. Because I own you. Err...

The man suddenly stopped to think, leaning on the right arm of Siv’s chair, tapping his bony chin, as if he had made a casual slip of the tongue. Because...you owe me. Yes, that’s the word. I’ve helped you so much Assivus Asunder. Or “will?” “Have?” “Am currently?” Futures and times are a funny thing. I apologize, I’ll have my words sorted out into something more professional and proper in our future.

The man spun around, and suddenly, he was no longer a corpse, but a dashing Gerudo man, dressed brilliantly and handsomely. His eyes were no longer a hollow gold, but green, somehow familiar.

The room was no longer some dinky orator office, but the sanctum of the castle, the apex of the kingdom. The man snapped his head towards him.

Let me ask you something, Assivus Asunder: Would you rather be here?

He gestured to the grand view of the sanctum, the sunset casting striking shades of red, black, and gold across the towering walls.

Or here?

The world spun once again, and they were suddenly on a dark street. The houses of Rauru diced the stone brick pavement. Siv glanced around and saw himself, sitting on the ground. There were two knights, one of them cursing loudly, and the other laying down beside him. There was so much blood and he could feel himself floating closer and—

No. NO. Wait. STOP. PLEASE! He tried to speak, scream, anything. No sound came. He saw a sword, a dark and rich puddle that seemed to even reflect his own face and—

They were suddenly back in the office.

Which is better? What do you prefer, of the two? I’m assuming the former? The man looked at him. I will allow you to nod yes or no to the former.

Siv immediately nodded a yes.

Trick question!The man boomed. Both are fantastic places, environments that you should love and cherish. There is so much good hiding in the places you would least expect, Assivus. I’ll help you remember that.

The world was suddenly nothing. Nothing but black. Just him, in a chair, staring at this smiling, pleasant, scary, red haired man. 

Don’t you want help, Assivus? I think there’s something you want, that you need help attaining? Isn’t there something? There’s no shame in admitting.

Siv thought for a moment, then slowly nodded a yes.

Do you want MY help?

Uhh...Siv wasn’t sure what to make of that.

Perhaps you can do a favor for me?

Fuck no! was Siv’s immediate thought. Who the fuck—First off, I don’t think I really like you, actually, so— 

Oh that’s alright! The man was suddenly very close to his face. Oh shit, could he hear my thoughts? Assivus, you can do whatever you want to do to be happy. I don’t want to force anything from you. He patted his cheek with a very cold hand.

In fact, I’ve now decided you don’t have to do anything for me. I am going to help you, and you don’t need to do anything in return. The man stood back, clasping his hands together. How does that sound?

I... He tried to speak, but remembered he couldn’t even move his lips.

I’m sorry again, Asunder. Here, I’ll allow you to speak now. The man didn’t even wave a hand, but Siv could suddenly feel how hoarse and dry his throat was.

So how about it, Assivus Asunder? I want you to be in charge of your destiny, I want you to be in total control. I would never force anything from you, I will simply be here, by your side, helping here and there, as you...figure it all out. How is that? Does that sound alright?

Siv opened his mouth, but couldn’t decide the words. If I say yes can I go back to sleep? Hella tired...

The man didn’t move, but Siv someone sensed a whisper beckoning somewhere with a “Yes. We’re all tired of many things, aren’t we?”

“O-Ok...” Siv finally said. “Alright, sure. I don’t see why n—”

Before the words were fully out of his mouth, the world suddenly stopped dead, as quick as a snap. He awoke from his bed with a jolt, his heart racing like he had just run a marathon, even though he didn’t find those last moments to be that thrilling or terrifying.

Siv sat for a moment longer, trying to contemplate the dream. But as most dreams are, the memory of it fell out of his grasp like loose sand between his fingers, and soon enough, it was already gone.

He flopped back into bed with a sigh.

Whatever it was, it was probably nothing.

What advice would your OC give to their younger self? What advice does your OC need now?

Already answered in a previous ask c:

[somethingusefulfromflorida]

13 Keys to the White House: 2024 prediction (as of August 15, 2021)

Midterm gains: false, the Republicans are going to sweep the House

No primary challenge: probably true, no Democrat with a future would dare to challenge Biden or Harris

Incumbent seeking re-election: probably true, Biden has indicated he's going to run again even though he'll be 82 at the time

No third party: too soon to tell, we won't know how the Libertarians/Greens fare until 2023 at the earliest

Strong short-term economy: too soon to tell, who knows if we'll be in recession in 2024?

Strong long/term economy: probably false, inflation is rising and Republicans are threatening to let us default on our national debt, so things are looking bad going forward

Major policy change: false, Biden hasn't done shit, and if he doesn't do shit NOW he won't be able to do shit after the Republican dominated midterms

No social unrest: too soon to tell, it will depend on how bad things get between now and 2024

No scandal: too soon to tell, all eyes are on Biden, but there's no telling what he'll do

No foreign/military failure: FALSE, Afghanistan is going down in flames, tens or hundreds of thousands of civilians are going to die when the Taliban takes over, it'll be the worst humanitarian crisis in the planet

Foreign/military success: probably false, withdrawing from Afghanistan was supposed to be a huge success, but the last 20 years have been pointless.

Charismatic incumbent: false, Biden wasn't charismatic in 2020, he's not gonna magically gain 20 or 30 percent more approval going into 2024

Uncharismatic challenger: true, none of the Republican challengers resonate with anyone outside their base, Trump or DeSantis or Cruz or Cotton or anyone else

Democrats need 8 true to hold power

Republicans need 6 false to retake power

1 is definitely true

2 are probably true

4 are too soon to tell

2 are probably false

4 are definitely false

Republicans are almost certainly going to win in 2024 unless Biden pulls a rabbit out of his ass and magically reverses course in the next 15 months; things are in flux now, but come November 2022 they will be set in stone.

Key 1 is a lost cause because of partisan gerrymandering; the Republicans will take the House by force, though they'll likely lose the nationwide popular vote

Key 2 is probably safe because it would require a challenger to get 33% of the vote, and I just don't see that happening against a sitting president

Key 3 is true as of right now, but could easily flip false for any number of reasons. Biden ran on the unspoken promise that he was a transitional president and would step down in 2024, but Kamala Harris isn't more popular than he is (in fact, she's less popular), so the Democrats have painted themselves into a corner; either it's an old old old man or Hillary Clinton 2.0

Key 4 is beyond Biden's control; over the last century, third party candidates have gained traction about every 10 years, once every 2 or 3 election cycles. They did well in 1968, 1980, 1992, 1996, 2000, and 2016, so 2024 is up in the air.

Key 5 could go either way, I don't know enough about economics to make any informed predictions

Key 6 is more nuanced; the creator of the 13 Keys defines it as "real per capita economic growth during the term equals or exceeds mean growth during the previous two terms." The economy grew under Obama's second term, and tanked under Trump's first, so the average of the last two terms is either zero net growth or very slight shrinkage. If Biden can grow the economy at all, even a little, this key could flip in his favor. If he continues to do nothing, he's as good as gone.

Key 7 is a nonstarter; W turned the US into a police state, Obama slightly improved healthcare, Trump changed taxes from the ground up (and dismantled liberal democracy through a rigged judiciary and disintegration of federal authority over the states), but Biden and the Democrats have pretty much wasted the last 8 months, accomplishing zero of their campaign promises. They passed a neutered stimulus package, and might pass a neutered infrastructure deal, both of which gave major concessions to the Republicans even though they supported neither. Biden is Gerald Ford, Jimmy Carter, and George H.W. Bush rolled into one.

Key 8 could very well lead us into another 2020 situation; not only have zero communities defunded the police, many of them have actually INCREASED funding. Republicans continue to dismantle our democracy by passing voter suppression laws, and are going to gerrymander their House into an unbreakable conservative majority despite only making up about 40-45% of the population. I expect to see major protests against Republican legislatures across the country, which will be quelled by both state and federal forces because Democrats never support active protests, only passive peaceful ones (ones that fail, but look polite on TV)

Key 9 could be real or invented; no matter what Biden does, whether he's squeaky clean or rotten to the core, the Republicans are going to impeach him in 2023. Hell, they'll almost certainly run in 2022 on the platform of "we will impeach Biden if we win." He'll be acquitted of course, but Republicans will control the narrative and gain popular support going into 2024. They might wait to impeach him until the election starts, or impeach him and hold a long protracted trial throughout the primaries and well past the national conventions. If they win the House, they'll almost certainly win the Senate too, which means they have all the power, even if they can't remove him.

Key 10 is a lost cause; there's no coming back from this, Afghanistan is an absolute failure, full stop.

Key 11 is very closely tied to key 10, so I don't see it flipping true because Biden doesn't really have any other major foreign policy objectives within his grasp.

Key 12 is a doubly lost cause because both Biden and his chosen successor are terrible candidates. Biden was picked by the establishment as a milquetoast "civility" candidate in opposition to Trump's extremism, and Harris is so unpopular she dropped out of the presidential race due to lack of enthusiasm before a single vote was cast. Biden was the lesser of two evils, and Harris is a lying centrist cop pretending to be a progressive. As I said in Key 3, the Democrats painted themselves into a corner; Biden/Harris is Carter/Mondale all over again.

Key 13 is safe now and forever because no candidate will ever have national appeal again. The creator of the 13 Keys gave examples like Lincoln, the Roosevelts, and Kennedy, as well as controversial picks like Reagan and Obama in 2008 (though not in 2012). Love them or hate them, these candidates resonated with the entire country in their day, but America has become too polarized for a member of one party to gain support from the other.

This is a disaster waiting to happen. It's unfolding before our eyes in slow motion, and we're unable to stop it. I feel trapped all the time, trapped in the world, trapped in the system, no agency,m, no control, no hope. I don't know what to do, because the powers that be are FUCKING EVERYTHING UP ROYALLY! This party is a laughingstock, and the alternatives are either pure evil or insignificant; I'd be a Green if they stood a snowball's chance in hell, but they don't, not even in a single district, neither federal nor state.

The system has to collapse in my lifetime, it's not tenable as is.

[shyrose57]

Brothers anon, sorry its been like 2 days since I last submitted something! I've been busy and whenever I finally had time to sit down and write this all its like 1 in the morning. I hope its still ok for me to send these.

🌹 anon ima respond to you first, your The Deal au could be the reason why and how Ranboos and Dreams soul got mixed and linked together. But then a problem is how did it pass to Ranbob? In my au, each person has their own soul basically. And while certain attributes like DNA can be passed through bloodlines, souls can't, as their unique to their person. 

What left Ranbob vulnerable to Dream is that he was seen as the star student. The apprentice everyone wanted. He always got perfect grades and was seen as the smartest in the City. This did not go well. As Ranbob was put under a ton of pressure to always stay perfect and get everything right. When his grades started to slip and his chosen mentor started to put even more work on him, his mentality started to suffer. With him losing sleep and starting to not care for himself or do the basic necessities like eating or drinking, all in an effort to be "perfect". Its through this need, and weakened state over all, Dream's presence was able to slip in and convince him to let him help.

Benjamin is 30, Isaac 29, Cletus is 24, and Charles is 27. 

When Ranbob first told Ran about the Dream mask and how he wasnt himself, Ran did not believe him at all. And kept saying that he needs to stop lying and fess up to what he did and pay for it. Others tried to convince him that his brother really wasn't in control of himself, but was met with strong skepticism, scoffs, and disbelief. With Ran not beliving that was the truth at all.

Watson was very shocked but quickly reorganized himself cause he had to calm Jackie, and its only after Jackie fell asleep he was like "Oh fuck. I really am the dad huh?" Jackie was embarrassed at first but after some prodding did say how he truly saw Watson as a dad figure in his life. And everyone had different reactions to Watson suddenly accepting and fitting into the dad role. Jackie was excited and immediately started calling him dad and asking him awkward dad questions "Dad whats puberty?" "Uhhh-" "Dad where do babies come from?" "Ask your dad about that!" "But you are my dad!" Ran seemed indifferent about it but Watson can tell he's revealed to have someone to talk too, and someone to go to if things get to much. Grievous keeps sating he doesn't need a dad but he's the one that goes to Watson the most for things like hugs, comfort, and advice. 

Jackie and Grievous do everything. They rig the battle field so if someone steps in a certain area water will shoot up into their face, Grievous usually taunts and distracts opponents so Jackie can sneak up behind them and just latch onto them and cover their eyes while giggling like a madman as the opponent screams and runs around trying to get him off. Jackie regularly pulls peoples seat out from under them, while Grievous scares them and makes them choke or drop something. But they do know peoples limits. Like for Ran, no water related pranks (there was an incident where Grievous spilled a whole bucket of water on him and Ran got severe burns and had to stay in the hospital ward for a few days), for Watson don't mess with his bow or arrows, he will stab you. And for eachother, Jackie, no pranks that leave him alone for extended periods of time or makes it seems like everyone is gone/left. For Grievous no pranks centered around food or drinks (like putting toothpaste in his sandwich or putting pepper in his beer). 

Ran and Jackie have a 50/50 win if that makes sense. They both win and lose pretty often. They play games like Spoons, Go Fish, Dart Throwing (Watson needs to be present for this one), something similar to Cards Against Humanity, Poker (everyone plays during this one), and Tic Tac Toe. 

Sometimes Jackie loves being the smallest and other times hates it. He hates it when Ran steals something of his and holds it above his head, he sometimes resorts to aggressively climbing Ran to get it but Ran tends to just pluck him off, and people make fun of him in a mean natured way (he's fine with light teasing). But he loves it when he rides Ran's shoulders or can duck under peoples legs and trip em. Because he's also small and fast he's hard to catch and that definitely comes in handy during fights. No ones particularly protective of eachother (excluding Ran who's protective of everyone), because they know none of them like being babied and they can all hold their own, though they will quickly flock to help eachother if they need it. Ran definitely flaunts it whenever their in a agurement. 

There is a area under the fighting arena of the pit where they stay. Theres separate rooms for everyone, training areas, dinning areas, and just chilling areas. Theres even extra rooms meant for often visiting friends (Like Genevieve) and some for storage of weapons which also holds things to sharpen them or get new ones. The Pit itself is in the middle of a gaint city, so there are tons of stores and food areas around. And because of a high salary the King gives them they go out quite often, often eating out and browsing stores when their not training or sleeping. 

If by other combinations you mean like Ran-Jackie, Ran-Grievous, Watson-Jackie, and Watson-Grievous then it highly varies. Watson and Jackie are by far the worst team, their styles just don't match and constantly but heads during battles. Watson and Grievous are probably the best out of the 4 teams because Grievous can be serious and works well with Watson as he's much more willing to change his fighting style to accommodate whats needed. Ran and Jackie are like Jackie and Grievous, but they aren't nearly as insane. Rather Ran provides distractions while fighting to give Jackie time to sneak up behind them. Ran also is the only one able to actually throw Jackie, which they sometimes do during battles. And Ran and Grievous work well together, but not as much as Watson and Grievous, its just a few things of both their styles don't match or could potentially cause problems.

He's clumsy flat out, he isn't used to having full control and needs to get used to certain things like walking or talking again. He is also severely dehydrated and malnutritished because Dream didn't care enough to drink or eat. He's also incredibly skittish and scared easily. He and Cletus's relationship isn't solved fast at all, it takes months and the work of everyone to get the two comfortable around eachother. They start by putting Cletus on watching duty, where he watches over Ranbob to make sure he's eating and drinking and resting while not tiring himself out. Then after a month or 2 Isaac, Benjamin, and Charles start purposely leaving the two in a room alone toghere to get them to talk stuff out. It takes 3 months until their comfortable enough with eachother to willingly talk and hang out. Oh the house building attempts went aboustely awful. They sometimes fell on Ranbob! And when they didn't they just collapsed or got blown away by the wind, but Isaac did ofter help a few times and showed him multiple different ways to make sure the walls stay up and keep the cold out. 

Ran is very unhappy with Ranbobs haunting, he thinks their kind of like Ranbob in which they've all killed people and considers them a threat at first, but when he sees how his haunting likes and interacts with Ranbob's, he losens up a bit, his group trusts them, so he has to trust them a little bit. But he doesn't trust them or like them nearly as much as he trusts and likes his haunting. 

Im guessing you mean who from the two groups get along the easiest. Most of them take a while to get to know eachother, like a few hours. But after that their all really close. Charles and Jackie, Cletus and Grievous, and Benjamin, Isaac, and Watson are the groups that get along really well really fast. 

Im honestly probably am going to go for them adventuring outside the City to try to get the brothers to get along again. Mostly cause I thought of the idea that what if Watson, Jackie, and Grievous all lie to Ran, and while they are actually going on an adventure, they lie to him that his brother and his group isn't coming. Then when its much to late for Ran to back out, Watson just goes "Oh yeah! Your brother and his group are traveling with us. And you can't do anything about it." And Ran just sits there shocked. 

Ran and Ranbob are both subtle protective of their group. With Ranbob never really getting aggressive or going into overbearing. But for Ran, if someone in his group is injured badly enough or if there's a big enough threat he does get overbearing and extremely aggressive towards whatever/whoever the threat is *cough cough Ranbob cough*. Ranbob tends to be very physical, listening more to a certain instincts that tell him to constantly have a view on or hold his family, as if he doesnt see or touch them for a long time he gets very anxious and panicky, thinking his family is dead and that he's all alone again. His group understands this and so tends to not stray to far away from Ranbob. He will also follow his group like a lost puppy at times. Ran while listens more to the instinct that tells him at random times to make sure his family is ok and to bond with them. The bonding leads to him randomly grabbing them and just sitting down with them, most likely playing games. While the random urge to check on them has led to him waking them up during the middle of the night or interrupting his own conversation or others conversations just to ask if their ok. His took a while to understand why he does it, but now if he wakes them up or drags them somewhere, they know to go along with it and comfort him during those times. 

Hybrids are rare! Especially aggressive or netural type mobs like Ran, Ranbob, and Porkius are. Their actually seen as monsters and are chased out or hunted in other city's because people aren't accepting of them. Theres very few city's like Subbin that fully welcome and are even led by hybrids. So there are more hybrids in Subbin, than there is anywhere else. 

Sorry this is so long ':)

Asks are always welcome here, and don’t worry about taking a bit or anything. The questions aren’t going anywhere, there’s plenty of time. 

Here’s that for you,🌹anon.

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

1: Wow, Ranbob’s really going through it, huh? Does he ever start to fall back on that need to be ‘perfect’ while with the others? If so, how do they deal with that? And how is he with others offering to help him? If he even can really recall falling under Dream’s thrall, by accepting such an offer, how does he react to others doing the same, even if their intentions are far different?

2: So we’ve settled all the ages down, nice. You figure out anything for their backstory yet? And how do their ages affect their relationships with one another? Does Benjamin take the lead a lot? Or is he more of a follower that still has a lot of say? Who met who first?

3: So Ran’s obviously going to be awhile before he believes what went down. Still, I can’t imagine he’d have been as willing to go along with his hauntings little roadtrip plan if he wasn’t swayed at least a bit, since I can’t imagine he wouldn’t have put his foot down if he truly though Ranbob had done what he did. Why exactly does he go along with it? Does some small part of him want to give his brother a chance? Is he just confident he can overpower him, and looking for an opportunity to settle the score? Does he see something that makes him hope a bit? What’s going down there, anon?

4: On one hand, very adorable. One the other hand, poor Watson. Does Jackie actually not know that stuff, or does he do that just to mess with his new father figure? It seems like they all take to it pretty well overall though.

5: I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. Two people to truly fear. How many people straight up forfeit when faced with this combination? It seems like they’ve had some interesting times, good and bad. How’d those play out? As for those last two, I’m sensing a bit of a backstory. Why does Grievous not like stuff being put into his food? And why’s Jackie not good with being left?

6: So it’s fifty/fifty, huh? Who wins the most at what games? And uh, Watson has to be present for Dart Throwing. What happened there? How’s everyone’s poker faces? Who’s got the best luck in games of chance?

7: A love/hate relationship with height. I feel ya, Jackie. Very funny to imagine though, Jackie just, physically climbing up Ran. How tall even is this guy?? How do they deal with meaner teasing, not just from the gladiators, but from general bullies? Not everybody’s as friendly as some of the Pit fighters, after all. And how do the fishermen react with their fighting skills? Obviously, they must know how to fight somewhat, to have entered the Pit, but the gladiators do this for a living. How much is the difference in skill level? And does the gang ever get to show off just how skilled they are? 

8: Their home sounds very nice, honestly, I wished I could live there, minus the people. What’s everyone’s rooms look like? How have they personalized them? Which brings up another question-what kind of interests and hobbies do they have? What kind of things do they do that aren’t fighting and related to such? And they must be pretty well known, to have such high pay. Any of them have an arena title, or some sort of stage name? How many people can recognize the city’s top gladiators on sight? And how do they get around that, when they don’t want to be seen? How do people feel about them in general?

9: All these team ups sound terrifying, and I wouldn’t want to be facing them. How do they deal with it when they get a bad match up? Do they just stay out of each other’s way? Try to take their opponents out quick? Make it one on one? Ran and Jackie have to be my favorite team up, solely for the fact that you’ve said Ran straight up throws him. Like?? Imagine coming to the King’s Pit, a well known, popular place, hoping to prove yourself, and then getting taking out by a flying midget, just tossed at you by a ridiculously tall endermen hybrid. How would you feel?? 

10: Ranbob is just really going through the ringer here. How many times does he just drop stuff, or trip over his feet? Does he ever get better, or does he still retain a clumsy streak? If so, how does Ran react to that? It’s very good he and Cletus bond! Are they just as close as the others, or is there still a bit of distance? How often does Ranbob forget to eat or drink, or really just take a break? How long does it take to get him to start remembering to do that stuff again? 

Does he ever slip up while with the gladiators? Also, in a room? Do the fisherman expand their house more, or do they just leave them in the house? Does Ranbob ever get his own house up? If so, does he use it at all, or is it more for storage? And how many times did he fall asleep out there, get injured, or not realize it was about to rain? How long did it take before Benjamin or Charles put their foot down and make him stay in for a bit?

Has Ranbob ever even dealt with rain before, or a storm above water? If not, how’d he react to it? 

11: Oh, boy, Ran. Your concerns are understandable, but definitely going to lead to some angst. Is he just on edge the whole time? How many times does he just glare at them, or straight up steal one of his haunting back a few feet away from Ranbob’s? Are the fishermen ever worried he might hurt them?

12: How do both hybrids deal with their groups bonding? I imagine Ranbob’s pretty happy with it, but how about Ran? As you said, he doesn’t seem to be the biggest fan of these guys. 

13: Roadtrip! Gotta love a roadtrip! What kind of places do they head? Any transportation, or is it just walking, enjoying nature? Do they go on an adventure to look for something cool? What’re they getting up to?

14: So Ran and Ranbob both act on their instincts in different ways. How do they feel about seeing how the other acts? What happens if any of the fishermen stray too far, or get separated from Ranbob? Same question to Ran. Ran just...like...picks up members of his haunting? Do people just see him walk around with them dangling in his arms? He must be pretty strong. How often does he do this? How else do their instincts lead to them acting? Cuddle piles, picking up blocks, keeping their groups close together, ect?

15: So Subbin’s pretty much a safe space for hybrids? Interesting. But since the groups are heading out, does this mean they run into some trouble outside of the city? And is there ever trouble within it? 

Other questions: Does Karl play any further part in this, or has he already played his role for good? Does the gang ever end up back at Mizu? Do any of the group have a pet or something similar? With there be any sort of connection to other Tales, even if only slightly, or will they be solely focused on these two? Does Ranbob pick up his studies of Ranboo as best he can once he’s free, or does he leave it all behind entirely?

Thanks for the ask, this AU’s become quite interesting. I can’t wait to see where it goes!