#other than that it was strangely hard to pick the rest of this year's lineup

[sapphireswimming]

My most significant albums of 2023 [2022] [2021] [2020] [2019] [2018] [2017] [2016] [2015]

In no particular order: Six the Musical OBC | Weightless by Marconi Union | Epic the Musical Concept Album | The Visit by Loreena McKennitt | Dance Fever by Florence + The Machine | Anthologia by Artisan | Honkai Star Rail OST | Lost at Sea by Fin | Hadestown OBC

Honorable Mentions: Inu Oh OST | Go Farther in Lightness by Gang of Youths | Octopath Traveler OST | Autumn Orange’s entire discography | plus @laora-ryn’s always-fantastic Gundam 00 Playlist

Tagging: @mabel-but-slytherin, @laora-ryn, @cthulhu-with-a-fez , @ninthfeather , @hawk-in-a-tree , @puppetmaster55 , @smartass-telepath (if you want) and anyone else who’d like to! Feel free to tag me because I love seeing what other people listen to :D

[mo-online]

"the other ravens didn't know jean's age!!!"

think of any 16 year old boy you know. does he look like an adult to you? would you call him a whore if you'd found out he'd gotten into five different men's beds in less than a week?

no?

then think of a scrawny, underfed 16 year old boy. his face is bony, but not quite sharp. his nose is crooked, and a part of you thinks that maybe he just hasn't grown into his own face yet, at least until the bruising makes you want to look away before you can think about it any harder. none of his clothes fit him quite right, and you can always hear his joints popping in and out of place. he has the thickest accent you've ever heard, and you still don't quite know what he's saying most of the time, even if he swears it's english and looks close to tears if you insist it's anything but too loudly (he's only been in america for two years and it's hard to grasp much when all you have to develop your language skills from is cruel insults).

he's not as tall as the rest of the court yet — actually, he's far from it. he's not spared enough to build any muscle, even throughout the relentless practices, and he always looks five seconds from passing out by the time the drills even start. he's sweating, panting, and there's a rattling in his chest when he does... has he broken a rib? why is he even here? he's not as big, not nearly as strong, and the other ravens zero in on him until he's a puddle on the floor. he can barely keep his own racquet steady in his hands, and when he props it up to lean on, you realize he isn't much bigger than the damn thing itself. the captain is always dragging him around, sometimes by his wrist, sometimes by his hair. you think it's just messy hazing for a while, and maybe you dare to spare him a pitiful nod and hope for his sake it'll end soon, but months go by and it never does. he's doubled over one day, then running laps the next, and god, why does he always reek of blood? you start to notice his fingers as they change colors, once bony and milky pale, now bruised black and blue and crusted over with scabs. they're misshapen... broken, almost every one. he shouldn't be playing like this, but he tugs his gloves on with his teeth and plays through the pain.

you pass his room on your way to bed, door wide open. he sleeps curled up in a ball, back pressed so hard against the wall, knees into his chest. you can hear his shaky breaths, how his lungs rattle uneasily, even in his sleep. he shakes himself awake from nightmares, gripping the sheets, dry heaving as he forces his own face into the pillow to muffle the sound... but he does not scream. he does not cry. poor kid, you think, because what else could you call him? he's far too beaten down to even think to consider an adult. a puppy kicked one too many times.

the captain calls everyone into a room, arms folded over his chest, face smug as if he'd come up with a solution to the entire world's problems. but there's something strange about the meeting. only backliners. gigantic, sneering, male backliners. he asks for volunteers, a few good samaritans to "fuck some sense into him," and you watch as five greedy hands fight to be the first in the air. riko makes his pick, makes his promise, and for the next week it's all you can hear at night. you wouldn't call it moaning, but... screaming. fighting. teeth and claws and fickle words. "please. please stop. please stop. please—" and then silence. the last night all you hear is defeated silence.

and suddenly it's the child's fault, isn't it? everyone else is saying it, that he slept his way onto the lineup, that he's nothing more than a braindead whore. if everyone's saying it, though, does that make it true?

or is it just easier to stomach?

[ateez-himari]

[240901] MAKNAES REUNITE

[NEW MESSAGES FROMM HIMARI]

[PM 10:49] The maknaes are maknae-ing harder than any maknae has ever maknae-d before

[PM 10:50] ㅎㅎ I might possibly be on social media more than you guys think, but the caption was both of our ideas to be fair. It's maknae telepathy

[PM 10:50] No we rode on the same one (please help me), I have a racing circuit license, a driver's license but I don't have a motorcycle license yet. We've been really busy lately so I'll get it when I have time

[PM 10:51] Ah, we're ahead of you! Jungkook oppa already posted the ta ta ta challenge on his account, we knew you guys would want us to do it ㅎㅎㅎ I can't believe he's starting trends while doing his service...

[PM 10:52] Oh, Tiny! It's his birthday today, he turned 27...he's getting very close to being 30 already yet he acts the same age as me. It's a shared braincell between maknaes I think

[PM 10:52] It's hard to keep track of but it's been about 11 years now, maybe a little more since we met before their debut. Since I'm still 22 I've known him half of my life

[PM 10:52] I didn't know he used one of his rest days, he just called me in the morning after my boyfriend left for the studio and asked if I was busy. It was fun, we went to eat barbeque after the bike ride

[PM 10:53] Oh I remember that, people were speculating for so long ㅎㅎI solved the mystery now, as you can see the extra helmet in his house was mine. I think the other members use it sometimes too so it's shared property

[PM 10:53] Some protective gear he bought for me is there too, I think some army were talking about it after a live and I felt kind of bad because they thought it was a girlfriend...

[PM 10:54] Jimin oppa told you that we cried when he started his service ? Wow, what a tattler, but it's true. I guess it was just really strange, I mean we grew up together in a sense so leaving each other for so long was heavy

[PM 10:54] Ahh no you can't talk to him, we said goodbye about two hours ago so I'm back home now. Mingi asked if I wanted to do a live later so you might talk to us!

[PM 10:54] If you guys are lucky he'll turn on the camera this time ㅎㅎ I really want to give you a tour of the airbnb at some point too, since it's a hanok (a traditional house) it looks really nice, like we're back in time almost

[PM 10:55] Hyunjin oppa already posted the pictures ? It's true, we went to see Stray Kids yesterday and it was such an amazing concert ! We met a few staytinys there, then had dinner with some of the members

[PM 10:55] No, I've actually known Bangchan oppa longer since we spent some time together before I left for KQ. We slept in the same room for a bit since neither of us were in the lineup for any group so there was no set dorm

[PM 10:56] How can you do this to me ?! There's no way I can pick a favorite solo, I really hope that they release them soon though...I'll put in a good word to JYP for you guys ;p

[PM 10:57] Don't worry I have plans with other members later on! But first we're going to go see my family in a few days, mom's been very adamant on 'setting my boyfriend straight just in case' ㅎㅎ I missed them a lot

[PM 10:57] Haneul's been asking me to come non-stop every time my brother calls to check up on me so I'm sure she'll be happy too. The members and I got so many gifts while we were on tour, Seonghwa oppa even got her some baby Lego

[PM 10:57] Oh, no, not Sannie oppa's older sister ! Haneul is my niece, Hanzo nii-chan's daughter, my brother wanted to continue the legacy of 'H' names to honor our parents

[PM 10:58] Ahh Mingi's out of the shower so I have to go now, we're gonna go on a walk (really romantic right ??) ♡ Love you so much, kisses!

Translated from Korean by Google

[dallasareaopinion]

Platform still coming, however a Mavs break

I am a bit perturbed by the national media’s reflection on the Dallas Mavericks’ trades. Many are not grading the trades well. I certainly understand they may not be an “A” grade, but there marks are way off the mark.

First in a strange way the first advantage is Luka can play five minutes or less per game if Gafford just gets 8 or more rebounds a game. And this can be with Luka on the court or on the bench. The more rebounds we get means the opposing team is getting less offensive rebounds which means less opportunities for them. This allows Luka to rest since teams will have less opportunity to make runs at any leads we have created. Kidd will not feel forced to put Luka back in too early in second and fourth quarters just to stop runs.

Second the depth at center improved mightily.  Even though we love Powell in Dallas, he is not your best option night in and night out to play major minutes as a center. Powell now becomes the third or even fourth option at the five. This is way overdue. Even Maxi can play some minutes at five in a small ball lineup better than Powell. Again I know he is a fan favorite in Dallas and has been showing a high basketball IQ this year along with always working hard, it is time for him to finish out his contract and retire. Maybe become part of the post game show or something, but he really needs to retire soon.

The draft capital was a bit much to give up, but half our team is young now and if they play well we should be contending strongly for four or more yeas so our first round picks would be pretty far down the line anyway. And soon Powell, Hardaway and Kleber’s contracts will have completed so we will have money to get up and coming free agents to go along with who we have now.

I wish Curry had stayed since THJ can be very streaky, but we have some good balance now for non Luka and Kyrie scoring with adding Washington to the mix. Basically we now have Washington, Green, Hardaway, Hardy, who have the potential to get 20 plus points on a given night and the others scoring in double figures gives us a well rounded attack. You add in either one of Exum, DJJ, Kleber also touching double figures regularly and things look really good.

Which leads to the next point, we have a deep rotation that could be used in tough 7 game series which again allows Luka not to have to play 45 minutes per game. I know rotations shorten in the playoffs normally, but when you have 8-10 players like what we have will help, even if some just play a few minutes. Keeping people fresh so come game 7 Luka and Kyrie have it in them to play 40 plus is an added bonus.

“X” feeds have quite a few depth charts now and even some people saying we may get Spencer Dinwiddie back which would be really interesting and means we are definitely ten deep in the playoffs, can work through minor injuries, and still run basically the same offense with all ten players in the rotation to having some serious flexibility as needed. IE Maxi playing small ball center to having two bigs to play the Timberwolves or the Nuggets if needed. We have not had that flexibility before and playing against some teams that will be a definite benefit. I don’t think Lively and Gafford will play together, but one of those with Maxi may not scare teams, but it will allow us to match up better than before. Yes not perfect, but much better than Powell being out there by himself which is what we have had to do too many times. Of course Maxi’s health has to improve, but still him stretching out and bringing a big out to guard him since he can hit threes will really open up spacing. Throw in Washington, Green or even Spencer at the three that can create on their own and things can get real fun.

We can play with pace with Kyrie and Hardy at times or even Luka some, or slow the game down to a crawl with Luka working the clock looking to score or see where the defense breaks down for the open shot. This makes the Mavericks are harder team to prepare for and in a 7 game series this matters.

Imagine being able to successfully have 3-4 different starting line up options and you can still play the same sets to start a game until you see how it develops.

You can have Luka, Kyrie, Green, Washington and Lively.

Luka Kyrie, Hardaway, Washington and Lively

Luka Kyrie, Green, DJJ and Lively

Luka Kyrie, Exum, Green and Lively

Luka, Kyria, Hardaway, Green and Lively,

You get the point, basically small nuances in who starts to either match up with specific teams or maybe just the healthiest players for the evening. Gafford could play in all of the above groups.

Then your bench rotations are based on how the other team is reacting, need to pick up the pace throw in Hardy, get bigger you go Lively, Kleber and Washington or even Morris if needed.

Luka may get less triple doubles but he still gets his points and averages more assists since Kidd can play the hottest hands that night throughout the game and not play anyone not shooting well that evening. Kidd can rest Luka longer and still keep two ball handlers on the floor at all times especially if we get Spencer which helps Hardy develop and play more freely and hopefully Exum gets healthy soon.

Imagine a five guard rotation line up of Luka, Kyrie, Hardy, Exum and possibly Spencer who all can create for others or make their own shot. You have three pick and roll centers in Lively, Gafford and Powell. You can stretch the floor with Washington, Green, Hardaway and a bit with Kleber. You can run or play small ball with Kyrie, Hardy, Exum, Green, Washington and Lively or Kleber. And when you need to get a stop in the last minute you have Lively or Gafford, Green, Washington, Exum, DJJ, Morris and depending on the situation Luka or Kyrie or Kleber or Spencer.

Not sure why the national press or media doesn’t think the Mavs did well. They may seem minor additions, but we didn’t need to kill depth to get a superstar we just needed to find the right players to complement our superstars. Adding the depth at center allows the other players to play more their roles and strengths. And Washington just has to be more consistent than Grant Williams and play with desire and the difference grows even more.

And everyone on the team should be playing hungry now for that championship. There is a window opening. This team just needs to find itself, play together and let the intangibles of the game come to them.

Looking to say Cheers with meaning.

#DallasMavericks

[avengerscompound]

The Tower: Happily Ever After - 5

The Tower: Happily Ever After An Avengers Fanfic

Series Masterlist | Character Refrence PREVIOUS //

Pairing:  Avengers x OFC, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)

Word Count: 1601

Warnings:  Pregnancy

Synopsis: Almost 40 years after Elise Cooper first crashed into Natasha Romanoff outside the library at Columbia University, she and the Avengers are adapting to a near-immortal life together with their large brood of children.  Yet things aren’t perfect.  Life is moving on without them and they’re starting to discover who isolating being immortal can be.When Angela comes and asks Thor to take the throne of Asgard once more, the group leaves Earth in the hopes that they will find their Happily Ever After there.

Chapter 5: Farewell to Our Old Life

It was kind of strange how little there was to organize for us regarding our move.  There was packing, but we couldn’t exactly hire a moving truck so it needed to fit in bags that we could carry or it had to stay behind.  That was difficult.  We had had a long time to collect a lot of things we considered precious to us.  The glass artwork that Thor and I had inadvertently made on our honeymoon was the thing I wished we could bring the most.  It would stay in the fountain in the entry and hopefully, we’d come back sometimes and see it.

Thankfully, most of our things were fairly portable.  We also wouldn’t need a lot of clothes because Asgard would provide things more fitting for the palace, and it’s not like we would need any furniture.  Mostly it was just personal effects and tech that Tony wanted to use there.

Other than that it was just letting the doctors know I was leaving, pulling Marya out of school, and organizing the party.

It was still leaning on the stressful side though - especially considering we were still waiting to hear what the rest of the kids were going to do.

Even though Rose and Paul had appeared closest to deciding to come, it was Billy and Teddy who came back to us first with a yes.  They had also said they wanted to do a bonding ceremony when we were there, which added another level of excitement and another level of stress.

Rose and Paul came next.  They said that they would try it out and see.  The concern about their children’s lifespan was a big issue for them, but Paul also said he’d be crazy to give up at least trying to live on Asgard as actual royalty.

As expected it was Eddie who took the longest to decide.  He really did love his job, and I think even with his talk about having children, he, Lyra, and Rory were still right into the rich, young party lifestyle.  He was worried about what they’d lose going to Asgard, rather than focusing on the things he might gain. 

No one pressured him though.  Any questions the three had were answered as honestly as we could and if we didn’t know we’d send word back to Asgard and Loki would come and give the answers they were looking for if at all possible.  Eventually, he decided that he’d give it six months for us to settle and make sure things with Stark Industries and the Avengers was transitioning smoothly given our sudden departure, and then he and his family would join us there to try it out.  He mentioned maybe doing six months on each planet or returning to Earth for a month or two every year, but we were all just glad he was willing to try it out, and his delayed departure from Earth was a good idea.  He even promised to come and visit when his new siblings were born.

When our goodbye party began, the whole family was excited for this new chapter in our lives and sad to say goodbye to the last.

Many of our friends were elderly or had passed on, so the party was going to be a mixture of different people.  Clarke was still around, though Jax had passed a few years ago.  We’d lost Rhodey and Fury, though Hill was still running the day-to-day operations of the Avengers, even in her old age, and Coulson had retired after years as successfully being director of SHIELD.  Vision was the same as ever, and people often came to him for direction when it came to the Avengers.  Carol also hadn’t changed though she still spent more time in space than on Earth.  A lot of the people we had met that had seemed so young when we met them, were all not officially middle-aged.  Even Peter Parker who was only fifteen when I met him was now pushing fifty and had a wife and daughter of his own.

They would all be at the party, including a lot of the new Avengers lineup.  Most of whom were much heavier hitters than any of us, even when we were wielding Mjolnir.  It was definitely going to be sad to say goodbye.

“It’s going to be okay, you know?”  Wanda said, snapping me out of my mini-trance as she ran a brush methodically through my hair.

“No, I know,” I said, tilting my head back.

“Then tell your brain that,” she teased.

I giggled and leaned up and pecked her lips.  “I’m sorry.  I would if I could.  Just hormones I guess.  Feeling stressed.”

“Well, stop it,” she scolded playfully.  “It’s bad for the babies.”

She began to braid my hair and I hummed as her fingertips grazed over my scalp.  “Imagine it though, Elly,” Wanda said.  “All the kids nearby - the new babies.”

“You’re a baby-oholic,” I said, laughing softly.

“It’s true,” she says.  “I am.”

She ran a hand around my side and pressed it on my stomach.  “I can’t wait to meet them,” she said.  “They already have such busy thoughts.”

I looked up at her and I’m not sure whether it was the look of pure and complete love in her eyes or the way the light caught in her hair, but I was struck by how beautiful she was and how much I loved her.  She smiled and pressed a kiss to my forehead.  “I love you too,” she said and picked up a strand of silver wire with black opal and threaded it into my hair.  “All done.”

I stood carefully and straightened out the skirts on my blue lace cocktail dress.  “How do I look?” I asked.

“Perfect as always,” she said.  “Let's go say goodbye to our friends.”

We made our way down to the party deck where the party was only just starting up.  Bruce, Steve, and Clint were all already there, but there was no sign of Tony, Natasha, Clint, Sam, Thor, or Bucky.

Some of our kids were there and their kids all played out in the garden atrium that was built on the protruding wing of the tower and the party deck opened out into.  I greeted everyone and as I made my way around the room more people arrived.

Clarke came over and tapped me on the shoulder.  I turned and smiled, hugging her tightly.  She had aged well, not as well as I had obviously, but while her face was lined and she was a little frailer looking, she had kept in good shape and she continued to color her hair.  It would be easy to think she was in her early fifties rather than her mid-seventies.  Her eyes were what gave it away.  What had once been vivid violet had faded to pale lavender and were slightly cloudy.  They were heavily lined at the corners, the years having carved deep crevices to mark each time she was happy or sad or angry or worried.  It was still my Clarke though and I was going to miss her.

“I can’t believe you’re not going to be here when these two are born,” she said, indicating to my stomach as we pulled apart.  She was one of the select group of people I would be totally fine with touching my stomach unasked - but she never assumed.  “Where am I going to get my baby kisses from?”

I laughed and shook my head.  “I guess you’ll have to visit me on Asgard.”

“You can do that?”  She asked.

“I mean… I’m the Queen.  I think I can pull some strings,” I teased.

She laughed.  “God, thinking of you as a Queen is such a trip.”

“Hey Auntie Clarke,” Billy said, appearing behind us.  “I haven’t seen you for a while.”

Clarke hugged him and looked around.  “It’s been too long.  Where are those kids of yours.”

“Come on, I’ll take you to them,” he looked over at me and narrowed his eyes.  “You go sit down, mom.  You know you’re supposed to be taking it easy.”

“I am taking it easy,” I argued, holding up my hands.  “I’m just standing here.”

“Go on,” he said.  “Don’t make me page Dad Tony.”

“Heaven forbid,” I laughed and he wrinkled his nose at me and led Clarke out to the atrium.  I got myself a little plate of appetizers and a glass of punch and went and took a seat.

It wasn’t long until the whole room was teeming with people.  The Avengers had gotten to be a rather large collection of people since the original six had been reluctantly dragged together all those years ago.  Having so many of the people who meant so much to all of us here at the same time couldn’t help but make me think about how I’d first joined this group that would one day be my family.

All those years ago I had been a traumatized woman in her mid-twenties, just trying to get by.  I didn’t have many good friends, because it took a lot for me to trust people.  It took a superhero to get through and with her, so many other people flooded in after.  I was so grateful to them, and so in love with each of them to this day.  It would be hard letting this life of ours go, but it was inevitable.  I still had my 9 chosen people though, and I always would.  I was glad to be taking this next step with them at my side.

// NEXT

[nerdy-bits]

The Unspoken Rules of Stealth Games

I love stealth games. They are my absolute jam. I’ve been an Assassin’s Creed acolyte from the beginning and Splinter Cell rests firmly atop my list of favorite franchises. The industry isn’t flooded by this genre, but there are a fair number of quality contenders. The Dishonored games are a tour de force, I love the critically mixed Deus Ex prequels deeply, I only play Far Cry with my knife and bow, Ghost Recon is a kind of comfort food, even in Uncharted 4 I avoided combat in favor of being a sneak. In fact, really the only thing I like more than stealth gameplay is cooperative stealth gameplay (though I am a sucker for tactics games). There is just something about clearing a room with a friend, no enemy wise to your presence. Splinter Cell has brilliant co-op. Far Cry is at its best when your crew chooses the silent approach, one friend getting dirty up close with a blade while a ranger picks off sentries, putting arrows between armor plates. 

Most stealth games though, avoid multiplayer completely. I frequently lament that I can’t take out targets as agents 47 and 46. Most of these games, to me, feel like they would be better with a friend. Now a part of that is certainly because most things are better with friends but, secondarily, these games are difficult. Having a friend to help could both ease the game of chess you play in every encounter or allow creators to add differing levels of complexity. 

I could talk about the possibilities for, maybe literally, days. But that’s not what I’m here to talk about. At least not today. If very few stealth franchises build out co-op experiences, a fraction of those games create adversarial multiplayer. Splinter Cell has tried it. Spies vs Mercs, a mode that pitches Splinter Cell agents against NPC-esque mercenaries, leverages darkness and verticality against mercs with flashlights. It’s, as I previously described, brilliant. By pitting factions against each other with different abilities to navigate the gamespace, adhering to the stealth game loop is the only thing that gives the spies an advantage. 

Assassin’s Creed also dabbled in multiplayer. Both PvP and PvE. The latter, while promising, fell victim to the extremely buggy launch of Assassin’s Creed Unity. Network issues, net code issues, strange pop-in, the experience was fractured from the start. The former, PvP variant, was introduced with the release of AC Brotherhood. Across a handful of game modes, and choosing between an impressive lineup of characters, players hunted each other down across crowded maps utilizing a number of distractive, offensive, and defensive abilities. 

The Brotherhood multiplayer was great in the first few weeks, but as time progressed players became savvy to the underlying systems and within months of release the idea of “Stealth” all but disappeared. The reasons, I believe, are perhaps why so many stealth games leave this feature off of the list: Balance and participation.

A few weeks ago Hood: Outlaws and Legends came out and a group of friends and I grabbed it up. At only thirty dollars it was kinda hard not to just grab it and give it a shot. Hood takes place in the Robin Hood universe (mythos?) and tasks players to cooperatively - stealthily - infiltrate an area, track down the Sheriff, pickpocket a vault key from him, and then abscond with the loot in said vault. It’s like Payday with a bow and arrow. 

Pulling off these heists is actually pretty fun. The PvE (versus AI only) mode allows you to dig into the mechanics of the game while working out the kinks in your team communication. Before long we were complimenting well placed shots and perfect dual takedowns as we carved our way to our prize. The formula is solid, if a bit repetitious. The requirements don’t change at all between maps. The location of the vault chest will move around from heist to heist, but that is really it; and after a few rounds we had grown a bit too familiar with the process. The game also randomly chooses the maps in this mode, so we ended up playing two maps in three games, which was a bit of a bummer. Also your XP gain is dramatically limited in this AI centered mode, which pushed us quickly into the game’s core mode: heists against competing human players.

The formula doesn’t really change for this PvPvE mode, save the fact that at the same time you are hunting for the Sheriff, his key, and then the vault, another team is as well. Initially the prospect of this dynamic was interesting, but pretty quickly it devolved.

This was when I realized multiplayer stealth is critically dependent on its players participating in the right way. Now some games incentivize this participation or choose to restrict your abilities altogether. Think AC: Brotherhoods scoring system for kills which took points from you for being loud or conspicuous. Spies vs Mercs restricts teams abilities based on their faction. Mercs literally cannot hide in the dark. Spies will not win a gunfight. 

Hood doesn’t really build any advantage or disadvantages into its gameplay loop. We started our first round of PvPvE and began to sneak around the map the same way we were in the PvE mode. Being seen by guards locks the area you are in down. They close all the gates and begin hunting for you. Against AI this was a paradigm shift. The whole group has to go into ghost mode or just shelter in place until the heightened awareness drips away with the invisible clock. In multiplayer you get notified if your opponents incur a lockdown. This is done presumably to give you a brief jolt of encouragement. Thoughts dart across your mind, “They are locked down, they got caught, we have a few minutes to creep ahead and really gain an advantage. 

Only that wasn’t the case. 

Ryan and I stopped playing the Brotherhood multiplayer a few months in. It was nearly impossible to play the game by its own rules. Shooting a target with your wrist mounted pistol was always the worst way to pull off a kill, but useful if your target just kept evading you. You received a meager serving of points and would move back into the crowd in an attempt to reestablish yourself as an agent of stealth. By the end of the first month people were sprinting across rooftops, shooting down into the crowd, and then running off to do it again. They had discovered that if you ran around on the rooftops it didn’t raise your profile and that picking off a target from a rooftop with a gun, the penalty wouldn’t be enforced unless you killed a second target. First kills in this method would rack around 1800 points, the second kill a measly 300 (the numbers may be way off here, its been years. It’s the proportion that’s important. 

The second kill was the system working, discouraging loud tactics with point penalties. But if you went and hid, let the system time out, and then did it again, you could farm high point value kills in perhaps the least clandestine way possible. Brotherhood became a shooting gallery. It was absolutely untenable. Assassin’s Creed would get away from adversarial multiplayer after Black Flag. I barely returned for Revelations. 

As we were creeping through the bushes in a castle courtyard, our band of merry thieves, we got the first notification that our opponents had triggered an alarm. A wave of relief hit the crew. We’ve got some time. Then the second notification came, then the third, then a fourth. Our relief was subsumed by a revelation: they are just ignoring the stealth altogether. What followed was a painfully reminiscent race to the objectives ignoring area guards altogether (If a gate got dropped each team had a character that could just lift the gate). Our opponents got the key first, found the vault first, and moved the prize first. Each time we got close we were either picked off by a camping Robin, thatching us through the reeds with pinpoint accuracy, or we got bodied by the two melee characters Tooke and John.

Dying, spawning, and running back to the objective is a drag in any game. In a game where you have to make a getaway, every second you have to run back to the last place you saw the objective is a second of distance they get to make. Combat felt clunky and secondary to a stealth system that had been completely abandoned. Knowing that your opponent trips an alarm is incredibly useful, but knowing when they got the key, that they had found the vault, and having a tracker for how far the chest was moving was a bit much. I kept thinking about how much cooler it would have been if we had found the Sheriff only to discover the key was already gone. Imagine coming across a vault that had been looted already, your team scrambling desperately to find out how far their opponents had gotten. 

Still, none of this works players don’t abide by an invisible set of rules, therefore relying on those rules just ends up feeling like a mistake. A private lobby with eight people, all who agree to be stealthy is one thing, hoping that the community at large adopts that mindset is, ever more clearly, dependent on systems. The question is, in an industry that builds to player’s fantasies of power, how do you implement these systems and simultaneously empower players while also guiding their play-style along the path you desire?

How do you penalize running around like Rambo adequately? How do you incentivize stealth to make it the only way players want to engage?

@LubWub ~Caleb

[saiilorstars]

Dare To Forget Me

Ch. 30: There For Her 

Previous chapters // Montserrat's masterlist

Fandom: SVU // Pairing:  Rafael Barba x OFC

Warnings: Due to the nature of the series’ plots, I do have to rate this as ‘mature’ for constant mentions of rape.

Taglist: @ocfairygodmother @anotherunreadblog @maaaaarveeeeel​ @stareyedplanet @perfectlystiles @averyhotchner [If you’d like to be added to this specific OC’s stories/edits, send me a message!]

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Chapter Summary: Things couldn't seem to be going worse for Montserrat. At least she has Rafael with her, though he's struggling at the moment too considering he can't shake off the other woman who won't stop calling him.

Montserrat's presence in the bullpen was immediately question when she walked in that morning. "I mean, you could try saying 'good morning'," her sarcasm seemed to be completely intact. She let her things drop on her desk before giving each of her co-workers a look for their bombardment of questions. "That hasn't gone out of style."

"We just figured you wouldn't show up for a few days," Fin said what everyone else was thinking.

"I want to keep my job and besides...these days where I have been gone...have been way too hard," she took a seat and scooted closer to her desk. "I think a little distraction might be good."

"But is your brother okay, then?" Amanda inquired.

"Calhoun is trying to sort things out with the evidence that Damian supplied her with. Maybe by the end of the day...my brother might be out," Montserrat's small smile was still so full of hope the others wished she was right. "But tell me how's Nick?"

"He's been arraigned," Olivia answered and soon the grimness started spreading to the rest of the squad. "1PP won't budge and none of us have $500,000 lying around."

"The judge seriously posted that as his bail?" Montserrat gaped. "That's outrageous! Not to mention, ridiculous?"

"Yeah, well, they're pinning it on the fact this isn't Nick's first offence," Sonny shook his head. "And Murphy isn't trying to do much for him."

"Hm, so now you're not really liking him either," Montserrat found a moment to smirk.

"He's not letting us help by investigating!" Sonny exclaimed in frustration. "We're just supposed to sit here and continue our work as if our friend isn't in trouble."

"Speaking of work…" Montserrat turned her chair to the others, "Not that I'm moving on from Nick, but...I heard we caught a new case? International vic?"

"Yeah, not really going anywhere though," Amanda bitterly remarked as she opened up her laptop. "Our vic was scammed by a girl and her pimp. Hans Erhard was a tourist from Germany and he answered a Craigslist for a New York girlfriend experience."

"We have both the girl and her pimp in custody but none of them are talking," Olivia shook her head.

"Can I take a crack at it?" Montserrat's question was so volunteering that it really sounded as if she was just her regular self. "I mean, maybe a fresh new detective?"

"Well how about you catch up on it first?" Murphy had walked into the bullpen with a coffee in hand. "Welcome back, detective. How's your brother?"

"As well as he could be in jail," Montserrat sighed and pushed herself up from her desk. "But this case...what do you have for me to review?"

Murphy directed her to their pinboard in the conference area. The good thing about Montserrat was that she really did catch on fast. In thirty minutes she knew exactly what they were dealing: two scammers looking for a quick buck in innocent tourists. Ellie Porter, the girl they'd brought in, was still waiting for a legal aid while her pimp - Little Tino - was already talking with his lawyer to get him out.

While the squad discussed their next plans, a tall dark-haired man in a nice suit walked in. By the briefcase he carried, it was presumed that he was a lawyer, later confirmed when he spoke up. "I'm looking for Ellie Porter. Sorry I'm late. I just caught the case."

"I thought you said you were waiting for her public defender?" Montserrat turned to the rest for some answers.

"We were," Fin answered while keeping his eyes keenly on the new man.

Olivia walked over to him, looking pretty comfortable in his presence but not very happy to see him. "Uh, guys,meet Trevor Langan. He's a, uh, high-priced mouthpiece for lowlifes."

Langan didn't seem the least bit offended by the introduction. In fact, he had something to add on. "And you, once. How soon we forget."

His words instigated some confusion amongst Montserrat, Sonny and Amanda but Fin motioned them not to even ask.

"It's nice to see you, detective," Langan offered a genuine smile at Olivia, leading the newer detectives to conclude he wasn't their typical Buchanan or even Calhoun type of lawyer.

"It's actually sergeant now," Olivia corrected. "So what, you caught a pro bono?"

"Yeah. Do a few of them a year. It keeps me an honest lawyer."

"An oxymoron," Murphy walked out of the office to find the new lawyer.

"Uh, this is our new C.O., Lieutenant Murphy," Olivia introduced.

"Wow. A lot of changes around here," Langan eyed the trio of detectives before giving Murphy a side-glance. Ultimately, he returned his gaze to Olivia with a different type of expression. One could say it was more caring than any other lawyer the squad had seen in the precinct. "And, uh...you, are you doing okay with, uh…everything?"

Olivia gave a nod of her head and made to turn. "Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks."

Murphy led Langan away so he could speak with Ellie.

"He's tall," Amanda remarked.

"Yeah, like that's a skill set," Olivia returned to her seat at the conference table.

"And good looking," Montserrat had to add which immediately earned her a disapproving look from Olivia. "Sorry, you two have history or what?"

Olivia humorlessly laughed. "I don't date lawyers."

"Since when?" Amanda then asked which silenced Olivia and left quite a few unanswered questions for Montserrat.

A few hours later, they had Ellie and Tino in lineups for Hans to ID.

"You okay?" Olivia asked Rafael when the ADA strode into bullpen. He'd come to oversee the lineups but he didn't appear to be his regular self.

"What? I'm fine," he said dismissively but the more he tried to be casual the less successful he was.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," Montserrat noticed his grim face that also seemed pale for some reason. "I'm the one whose brother's in jail, why are you so upset?"

Rafael wouldn't answer. He looked to the side and all but puffed. It was a strange sight to see him so...shaken, because that's exactly what he looked like right now. His fingers twitched even though they were inside his pockets. His eyes couldn't seem to find a spot to look at for more than a few seconds.

"Get the lineup started," he told (or rather ordered) Olivia after a few pensive seconds.

Olivia blinked and cast a look at the rest of the squad. "Uh, okay…" she rose from her seat and headed for the corridor.

"You sure you good, councilor?" Sonny asked after a few seconds of watching Rafael continue to shift in his spot.

"Yes, now stop pestering me about irrelevant things." Now granted, his snap did sound like himself but his overall appearance was more than enough to think the contrary.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today," Amanda muttered to the others as she got up.

"For that to happen, he'd actually have to sleep…" Montserrat of course expected a snap for her remark, but it never came. She frowned but before she could point out his lack of participation in their usual go, Olivia returned and announced that the lineup ready to go.

"You sure you're good?" Montserrat still managed to ask before Rafael had to follow after Olivia.

"Yes," he answered in a rushed manner, almost as if the faster he answered the quick they would all just move on from it. Well, Montserrat wasn't going to risk getting yelled at for asking again.

Hand Erhard had arrived a few minutes later, with crutches and a bruised face, and headed directly for the lineup. He recognized Ellie straightaway, but when it came to Tino...it was a miss.

"You need to start seeing Ellie as a victim," Langan trailed after Olivia when the lineup had finished, but the sergeant looked close to throwing him out. "She was pimped out at 16-"

"-she tried to pull a gun on Murphy," Olivia reminded him.

"Yeah, coerced by her pimp!"

Before the argument went further, Montserrat distanced herself due to her ringing phone. "It's Calhoun," she told the others before taking the call. Hope immediately filled her face as she answered Calhoun. Her brother could finally leave that hellhole and return to his normal life. "Tell me when I can pick him up."

But just as hope had filled her in seconds, it vanished in the same speed. If Rafael had been pale before, Montserrat beat him no questions asked. She was as white as a sheet. "What-what do you mean…?" her voice had turned frail, even her body looked as if she was swaying.

The others began to assume what Rita was telling the detective on the other line. But just like that, Montserrat bolted into a run, almost shoving Fin to the side in her run.

"Hey!?" the poor detective was left to call as he stumbled to stay on his feet.

"Something's wrong," Sonny assumed and hurried after Montserrat, prompting the others to do the same.

Montserrat had come back to the conference table where their television was on and scrambled to pick up the remote with one hand while still holding onto her phone in her other hand. She'd turned the television on and flipped to the news channel where an ongoing report was airing.

'The Florence Commercial building that collapsed two days ago has now claimed its first deaths,' the reporter was in the middle of saying, 'Two victims have been reported as deceased after being hospitalized for severe injuries…'

Montserrat fervently shook her head as if that would make it all go away. "What does that mean!?" she demanded from Rita on the phone. While the others couldn't hear Rita's words, they could pretty much assume the situation. By the time Montserrat hung up, she was ready to fall back. And seeing that prompted Sonny to pull up a chair right behind her. She fell back on it with ease, making the others wonder what would've happened if there hadn't been a chair there in the first place.

"They're going to treat this as hom...homicide…" she barely got the wretched word out. It was too disgusting.

"But you said Damian had the evidence…" Sonny said, but Montserrat shrugged in the same confusion he had.

"Everything changes when someone dies," Rafael said quietly. He looked at the others and willed them to remember their own cases and what typically happens when they had a homicide-rape on their hands.

"What the hell am I supposed to do? He's being arraigned this afternoon and then there's going to be a trial date? As if he's an actual criminal?" Montserrat frantically started to ramble. "I've got nothing to help him with. That evidence should've been enough, I…" she shook her head and let a hand cover her quiet sobs. "It should've been enough, it should've..."

The others exchanged looks with each other, all deciding they needed to help her stat. She was right in that the evidence should've been enough to get Gael out, but as Rafael pointed out...things got more complicated once there was murder. Still, it didn't mean it was impossible to prove Gael's innocence.

"Montserrat," Rafael was the one to cut the silence as he moved to Montserrat's chair. He bent down in front of her when she refused to look at anyone. "We can't help you if you don't let us," he said harsher than he would've liked, but then again that's really the only way she'd listen right now.

Montserrat only slightly lowered her hand but it was enough to showcase her reddened eyes. It was honestly a whole other side of her that neither Rafael nor the others had ever seen. "I can't do anything, weren't you listening?"

"Yes, and I think that you did the fatal mistake of listening to yourself," Rafael's counter-argument had her frowning in confusion. "You are a detective. Finding evidence is your job. That's all this is right now: you going back and finding evidence."

"Yeah except I'm usually the one who proves they're guilty," Montserrat sighed a shaky sigh.

"It doesn't mean you'd do your job worse. So listen, everyone here-" Rafael made a gesture at the others keenly watching him, "-is willing to help you but it will not make a difference if you've given up already."

"It's not that I've given up it's that…" Montserrat scrunched her face the more she tried to come up with a perfect way of describing how she felt, but all that came out was an exclaim that sounded more like a child's cry. "Dammit, Rafael, my brother's in jail and I feel like my world is crashing down on me!" Her look of anger on him didn't bother him in the least.

"And being hopeless is going to help you how?" his answer seemed to be upsetting her more.

"Councilor-" Sonny tried to intervene but Rafael pointed a finger for him not to even try interrupting. Sonny retracted his step and looked at the others with an 'I tried' expression.

However, his attempt to intervene did make Rafael realize he wasn't getting this whole 'comfort' thing. It was frustrating, honestly, because he wanted to help Montserrat. He wanted to ease her pain as much as he could but every time he opened his mouth he just made it worse. He'd never been good at that stuff. He never knew what to do.

He looked at Montserrat again, this time forcing any snaps at mind to stay away. She was still giving him that angry expression he was all too familiar with. "What time is he being arraigned?"

"Two o'clock," she answered but the mere reminder of what was to come forced most of the anger to fade from her face. New tears were threatening to roll down her face.

There came a relentless urge to hold her. It took everything he had not to do it. "I'll come with you to arraignment. We'll see exactly what Gael is being charged with and then we can work from there, okay?"

Montserrat nodded her head. "Okay. Will you actually come?"

Rafael smiled and gave her a tilted-head look. "When do I ever joke?" Now it was Montserrat's turn to smile, even if it was just for a second he would take it.

The others felt like they were witnessing something private that they needed to walk away from, but Montserrat unknowingly beat them to it. She pushed herself up from her chair and straightened herself up. She rubbed her face clear of any tears and took in a deep breath. "Okay fine. The Manhattan D.A wants a fight, I'll give them one. Hell, they've never had 2 Novaks and Calhoun all going against them, have they?"

"No," answered Rafael as he, too, straightened on his feet. "And I'd honestly wish them luck, but that wouldn't necessarily be true would it?"

"Listen, Montserrat, why don't you go and see Casey?" Fin suggested and looked back into the hallway where Olivia and Langan were still at. "We'll explain to Liv and Murphy. It's not like they'd say no."

"Honestly I'm a little fearful for the future of my job," Montserrat admitted, but even then it was evident that she would be leaving anyways. "I've been away too much…"

"Hey, we got this," Amanda assured her.

Montserrat agreed with a nod of her head and went to collect her things. It felt ridiculous that she'd just came back to work and was already taking off again but at the same time...her brother needed her. She couldn't be too far away.

"For the rest of you," Rafael looked at the remaining group with an expression akin to irritation, "You've got almost next to nothing on the Hans Erhard rape. One I.D. and it's not even the rapist."

"Are you feeling better now?" Amanda's sarcasm, that included a sarcastic smile, earned herself a glare from the ADA.

"Get something more or the case dies," he left it at that and it was only because he felt the buzz of his phone in his pocket. Soon as he took it out and saw the text message on the screen, his face turned pale again and his fingers seemed to start twitching again. He was nervous. "I have to go," he said in a mutter and made a hasty way out.

Can we have lunch today? - Yelina.

As much as he hated to, Rafael responded with a 'yes' because if he continued to say no, and blow her off, she would just come back to her office. Maybe if he had let her talk the night she appeared in his office, he wouldn't be having lunch with her now.

"You look like you've seen a ghost again," Montserrat's voice pulled Rafael's face from his phone. She was waiting for the elevator to arrive. "Which is funny because I've never seen you go that shade of color. Let me in on the secret so I can use it for later." He rolled his eyes but somewhere inside her playfulness alleviated some of his stress.

The elevator dinged and its doors slid open. Montserrat stepped inside first and waited for Rafael to follow before pressing the down button.

"Montserrat, I need to...apologize," Rafael suddenly started. Montserrat's side-glance was one akin to 'the hell are you talking about?' while he went on. "I'm not very good with...comfort words." And even now it was easy to see the struggle for Rafael to even say that. It was amazing yet ridiculous that he wasn't good with words around her, but he could easily have the right words to prosecute low-lives. Montserrat would do that to him a lot, make him question the simplest of actions he would usually take in other situations where she wasn't involved. But for Montserrat right now it was the funniest thing she ever saw on him. "I don't do a lot of comfort. And I know half of what I told you earlier was done in snaps-"

Montserrat had suddenly turned and hugged him. It was a tight hug that she'd been wanting ever since hell started with her brother's arrest, but she hadn't been brave enough to go for it. Right now, she just couldn't be bothered with the process of thinking 'should I or should I not?'. She let her chin rest on his shoulder. "You're doing just fine."

A small smile came to Rafael's face. His arms wrapped around her waist and held her tight. A few seconds later, one of his hands traveled up to her fiery hair and let his fingers stroke through her waves. Her hair was incredibly soft he imagined what it would be like running his hands through the rest of it somewhere else, somewhere nicer and private. You have to stop right there, he berated himself.

If only he knew how much his gentle touch affected her. Montserrat felt a wave of calmness wash over her within seconds of his first stroke. She wanted to him to keep holding her and just hear from him that everything was going to be fine. But she felt the elevator come to a stop, warning the two that the doors would be opening soon.

Montserrat pulled away just enough to where Rafael could still hold onto her. "You'll come to arraignment?" she asked as if she was scared that he had already changed his mind.

Rafael reassured her with a nod. "Of course. I'll be there." He brought a hand to rest on her cheek, and even when the elevator doors, his founds soothed small circles over er skin. "I promise you I'll be there."

A relieved smile spread across Montserrat's face. "Thank you. Really. You really are doing just fine." She turned away and left the elevator first, but the moment she was out her skin where his fingers had been ached for his soft touch.

Okay, maybe she felt a little better…

~0~

Alright. In and out. In and Out. Rafael was as confident as he could be when he took a seat across the woman he'd been avoiding with great difficulty. "Alright, I'm here. Let's get to it."

Yelina was no stranger to dirty looks anymore, not after the scandal that practically tore her family apart. She'd been subjected to doubtful and condescending stares, angry snaps, and the old fashion cold shoulder. But none of that she expected from Rafael. It certainly didn't make her decision to reach out to him seem like the best option, but she had a good motive.

"I'm sorry if I'm bothering you," she finally spoke a few minutes, but she noticed Rafael constantly looking around the restaurant as if they were doing something wrong. "I didn't really know what to do…"

"Really? And of all people to talk to, you chose me?"

Yelina tilted her head at him, genuinely looking upset. "Why are you treating me like this?" The choice of her softened tone almost made Rafael do a double-take at her.

"Are you - are you kidding me!?" he snapped on instinct. Not even her flinch made any effect to stop him. Actually, it might have angered him more seeing her try to be so innocent. "Do you not remember what happened? Because you do remember the part where you warned me to back off when they were investigating Alex? I had Alex on the other side going on about me trying to bring him down out of jealousy. So excuse me if I'm a little upset that now you want to act like nothing happened."

"...fair enough," Yelina released a sigh. "I didn't know that was how I came across…"

"Really?" Rafael nearly laughed. "Don't insult my intelligence, Yelina. Now can we get to the reason why you're here? Why I'm here? I have somewhere else to be."

"Please don't be this curt with me," Yelina's softness had disappeared, replaced with a more serious yet sharp expression. It was more like her, honestly. That look Rafael knew well. Whenever she was pissed off, that's the look you got. "It was hard swallowing my pride to call you and I want to believe that despite what happened...we can still be civilized friends."

"I don't know about that, to be honest." In another time, maybe Rafael would actually think about that idea, but for some reason there was no desire to stay in contact. At all. "You tried to manipulate me the last time we saw each other-"

Offense etched across Yelina's face at the accusation. "-I wasn't-"

"-yes, you were." And the worst part was, it hadn't even been him who saw it. He missed it because he - admittedly - had clung to the last bit of friendship he had with her, the last bit of nostalgia he had. Montserrat saw it, Rafael remembered perfectly the way in which he had snapped at Montserrat after she had made the comment. She'd only been looking out for him, like she always did even when he didn't deserve it. But that was Montserrat. She was always there.

"Rafael?" Yelina had been watching him for the minutes he spent in silence. There was a familiar look on his face but she didn't want to think about it too much, at least not now.

Her call did indeed pull Rafael back to the present. Soon as he was back he set for business, whatever that business might be anyways. "Why are we here?"

Yelina bit her tongue so as to not snap at his flat tone. "My husband is facing trial and God knows how many years."

"And? You're not seriously going to ask me to put in a good word for him, are you?"

"...maybe I just wanted to reach out to the only person who's willing to talk to me right now."

Rafael paused and gave her a strange look. "What?"

"You can imagine with all these accusations-"

"-and evidence," Rafael cut in with the truth, even if it did irritate her.

"Not a lot of people want anything to do with us, with me," the woman lowered her gaze. "I had to pull my daughters from their school. They're... they're the target for bullying, for hatred...I don't know what to do."

Dammit. She was being honest. She looked honest. And that's what made it difficult for Rafael to remain stoic. She could be playing tricks but right now she just looked vulnerable. In another time, that would've reeled him right to her. And the fact it didn't have the same effect right now was startling...in a good way though. It almost made him proud.

He felt the buzz of his phone in his pocket. While he checked who it was, he was aware of Yelina's hawk-stare.

Arraignment is in half an hour. Will you come? - Montserrat.

"Something important?" There was unmistakable sharpness in Yelina's question, or rather demand, and it kind of irritated him. Where did she get off being that demanding when he was doing her a favor by showing up to this awkward lunch.

"Yes, actually," Rafael sent back a quick 'yes' to Montserrat and stuffed his phone back into his pocket. "I need to go."

"We're not done," Yelina shook her head. "You haven't said anything to me except take jabs at my pain. I thought there was at least a shred of kindness you could offer me. Did I dare think too much? Is there nothing you can offer me now?" She reached her hand across the table to touch Rafael's.

The ADA flinched but he didn't pull his hand away. He was, admittedly, taken by surprise.

~0~

Montserrat was biting into her index nail to the point of drawing blood. Twice Casey had yanked Montserrat's hand down and shot her a look not to do it again.

"What are you, 5?" the ADA whisper-hissed. They were waiting in the hallway, just outside the arraignment room.

"I'm 30, stressed, and my brother's going to trial, so I will act anyway I want to!" Montserrat snapped and promptly stuck her nail between her teeth.

Casey groaned and rolled her eyes. She turned away and saw familiar figures coming down the hall towards them. "There's uncle Thomas. Least he's not alone either."

Montserrat followed her direction to see her father and Damian. "Dad," she went to hug him first.

"Hi sweetheart," Thomas hugged her tightly. He couldn't believe they were here. "How are you holding up?"

"Hm, as much as I can be," Montserrat bit her lower lip like it was gum.

"The girls, Juliana and Ivanna-"

"They're at school right now and Kara's picking them up. I'm taking care of them, Dad, I promise."

"I never said you weren't, dear. I just imagine it's difficult with your schedule…"

"I'm taking some time off."

"Again?"

Montserrat felt the underlying insinuation that she'd been missing too much work, but at the same time what was she supposed to do? Work like nothing while her brother faces criminal charges?

"It's fine, uncle Thomas," Casey said as she gave the man a quick hug. "The thing about being a cop and an ADA is that you don't have to explain a lot when you're out. People just think you're doing work."

"Or people think you're recusing yourself," a tall blonde woman appeared behind Thomas and Damian. The two men looked back then retracted the same steps so that the blonde could get through.

Soon as she saw her, Casey glared. "Geraghty," she practically spat the blonde's name out.

"I assume this is the family," Geraghty looked at the rest with icy blue eyes. "Since Casey had to recuse herself from the case due to, um, well…" her thin eyebrows twitched upwards.

"Because we're family," Casey said it just to end the woman's drama.

"Well, I'll be prosecuting the case. ADA Geraghty," she introduced herself but quickly moved into business. "You should know that I am going for reckless endangerment and Manslaughter."

"He's innocent," Montserrat said through gritted teeth, but Geraghty only smiled dismissively.

"I'll see you all in a bit," she moved on from the group and left a terse air behind.

"She seems...lovely…" Damian said quietly but Casey scoffed loudly.

"She's a bitch. And she's been after my job for a while. This is the first time I ever had to recuse myself from a case so of course she nabbed the job the moment she could."

"Casey I'm sorry," Thomas apologized but Casey scoffed again.

"Are you kidding me? Nothing will make me happier than to see her being forced to drop the charges when we prove Gael is innocent."

A short moment later, the doors were open for arraignments. Gael wouldn't be the first one to be brought out, so it left quite some time of waiting. And waiting meant a lot more thinking was done, leading to horrible thoughts.

"Did Calhoun say anything about her strategies?" Montserrat quietly asked Casey during their wait time at the benches. "I haven't been able to get in contact with her today even though I'm pretty sure I bombarded her phone with voicemails."

"Not really, but since we're on her side, it'll be good," Casey said with certainty Montserrat wished she had too.

When Gael's turn was nearing, the group decided to go inside and find a seat. The only reason Montserrat stayed behind was due to Sonny and Liv coming towards her.

"What are you guys doing here?" Montserrat blinked at their presence. "Murphy's going to have a fit when he realizes half of his employees are gone."

"Don't worry, he knows we're just here for the arraignment," Olivia said to ease the woman's concerns.

"And for anything you might need from us," added Sonny.

"Thanks," Montserrat sighed. She looked into the arraignment room with nothing but dread. "I don't know what's going to happen...the ADA is, as Casey put it, a bitch. So good luck to my brother."

"It'll be fine, c'mon," Olivia motioned Montserrat to go in first but Montserrat seemed to want to stay behind a bit longer.

"Do you need a moment?" assumed the Sergeant.

"Yeah, kinda," Montserrat nodded. It was enough to send the two in without more questions. Yes she did need a little break to herself but, if she was being honest, she was also making time.

He's late, she thought after checking the time. But even when she wanted to further fall, she berated herself. He's got things to do. Be glad he even offered to stop by. Montserrat closed her eyes for a moment, at least to calm herself down before she would have to go inside.

"Montserrat?" Rafael called when she turned for the doors. He picked up his pace to get to her on time. "I'm so sorry I'm late. I-I was…" He didn't quite want to finish that sentence for some reason, but thankfully Montserrat was overly relieved with his presence so she didn't question him at all.

"No, no! You're absolutely fine!" she exclaimed.

"We can go in whenever you're ready," Rafael made a gesture for the doors but watched her carefully for her reactions. Who knew, she might go in the opposite direction.

Montserrat took a deep breath and looked at the doors. "I gotta do it. My brother's the one in trouble. I can do this. Course I can. I can…"

When she started rambling on about the same thing, Rafael knew she was in the process of backing out. He couldn't blame her. But he did know that if she actually backed out and missed her brother's arraignment, she would never forgive herself.

"You need to go inside, Montserrat," he said softly. He met her nervous gaze and offered her an encouraging smile, and his hand.

She took his hand in a fast second. Then, with every bit of courage she owned, she led them into the arraignment room. It was just in time because Gael was being led out by one of the officers.

When the hell did Calhoun get in here!? Montserrat wondered, almost mad at herself for missing the woman. That's how absorbed she was in her own problems.

Rafael found them an open seat in the second row when Montserrat paused because her thoughts had gotten to her again. He didn't let her get away, though, and gently ushered her first.

"How does your client plead?" the judge was in the middle of asking when they finally sat down.

"Not guilty, your honor," Calhoun answered before Gael could even open his mouth. He was under strict orders not to talk at all. "The charges are seriously misplaced and when this is all over, Mr. Novak will be filing a lawsuit against 1PP and the DA's office."

"The charges of reckless endangerment and Manslaughter are hardly misplaced," Geraghty shot Calhoun an incredulous glare. But given the line of Calhoun's work, it was nothing more than a petty frown in her opinion.

"Save it for trial," the judge ordered the two women. "How are we on bail, Miss Geraghty?"

Geraghty straightened behind her spot. "Remand, your honor. The defendant has the means to flee what with his outstanding high paying job and double nationality with Slovakia."

"You have double nationality?" Rafael found himself asking Montserrat out of sheer curiosity.

Montserrat shrugged, indicating a 'yes'. "Dad's doing," she whispered. "If you have a parent from Slovakia you're eligible for dual citizenship. You want to go Slovakia some time?"

"Hm, how about we go to Cuba first?" He met her look with a smile and when she realized what they had said, she blushed and looked away.

This is not the time to do this, Montserrat, she berated herself. She forced her attention back on the arraignment and hoped to God Calhoun would come through for them this one time.

Calhoun scoffed at Geraghty's argument. "Oh please. My client is a single father of 2 girls who need him at home, not to mention he has Manhattan's own Homicide ADA Casey Novak and SVU Detective Montserrat Novak vouching for his presence. Believe me, he is not going anywhere."

"They are family," Geraghty shot Casey and Montserrat a specific look, almost accusatory. Montserrat wasn't in any condition to fight back, but Casey glared daggers back at the ADA. "And since they knew how the system works, I think remand is more than appropriate here."

Calhoun almost laughed in the woman's face. She rebutted like she normally would, only this time Montserrat was counting on her to make a damn good rebuttal that would allow her brother to come home today.

Without realizing it, Montserrat gripped Rafael's hand. She was over the top nervous and somewhere along the way, her hand had found his. She wasn't aware of it, but Rafael was. He felt the moment his hand was squeezed - which, honestly, showed she had tremendous strength - and so he did what he felt he should; what he wanted to. When she leaned on him (an attempt to listen better to Geraghty), he was just her rock, her support. He soothingly rubbed his fingers over her hand.

Sonny caught the two's closeness and couldn't help but feel a little proud that some sense had finally been knocked into them. Of course the feeling faltered when he noticed Damian's lingering look on pair. Oh right, it still pained Sonny having to keep that secret all to himself. It felt like a ticking time bomb.

~ 0 ~

"Do you have the money?" Calhoun stood in front of the group after arraignment. It was a win that remand had been discarded, however the bail money was now the issue considering it was a pretty high amount.

"No, but we'll make it work," Thomas looked at his daughter, both knowing they wouldn't have that type of amount between them.

"$50,000 is a pretty insane amount," Montserrat scowled, already mentally going through her back account to see how much she could put up.

"No it isn't," Calhoun gave her a tilted-head look. "You're just on the receiving end this time."

"Hey," Casey warned her not to even go down that road.

Calhoun raised her hands in defence. "I'm going to go find out when the court date but I suggest you don't keep him in there long. If anyone on the inside finds out he's related to an ADA and SVU detective, he's not going to be having fun."

"Maybe go for protective custody, then?" Montserrat's tone went flat, as did her face.

"What else do you think is on my to-do list?" Calhoun rolled her eyes and moved around the trio to leave.

"Are you sure she's going to help us?" Thomas was left asking.

"Don't worry Dad," Montserrat turned to her father with the best warm smile she could put on. "Calhoun is tough. She'll help us."

The trio rejoined the others near the elevator after Calhoun had left them.

"Hey, Calhoun seemed pretty sure of herself," Olivia said. "That's good."

"She's a shark," Rafael chimed in, not really sure if he was giving the woman a compliment or an insult. He wasn't used to having her on their side.

"Which means she'll do the job just fine," went Sonny.

"Now we just gotta focus on the bail money," Montserrat sighed. She dug her hands into her ginger curls, tugging on them. She might lose some hair in these next few weeks.

"Listen," Damian started, "I don't have a lot but I can put up 10 grand for the bail money."

"That's still a lot of money, Damian," Montserrat said. "I don't want you to use it all up on us. I'm sure Gael would agree."

Damien shook his head. "You're taking the money or we're going to argue over it." He gave her a smile that left no room for such arguments.

"Thanks," she hugged him.

"I can put up another 10," Casey said, breaking them apart. "I've not wasted money in a real good time considering I never have time to go out."

"I can put 15k," Thomas added. "Retirement savings. But I can get more, I'm sure. I just have to look more through my finances."

"That's $35,000," Montserrat drew in a deep breath then exhaled. "Maybe I can put up another 10. That'd just leave another 5 grand."

"We can't leave Gael in there for long," Damian said. "Why don't we get together and see if we can come up with the solution today?"

"Sounds good," Thomas agreed then looked at Montserrat.

"Go on, I'll catch up with you guys in a bit," she motioned them to get a head start.

"Thank you for coming," Thomas said to Olivia, Sonny and Rafael before leaving with Casey and Damien.

"He's right, thanks for coming," Montserrat sighed. "I'll report for work tomorrow. I promise."

"That's not necessary. You take your time out until this is solved," Olivia told her. She put a comforting hand on Montserrat's arm, offering one of her momma-bear smile that - admittedly - did make Montserrat feel a bit better. "We've got things at the precinct."

"Thanks," Montserrat said quietly. "Although honestly I don't know how long it'll be."

"Just focus on bail for now," Sonny advised. "Take it one bit at a time."

"I know but I just...I know that Casey, Dad, and Damian are putting up everything they have. Even though I'm going to put up what I have, it's not going to be enough. We're still going to be $5,000 short."

"You heard Carisi, take it one bit at a time," Rafael said. He did what Olivia had earlier and rested a hand on her arm, though Montserrat felt a lot more comfort with his touch than Olivia.

No offence to Olivia…

"Thanks for coming," Montserrat said, though there was a distinct possibility it had been only meant for Rafael this time round.

"Of course," he offered her a small smile, knowing nothing would be alleviating her pain right now. He had to come up with something to help her.

[howdoyousayghibli]

Miyazaki Finally Gives Up the Pretense, Makes Film About Man Who Draws Planes for a Living

“Spoiler culture” gets a lot of hate these days, and I get it. There’s a fine line between “how hard is it to not talk about the plot of a movie you just saw on social media” and “how hard is it to stay off social media for a little bit until you’ve seen the movie.”

I get the annoyance with spoiler culture, but I also remember the circumstances that led to our current situation. I remember the mid-2000s, when trailers had half the movie in them — and if that wasn’t enough, the movie’s official website usually went the rest of the way. I remember poring over detailed rosters of every character set to appear in an upcoming X-Men movie. Even Pixar fell into the over-sharing trap — The Incredibles villain Syndrome, who doesn’t appear until a good chunk of the movie has passed, had a bio on the official website with his “powers” and evil plan right there for 12-year-old Chase to read all about. 

This led to teenage Chase making a conscious decision to not seek out information about movies that he already wanted to see, a policy I still roughly adhere to today. My greatest success was with Ant-Man, which I managed to see in theaters without having seen a single trailer. Usually, though, it means I just stick to teaser trailers. 

This go-in-blind mentality is never easier than when writing these reviews, since there’s not exactly a marketing blitz, past or current, for Hayao Miyazaki’s The Wind Rises. So far, I think my policy of avoiding both trailers and reviews of these movies has served me well, helping me to form my own thoughts without being biased one way or another. Unfortunately, this policy may have done more bad than good with this particular movie.

The Wind Rises was released in 2013, and is (for now) the last film directed by Miyazaki. It’s a dramatized biopic of Jiro Horikoshi, designer of Japan’s infamous “Zero” fighter planes — but you wouldn’t guess that from the movie itself. Not knowing anything of the film going in, I assumed I was watching a historical drama, like From Up on Poppy Hill or Grave of the Fireflies. As such, I was confused at the pace of the movie, which skips freely through large portions of Horikoshi’s life. The rapid and largely unannounced jumps in time and the lack of chyrons made it difficult for me to get a handle on the time period — although I’ll admit it probably wouldn’t be nearly so difficult for someone native to Japan, who could likely guess closely enough from the clothes, architecture, and other context clues. 

Beyond being confused about the setting, though, my lack of foreknowledge of The Wind Rises left me confused about the story the movie was telling. When you know a story is based on true events, it changes how you experience it. Studio Ghibli already departs from traditional Western ideas of storytelling and structure, and when you throw real-world subject matter into the mix, it goes further afield still. 

This is all to say: I think I would’ve enjoyed The Wind Rises more if I’d understood what it was beforehand. It’s a bit like how I kept waiting for the magic to show up in Whisper of the Heart, only it was a bigger, structural issue — something just felt off, until I pulled up the movie’s Wikipedia page after it ended and suddenly things clicked into place. 

Is the movie at fault for not spelling out its premise? Even the trailer doesn’t mention that it’s based on a real person. More than ever, I think that cultural differences may play a role here. I get the feeling that Jiro Horikoshi is relatively well-known in Japan; it would make all the difference watching this movie if you were vaguely aware of Horikoshi’s name and achievements.

As for the movie itself: it’s breathtakingly beautiful. The animation is almost insultingly lavish, like the third dining room on an episode of Cribs. Horikoshi’s glasses distort your view of his face, just like in real life. There’s a close-up involving a moving slide rule that made me gasp with its detail. The Wind Rises portrays Horikoshi as a dreamer, and his dreams constantly leak into the world around him, to wondrous effect.

The audio work is similarly audacious. Horikoshi’s (and Miyazaki’s) infatuation with flying machines breathes life into them, reflected not only in the lively way they’re animated, but also in the choice to use human vocals for the sound effects. The planes literally hum, roar, and gasp — never quite approaching cartoonish personification, but instead letting us see them through the engineer’s eyes. 

Other aspects of The Wind Rises aren’t quite as thrilling. I think there’s something very worthwhile in the film’s message on trying to make something beautiful in a world bent on cruelty, but it’s a bit muddied by a strange insistence that creative people have only 10 years to produce their life’s work. It’s an oddly specific limit, made even odder by Miyazaki’s own prolific career — at the time of this film’s release, his directing career alone stretched over 34 years. This may sound like nitpicking, but the 10 years number basically bookends the film, so I feel justified in calling shenanigans. 

Equally odd is the film’s love story. While beautiful and charming at times, it ends on an strange and unsatisfying note that makes me question the purpose of including it at all; did they simply feel that they couldn’t make a whole movie only about designing planes? If so, they could’ve done more to integrate the two stories, especially since this plot line was already entirely fabricated. 

To end on a positive note: the voice cast for this film is impossibly stacked. You’ve got Horikoshi voiced by Joseph Gordon-Levitt, his work buddy voiced by John Krasinski, his boss voiced by Martin Short, Emily Blunt as his love interest, Mae Whitman as his little sister, Werner Herzog as his random German friend, Stanley Tucci as his Italian dream-friend, Zach Callison as young Horikoshi, and Elijah Wood in a role so small I literally can’t figure out what it was. It should be difficult to pick a favorite among such a lineup — and they all do great work here — but the runaway winner is, of course, Werner Herzog. The raspy voice and dry humor he brings to the sympathetic Castorp are a highlight of an already beautiful movie. 

I fully expect that, when I read other reviews of The Wind Rises, they will have only the highest praise for it. I can see where they’re coming from; this is a movie with breathtaking visuals, an innovative soundscape, a moving message, and talented cast. For me, however, those individual elements aren’t brought together in the service of a compelling story.

Up Next: The Tale of Princess Kaguya! It’s the last film directed by the late Isao Takahata and I’m ready to be emotionally destroyed. It’s also the second-to-last Ghibli movie (as of 2019), which is wild! Will I finish these reviews before the year ends?? The suspense is killing me!

Alternate Titles: The Wind Rises: Because No One Wanted to Put Poppy Hill on Their Best-of-the-Decade Lists

[marvelmadam08]

A Winter’s Song

Chapter 4/?

Synopsis: Sky has to return to work, pretending she has no idea what's going on. With Bucky watching her from a distance.

Warnings: Sexual tension

Lying wasn't an issue for Sky, she's done it a few times even when she didn't want to. But pretending that she didn't witness a murder at her place of work was going to be a challenge.

"What if someone kills me before I can even set for in my dressing room?" Sky asks Natasha, Bucky had gone ahead to find a way in the club and stay hidden for majority of the day and evening

"Barnes won't let that happen."

"You know he was watching me sleep last night?"

"His methods are unconventional." Natasha turned onto the street leading up to the club

"Yeah but... He's done this before?" Sky feels her stomach twisting in knots, however she wasn't sure if it was in anticipation for Natasha's answer or because they were approaching the place where she witnessed a murder.

"He takes his assignments seriously."

"Of course." Sky nods watching Natasha drive pass the club "You missed the stop."

"Dropping you off in a car that your bosses have never seen before will raise suspicion." She pulled off to the side in front of a closed food market. "Remember act as if everything is normal. If anyone asks you any questions, you know nothing."

"Right." Sky nods again "And Barnes is already inside?"

"He'll have eyes on you, but you won't see him. If anything goes wrong he'll pull you out of there."

Sky felt her brain rattle from how much she was nodding and gave Natasha a thumbs up before getting out the car. Her legs were shaky same as her breathing, she could blame that in the declining weather; New York during autumn was anything but warm. Approaching the club, Sky greeted the two bouncers at the door, doing her best to sound as normal as possible. If it were possible the inside of the club seemed colder than the outside, people moved about normally, carrying in crates of liquor and food. The stage hands were testing out lights, making Lucy groan when they would shut off a light she needed while on the stage.

"Leave the house lights alone!" She shouted up at the tech booth

Sky stared at the stage, visualizing Leona's body dropping repeatedly in her mind, blood covering the curtains and the staining the wood flooring. Her throat got tight again, and her breathing came out in short pants.

"There's my girl." Kyle came up behind Sky and gave her a tight hug, she pulled away from him as quick as possible, not keeping eye contact with him "What's wrong? You look sick."

"Bad dream last night, didn't get enough sleep."

"Damn, what was it about?" Kyle brushed a strand of hair away from Sky's face

"Um... The usual- giant spiders, creepy clowns." Sky faked a shudder

"I know what the issue is, you're stressed. You've been working too hard, trust me I know. You should let me take you out."

"What?"

"To dinner, you know relax, explore the city. Maybe even take a trip to Niagara falls, I hear it's nice this time of year."

Nice enough to push me over the railing and watch me fall to my death? Sky bit her tongue, unknowingly looking around the room for Bucky.

"I don't know, maybe."

"Maybe?" Kyle grinned, taking a hold of Sky's hand "One step closer to yes."

Sky let out a shaky laugh watching him gently grasp her hand. He couldn't be a killer, right? Kyle was too nice, perhaps he just got caught up in whatever his brother and sister where dealing with. He did seem like the odd one out from time to time. Maybe, if given the opportunity to choose a side, he'd pick the good side.

"Have you heard from Leona?" Sky asks

"Leona? Yeah, she said she was sick."

"Sick?"

"Yeah, talked to her myself. Why?"

"She..." a gunshot echoed in Sky's ears, followed by shattering glass "Well I forgot the flowers you gave me. She said she'd bring them by on her way home."

"Did she?" Kyle cocked his head to the side, a slight darkness in his eyes took over "I guess she forgot."

"Yeah, I guess she did."

"Kyle, stop flirting with my dancers." Lucy scowled before pointing to Sky "On stage now, we need as much rehearsal time as possible."

"Coming."

Just before Sky could make it to the stage she caught a glimpse of something shiny in the rafters.

"Hey, let's go we don't have all day." Lucy steered Sky to the front of the lineup. Sky felt a shiver run through her body, not seeing one trace of blood in the stage. She didn't know whether to be happy or more frightened than she already was "We're starting with Daring Dames, cue the music."

Sky had to move through the number with her eyes half closed, if she didn't it kept feeling as if she was dancing on top of Leona's body in a way. From time to time she continued to catch the shiny light above the stage. Lucy eased up on the girls, letting them take a well deserved break. Sky raced to her dressing room the first chance she got, locking the door behind her. Another chill ran through her body when she looked at Leona's side of the room, everything was gone, her stage clothes, make-up, everything was cleared out. Walking over to the crooked vanity mirror, Sky straightened it up, Bucky stood behind her in the corner.

"Jesus Christ!" Sky gasped "Don't do that."

"What were you thinking? Asking about Agent Miller risks bringing more attention to yourself." He scowled

"I had to know if Kyle was involved." Sky turned to face him

"Boyfriend doesn't meet your expectation?"

"He's not my boyfriend."

"So you agree to go on vacation with just anyone?" Bucky seethed, Sky raised an eyebrow and folded her arms across her chest

"Why do you care?"

"You’re my responsibility, if you get yourself killed because you want to get into your boss's pants-"

"I don't want to get into Kyle's pants. He wants to get into mine." Sky spoke a bit more proudly than she expected "But I don't sleep around, don't let my job description confuse you Barnes. It takes a lot more than money, a charming smile, or hypnotizing blue eyes to get me into bed."

Bucky paused for a moment, holding back a shit eating grin. He liked seeing Sky all wound up, not taking any shit from people, in fact seeing her talk back to Fury last night was a turn on for him, and having her challenge him now made him want to take her on every surface in the room.

"Brown."

"Excuse me?"

"Kyle's eyes are brown, not blue." Bucky couldn't hide his amusement any longer "Hypnotizing blue eyes?"

"You're missing my point."

"No I got it, step my game up."

"There's no game. I'm not gonna sleep with you."

"Technically there wouldn't be much sleeping."

Sky felt the corner of her mouth twitch and heat gather in her core. Damn her lack of a sex life and his blue eyes. A knock at the door pulled them away from their intense stare down with each other, Bucky moved to hide in the bathroom, while Sky went to open it. To her surprise Jason, the eldest of the Champion siblings, stood on the other side. Like Kyle, Jason was taller than most and had dark brown eyes, and tied with his brother when it came to the amount of women they had falling to their feet. Although Sky had a feeling that Jason wasn't interested in women. But Jason had a bigger build than Kyle, something he showed off by wearing tight button down shirts that he kept unbuttoned at the top.

"Jason, is something wrong?" Sky asked

"I wanted to talk to you about Leona." He cut to the chase "Mind if I come in?"

"It's your club, I don't see why not." Sky stood to the side to let him in, checking over her shoulder to see if Bucky was completely out of sight. Jason strolled over to Leona's side of the room, trailing a finger along the vanity, as if he expected to find dust where it shouldn't be.

"Leona quit last night." He spoke smoothly

"Quit? Kyle told me she was sick."

"Sick of the job, 'glorified stripping' she called it." Jason turned to Sky "Did she seem off to you last night? Or say anything that raised any red flags?"

"No, she didn't give me that impression." Sky could feel Bucky watching her again and it made her shift from foot to foot

"What about any of the other girls? Any strange behavior?"

"Well Jackie ate her weight in boneless wings last week. I thought she was vegan." Sky faked a chuckle, Jason smirked at the poor attempt of a joke

"Well if that's all, then I guess I'll leave you be. Let me know if you see or hear anything." Jason strolled back over to the door

"Not a problem boss." Sky followed him to the doorway, watching him make his way down the hall before shutting the door again.

She felt him behind her before she could turn around, but didn't know how close he was until she actually faced him. Bucky peered down at Sky, studying her features, she was flustered (obviously), a light pink appeared on her cheeks.

"You did great, kept calm, not bad for an amateur." He cool breath fanned across her skin

"It's my job to pretend, entertaining the idea of pleasure."

"I'm sure you could do more than that." Bucky's eyes traveled down her body before meeting her eyes again "Now, back to my hypnotizing blue eyes."

"If I didn't know any better," Sky stood on her toes, lightly brushing herself against his body "I'd think you were flirting with me, Agent Barnes."

Bucky's tongue trailed along his bottom lip, his eyes now dropping to Sky's lips. She smiled before slipping from around him.

"I have to get back to rehearsal, gotta keep up the act right?" Sky winked, rushing out of the room

Bucky let out an uneasy breath before adjusting his pants.

"She is good, a fucking professional."

Taglist: @pocmarvelworks @chook007 @impactshawol @resting-catface @the-surviving-revolutionist @divaanya @get-loki @purplekitten30 @1serpentbitch6 @perksofbeingabookworm @pass1on11 

[idolizerp]

LOADING INFORMATION ON R!OT’S MAIN RAP, VOCAL LEE JIMIN…

IDOL DETAILS

STAGENAME: N/A CURRENT AGE: 20 DEBUT AGE: 20 TRAINEE SINCE AGE: 17 COMPANY: 99 Ent. ETC: this member participated on UPRS and came in second prior to debut

IDOL IMAGE

with her mature features and sharp eyes paired with that deep voice and intense rap, jimin embodies the “cool girl” aesthetic. her personality is blunt yet rough around the edges, her anger and attitude often coming close to crossing the line into “unacceptable” territory. she’s far from tame and most would think that no company would want to take the risk of debuting her just yet, however, she was added to the r!ot lineup anyway and made it into the group with her list of flaws still a mile long. though, they knew exactly how to play it just right. jimin is not a “typical” idol, but then again that’s exactly what 99 is going for with r!ot—a group of girls meant to be just catchy enough to draw you in and just intimidating enough to make you keep your distance. her aggressive and loud stance is exactly what the group needs to stand out she bring their concept home.

her confidence paired with the skills she spent years cultivating makes her worth the risk, especially with the heavy criticism of idol rappers growing each new generation. however, her own attitude towards them is what holds her back. she never wanted to be an idol, hated idols even, and it shows in her performance. the occasional lazy movements, lip syncing instead of singing live with the rest of the group, slacking off on practice. she’s far from enthusiastic about her position as a member of the group, doing the bare minimum to keep her spot and avoid confrontation from the members. when the cameras are on her, she can do what she has to get by, but when the others are trying their hardest to stand out with so many groups debuting every day, she’s doing her best to fade into the background.

that doesn’t stop 99 from pushing her as an mc and on variety shows. her blunt attitude and quick wit make her easy to crack jokes with and keep banter going, her harsh nature coming off more as a dog that’s more bark than bite when combined with the typical wacky editing. she’s a tool to get her group out there, no matter how much she dislikes it. she feels it undermines her as a rapper and a musical artist to be paraded around like a show pony and make everyone like her. she should be loved for her music and music only, not her visuals or anything else irrelevant. while she can’t exactly take back the contract she signed, she can stage her own form of protest in being as bare minimum as possible.

IDOL HISTORY

Early Life

from the moment she was born, jimin was put at a disadvantage. coming from a single mother family with two children and being from a small time, their family was always the topic of whispers and rumors. her mother never finished school, meaning the only jobs she could get were those at a store, cafe or hair salon—never making enough money to care for her and her older brother. options were limited with her mother having little family willing to take on two kids with no guarantee she’d ever come get them, and ultimately her mother decided to give the two of them up by the time she was 4 and he was 6, sending them off to live with their grandmother.

needless to say jimin and jungmin, her brother, were as thick as thieves. they were unable to be separated even before they went into the system together. despite the closeness in age, jungmin did his best to take the role of parent with how often their mother spent out working or with “friends”, and even more so when they felt they had no one else they could depend on. and jimin did what she could to keep him safe, despite being younger. whether it be fighting on his behalf whenever he would be picked on by the other children, or waiting for him when he got back from school so they could walk hand in hand home.

their dependence on each other was a crutch and a weakness. they could hardly go the school day without one another and it only got worse as they grew older.

II. Adolescence

jimin has odd hobbies for someone her age. most kids frown at the idea of writing and willingly spending extra time in school, but it was what she enjoyed. particularly, spending hours on end writing stories or poems in her little notebook her brother got her with the little pocket money he had. it was something she was always drawn to, from when she was younger and writing diary entries to school age when she would always get the highest rank in the subject. combined with her odd childhood fascination with spiders and various other creepy crawlers and her bad attitude, she was naturally seen as a bit strange. she was never a people person—coming from her relying solely on her brother and her fear of abandonment coming from her relationship, or lack of, with his mother—but jungmin was instantly popular.

where jimin was awkward and aggressive, jungmin was kind and gentle. where jungmin was bright and energetic, jimin was gloomy and sluggish. polar opposites despite spending nearly every waking moment together for years. there came a time when they began to stray away from one another, more so on jungmin’s part. when they were younger, there was no problem with letting the rude little sister tag along with her older brother’s friends, but it became increasingly awkward and weird. eventually he began telling her excuse after excuse, lie after lie, to keep her home and away from him. he loved his sister, he did, but he wanted to be his own person. jimin couldn’t seem to understand that.

as the gap between them grew, so did her tendency to isolate herself. she focused solely on her studies, her writing. she didn’t have many people who could put up with her snapping at them, and thus didn’t have any real friends close enough to reach out to her. she was alone. and that was when she found music.

III. Discovery of Music

when she found music, she felt like she finally found herself. while jimin loved writing, she always felt something was missing. her teachers suggested an extra curricular or something to do instead of spending all her free time alone. the standard kpop groups she would see her classmates play or she’d overheard her brother talk about never interested her, and as she further explored music she found she had a strong dislike toward them and the treatment of music on their part. they didn’t appreciate the real art of it all, they didn’t understand what that music could really mean to someone. it was annoying in a way she couldn’t put into words.

that was what helped her discover the rap scene. living in hongdae, it was hard to really miss the huge hip-hop scene there, but it never occurred to her that she of all people could be a part of it. to say she was immediately good would be a lie. jimin started out participating in freestyle events and becoming more and more fascinated with the world. her craft was rusty, but she eventually managed to make a name for herself and felt like she fit with the people around her. it was real, the words truly meant something to them. it wasn’t like the music she heard her classmates gush about—it was raw and made her feel like part of a real movement. she loved it.

jimin didn’t start really rapping seriously until she was 15, attending proper competitions and turning her poems into raps and her stories into songs. it was like she was reborn as someone with confidence to be herself, her own person, regardless of the flaws and whether people liked her or not. she could let out all her pain and struggles, or everything that made her smile. it was an amazing feeling.

though she was young, she earned a decent amount of respect for her skills and ability to hold her own among older rappers. she was far from amazing, sure, but for her age she had a very solid foundation. that was probably what led to her being scouted. hongdae was known for the hip hop scene and the people within it, so it wasn’t strange for scouts for 99 to hang around the known populated areas for talent. jimin wasn’t the first or only choice, but she was recognized as someone who had potential and was called for an audition.

she initially decided to not go. it wasn’t her thing—she wasn’t idol material nor was the lifestyle what she wanted. but she was still young and immature and the scouts were very sweet talkers, and so she agreed to go. in heavy contrast to herself, her brother was excited to hear it. he followed all kinds of groups, especially girl groups, and the idea that his sister had the opportunity to work alongside them was almost too good to be true. and it was, because though she passed the audition, the moment she became a trainee was the moment she discarded it all.

IV. Trainee & Idol Life

needless to say jimin was unhappy as a trainee. the promises they told her and the lies they sold her to get their there were quickly thrown out the second she signed her name, leaving only anger and disappointment. the only reason she remained even after her hopes were crushed was because she couldn’t bring herself to let down the little family she had, who were so excited at the idea of seeing their little girl on the big screens in front of the whole country. she couldn’t bring herself to let them of all people down.

despite her reluctance, she wasn’t bad at it. rapping was naturally her strong suite, but dancing and singing weren’t particularly difficult for her. she was a natural, some praised her. it made her sick. jimin was completely at the mercy of the company and trainers, singing how they told her, dancing how they told her, rapping what they told her. it went against everything she knew and she hated it. there wasn’t much she could do, however. the longer she stayed, the deeper in debt she grew, and there was no way her family had the money to pay for any of it. her only option was to debut, and no matter how much she looked down on the others or how much she hated the idea, she worked toward it harder than anyone.

when she got the offer to be sent to a competition show while still as a trainee, she naturally hesitated. the competition among trainees was already more than she bargained for after all. but the possibility that she’d get to rap what she wanted, how she wanted, was just too much to give up.

when she was a contestant on unpretty rapstar, it was like a whole new world, but somehow the same one she’d left. she’d never tried “dissing”, not really, after all she was young and no one would truly try to take her down hard before. but that wasn’t like then. no one would go easy on there and she had to deliver the show people wanted to see. her cocky attitude and aggressive nature came in handy in a way it hadn’t before—she was exactly what people wanted to see when they turned the television on. she was all confidence and power, even if she lost or was less perfect on her rhymes. she held the attitude of a winner and when you have that, it doesn’t matter where you place. however, lucky for her, she managed to come out second and helped 99 solidify their plans for her.

with the hype surrounding her from the show, it wasn’t hard to figure out that she would be one of the girls debuting next. it was both a blessing and a curse for someone like jimin, but there wasn’t much that was within her power. when she was announced as r!it’s main rapper, she didn’t celebrate like the other members chosen. it was like one weight in her shoulders was exchanged for an even heavier one and it only got worse as the debut day grew closer. the only saving grace was her being allowed to have a hand in a track, allowing some ounce of actual jimin to be poured into the music she wanted to hate.

even while promoting as a member of a rookie group, jimin never changed who she was. she never forced a smile, never faked a giggle to seem more likeable. sure it made some variety appearances awkward, the hosts and members trying their hardest to joke her blank face off but she stayed true to who she was. lucky for her, it went hand in hand with the way the public viewed her based on her uprs appearance—confident, unshakeable, and powerful. somehow, her disinterest only propelled her forward, landing her a job as an MC of all things. if given the choice, jimin would happily hand the job over to another member, but the excited calls from her brother and grandmother after seeing her on television made it hard to hate. after all, it was the only thing that could get her to smile and act energetic with her co-MCs and that frown could only get her so far.

[jimlingss]

Starlet and Moonstruck [2]

Chapter 1||Chapter 2||Chapter 3||Chapter 4||Chapter 5 Words: 5.3k Genre: Fluff & Humour, Actress!Au Summary: As a newcomer actress struggling to make a name for yourself in the tough industry, you’re absolutely ecstatic to see your Dispatch pictures on the front page of Naver....but..what is this?! This isn’t about you!

Who’s the third guy from the left?!

Cr.

Once the digital clock, blaring red numbers back at him, has switched the minutes from 59 to 00, Seokjin refreshes the page immediately. He knows the competition is low but he can’t risk losing out on this opportunity. He would regret it for the rest of his life.

The blank screen switches to one with a catalogue full of posters, plushies and hoodies. Seokjin glimpses over at them, putting each object into the shopping cart. In five minutes, he’s at the online checkout section, grabbing his wallet to pay.

As he opens up the leather pouch, he finds himself with less than thirty dollars in cash but whatever. Seokjin brushes it aside, grabbing his card and purchasing the items with express shipping.

Even if he’s broke, as your number one fan and with you as his ultimate bias, he’ll always make an exception in his funds to buy your merch.

Oh...the stanning life.

//

“Nice job, Seokjin!” “You’ve got this in the bag!” “Great job!”

He stands in the corner, arms folded in front of him, head dipping with each compliment and growing sheepish from embarrassment. The owner of the coffee shop has never been this kind to him before. In the past, he was often told to scrub the brown toilets back to white or to go diving in the dumpster for a cheap necklace she accidentally threw out. He even has to sweep up her toenail bits after she’s clipped them at the front entrance, sitting on the stool, waiting all day for customers.

But ever since Seokjin’s obtained the name ‘Third Guy From The Left’, business has been better. Thus, the lady has treated him with a strange amount of courtesy, going as far as to tell him to simply sit there and do nothing.

He got this part-time job on the side to help him make ends meet while he chases after his real dream of being a director. Of course, he has the job of being your bodyguard now but the owner of the café can be very persuasive and he found himself continuing to pick up shifts.

“Oh my god!” Yet another girl swoons and he ducks to hide his warming face. “Can you please sign my phone?”

Her friend jumps, “me too! Me too!”

“Nope! Nope!” The stingy owner stops him from signing with the permanent marker. “You have to buy a drink first!”

The girls stare at her before huffing out, grabbing the wallets from their bag. As if that wasn’t enough, his boss continues to capitalize on his popularity, setting out a drink package that allows others to take a picture of him, increasing the price if people want to take it with him, continuing to increase if they want him to sign something and the list goes on.

The owner goes out, setting up a large sign that the ‘Third Guy From The Left’ works here and she goes to social media to rave about it. There should be lineups winding all the way down five blocks but the coffee shop is ridiculously hard to find. Seokjin, himself, gets lost frequently and initially, he only found this place by accident. It’s a huge maze of through alleyways and unnamed streets, passing through rough neighborhoods and unpaved roads. It’s no wonder the café doesn’t get many customers and why the rent for the place is so cheap; location, location, location - the realtors always said and this place sucks.

A lot of people went on the internet to say that the owner of the café was lying and such a place doesn’t even exist when they’re unable to find it but a few people tread on and they do manage.

“You should keep working here forever!” The middle-aged lady snickers under her breath, licking her thumb and counting up the wad of cash. “I’d make sure you wouldn’t have to lift a finger or use that brain of yours until retirement!”

Seokjin merely laughs, hoping his shift will end soon.

//

“H-hello.” He bows from his waist, accidentally knocking his head into the desk and wincing with an ‘ow’. He steps back, standing straight again with his navy blue binder hugged to his chest. “My name is Kim Seokjin, I am twenty-four years of age and I’m looking to apply here at this company.”

The man behind the desk and the team of interns turn their heads to look at him. Upon finding that he’s unrecognizable, the man turns down to his papers. “Sorry. We’re not hiring.”

“I-uh…”

Another intern steps up, guiding Seokjin out the door before he can provide any sort of explanation for his cause. The door shuts. The binder falls to his side when his arm slumps. He presses his forehead against the wall, sighs through his teeth, the feeling of rejection tingling his senses. How is he supposed to move forward with his dream when no one will even give him a chance?

“Seokjin?”

He spins around but doesn’t know who it is. The boy drops his chin once again, only to do a double take, eyes widening at the sight of you. “Y/N?”

You skip up to him, chewing a snack in your cheek and swallowing it down. “What are you doing here? I thought this was your day off.”

He spends a long moment staring at you, soaking in all your features and making sure he’s in reality, not dreaming up a storm at night. He’s still trying to get used to seeing you around in real life and not on the digital screens or behind metal fence barriers. But today, it’s much different.

You’re makeupless and sporting an old hoodie from your high school alumni. It’s not bad. You look fine, the same eyes and sparkle, the smile and sweet voice. It’s simply that he’s used to seeing you flawless, without a blemish to spare, hair blow dried with copious amounts of products and volume. Seokjin always considered you as a goddess.

But you’re much more human than he thought.

“I...uh...I’m trying to apply for a job.”

“At the company?” You raise your brows, digging your hands into the sweater’s pocket. “Don’t you already work as my ‘bodyguard’?”

You make air quotations and he fights back a smile, glad that you’re a burst of vivid energy in his monochrome life. “I’m looking for a job where I can-”

“Right, right.” You remember now. “You want to be a director…..hmmm…..let me try.”

This is your moment to shine. It’s now that you can truly show off your status and the position you have in this place. You can finally flaunt off your power to someone and impress him.

“Ahem.” You tap on the desk, interrupting the presentation of the interns who are scribbling ideas for a new production on the whiteboard. The man swivels around his chair, exhaling in exhaustion and he gives you an unimpressed expression. “Mr. Wang, please give this man a job.”

Your hands are on your hips and you cock your head to one side. The man narrows his eyes at you, pupils boring into your visage. The interns have quieted down, waiting impatiently for the shenanigans to be over. Seokjin gulps, anticipating an answer.

To him, your backside is the strongest, the most admirable and he’s already proud of himself for not dropping to the ground in screams over his bias actually fighting for him-

“Who are you?”

//

Well shit. If that guy didn’t work at the company, you would’ve punched him in the face.

“It’s okay, Y/N.” Seokjin repeats as he gazes at you, repressing soft giggles as he observes you rub your eyes for the millionth time with the sleeve of your sweater. Upon asking, you strongly denied that you shed any sort of tears. “Really. It already means a lot to me that you tried.”

It’s embarrassing. You’re ashamed. Your entire face is red and you wish the earth would open to swallow you whole. Your pride is too much sometimes and for your ego to be bruised, you feel angry and upset. Someone at the company, your company, didn’t even know who you are.

“Y/N?”

“Shut up.”

Seokjin wonders how you can be so cute.

He smiles happily, walking back to your apartment with you alongside him. It’s a rare day off for you too - granted by Soo-Ae who’s scrambling to get several more auditions for you and then it’ll be back on the grind of memorizing lines and practicing the scenes out until they become muscle memory.

“HEY!”

You shatter Seokjin out of his daydream and he watches as you go flying to your car in the parking lot. A horde of kids go sprinting out of the bushes nearby, rushing past him in scattered giggles, feet hitting against the concrete pavement. “Are you fucking kidding me?!”

You bend over, hands on your knees, whimpers and whines leaving your throat. The man who was with you approaches in light steps, bewildered when he heard you cussing aloud. But then he spots the big brown turd on the hood of your car and the bright yellow word ‘POO’ sprayed across from the doors.

“Dammit.”

You always knew doing that laxative CF was a bad idea.

Out of the corner of your hawk eyes, you find an empty can of spray paint rolling near the tree and you scream. The two kids jump up in response, laughing their heads off and you chase them around the parking lot, spitting on the ground and yelling at them to clean up the mess they made or you’ll find their parents and sue for damages.

Meanwhile, Seokjin is in a state of incredulity, unable to comprehend that this adult woman who he’s idolized and worshipped, is running after the neighborhood kids, uncaring that the fabric skirt is being flipped up and giving him an eye-full of pink panties.

It’s not a bad thing. He finds it kind of funny in a way.

“Got you now!” You wiggle your fingers, cornering them by the front entrance of your apartment. The two children exchange a look, excited from the chase as if you were playing a game of tag with them. There’s good reason why they’re not afraid of you - sure, you’re pissed that someone took a shit on the hood of your car and vandalized it but the vehicle was always a piece of shit anyways.

And you have no plans on beating them up, reporting them to the police or suing poor kids who already didn’t have enough to eat. They were simply mischievous children making memories for the future. You were at that age once and if you got in trouble for all your mischief-making, you’d be in prison by now.

The two of them swap looks and at the same time, they bolt in different directions, right out of your grasps, a hair away from nipping them by the collar of their shirts. You sigh with a smile, shaking your head. “Seriously stop it! I’m going to actually call the police one of these days!”

If you become rich and famous in the future and you move to a nicer part of town, maybe you’ll look back on today and miss being around these terrorizing kids. They’re one of the few things that make you feel less lonely.

“You know...” You tilt your head with a pout, exhausted from the ordeal. “-You’re my bodyguard. Aren’t you supposed to defend me? It’s your one job.”

Seokjin stifles back a laugh, opening the door to your apartment complex. “Against little kids?”

The pair of you enter the stairway, marching up a few levels and conquering the mountain of steps. But as you fish out for your key to the door, the thought floods back in your head and you drop your arm, sigh dripping of tiredness. “I’m sorry.”

“What for?” He blinks in his innocence, not understanding the purpose of the apology.

“I couldn’t get you the job. I couldn’t even get them to hear you out. I….I couldn’t do anything for you.” The shame and self-disappointment cripples your confidence, prompting you to blink away the tears and clench your fist. An urge to pull on the strands of your hair overwhelming you.

But Seokjin places his hand over yours and you lift your chin, locking your eyes with his warm ones. He shakes his head and smiles at you graciously, the corner of his lips raising, looking as handsome as he did in the photos that caused you to be here with him. “You’ve already done enough for me. It’s okay, Y/N. Thank you.”

“If anything,” he adds on, “it didn’t really matter that much. I-....I actually have another interview with a director I really admire and if he could bring me under his wing, that would be...a dream…..it’s just...”

“What?”

“I’m nervous.”

“Don’t be.”

You smile back at him, melting in your spot. Your heel spins around and you finally unlock your door. “Anyone would be happy to have you.”

//

With your reassurance in mind, voice echoing in the hollows of his brain, he takes a deep breath and enters the shop, smoothing out his polo shirt and his neat hair. Seokjin’s hands are shaking and quivering, yet, he takes the courage to step forward. Immediately, he finds the table where the esteemed Park Chanwook is, reading the menu and pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

If Seokjin stanned you and had you as his bias, Park Chanwook is his role model. The man began as film critic and from then on, helped to create masterpieces like ‘Lady Vengeance’, ‘Oldboy’, ‘The Handmaiden’ and ‘The Truth Beneath’. He’s won thousands of awards, Best Director to Daesang, famous in his field and to be several meters away from him, Seokjin feels nauseous.

“H-hello.”

“Oh, you must be Kim Seokjin. Nice to meet you.” The older man motions to the unoccupied chair across from him. “Take a seat.”

The younger man blacks out for a few minutes. He doesn’t remember making small talk or ordering from the waitress but by the time he focuses back in, the director is chuckling and he has his entrée half eaten in front of him. “You’re a very charming individual, Seokjin. I'll give you that much but I think we should start looking at your credentials.”

The director wipes his mouth with the tablecloth napkin, setting aside his unfinished lunch and grabbing his file folder. He has Seokjin’s binder as well, flipping through the perfected portfolio that’s had heart and soul poured into each page. Seokjin holds his breath, knee bouncing underneath the table, watching as the director hums every so often and looks through his resume.

“Alright.” Mr. Park Chanwook closes up the documents, clasping his hands onto the table. “You have a good education and a good personality. You’re likeable and easygoing which is very refreshing to see.”

He blushes, flustered from the amount of praise. Seokjin had graduated from the prestigious Seoul University two years ago with a Film Studies degree; albeit not a popular major, one he was shamed for and one where he finds difficulty finding a job in. After graduating, he worked on honing his camera and writing skills before officially applying and entering the entertainment industry. Unfortunately, he never received any calls back and he had given up on his dream of being a director long ago until he found you.

It was you that reignited the fire within him, you who inspired to chase after his ambitions again.

“But aside from those things-” The older man shakes his head and Seokjin’s heart falls to his stomach. “-you have no other background, no experience, no network, no connections. And because of those things, those crucial things, I don’t think you’re suited for this job.”

The bomb drops upon his shoulders and Mr. Park continues, “perhaps in a few years time but I’m deeply sorry Kim Seokjin, you’re not what we’re looking for.”

There’s a moment of silence.

Seokjin gathers his wits and he breathes out a steady breath. “H-how can I improve?”

How can he receive more experience if no one wants to give him a chance? How is he supposed to build relationships when others won’t even talk to him? How is he supposed to make it if no one helps?

Park Chanwook sits back in his seat, crossing his arms and exhaling an extended stream of air. He seems to contemplate the question deeply before answering. “You’re kind and earnest - that much, I can tell. It’s admirable and something I hope you won’t lose in the future. I have a son your age and you actually remind me a lot of him, so, allow me to be frank with you. I hope you won’t take my criticism to heart.”

“Y-yes…” Seokjin nods, “please go ahead.”

“Not everyone can become great people. If it were that possible and easily obtainable, then everyone would be great. Every single person would be a superstar but in reality, there is one.” He holds up his finger before putting it down again. “Not everyone can achieve greatness. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have a family?”

“I do.”

“Good,” he hums. “Take care of them. Take care of your parents and support them, start your own family, settle down. Your dream isn’t just your own. It affects everyone in your life.”

It’s at this second that Seokjin really looks at the man in front of him, the person who seems to have exhaustion permanently etched into his bones, wrinkles in places where there shouldn’t be, tired eyes and sunken in cheekbones. “As someone who’s been in this business for a long time, too much...I know when it’s enough. I know when it’s better if someone were to let go. I want you to make a living, Seokjin, and this isn’t it.”

The man has seen things, lived through hell and came back, turned a blind eye when he shouldn’t have but was forced to. The industry is cut-throat and competitive, full of backstabbers and liars. For the sake of keeping another person sane, he pours out all his honesties.

“The sooner you quit this race that has no finish line, the better your life would be.”

Seokjin sits alone in his chair. The world pulls away from him. He can’t do anything but listen to the heartbeat that pounds in his eardrums. His head downcasts to his lap. And he receives the painful advice as best as he can. “T-thank you.”

//

The darkness came before the light could even fade away.

Seokjin is collapsed in the corner, arm rested on top of his knees, head leaning against the wall, phone pressed against his ear. His portfolio binder, full of photographs and writing, his countless ideas, are abandoned by his side, discarded and dumped. “Come home.”

His father tells him on the other line and his mother’s tearful voice can also be heard. “We’re not sad, son.”

“If you’re worried about disappointing us then don’t be. I’m already happy you’re my son. I don’t need anything else from you. You’ve just been gone for so long.”

“We miss you,” his father intercepts again. “Jjanggu doesn’t even remember you anymore. Your younger brother asks about you a lot. We miss you. Don’t you think you’ve spent enough time in Seoul? Son, just let the dream be a dream. Come home to us.”

He sleeps that night.

When his guilt, his agony, his turmoil has become too much to bear, Kim Seokjin escapes the world of reality to the ones in his dreams, letting his exhaustion release him from his nightmares. But when his mind prevents him from leaving into a deep slumber, his tear-stained pillow tells more stories than his broken voice can manage.

He only finds a sense of solace in your presence. You, who is too nervous and preoccupied with the audition to notice his anguish, too ignorant to realize his suffering. It’s a good thing. He doesn’t want to speak out his bleak future and the prospects of having to desert what he wants most.

“Why are you eating right now?”

Soo-Ae, your manager, is on the phone and she excused herself to the washroom, leaving you with your bodyguard. You’re still chewing on the way to the conference room and Seokjin giggles at your cheek that’s stuffed with chicken. “I gained weight for the role. This is my last chance to gain some more.” You lick your fingers off, using a wet wipe to fix your lipstick and clean up any greasy messes. “Alright, wish me luck!”

He opens the door for you, “good luck!”

At least if he couldn’t achieve his ambitions, if he saw you make it, maybe it’ll be enough for him.

“You should dump him!” You visibly sulk, hands on your hips, bottom lip jutted out. The role was created in order to promote the chicken company that would sponsor the drama. It’s a side character and not of any importance to the plot but as long as you get screen time, you don’t care what kind of things you have to do. “You should eat chicken instead! Don’t you know that chicken can cure all kinds of things like the flu to heartbreak?”

You pause, pretending that you made the main role laugh. “See?! It’s already helping you already! I’m telling you he’s too-”

“Stop! Stop! Stop!” The middle judge of the three rubs his forehead and frowns as if he’s under a massive headache. “Look, to make this go by faster, we need someone with more charm or someone with more fame. It draws in more attention to the drama but you obviously….wha-.....what’s your name again?!”

You scoff openly in disbelief. Your resume is right in front of him and he couldn’t look down to read your name? Meanwhile, Seokjin sits at the back of the room, watching the entire scene play out and he wishes it was part of the audition. Unfortunately, he’s about to witness you get slaughtered.

“I’m going to be clear with you - you’re not talented,” the lady to the left remarks in a cold tone. “You don’t have the skill or the material we want. Your posture is bad, your expressions are stiff, you recite lines like a robot - really, why are you even acting? Is this a joke to you?”

A muscle in your cheek twitches but you keep quiet. “I recommend you reconsider your career choices,” she says and you tremble in a mixture of emotions, all threatening to pour over your head like a bucket of ice water.

You slowly turn off to the last lady at the right, your only hope left remaining. But she seems to be distracted, staring off at the glass windows of the city buildings. They’re prepared to call for the next person and you hold back your tears, bawling up your fist to your side.

“I..I’m still going to act! I’ll make it one day.” You manage without your voice wavering and you look at the producers straight in the eye before bowing from your waist. “Thank you for your constructive criticism. I will work hard in the future to improve my abilities and I’ll come back.”

The man pulls his hands over his face, wondering what he has to say to get the message through your thick skull. “No. Don’t.”

“I will. It’s my dream. Thank you for your concern but it’s my life.”

Seokjin’s heart has stopped. His eyes have grown wide. Something strums within his chest.

“If your words alone could make me give up, then that means I lacked sincerity within my dream and that it meant nothing to me. Thank you and goodbye.”

You hold your head up high, strutting out of the room, leaving the producers rolling their eyes in indignation and shaking their heads at your ignorance. On the other hand, Seokjin trails behind you, watching your backside and wondering how you could be so close but so far away.

He marvels at you. You’re a star shining in the sky, a starlet that he can never reach.

//

If only the image in Seokjin’s head and his high regard for you was true, perhaps, you would be a perfect, immortal angel. Regrettably, you are a very flawed individual.

“I can’t do this anymore.” You ball up the damp tissues in your hand, the tears continuing to cascade down your cheeks. Seokjin is at a loss of what to do, the person he reveres is broken in front of him, mascara running down your cheeks, oversized sweater enveloping your frame.

It was an act.

The entire outburst in front of the producers was a mere facade to save your pride.

You were lying to them, lying to the world, lying to yourself. And now you’re tired. You’re simply exhausted of running in the absolute darkness, chasing after nothing, meaninglessly wasting your days away without an inch of improvement. You can’t do this anymore.

“W-what about all the things you said in there about coming back in the future?”

Seokjin doesn’t understand. You were so cool in front of the producers, level headed and calm. On screen, you’ve been even more amacculate. To see you crying on the floor, huddled up by yourself with the apartment lights off is utterly baffling to his mind.

“It was a fucking lie!” You scream at him, hurling the paper tissue box at his stomach to which he catches. “I’m so tired. Do you know how long I’ve been doing this for? Six years! More than half a goddamn decade! I lost contact with all my friends, my family doesn’t even want to call me, I don’t have food to eat, the hot water doesn’t even work in this stupid place and the only thing I thought I was good at, they told me I suck.”

How is he supposed to comfort you? How is he supposed to make things better? Seokjin doesn’t have any clue.

“You said that if their words were enough to tear you down, that means your dream wasn’t sincere…”

You chuckle mirthlessly, shaking your head and wiping your cheeks with the sleeve of your hoodie. “You don’t understand. T-they’re professionals who’ve been working there longer than I’ve been alive...they know what they’re talking about. They know from first glance who’s good and who’s bad…”

You gasp for a breath of air. “You want to know something?”

Seokjin sits across from you on the floor, gazing at your face soaked in by the moonlight. He always thought you looked the most beautiful in the milky wash, where your beauty wasn’t dissected through harsh artificial lighting and your skin glowed instead. He’s especially transfixed at the way your tear drops twinkle, rolling off your cheeks like sparkling diamonds.

“What is it?”

“I’m good at acting. I fucking know I am.” You bitterly smile to yourself, sniffling the cries away. “It’s true that I was inspired at a young age but it was a stupid dream. “My entire life, I’ve been likeable, pretty, outgoing. It’s easy. It’s easy to act happy.”

You’ve always had a talent for smiling on cue, acting as if everything’s okay, putting on an appearance that you’re put together.

You whisper your words out, each syllable wrapped in an unadulterated pain. “You know, if you start to pretend you’re happy, it might feel like it’s real. For a long time, you’ll believe in it. But in the end, it’s fake. It’s bullshit. I’m not happy - I hate myself - and I live a shitty ass life.”

Seokjin has always put you on a higher pedestal. You are the flawless actress, the beautiful goddess with a shining smile that he could only imagine pinning after. You were the one he daydreamed about, the person out of his league, the individual behind the screen, the black mirror of his computer and phone, the one he glorified and looked up to.

There’s almost a sense of betrayal by the way you’ve broken down in front of him. You’ve been presented so perfectly that witnessing your tears, your bitterness, the human inside of you, it should leave a sour taste on his tongue. He’s been lied to. You’re far from the image you present. You've broken the fourth wall. You’re not the impeccable, happy woman that he thought you were.

No.

Each teardrop that rolls from your eyelashes to your chin, dripping on the floorboard, echoes loudly in the apartment, causing him to wince, shattering his expectations, piercing straight through his soul and slapping him across the face with a simple realization-

You’re no longer merely someone he idolizes.

You are L/N Y/N, a dedicated starlet trying to make it in the cut-throat industry, a girl who was initially crass to him but only as a defense mechanism. You aren’t that far away figure anymore, shining brightly in the sky to which he gazed upon from a distance with admiration.

You are here. You are a human.

He repeats the same words the director gave to him. Only, this time Seokjin twists them around.

“You’re earnest. You work hard. You’re good. I know it. Not everyone can become great people - if it were easy then everyone would be a star. In reality, there’s only one. You’re that one.”

You scoff, stealing another tissue to dab at your eyes. “Yeah right.”

“You are.” He reasserts in a strong voice, timbre shaking the walls of your home. You look up at Seokjin, the boy who’s black cloud of hair nearly pricks into his eyes, his irises that have softened and plush lips downturned in frustration. The white sweater on his frame and black, ripped pants are worn but still firm on his body. “You just have to keep going in order to make it and never stop. Your dreams are your own and you shouldn’t put blame onto other people or make excuses because of them. If they care about you, they’ll understand. It might be difficult but I’m here. I’m here for you.”

“The race doesn’t have a finish line but the point of it isn’t to finish. It’s the process of running.”

You laugh aloud, a ringing and familiar tone that has him easing. You wipe your eyes again but there’s no point, not when more are accumulating by the second. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t give up.”

It’s not only to you but for himself as well.

“Don’t be naive,” you mutter past the thick lump in your throat, too stubborn to hear his sweet encouragement. As much as you want to listen to him, step back up again, you don’t want to be disappointed again and again. For your entire existence, you’ve been let down over and over again. There’s only so much you can bear by yourself.

“You make it sound so easy. It’s not. You don’t understand-”

“Maybe I don't.” He retorts back in a sharper tone. “But I know this is just the beginning. If you can become so easily knocked down from a few words and rejections, then maybe you do lack sincerity within your dream.” Seokjin traces the same words you used earlier and you tear your eyes away from him.

“Y/N. If you can overcome these struggles, you’ll rise higher and higher. And you don’t need to do it alone. So...don’t give up. The most beautiful days haven’t even begun yet.”

You burst out crying, grabbing the entire tissue box to weep on. He smiles down at you, wiping away his eyes and Seokjin finds that he doesn’t care that you’re not as perfect as he remembered. You’re no longer the actress he loves.

You’re Y/N. And somehow, that’s a million times better.

//

Seokjin opens up his laptop, clicking a few times before a blank document is on his screen. He inhales a huge breath of air, fingers hovering over the keyboard and after a moment of mustering courage, he begins to write the first few lines of a new script.

Lights. Camera. Action.

[asksciencesquad]

WELP guess I should finally post this damn thing. I’ve picked at it wayyyy more than I need to and I just have to accept that it’s never going to be perfect.

I referenced this event like 500 years ago in a previous ask if anyone even remembers but decided it was too ambitious for a whole comic, then realized it would be a good excuse to write again. Sorry if you guys were expecting something visual, but it just be like that sometimes. I haven’t done any creative writing in a while (let alone post it on the internet) so it’s probably not my best  the plot structure is weird, the narrative distance is wildly inconsistent, there’s probably way too much dialogue but it’s something and it’s actually done, so here we are.

(s/o to those of my friends who were able to read this and give me feedback, you’re amazing and I love u)

Summary: The squad visits the Barrier to do some research for an ongoing study. Things quickly go off the rails.

New Home was easily the busiest place in the entire Underground. Monsters of all shapes and sizes lived in the capital, bustling about its streets almost every hour of the day. Most of the inhabitants paid little mind to the others around them, too focused on their own business to pay attention to anyone else.

The three monsters hurrying through the crowds drew a few stares, however.

“G, could you slow down a little bit??” Sans called to the colleague rushing ahead of him. A few feet behind him, Alphys struggled to keep up. She adjusted the backpack slung over her shoulders, muttering something about a laptop.

Gaster stopped and waited for the other two to catch up. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize you were falling behind.” He set down the case he was carrying. He hoped the delicate scientific instruments inside hadn’t been jostled too much from his running. Normally he would’ve been a lot more careful with them, but he and his friends were behind schedule.

Sans set his case down as well, flexing his fingers a few times to unstiffen them. “The streets are so packed. They really couldn’t have sent us at a less busy time of the day?”

Gaster shrugged a little. “I’m sure they just wanted to make things harder for us. At least we’re almost there.” He turned to look at the imposing structure of the castle, visible even from several blocks away. The stone walls rose higher than most of the other buildings, making it discernible from far outside the city. It was the same monotonous gray as the other buildings around it and in the rest of New Home. The only significant difference was that the tops of the castle’s tallest towers had been painted blue – a bright spot of color in a sea of gray.

Neither he nor his friends had ever been inside. While the King could often be found wandering the streets and making small talk with his subjects, the castle was largely closed off to ordinary citizens. Gaster, at least, was excited to see it. The three of them were being sent to go to the Barrier, collecting measurements for an ongoing study. Gaster was interested to see it in person; maybe it was twisted to look forward to seeing the very thing that trapped him and his fellow monsters underground, but his curiosity got the better of him.

The tall skeleton looked back at his companions. “Should we keep going?”

Sans picked up his case again; the lizard monster next to him squinted at Gaster. “Just remember not to leave us behind again. Not everyone has a three-foot stride like you do,” she said.

“Oh, my strides are not three feet long,” Gaster responded. He smirked. “Maybe if you two weren’t so short, you could keep up.”

“H-hey!” Alphys protested. “We’re both slightly below average. You’re the one who’s ridiculously tall!”

“… Yeah, I guess that’s true.” At six and a half feet, he certainly towered over a good portion of the monster population.

By now they were only a few blocks from the castle. A flight of stairs led up to the entrance where several Royal Guards were stationed, watching closely for any signs of trouble. The sight was a little intimidating, even to the most innocent civilians.

“So…” Sans scanned the line of guards. “How does this work, exactly? Do you go up to them and say, ‘Hey, we’re the guys here to look at the Barrier, please let us in’? Or is the King himself maybe gonna bring us there?” Sans gave Alphys a playful nudge. Her normally yellow scales reddened.

Gaster rolled his eyes. “What we need to do is show them the official letter that was sent to the lab asking for someone to help collect the data. The guards and the King should know we’re coming.”

“Letter, huh? Didja get that when you volunteered all three of us to do this without asking me and Alphys first?”

“Are you still upset about that?” Gaster replied. “Okay, I know I probably should have asked, but if I hadn’t spoken up someone else would have volunteered. I figured all three of us could use a few more brownie points after the last… incident.”

There was an awkward pause between all three of them. A couple weeks ago, a power transformer they had been working on sparked violently, starting a small fire in their lab. No one got hurt, and the damage was minor, but nobody at the facility had been very happy with them. Gaster continued. “This won’t even take that long – a couple hours, at most. Besides, have either of you ever seen the Barrier?” He glanced back at his colleagues. They both shook their heads. “Neither have I. It’ll be interesting.”

They were almost at the stairs leading up to the castle’s main entrance. If the guards noticed them, they didn’t show any sign of it, remaining as stoic as ever. The scientists paused at the bottom of the steps, and Gaster fished the printed document from his pocket. He unfolded it and looked it over, his confidence wavering. He could usually keep his head in these kinds of situations, but the fact that this task involved royal affairs made him apprehensive. The stares of the ever-watching guards weren’t helping, either.

“Uh… do either of you want to ask them about this?” he asked hopefully, looking back at his friends.

“Nah, I’m good,” Sans answered.

Alphys shook her head. “You got us into this, you should do it.”

“What are you muttering about down there?” a gruff voice said behind them.

Gaster turned quickly to see who had addressed them. A large dragon-monster guard stood in front of the rest of the castle’s lineup, giving them a hard look.

“Oh, uh, nothing!” Gaster answered hastily. “We’re just, uh…” He climbed the steps up to the guard, Sans and Alphys following behind. He showed the letter to the dragon. “Actually, we’re here to look at the Barrier. I’m sure King Asgore told you we’d be coming, right?”

The guard grabbed the paper and looked it over. “Oh yeah, I remember hearing about this.” He stuffed the letter in his own pocket. “Don’t suppose you three have some kinda ID, do you?”

Gaster and Alphys produced their ID cards from the lab, at which the guard gave a nod of approval. Sans had to dig around in his pocket, but finally found his card and held it up for the guard to see. It was far more beat up than the other two, and had a strange stain on one corner. After a couple seconds, the guard nodded, albeit hesitantly.

He turned to the lineup of other guards. “Artan, take these guys up to the Barrier,” he said, pointing at a lion monster.

“Yes, sir. Follow me,” the guard said with a look at the scientists. They gathered up their gear and followed him to the doors. The guard let them enter before stepping into the castle himself. The entrance was large, as expected. The walls were made of gray stone, much smoother and polished than the exterior. A large and ornate rug covered most of the floor. The weak light of the Underground trickled through several small windows placed high above them, and a chandelier hung from the ceiling. Besides a couple chairs pushed up against the walls, the area was otherwise rather empty – almost uncomfortably so.

Artan led them down a side hallway. The scientists followed closely behind in silence. After a moment, he peered back at them. “So… all three of you are scientists?” he asked.

“Yup,” Sans said, nodding. “We’re all huge nerds.”

“Really? You guys don’t look like it.”

“Like scientists?” Gaster raised a brow. “What are we supposed to look like?”

The guard thought. “I dunno. Lab coats, older, kinda stuffy…” He looked directly at Gaster. “I kinda thought you were a bodyguard or something at first.”

“What? Why?”

Artan looked away, clearly uncomfortable. “Uh… mostly ‘cause of the cracks, honestly.”

Of course. Gaster reached up to touch the small crack running over his right brow. It certainly wasn’t the first time someone had made an assumption like that, but it never failed to bother him. “Yeah, uh… those are just from an old accident,” he said. “Trust me, I’m definitely not cut out for the Royal Guard or anything.”

“No kidding,” Sans said, snorting. “Can you even imagine? You’d probably get slaughtered on your first day.”

“Heh, yeah, probably.” He actually found the idea pretty unsettling, but he wouldn’t say anything with an actual guard around.

Artan shrugged. “Well, I guess you’d know better than me.”

***

The rest of the trip was quiet. When words were exchanged, they were usually just one or two-word sentences. Evidently the awkward conversation earlier had set the mood for everyone.

Artan led them onto a couple elevators and through several winding, gray hallways. Soon, the group entered a new hallway that was vastly different from the others. Polished tiles covered the floor, and one wall was covered in detailed murals outlining the history of monsterkind. On the opposite wall were several stained-glass windows. Yellow light filtered through them, casting the hall in a warm glow.

Sans whistled. “Impressive. This must be an important hall.”

“We’re close to the throne room,” Artan explained. “And just beyond that is the Barrier.” He didn’t seem as awed by the corridor as the three visitors. Gaster figured he’d seen it dozens of times before.

Another gray passageway greeted them when they exited the hall, which then led to the throne room. It was even brighter than the golden hallway. King Asgore’s throne sat in the center, surrounded by small yellow flowers. Gaster looked at the flowers at his feet, getting a sinking feeling in his soul. He knew they had come from the surface. That fact might have been exciting in any other context, but every monster in the Underground knew why they were growing here.

The guard led them down a passageway that led to where the Barrier was. At first it steadily got darker, but at some point their surroundings grew lighter again. Gaster’s eyes widened as they entered the Barrier room. It took up a large portion of the back wall, pulsing with white light. The whole area was filled with a strong and alien energy that could only be human magic.

“Feels weird, right?” the guard asked. He stayed near the doorway as the other three walked closer to the Barrier. “There aren’t many things I’m afraid of, but this place kinda gives me the creeps.”

Reading about the Barrier’s effects was one thing, but actually feeling it was entirely different; being this close to such a powerful magical force was indeed a little unsettling. Gaster felt it permeate through his bones, stronger than he could ever hope his own magic could be. It was unlike anything he’d experienced before.

He pushed his discomfort to the back of his mind. Pleasant or not, they had work to do. “Well, we might as well get started,” he said. Kneeling down, he opened his case and looked over the various science instruments, trying to decide which one to set up first.

“And I’ll boot up the laptop,” Alphys offered, taking off her backpack and unzipping it. In almost a whisper she added, “The sooner we start, the sooner we can leave.” Gaster was a little surprised that Alphys wasn’t more enthusiastic - she was usually excited about anything related to humans. She must’ve found the Barrier’s magic particularly uncomfortable.

As they all busied themselves with their setup, Artan stood by the door in silence. After a moment, he took a few more steps into the room. “Do the three of you need anything else? Cuz if you don’t, then I’ll just… leave…” He jerked his thumb at the door awkwardly.

Gaster looked up from the device he was holding. “I think we’re fine. After we take our measurements, we’re heading back to the lab right away.”

“Alright, well, if you do need something there’s, you know… plenty of guards in this place to ask.”

Gaster nodded in acknowledgement. The guard turned back to the entrance and left them to work. Once his footsteps faded away, Alphys looked up from her keyboard. “Huh, he sounded uncomfortable,” she observed.

“No kidding,” Gaster said. “Can’t blame him – the Barrier can do weird things to monsters.”

Alphys snapped her head up in alarm. “What?? L-like what?? Why didn’t you say anything to us??”

Gaster took his eyes off his hands to look over at her. “Did you not read the documents I gave you? Both of you?” During his informal research on the Barrier, he’d been giving anything particularly important to Sans and Alphys. He'd hoped that it would help them all be well-prepared for the excursion, but apparently all of that effort might have gone to waste. He glanced at Sans as well, giving him a questioning look.

“Eh, I read a couple of ‘em,” Sans said, unconcerned. “Don’t remember any warnings about the Barrier.”

“I skimmed most of them, but… i-it’s not anything bad, is it?” Alphys stammered.

“No, no, we’ll be fine,” Gaster reassured her. “It’s just that there’s a lot of powerful and concentrated magic here, and not everyone can handle it. A lot of monsters have reported feeling… uneasy around the Barrier.” He set down the instrument he’d been holding and started looking over another. “The other effects include things like headaches, anxiety, nausea… nothing serious or long-lasting.”

“Well, that’s good to know,” Sans said with mild interest. He’d conjured up a bone and was moving it around aimlessly with his magic.

“Hey, cut that out!” Gaster snatched it out of the air. “The Barrier is really sensitive to any contact with other magic – which you’d know if you’d read anything.” He dropped the bone to the ground, where it disintegrated on impact. “If we hit it with our magic, it’ll react and affect all our work. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather not have to go back to the lab without any usable data.”

“Alright, alright, I gotcha,” Sans said. “Geez, you’re such a hardass sometimes.”

“Only when it really matters. What we’re doing today is important.”

Sans still seemed as aloof as ever. “Okay, so… what exactly is all this for? I know the data goes to the Royal Scientist and their team, but what do they do with it?”

Gaster thought back to all the material he’d read about the Barrier study. “I’m… not sure what exactly they look for. I just know the observations started decades ago with one of the previous Royal Scientists. Obviously, the hope is that we can use the information to somehow bring down the Barrier.”

“Why even bother? The easiest thing to do would be to just wait ‘til one more unlucky kid falls down here. Doesn’t take a bunch of engineers to realize that.”

Gaster wished the other skeleton would take this a little more seriously. “Because,” he began, “For one thing, the study began a long time ago when we had fewer human souls. For another, there’s no way to be sure when another human will even come down here. It’s already been… what, 40 or 50 years since the last one?” Gaster looked at the Barrier. “If the human kids living near Mt. Ebott have finally learned and started avoiding it, who knows how long we have to wait. We might as well be proactive about it.”

“Yeah, I guess. Still, there’s always gonna be kids who ignore warnings and do stupid things. Like climb up a cursed mountain.”

Sans wasn’t entirely wrong. Still, it sounded better to try and do something in the meantime rather than sit around waiting – hoping - for the next human to fall down. If scrutinizing the Barrier could lead to their freedom sooner, that’s what Gaster would do.

“Well, either way we still have to do what we were, ahem, ‘assigned,’” Alphys said, with a glance at Gaster. “Where should we start?”

“Probably should start with overall magic levels,” Sans suggested. “We can work on the more complex stuff later.”

Gaster nodded. “Sounds fine to me.” He looked over the open carrying cases, grabbing the correct instrument for reading magic levels. He turned it on and fiddled with some of the settings.

Alphys looked back to her laptop, while Gaster and Sans went over to their other equipment. Gaster immersed himself in his work, calibrating the instruments and discussing the setup with the other two monsters. It actually wasn’t very complicated, but he figured it was best to be extra meticulous considering who the data would be going to.

“HEY!” an unfamiliar voice suddenly shouted, catching him completely off-guard. Looking up, he saw a blue fish-monster standing in the doorway. She held a spear of cyan magic and gave them a piercing look. “What’re you three doing here??” she demanded, glowering at each of the three monsters.

None of them spoke.

She jabbed her spear in their direction threateningly. “Well? Is anyone gonna say something? Or do I have to force you to talk?”

“Wow, okay, take it easy!” Gaster held up his hands . “Why do you need to know? Who even are you?”

“I’m Undyne, and I’m part of the king’s Royal Guard.” Her eyes narrowed. “Now who the hell are you punks?”

“We’re scientists, we’re just here to research the Barrier,” Gaster explained. “All we’re doing is taking some measurements. The head guard even has an official letter that says what we’re doing, go ask him about it.”

“And leave you three all alone again? Yeah, right.” Undyne looked the three monsters up and down. “Why should I even believe you guys are scientists? You don’t have lab coats or anything.”

Sans cocked a brow. “We, uh, don’t really wear lab coats outside the lab. This is fieldwork.”

“Why should we believe you’re a guard? You definitely don’t look like one,” Gaster argued, pointing at her tank top and pants.

“Well, technically I’m off-duty today. But justice never rests! And I’m not gonna just stand by when something looks funny to me!” Undyne tightened the grip on her spear, making sparks of energy fly off. “I’m one of King Asgore’s students, so if you were supposed to be here, he would have told me about it.”

“M-maybe he just forgot to tell you?” Alphys offered. “I mean, he m-must be pretty busy-“

“Asgore wouldn’t forget to tell me anything!” Undyne snapped. “Now, you all need to come with me or else you’ll be in big trouble.”

Gaster frowned. He had a hard time believing this monster was a guard, let alone a student of Asgore’s. "Alright, this is ridiculous,” he said. “I’m going to go find a real guard to deal with you.” He was only able to take a few steps before several blue spears erupted in front of him. He stumbled backwards, nearly falling to the floor.

“I didn’t say you could move!” Undyne barked. “You aren’t going anywhere!”

Gaster’s soul pounded as he looked up from the spears that had almost impaled him. “Can you stop with the arrows already??” he asked indignantly.

“Not until you start listening to me!”

Gaster’s patience was wearing thin. “You aren’t listening to us! I’m trying to tell you what we’re doing here! We’re not up to anything!”

“I’m not taking that chance!” Undyne hurled her spear at the other three monsters. They ducked, letting the attack sail right over their heads. Instead, it collided with the Barrier at the back of the cavern. Waves of cyan magic rippled through it as it absorbed the spear’s energy.

Gaster, Alphys and Sans could only stare helplessly. They hadn’t even gotten a single measurement, and now anything they did take would be unusable. The fish-monster had ruined their entire trip.

“Consider that a warning shot,” she said. “I don’t usually give those, so be thankful for that.”

Gaster turned back to the fish-monster, pointing at the Barrier. “Thankful? Do you have any idea what you just did?! Your magic affected the whole Barrier! Now we can’t even do what we came here for!”

“Then I’ve done my job. Now, if you still don’t come with me, I’ll-“

There was a loud ‘PING!’. Undyne’s soul lit up with blue light, and she was jerked a few feet in the air. She flailed her limbs as her remaining arrows dissipated. Below her, Sans kept firm control over her soul through her struggling.

“HEY! WHAT THE HELL??” she snarled down at him.

“Hey, don’t take it personally. I think your desire to protect the kingdom is uplifting, but you’re being kind of a problem right now.” He turned to Alphys. “I can hold her while you and G go find an actual guard to help us with this.” The fish-monster kept thrashing and twisting her body, trying in vain to break free of the blue magic. “… Just, uh, try to be quick about it.”

Alphys scurried to Gaster's side and they began hurrying towards the exit. She looked up at him once they were out of earshot. “A-are you okay??” she fretted. “You could’ve been killed!”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he told her. He was still rattled, but at least he was in one piece. “We really need to find someone before-“

They heard a loud bellow behind them. Gaster looked back right as Undyne threw a spear down at Sans. Startled, he jumped sideways out of its direct path, but it still managed to graze his arm. He yelled out in pain, and Undyne fell to the ground as he lost his hold on her soul.

“SANS!” Gaster and Alphys both exclaimed, running back over to his side. Undyne took the opportunity to scramble back to her feet as they tended to their friend.

“Maybe now you’ll follow my orders,” she growled, conjuring up another spear. “I’m not in the mood for games.”

Gaster bristled, whipping around to face her. “What the fuck is your problem?!” he shouted, gesturing at the other skeleton. “Sans wasn’t even attacking you! You had no reason to do that!”

Undyne clutched her spear with both hands, adopting a battle stance. “Threatening a guard is a serious offense!” she retorted. “And using soul magic counts! You’re all gonna be in deep shit when I’m done with you!”

As they both glared at each other, something inside Gaster finally snapped. He’d had more than enough of this monster, and he wasn’t going to keep waiting around for someone else to come and help. “Alright, that is it.” He stepped towards her. “You threatened us, you ruined our work, and now you’re attacking us! I am done with you!”

Before Undyne could make another move, he gathered up his own magic and started summoning an attack. Two large, beastly skulls quickly materialized on either side of him. They didn’t look like the skull of any existing creature - their bottom jaws were split down the middle and filled with long teeth, and they were adorned with small spikes. White rings of light glowed from their orbits, eyeing their target. Undyne gaped in disbelief.

Gaster stared her down, eye sockets completely black. “Now,” he said icily. “Are you going to cut it out, or do you want to try attacking us again? Because if you do…”

The skulls opened their jaws, magic gathering in their mouths.

“…You are REALLY not going to like what happens next.”

Undyne didn't say anything. She obviously had fighting experience, but by the look on her face, she’d never encountered magic like this. Gaster hoped it would be intimidating enough to make her stop assailing them.

After a moment, she snapped out of her stupor, her face hardening with resolve. “I am not backing down,” she said, looking Gaster in the eye. “I’m staying right here.”

He hadn’t been expecting that response. He’d been certain she would give up or run - everyone else did when they first saw his Blasters. It hadn’t even crossed his mind to make a Plan B.

Shit. Shit shit shit, this was a stupid idea! What had he been thinking? What was he supposed to do now?? He felt his control on the Blasters slipping, riling them up even more. He refocused, reining them back in before they could fire at the fish-monster. Somehow, he managed to keep his outward expression from reflecting his inner state. The best he could do was stall until he either thought of something else or someone finally showed up. “…Well, I’m not backing down either,” he finally said. “Not until you agree to quit it.”

“Well, there’s no way in hell I’m doing that!”

“Then I guess we’ve reached a stalemate.”

There was a pause. Gaster wondered if she was reconsidering what she was doing. Suddenly, Undyne jumped aside in an attempt to surprise him. Just as quickly, one of the magical skulls fired off a small blast of magic that hit a couple feet in front of her. Not close or powerful enough to hurt her, but enough to stop her in her tracks.

She glared again at the skeleton, and he returned the look. “Consider that a warning shot,” he said. She growled in frustration.

Gaster wasn’t entirely sure how much of that last shot was him and how much was the Blaster’s doing. His panic grew. What was he supposed to do if she did that again? He didn’t actually want to hurt her. He didn’t want any of this. He prayed that things wouldn’t escalate further.

They continued their staredown. Nobody moved or said a word. Gaster occasionally heard shuffling noises from the two monsters behind him, but it was otherwise quiet. After a few long minutes, Gaster broke the silence. “Alphys, how’s Sans doing?” he asked, without turning back to look at her. He didn’t dare take his eyes off of Undyne.

“Uh, he’s… alright, I think. I-it’s not too bad,” the lizard monster replied.

“’M okay,” Sans groaned unconvincingly.

“See? Your friend is fine,” Undyne said. “So how about you put your freaky skull things away and-“

“Yeah, I don’t think so.” The blasters opened their jaws a bit more. His desire to protect his friends outweighed his reluctance to use his attack. He wasn’t going to give her any leeway.

She scowled, tightening the grip on her spear. “You can’t keep this up forever. You’ll exhaust your magic sooner or later.”

“I don’t need to last forever - I just need to outlast you. Unless you just want to give up right now?”  Gaster knew there was no way he had more stamina than her, but she didn’t know that. As long as he acted confident, she might actually believe him.

She didn’t seem to be fazed. “No way am I going to submit to some punk bag of bones like you. I’m not afraid of you or your weird attack!” One of the Blasters snapped at her; Undyne instinctively took half a step back.

“If you say so,” Gaster replied, shrugging. He couldn’t help but smirk a little.

Undyne glared harder at him. “God, you are such an asshole.”

He scoffed. “I’m an asshole? You attacked us first! You’re the one who’s playing vigilante here!”

“I’m not a vigilante! I told you I’m a Royal Guard!”

“A real Royal Guard would be protecting citizens, not terrorizing them!”

“Terrorizing??” Undyne snarled. “You have a LOT of nerve accusing me-“

“What on Earth is going on over here?” a low voice interrupted from the hallway. Gaster watched as King Asgore himself stepped into the room, ducking his head to avoid hitting the top of the door. His eyes widened when he saw the scene before him. “Oh, my.”

“Y-your majesty!” Gaster stammered, his concentration breaking. The Blasters grumbled a little before dissipating in a cloud of purple magic. The skeleton had never felt more relieved. “Thank god you’re here!” He pointed at Undyne. “I don’t know who this thug thinks she is, but-“

“These three punks are here without permission!” Undyne interjected. “The short guy used magic on me, and then beanpole here threatened me with his crazy skull creatures-“

“You attacked us! You hit Sans with your spear!”

“You guys weren’t LISTENING to me-“

“Alright, alright, everyone settle down!” Asgore held up a large hand to silence both of them. He walked over to Undyne. “Is this why I didn’t find you in the garden for your training session?”

Gaster froze. Training session?

“Well, yeah!” she replied. “I had to keep an eye on them! I didn’t know whether they were supposed to be here or not!”

Gaster’s relief at the king’s arrival quickly turned to dread. Undyne really was one of Asgore's students. If that was the case, there was no way he’d be getting out of this situation unscathed.

Asgore looked over at the three scientists. “And what are you doing here, exactly?”

Gaster started as the king addressed them. “Oh, uh, we were just… collecting data on the Barrier - I mean, at least we were going to. But then this fish-monster came in and interrupted us.”

“Oh, yes. You must be the ones from the Barrier study.”

“Wait, what??” Undyne asked incredulously. “You knew they were coming? Why didn’t I hear about this??”

“I must have forgotten to mention it,” Asgore said. “…Even so, you are not on duty today. All you came here for was to meet with me, not take care of suspected criminals. You should have brought it up to another guard, at the very least.” He glanced back at the doorway. “And I would have expected you to stay within the throne room while these three were working.”

Undyne opened her mouth to protest, but closed it again without a word. Asgore turned back to the scientists. “Now, what happened that led to the, ah… confrontation that I saw?” he asked, looking at Gaster again.

“Uh…” He grew cold. How could he ever explain pulling his attack out on one of the king’s students? “I… uh, I-I mean, we - we were just… Undyne was going to - I mean, I-I would never actually-“

“Gaster only used his attack after she hit me,” Sans interjected.

Both monsters looked over at the skeleton. “We were just setting up when she kinda… barged in here and demanded we come with her. We all tried to explain ourselves but she wouldn’t listen, and she started throwin’ spears at us.” He glanced over at Undyne, who only glared back. “I tried to restrain her with my magic first, but then she got me with one of her spears. G used his magic before she could attack us again.” Alphys stayed quiet, but backed Sans up with a lot of nodding, avoiding looking directly at Asgore.

“Hey, you left out the part where your friend fired at me,” Undyne contended.

Gaster faltered. “W-well, yeah - but I missed you by like, two feet!” he countered. “You gave us a warning shot first, so I figured I’d return the favor.”

Asgore gave him a questioning look. “You fired your attack at her?”

“I… did… but that was after she tried to attack us first, and after she hurt Sans. I didn’t actually want to hurt her, but I – I didn’t know how else to get her to stop,” he answered. It was a terrible explanation, he realized. He was doomed.

“I see,” Asgore said. “You are aware that attacking a Royal Guard is punishable by law, aren’t you?”

“Of course, but…”

Once again, Sans jumped in. “With all due respect, Your Majesty, Gaster – all of us – were just trying to defend ourselves. We had no idea if she was actually a guard or just some random monster that was trying to kill us.”

Asgore’s expression became thoughtful. “Hmm… that is a fair point.” He turned to Undyne. “Did you show these three any proof you were a Royal Guard? Your badge, perhaps?”

Undyne looked away. “Well, no. I don’t have it with me.”

“Did you ask anyone else about them before you came in here?”

“Uhhhhh… no. I thought I could deal with them by myself.” Her ear-fins drooped slightly.

Asgore sighed. “Undyne, please wait for me out in the gold hall. We’ll talk more when I’m done here.”

“Yes, Asgore.” She shuffled out of the room.

Asgore watched until she was gone before turning back to the three monsters before him. He’d barely opened his mouth before Gaster decided to speak first.

“King Asgore, before you decide anything, I just want to remind you that these two didn’t do anything,” he sputtered, gesturing at his companions. “I was the one who escalated things!”

“What? No, you weren’t,” Sans interrupted. “She attacked us first, G, don’t take the fall for this.”

“I fired at her! A Royal Guard!”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Asgore said. “Let’s all calm back down.”

Gaster couldn’t relax very much, but fell quiet. He noticed Sans grimace a bit, adjusting his grip on his arm. Alphys took a step towards him. “Sans? A-are you okay?”

Sans hesitated. “Yeah, I’m alright. Just hurts a little.” Gaster couldn’t help but roll his eyes; Sans could be bleeding out on the floor and he would still insist he was fine.

Asgore looked at Sans with concern. “I suppose we should do something about your arm. I can heal it, if you’d like me to.”

“… Really?”

“Of course,” he said. “You did get injured by one of my students, after all. I think I should take partial responsibility.”

Sans looked down at his arm uncertainly. “Well, sure, if you really wanna.” He walked up to the king, carefully taking his hand off the wound. The boss monster held a large paw over it, glowing softly with green magic. After a few seconds, Sans was fully healed.

Asgore took a step back. “Is that better?”

Sans relaxed. “Yeah, a lot better. Thanks.” He rubbed the place where the injury used to be. “You, uh, really didn’t have to do that, you know.”

“Oh, it’s hardly any trouble.” Asgore was quiet for a moment, scratching his beard thoughtfully. “You know, I should’ve remembered to tell Undyne about you all coming. She may be a guard, and has lots of potential, but she’s still fairly new. She also tends to be … rash in situations like this. I can’t blame you too much for trying to defend yourselves. How about we just put this all behind us and move on?”

Gaster stared at the boss monster. “But…Undyne is a guard. And one of your students! I almost hurt her! Aren’t you mad about that?”

Asgore chuckled a little. “I certainly could be. But believe me, it would take more than one attack to take Undyne down. You didn’t even want to hurt her in the first place, right?”

Gaster could hardly process what was happening. The king was completely serious. “In any case,” the boss monster continued. “I hope she didn’t derail your work too much.”

“Well…” Gaster rubbed the back of his neck. “Actually, Undyne kind of wrecked everything. We were supposed to observe the Barrier under normal circumstances, but one of her spears ended up hitting it. It’s really sensitive to contact with magic, so… now it’s not normal. We’d have to wait until it goes back to its regular state.”

“Oh.” Asgore furrowed his brow. “And how long will that take?”

Gaster could only shrug. “A few days, at least – probably longer. It depends on how powerful her magic was.” More potent magic was known to affect the Barrier for weeks. Undyne’s spears didn’t look like a particularly strong attack individually, but there was no way of knowing exactly how powerful it was. An uncontrolled variable like that would make things much more complicated if they tried to take any measurements now.

The king sighed. “Undyne…” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. The fish-monster was definitely giving him a run for his money. “There isn’t anything you’d be able to do here?”

“’Fraid not,” Sans said. “Everything we were going to do involved the Barrier.”

“I see.” Asgore looked over at the magical construct that trapped his people underground. “I’m really sorry about this whole mess; I should have remembered to tell Undyne.” He turned back to the scientists. “So, what are you going to do now?”

Gaster shrugged again. “Well, I guess we go back to the lab and tell them that the Barrier got disrupted before we could do anything. Someone else will have to come back here later to get measurements.”

“In that case, I can have a message sent to your lab explaining what happened, if that would help. I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble for something that wasn’t your fault.”

The skeleton blinked. He looked at Sans and Alphys, who looked as surprised as he was. He hadn’t expected Asgore to let any of them off the hook, let alone get involved with their employers. “Uh, yeah, s-sure… if you really want to.”

“Well, of course. It’s the least I can do to make up for all this. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

Gaster felt guilty about how much the king was doing for them already. “No, I don’t think so,” he said. “You’ve helped a lot already.”

“Then I suppose I shouldn’t keep you any longer. I’ll leave you to pack up all your things. You all take care, now. And you two…” He looked at the skeletons. “Just be careful with your magic.”

Sans shrugged. “Personally, I don’t think you have much to worry about. But yeah, we can do that.”

Satisfied, Asgore finally left the room. After a moment of shocked silence, Alphys laughed nervously. “Well, that was… something.”

“It really was,” Gaster agreed distantly, not taking his eyes off the exit.

Sans looked at him suspiciously. “You don’t feel guilty about any of this, do you? ‘Cause you really don’t need to.”

“I… I don’t know. Maybe?” Gaster started walking back over to their equipment. “I don’t get why Asgore would do anything for us after all this.”

“I think he’s just l-like that,” Alphys said. “He likes helping where he can.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Gaster agreed. “I guess I also feel… embarrassed, or something?” He sighed. “I should’ve controlled my emotions better. I really don’t like anyone to see that side of me.”

“Well, that side of you saved our butts today, so I’m not complainin’,” Sans said as he followed the other skeleton.

“Hey, you argued us out of getting in trouble.I would’ve been done for if you hadn’t come along.”

“Well, you also tried to take the blame for everything,” Alphys chimed in. “Which was really dumb, by the way.”

“I didn’t want anything to happen to you guys! We’re only here today because of me.”

“G.” Sans adopted a more serious tone. “Literally no one could have guessed this would happen. None of this was your fault.”

“Don’t forget that Sans used his magic, too,” Alphys pointed out. “And, uh, maybe the two of us could have done more to de-escalate things… or something.”

Sans nodded. “Either way, Undyne was the one who started it all. As far as I’m concerned, she can take most of the blame.” He put the last item into his case and closed it. “Look, let’s just get back to the lab, deal with not having any data, and forget about this whole day.”

“I’m good with that,” Alphys said.

“Fine with me.” Gaster was more than happy to leave and never have to deal with the Barrier – or Undyne – ever again.

***

None of them spoke as they left the Barrier room. Whether they got in trouble over it or not, they weren’t excited to have to go back to work with nothing, and the impending disappointment hung over them like a storm cloud. They proceeded down the hallway to the throne room, the light gradually getting stronger. The throne room greeted them with its full brightness and garden, but they didn’t stay around to appreciate their surroundings.

At this point the silence had become unbearable. “What do you think will happen to Undyne?” Alphys finally asked, stopping before they entered the next hall.

“Who knows,” Gaster said. “Asgore said she still had things to work on. If that’s true, then maybe she shouldn’t even be a guard.”

“I-I don’t know… maybe she should get a second chance. Like Asgore said, she just n-needs to work on a few things,” Alphys said.

Both Gaster and Sans stopped and looked back at her. She looked away quickly. “I-I mean, what happened wasn’t okay, but, uh, she… she has all the good qualities of a guard, too!”

Sans cocked a brow. “Alphys, she hit me. That’s kind of a big deal.”

“N-no, that wasn’t good, b-but I just…” She trailed off, blushing.

For a moment, the skeletons stared at her. Then Sans began to snicker. “Alphys, do you like her or something?” he asked.

“W-w-what?? No! Don’t be ridiculous! That’s- you don’t-“ Alphys stumbled over her words again, stepping back. “W-we don’t even know her!”

“Dang, Alphys, falling for Asgore and his apprentice. What, does she remind you of an anime warrior princess?”

“Shut up!” Alphys hissed, face reddening even more.

Gaster rolled his eyes. “Knock it off, Sans. I don’t think we’re really in the mood for this.”

The other skeleton chuckled. “Sorry, Al. It’s just… she doesn’t seem like the type you’d be into. But hey, I won’t judge.”

Alphys grumbled. “Can we just forget about it? I doubt they’d ever send us back here, s-so… it’s not like I’ll ever see her again.”

“And I, for one, am grateful for that,” Gaster muttered. The mere thought of ever having to deal with Undyne again aggravated him. They left the throne room and garden behind, stepping into the so-called Golden Hallway. Several smaller hallways branched off of it on one side. Gaster scanned the wall opposite the windows, trying to remember which passage they’d come from. His eyes drifted up to the mural painted on the wall above the pillars. He hadn’t gotten a good look on the way to the Barrier, but now he noticed some of the more grisly scenes. Among the depictions of the monsters’ achievements and portraits of notable individuals, there were many images of the war with the humans long ago – some of which were surprisingly graphic. It was a jarring contrast to the serenity of the rest of the hall.

“Um… I think we c-came from the fourth one down,” Alphys said, averting her gaze. “The one under the part of the mural with… a bunch of humans stabbing a monster.”

“Pretty gross, huh?” another voice said.

Gaster snapped his head in the direction the voice had come from. Undyne emerged from behind one of the pillars of the hall, flashing a toothy grin at the small group.

Apparently the universe just hated the skeleton today. “Shouldn’t you be with Asgore by now?” he asked her flatly.

Undyne leaned against the pillar, crossing her arms. “Normally, yeah. He said he had to send something to your bosses or whatever first and told me to keep waiting here.” She looked at the three of them in turn. “So, you guys are leaving?”

“Well, yeah,” Sans replied. “We can’t really do anything with the Barrier right now.”

Undyne grumbled in annoyance. “Look, I’m sorry, I know I fucked up. But can you really blame me for assuming you were up to something when no one ever told me about you guys?” She looked directly at Gaster. “And it’s not like you’re entirely blameless, either.”

Any lingering guilt he had been feeling instantly evaporated. “Hey, you started it!” he contended. “We tried to reason with you, and you started throwing magic attacks at us. Did you expect us to just take it?” Undyne didn’t respond, so he went on. “Clearly, you don’t have the right temperament for a Royal Guard. I’d be surprised if Asgore didn’t fire you over this.”

The fish monster snorted. “Fire me? As if. I’ve known Asgore since I was a kid. It’ll take more than one little misunderstanding to get me kicked out of the Guard.”

“Little?” Gaster echoed. “You hit Sans, you ruined our observations, everyone at work will be pissed at us because we have no data… ‘little’ is an understatement!”

“Okay, fine, it wasn’t just a little misunderstanding. I said I was sorry, what more do you want from me?”

“You could leave us alone, for starters. The king can take care of the rest.”

Gaster felt a nudge and noticed Sans was now standing next to him. “G, come on, let’s just go. It’s not worth dealing with her.”

Gaster gave Undyne one last look before taking a deep breath. “Yeah, you’re right.” He turned back to the passage that they’d been heading to. “Well, if you’re done with your half-assed apology, we’ll be going on our way.”

“Woah, hey, not so fast!” Undyne rushed forward, stopping right in front of him. “Okay, look, we got off on the wrong foot there. I was actually thinking maybe we could… talk a little?”

Gaster glared down at her. “Forget it. I think you’ve interacted with us enough for-“

“I don’t wanna talk with all you punks,” Undyne interrupted. “Just you, tall guy.”

He raised a brow. “You can’t be serious.”

“Look, just hear me out,” said the fish-monster. “If you don’t like what I say, then you and your pals can leave and I’ll never bother you again, I swear.”

Gaster peered back at the other two monsters. Sans shrugged hesitantly and Alphys looked away, but neither objected to letting him and Undyne talk. The skeleton turned back to her. “Fine. Tell me what you want to – but make it quick.” He set down his case of equipment and folded his arms.

Undyne grinned in satisfaction. Gaster was unsettled; less than an hour ago she'd been ready to kill them all, but now she was eager to make small talk with him. He was starting to question her sanity.

“Okay, so… you’ve got a pretty powerful special attack, huh?”

Gaster blinked. Of all the topics she might have wanted to discuss, he hadn’t expected her to ask about his magic. “I... suppose?” he answered.

“How powerful are those skull things, exactly?”

Gaster already didn’t like where this conversation was going. “I don’t really know, honestly. I’ve never tested them or anything. All I know is that whatever I’ve used them on has gotten really damaged or destroyed.”

Undyne nodded. “Interesting. And what kind of things have you used them on?”

The skeleton tried to remember everything he’d fired his Blasters at. “Things at the dump, boulders, tree stumps… textbooks that your college won’t buy back… that kind of stuff. Nothing important.”

“But have you like, used them on another monster? I know you gave me a warning shot back there, but-”

“What? No, of course not! I wouldn’t want to actually hurt someone with them! Did you not hear me say that to the king?”

“Hey, chill, it was just a question.”

Gaster narrowed his eyes. Was she really interested in his magic, or was she just trying to get a rise out of him? “What exactly are you getting at? I told you to make this quick, so cut to the chase already.”

Undyne grumbled. “Alright, fine.” She paused to think about what to say next. “Uh, okay, I bet this’ll sound crazy, but… have you ever thought about joining the Royal Guard?”

He stiffened. “Joining the Royal Guard?"

“Well, yeah, why not?” Undyne gave him another toothy smile. “You’ve got a hell of an attack, and I’m sure you’re a little tougher than you look. Plus, it looks like you’ve seen your fair share of scuffles, right?”

Gaster looked away sheepishly. Everyone seemed to be interested in the fractures today. “Uh, not exactly. The cracks are just from a stupid accident.”

“Oh,” Undyne said, slightly less enthusiastic. “Well still, you haven’t ever thought about becoming a Royal Guard?”

“Not really, no.”

“Come on, I’m sure you’d be fine! You might even be really good at it.”

“No.” Gaster tried stepping around her, but she blocked him.

“Can’t you at least think it over for a bit?”

He scowled. “What part of ‘no’ don’t you understand? I’m not joining the Royal Guard.”

“Why the hell not?” Undyne demanded. “You want to waste all that potential just to do a bunch of nerd stuff? You’d be a huge asset against a human! Don’t you care about the rest of monsterkind??”

“Of course I do! But I don’t want to do this!” Gaster shot back, gesturing at the violent art above them. “Didn’t you say you would leave me alone if I didn’t like what you said? Because I really don’t.”

“Well, I didn’t actually expect you to refuse an invitation to the Royal Guard,” Undyne spat. “It’s not just about you, this involves every monster that’s trapped down here. Think about everyone else!”

“What I do with my life is none of your business! I worked hard to get where I am, and I’m not throwing it all away to work with some brute like you.” He tried to step around the fish monster a second time, but she blocked his path again.

“If you would just listen-“

“No, I’m done listening to you! So back off!” The skeleton finally managed to outmaneuver Undyne, storming off in the direction he and his companions had been headed. Sans and Alphys followed after him, leaving Undyne behind in the hall.

***

In the castle’s gray passages, Gaster stewed in his own thoughts. He should’ve known better than to let Undyne talk to him after seeing his attack. Of course the only thing she cared about was how strong his magic was. Of course she didn’t care what he’d already chosen to do with his life. Of course she would try to get him to join the Royal Guard. And of course she’d say he was selfish when he refused.

He’d heard it all before. Several times.

“G, wait up!” Sans called from behind him, pulling him out of his thoughts. Gaster slowed down. Part of him wanted to stay far ahead of them to process his emotions alone, but leaving Sans and Alphys behind would make it harder for any of them to find their way back. He decided to stop, but barely acknowledged his friends once they reached him.

Alphys looked up at the skeleton. “Gaster, um… a-are you okay?” she asked.

Gaster huffed. “No, not really.” He started walking again.

“Geez, she sure pissed you off back there,” Sans remarked.

“It isn’t just her. It’s…” Gaster hesitated. “Never mind. It’s nothing.”

“Sure doesn’t seem like it.”

“It’s lame, old family drama. I’m sure you don’t want to hear about it.” Usually he’d tell his friends at least a little about something that was bothering him, but talking about his family was particularly uncomfortable. As far as he remembered, he’d never talked to Sans or Alphys about them.

“Family drama?” Sans repeated. “Like, your mom and sister?”

“Oh, god, no. It’s on my dad’s side of the family.”

Alphys’s eyes widened. “Your dad’s side? I’ve never heard you mention anyone else in your family.”

“Yeah. It’s not exactly my favorite subject,” Gaster admitted. “I probably shouldn’t be letting it get to me this much.” He hadn’t even seen his relatives in a long time. Surely nothing they’d ever said should still bother him at this point in his life.

Alphys looked up at him with concern. “Would, um, talking more about it help?”

He slowed down a little. “I’m not sure. I’ve never told you guys anything about this, so...”

“I-I mean, you don’t have to,” Alphys added. “But we’d both listen. Right, Sans?”

“Sure,” he replied. “Listening is pretty easy.”

Gaster mulled it over. “… Alright, I could tell you a little bit. Just don’t judge me or anything, okay?”

“What, didja murder someone?” Sans quipped. “Cuz I might have some problems with that.”

Gaster laughed a little, despite himself. “No, it’s not quite that bad.” He walked over to a nearby wall and leaned back against it. “Well, to make a long story short, when I was growing up I had a lot of family members telling me to join the Royal Guard because of my special attack. No matter how many times I said no, someone would always bring it back up. It was a big deal for most of them.”

“Why’s that?” Sans set his case down on its edge and sat on it, careful not to tip it over.

“That would be the long version,” Gaster replied. “There’s a lot to it.”

“Like…?” Alphys prompted.

Did they really want to know more? Gaster worried about what they might think if he gave them all the details. Then again, these two were far different from anyone in his family. It wasn't likely that his friends would have the same mindset as they did.

He took a deep breath before starting. “For starters, having Blasters is something that runs in my dad’s side of the family. They’ve always been a source of family pride. It’s pretty rare, but once in a while someone ends up with them.”

“When I was little I would hear stories from my relatives about monsters who had the Gaster Blasters. Almost everyone who got them ended up in the Royal Guard or something similar. Back then, I loved hearing about them, and before my magic developed I wanted so badly to end up with the Blasters, too.  When I passed the age most monster kids started using magic and still wasn’t able to do anything, I wanted them even more.”

“And then finally-“- Gaster threw his hands in the air - “The day came when I could use magic, and the first thing I conjure up is a pair of Blasters. Both my dad and I were pretty excited about it, but right after I told him, he sat me down and gave me a serious talk about how dangerous they could be. He told me that I had to be careful with them so I wouldn’t accidentally hurt someone. They have a mind of their own sometimes, so if you don’t know how to control them…”

He decided not to finish that thought. “And that’s when I realized what having the Blasters really meant. They weren’t just a cool magic attack anymore. They were weapons.” Gaster shifted uncomfortably. “The thought of actually having to hurt or even kill someone made me feel sick. If I went into anything like law enforcement or the Royal Guard, I knew I’d probably have to do that at some point, and that really upset me. One day I finally asked my dad if I would have to be in the Guard someday just because of my magic, and he said it was up to me. I could do whatever I wanted to, whether it involved the Blasters or not. And I was pretty happy with that.”

“But the rest of the family wasn’t too thrilled that I didn’t want to be a guard. They tried to bring it up all the time, but Dad would just shoot them down. I didn’t have to hear much about it for a long time.” Gaster sighed. “But after he died, pretty much all courtesy on the subject got thrown out the window. My mom and sister were still supportive of me, of course, but my relatives weren’t afraid to share their thoughts.”

His voice grew bitter. “Every time we had a gathering with them, at least one person would mention it. ‘Hey W.D., have you thought any more about enlisting into the King’s forces?’ ‘Come on, you’d do great in the Royal Guard!’ ‘How could you just waste a gift like that? Stop being selfish and think about the rest of monsterkind!’” He shook his head. “When I decided I wanted to go into the sciences, they became even more determined to change my mind. But I managed to hold my ground. After my dad first talked to me about the Blasters, I promised myself that I’d never use my attack on anybody – and I wanted to keep it that way.”

“But… what about today?” Alphys asked cautiously.

“Pfft, threatening someone with the Blasters is different than actually using them. I’ve summoned them a few times when going through the sketchy parts of the city and such. Just seeing them is enough to scare any troublemakers off.” For a second, he actually did feel proud to have them. “I was sure Undyne would do the same. Then when she didn’t, I kind of… panicked. It had never even crossed my mind to make a backup plan.” He looked away, embarrassed. He should have known better than to assume that someone who’d had fighting experience would turn tail and run.

“Look, the Blasters are a strong attack even without training. I don’t know how much damage mine could do to someone in one blast, but I know they have the potential to dust all kinds of monsters in one shot.” He looked at the floor. “If I wanted to, I could kill almost any monster in the Underground. Maybe even a human, if I really dedicated myself. It’s… kind of horrifying, honestly. I don’t like to think about it.”

An uncomfortable silence fell over the three of them. Gaster wondered if he’d given them too much information at once - or worse, that they felt the same way his relatives did.

Sans finally spoke up. “Geez, that’s some heavy stuff. I can see why Undyne aggravated you so much.”

Gaster released some of the tension he hadn’t even realized he was holding. “Yeah, everything she said was what everyone else told me about a hundred times. It brought up a lot of bad memories.”

“I bet,” Alphys said. “They all sound like a bunch of… well, jerks.”

“Well, some of them weren’t that bad about it.” Gaster shrugged. “But I hardly see them anymore, so if anyone still has a problem with it, at least I don’t have to hear their whining.”

He realized he did feel a little better now that he’d talked about his thoughts. It was even more reassuring knowing his friends were on his side. With a stretch, he stepped away from the wall. “Welp, I hope you guys enjoyed my tragic backstory.”

Alphys snorted. “Oh yeah, I loved it. Now we all know about each other’s tortured pasts, right?”

“Hey, we’re all still young. There’s still plenty of time for tragedy,” Sans said as he got up from his makeshift seat.

Gaster chuckled. “Wow, okay. That’s pretty dark.”

“What, I’m not allowed to do dark humor?”

“No, it’s just… weird, coming from you.”

“Hey, I’m more than just puns, you know.”

“Ah, of course. I just forgot in the deluge of wordplay you flood me and Alphys with every day.”

Somewhere in the city, a clock started chiming the hour. Alphys looked at her phone to confirm the time. “Oh geez, have we been standing here long? We need to get going again!”

“Alph, it’s only been like, 5 minutes.” Sans patted her shoulder. “We’re fine.”

“We should get moving again, though,” Gaster said. “If we take too long, someone might suspect we’re avoiding work altogether.” He grabbed the case sitting beside him.

They finally resumed walking, managing to remember the way they came in among the numerous passages of the castle. As they traveled, Sans slid over next to Alphys. “So,” he began. “About that fish-girl we just met – I bet you think she’d be a reel catch, huh?”

Alphys blushed. “Sans, I swear to god-“

“Hey, no need to be bassful about your new crush. Or are you still more interested in Asgore?”

Alphys got even redder, but the skeleton didn’t relent. “I think you have a chance with him, too. But first you goat to get his attention, be-fur someone else does.”

“Ugghhh!” Alphys shoved him away, making him snicker. “Gaster, can you get him to stop??”

Gaster smirked. “No, you kids need to settle this by yourselves.”

“Not you, too!”

He looked back at her quizzically. “What do you mean? I didn’t- ...oh, god.” He smacked his forehead. Kids. “Sans, stop corrupting me.”

“Whale, if you don’t like goat puns, I can go back to fish.” Sans caught up to Gaster. “My goat puns are kind of crappie anyways. So hey, any ideas on how Alphys can fin over Asgore or fish-girl? It’s fine if you need to mullet over for a bit. Personally, I think she should be honest about her eelings, but I trout she’d want to be that up front about it-“

“Sans,” Gaster said.

“Yeah?”

“Will you please shut up?”

[thesinglesjukebox]

LOONA - FAVORITE

[5.89]

Come back in a few months when every single TSJ writer will be writing on Loona's next single, because we're just working up to our real debut here too. Maybe.

Joshua Minsoo Kim: LOONA's pre-debut was so successful in establishing the identities, personalities, and sounds of each individual member (and consequent subunits) that it was hard to imagine what a collective debut single could've looked like. It turns out that Blockberry Creative's plan was to use the Odd Eye Circle strategy of providing two polar opposite singles in order to appease as many fans as possible. "Favorite" was the first glimpse of the 12-member group, and it's the "Sweet Crazy Love" of the pair. While I wasn't expecting there more personality than what was present in previous releases, the result is even worse than expected: a greyscale, ready-made composite. The Desiigner-like adlibs lack energy, the bridge doesn't provide a strong enough contrast to feel the least bit smooth, and the entire 2000s brass-stomp beat is sorely muted. While altogether seamless, it's hard to imagine "Favorite" being anyone's, well, favorite. One wishes the song capitalized on the strengths of its members more, but it doesn't really matter at this point: biases have been determined, and fans are just happy to see that everyone's got some lines. Even the title is stylized to announce that this is the OT12 they've been waiting for. A shame that this is the result. [3]

Iain Mew: It's funny that they stylised the title with OT capitalised, because surely if ever there was a group where the full group isn't the One True thing, it's Loona. The journey and all the different true forms along the way were at least as important as the destination, and that would be the case even if that destination wasn't a below par f(x) album track. [6]

Jessica Doyle: Twelve is a lot of performers, and I suspect that after a few establishing rounds Blockberry Creative will rely mostly on subunits and combinations thereof, a slightly more flexible version of EXO's strategy. That said, this does do its best to make a virtue of the clutter. (And "tie up my shoes and do it" will be my motto for fall semester.) [6]

Will Rivitz: All the parts of the Loona machine finally slam together with neutrino-bomb force, as expected. I just wish it didn't sound like they were trying so hard -- power is that much more impressive when wielded nonchalantly, and this is about as nonchalant as a high school pep rally. [6]

Anjy Ou: It's a strange sensation hearing a style of music that I only ever hear on the streets of DC in my K-pop. But as the genre expands globally, companies are casting a wide net to find new sounds for their artists. I particularly love it when go-go music shows up because it's (a) perfect for dancing (b) a specific touchpoint to a city I love -- despite gentrifiers trying desparately to just make it all go away. LOONA kills it on this track, which I've loved since they danced to a demo version at their debut showcase. The horns, the call-and-response, the percussion, and the fact that the song is just a dance jam, are all quintessential go-go, with a cute contemporary switch-up on the second chorus to let you catch your breath. I have a feeling the "rrrrrrrah!" will be controversial, but I love it. It's almost an ululation, an expression of pure joy that fits the song's "letting my hair down, ecstatically in love" vibe. The only downside to having all 12 girls singing is that we can't appreciate the depth of the group's vocal talent -- Haseul only gets 2(!) solo lines. But my fave Jinsoul gives me AD-LIBS -- which are surprisingly rare in girl group songs these days -- and the sub-units will continue to promote. LOONA is here to stay and to slay. #StanLOONA #StreamHiHigh [8]

Thomas Inskeep: Clattering and chaotic like the best TRL-era hits by Britney-and-the-rest, "Favorite" beats you into submission like a much louder version of Dream's forgotten 2001 hit "He Loves U Not." To paraphrase "And I Am Telling You I'm Not Going," you're gonna love them -- even if it kills you. But you'll die smiling. [7]

Katherine St Asaph: If you're going to pour years into some kind of labyrinthine ARG rollout, I expect the result to be something other than a pretty good Jessie Malakouti song. [5]

Edward Okulicz: Suspending one's disbelief is sometimes fun and sometimes necessary when approaching the absurd in pop. And yes, I'm willing to suspend it and go, yes, these girls are having a great time and are not overworked cogs in a terrifying machine. I'm willing to go along with pretending this is a debut single just because it's the first with the full line-up. But I'm not willing to swoon over a track that would have sounded warm at best 15 years ago (though really, this style was perfected by Amerie and there's no possibility to match that) and really wants for a strong voice, or a strong personality to sell it to me rather than just being an Event to consume for the sake of consuming a band. [5]

Alex Clifton: Part of the appeal of Loona has, of course, been the extended rollout of the member lineup. I've followed it half-heartedly, and I know the thrill of finally seeing these twelve girls together packs more of an emotional punch for those who have been longtime fans of the project. It's difficult to pick out who's who as a casual listener, and I'm a little in awe of how they've managed to pack twelve people in for one song. It's bonkers and sweet at the same time, but lacks some of the bubblegum rush that propelled last year's "Girl Front" to the top of my workout playlist. But it's a great debut for the group at large, and I remain curious to see what comes next. [7]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]

[axiomsofice]

21/22 Power Rankings: Atlantic

TAMPA BAY

What more can be said of the back to back champs? Without many questions at any position, the Lightning are an easy choice to put first here. Although, like last season, we might see them finish somewhere after first in their division as they prioritize health into the playoffs, as the look to increase their strong chances at defending their title successfully. Sure, Johnson and Gourde are elsewhere, but Tampa has great depth with many underutilized forwards vying for playing time, not to mention Kucherov returning to regular season play. Up front, Mathieu Joseph, Ross Colton, and Alex Barre-Boulet will be looking to run with the openings before them, and in truth all 3 have already proven effective in their time filling in last season. Meanwhile a pair of veteran depth pieces come into fold as well. Pierre-Edouard Bellemare is the archetypal 4th line centre, and has been the gold standard for years across many teams, IMO truly a joy. Corey Perry will join him and Patrick Maroon on what looks to be a line that will be a handful the longer the season goes.

On the back end not much needs to be said, as the likes of Hedman, McDonagh,Sergachev, Cernak, and Rutta have proven to be a force. Enter Zach Bogosian, who represents an upgrade in the spot once filled by Luke Schenn or Brayden Coburn, and potentially an appearance by Cal Foote. Of course, Vasilevskiy is the top goalie in the world, so there’s not much else one could desire in the crease.

BOSTON

Another longstanding contender who may coast thru the regular season a little, we shouldn’t expect anything less than the usual strong results for the Bruins. Some change in recent years, notably Krejci, Halak, and Miller’s departures, seem to give a different look to the roster, but the show will roll on. Taylor Hall signing at a nice AAV ensures some scoring will be present beyond The Perfection Line, but alongside Debrusk, Smith, Coyle, Haula, and Nick Foligno fills out the Bruins’ middle 6 forwards with a lot of size, speed, and skill. I know Trent Frederic will be a great Bruin because I “hate” (in a good way) him already. The sun is getting lower for Jack Studnicka’s time as a prospect, but some fans are expecting/hoping he’s ready to make a splash this season.

Charlie McAvoy gets comically little recognition as one of the league’s premier defencemen, and fits the Bruins’ historical stereotype perfectly. The good news for him is that the better part of the next decade should see him playing at a Norris Trophy level, so there’s no way that lack of appreciation can continue, right? Forbort will bring a lot of what left with Kevan Miller. Do not underestimate Connor Clifton, and especially Matt Grzelcyk, as the former BU Captain has been a crucial piece for B’s the past 4 seasons. Mike Reilly really came into his own over the past 2 seasons, and his offensive abilities are a welcome fit with the rest of the group. Perhaps we see Urho Vaakanainen force his way into a regular spot this year, but with another year before waiver eligibility it might be another season in the AHL.

Rask might return at some point, but Linus Ullmark will be looking to take off now free from Buffalo. He’s shown good results considering the team in front of him, but Boston’s strong defensive play has made it easier for all of their goalies to perform well, including the young backup Jeremy Swayman.

TORONTO

The Leafs have a lot to prove, and I’m not referencing the playoffs. Their status as a true cup contender has been us getting way ahead of ourselves, although they have the talent to get there at some point. In truth, last season was the first time the Buds paced their division, clinched a playoff spot early, or even posted top 10 goals against numbers. Obviously, last season was short and strange, so proving these things in a full season *is* the next step facing this group. They have a lot more to prove in the regular season than Tampa or Boston, so this group should be focused and ruthless in their pursuit of putting together a dominant and consistent regular season.

Admittedly as a Leafs fan, I have too many thoughts to post here regarding the specifics of the team here, so I’ll stick to some big picture analysis. If this group loses to Boston or Tampa in the first round it the year a waste or a failure? Should the coach, GM, core 4, president, be moved on from automatically? Simply put, no. I understand and appreciate the passion these thoughts come from but it’s important to maintain perspective. This team is good, the players are good, the lineup on paper is good, the prospect pool is good, the depth is intriguing, but not yet great. They have performed like a good team over the past 5 seasons, which isn’t nothing, but not like a great one. I’d argue they’ve done a good job living up to that and that we’ve misdiagnosed them as a team that is already great. Yes I’d love to win a cup or even a round here, but the standard of success and belief this organization has built for itself in the Matthews era should not be unappreciated.

FLORIDA

Like Toronto, the Panthers will be hungry to prove that winning their division last year was no fluke. Personally, I would have voted GM Zito for the Jim Gregory Trophy last season, as he managed to infuse the Panthers’ skilled lineup with some of the toughness Columbus iced during his time there. Even more important is adding such pieces that are in phase with the team’s existing age. Duclair, Bennett, and Verhaeghe are primed to show their performances last season are repeatable, while Sam Reinhardt will look to flourish in a new role on a respectable team. Tippett and Lundell give the Panthers’ lineup a tantalizing potential and could easily form into the league’s best 3rd line, and help the offence as as whole rise to the top group in the league. Perhaps we see Denisenko join them in the Panthers’ ranks at some point this season.

The defence group is really fun, especially if Aaron Ekblad can get back to full health paired alongside Mackenzie Weegar, and resume their elite play. Brandon Montour went from blue-chip to scrap heap in Buffalo, but I like his skillset a lot, especially since it compliments the ruggedness of Forsling, Gudas, and Nutivaara quite well.

The goaltending situation is talented and volatile, perhaps more so than any other team in the NHL. Sure, Bobrovsky is overpaid (contracts have disappeared before) and has struggled during his time in Florida, but stranger things have happened than the idea of him rediscovering his game. Meanwhile backup Spencer Knight has quickly risen to the NHL and has performed exceptionally at every level along the way, and on a rookie deal is underpaid, meaning for the next 3 years Bob’s contract is much more manageable. That being said, a goalie’s path especially is rarely a straight line (see Carter Hart), so it’s not unexpected or too concerning if Knight goes through a rough patch at some point. Of course, it will be on the team in front of them to help put them in a good position for success.

MONTREAL

Wow, what to make of this group. A roller coaster set of years where the Habs dredged through a regular season before a playoff glow-up, thrown in with some key injuries to Price and Weber, a rotation at centre (losing Danault and Kotkaniemi while adding Dvorak), and a full season of the dynamic Cole Caulfield, it’s hard what to make of this group. The strength of the team is along the wings, as Caulfield, Gallagher, Toffoli, Hoffman, Anderson, Drouin, Armia, Byron, and Lekhonen is a strong and deep group with a good blend of skills. Suzuki and Dvorak is a good start down the middle, and both their lines should perform well thanks to their multi-faceted games and strong linemates. Evans is valued by the organization and his responsible play fits what Montreal clearly looks for from their centres, meaning Mathieu Perrault will be well insulted as an offensively oriented bottom 6 centre.

Petry will continue to be the Habs best defenceman, while Edmundson, Chiarot, and Savard will see to it that the Habs have a defensively minded beast of an athlete on each pair. Romanov is ready for a bigger role, and is equal parts feisty and skilled. There are some wildcards as Chris Wideman returns to the NHL, after the 31 year old spent a few seasons out of the league. His offensive skillset might be a great fit. I like Kulak as a 3rd pair option, but there is a chance either Mattias Norlinder or Josh Brook factor into the mix at some point. Seeing how long it took for Romanov to (hopefully) work his way into the lineup, it seems more likely Montreal will take their time on that idea.

Price made me feel good in the playoff run, vindicating my years of support for him despite inconsistent years. He should be ready for the start of the season, and will settle into a strong groove. Allen will need to continue to play a significant amount of games. The Habs are a much stronger playoff team than regular season team, mostly due to how they defend. This is to say, these goalies will continue to have a much harder time in the regular season than they will in the post season. The hope is now that their increased firepower up front helps them clinch a playoff berth in a very competitive Eastern Conference.

OTTAWA

GM Dorion did the right thing in saying the time to compete is now in Ottawa. Although many have questioned some of their recent draft choices, the Senators clearly have a vision of what they want to be. The statement is a commitment not to tank (you might end up with a high pick anyway), to play Logan Brown, Shane Pinto, and Alex Formenton in the NHL instead of prioritizing further seasoning in the minors, to start committing to the group that you want to win with (sign Tkachuk!). Stutzle is the Ferrari, the pure offensive talent, contrasted against a group that is rugged and tenacious. That’s not to say Batherson, Norris, Pinto, White, and Logan Brown don’t have offensive tools, but with Nick Paul, Connor Brown, Austin Watson, and of course Brady Tkachuk in the fold, the forward group seems like they would take pleasure in being a thorn in opponents’ sides down to the last second of the game, no matter the score. We might even see an appearance from Yegor Sokolov, who uh, fits their personality.

Chabot leads the back end, although Artyom Zub was really good in his rookie season. We’ll be hoping to see more from Erik Brannstrom, although it seems like he may not fit what Ottawa is looking for from the blueline. Mete is a good pickup, especially considering the trading of Mike Reilly, which I did not exactly understand (see win now comments). I like Zaitsev, although at this point no one is suggesting he’s a strong top 4 option. Holden and Del Zotto are expensive depth options, perhaps Ottawa can bring out what they see in these players. Lassi Thomson and Jacob Bernard-Docker are good prospects, but should see more time in the minors. The best version of this defence is probably not achieved until Jake Sanderson is a strong contributor, which is a year or two away still.

Murray is interesting, maybe he can find a strong season, but it’s hard to say he’ll be getting a raise next contract. Anton Forsberg has shown signs of a decent backup amidst his bouncing around the league, but I’m a fan of young Filip Gustavsson out of the 3. He was great across 9 NHL games last season, and ideallly would start pushing Murray for the crease starting this season.

DETROIT

The Wings are poised to start peeking out of their long rebuild, as we should start to see the bones of their true team coming to the forefront. It wouldn’t be the worst to end up with a high pick (again, lottery), but I don’t think it’s end their best interest to be intentionally making their team worse at this point. Larkin, Vrana, and to an extent Bertuzzi are legitimate top 6 forwards, and there’s at least some hope (varying degrees) that Zadina, Suter, and Rasmussen can join them. The lineup up front is filled out respectably by Fabbri and Namestnikov while Gagner, Stephens, and Erne will look to cement similar roles. The real fun is in the prospects, particularly Berggren, Raymond, and Veleno have a chance to push for a spot. The most likely to make the team outright this season is Berggren, who was spectacular in the SHL last season. Some older prospects who could finally earn an NHL job are Hirose and Smith, both of whom deserve a shot at such an opportunity.

The much anticipated debut of Moritz Seider is upon us, and the Red Wings have acquired a good partner for him in veteran Nick Leddy. Although he’s not what he was at his peak, his style of play and experience make him an ideal partner to start the defenders career. Dekeyser and Hronek are a decent pair, albeit overmatched for the assignments they will no doubt receive atop the depth chart. Ideally this will help Hronek continue to improve his game. Staal brings a good veteran presence, while Stecher and Oesterle are pretty good depth options. Young Gustav Lindstrom saw 13 games of action last season, and could be a real bright spot if he’s able to play his way into a regular spot. The strengthen the organization is the glut of talented defence prospects en route, Edvinsson, Tuomisto, Johnsson, McIssac (get well!), Wallinder, Buium, Sebrango, Viro, it’s almost hard to keep track, and harder still to envision a future where Detroit’s blueline isn’t very strong. I could be wrong, but it seems intentional (and smart) to start a rebuild with a strong group of D prospects, as forwards develop faster, fall more often in the draft, and are easier to acquire than impactful defenders. It’s be great to end up with Shane Wright, but it’s more likely to add a really skilled forward between 10-20 in the first round than a bonafide defender.

Nedeljkovic isn’t the first Calder worthy goalie to get traded although a 3rd round pick is not as steep as say Tuukka Rask… He won’t have it as easy behind a much worse team this season, but has been playing well long enough that I like his chances of growing into the starter role. Griess is an accomplished tandem-backup, and will be counted on to help Nedeljkovic ease into the top role. Cossa over Wallstedt was bold, but Detroit fans should feel really good about Yzerman getting the player he liked more. The Wings have a bunch of goalies in the system born between 1997-2002, so it will be interesting to see how they all shake out in the coming years as they approach starters age.

BUFFALO

I almost feel bad about putting the Sabres last, and would encourage Leafs and Oilers fans to think about that. I do really like Coach Granato, and think that the team will show signs of a stronger direction this season. This mess with Eichel pushes this rebuild at least another year away, and reminds me of the end of Matt Duchene’s time in Colorado. It’s be hard to end up with a better haul than Girard, Byram, plus plus, but at this point it’s nothing but a negative cloud hanging above all involved. Remember, it wasn’t until Duchene was moved that MacKinnon really took off. Lofty comparison, but a new coach and atmosphere seemed to really help Dahlin, Cozens, Mittlestadt, and Jokiharju rejuvenate their careers. I like Hinostroza as a player, and with Bjork and Caggulia could help fill out the lineup with legitimate NHLers, especially considering Asplund, Ruotsalainen, and Tage Thompson are looking to carve out a role in the NHL. Quinn, Peterka, and Rosen are nice prospects but still at least a year away, so adding to this group in an Eichel deal is really important.

Pulling Dahlin out of his downward spiral is the most important step in this season. There’s really no reason, besides mismanagement, that he shouldn’t be among the league’s best young defenders at this point. Jokiharju is also still quite young, although his upside isn’t what Dahlin’s is, and it would be really encouraging to see positive growth. Colin Miller is one of the only other returning pieces on the backend, but could be serviceable with fellow NHL regulars Will Butcher and Mark Pysyk. Jacob Bryson played well in 38 games in his rookie season and figures to be in the mix once again. Further down the line, Mattias Samuelsson made an appearance in 12 NHL games last season, and will be pushing for a spot. Of course Owen Power is waiting in the wings, and another season with a strong Michigan team and a World Junior appearance, along with perhaps another World Cup appearance would go a long way towards setting the stage for an impactful rookie campaign in 22/23. Although it doesn’t look great now the Sabres’ blueline has interesting pieces in place for the coming years.

Perhaps the most underwhelming aspect of this roster is in net, where Anderson, Dell, and Tokarski are overmatched in their current slotting, as made evidence by all 3 making what is essentially league minimum. Although Luukkonen, Portillo, and Levi are interesting goalie prospects all 3 are years away at this point. It’s hard to imagine this team going anywhere given the current situation in net. No doubt making a significant upgrade here will be crucial whenever this team decides to win.

[sherlockmonkeesstartrek]

Hi there! Read your post, and GOD! After years of reading fanfiction about any fandom but The Hollies, you are like a dream come true! But sadly, I'm the least creative person, and I wouldn't know what to ask! Yep, my fav is Tony, and I love the second and third lineup (Tony, Allan and Bobby with Bern, Graham or Terry). If I imagine some smut, it would be some angry sex between Tony and Graham, even though they never clashed that much in RL. (1/2)

Hiii! I’ve seen your blog before and can I just say how much I love it

Anyways, I am totally digging that Tony/Graham hate fuck, so I wrote a little (6000 word) fic about them. I kinda got carried away, sorry XD So yeah, I haven’t read over it and I’ve never really written all that much about Tony before, so I just keep that in mine. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy; 

“Did you just,” Graham laughed, turning to look at the other boys in the studio as though for back up despite being well aware before even regarding their disapproving expressions that he was looking to the wrong people for help. Really, these comments were only to make light of the situation for himself, “Did you just see that? My god.” He turned back to where he’d just watched one of his bandmates storm out and sighed. “Tony Hicks. Who knew?”

Well, it seemed they all knew. They knew from the moment Tony started raising his voice, a odd spectacle for such a quiet young man, that he was capable of as much of a dramatic and aggressive exit as any one of the boys had managed before. Just because he stayed out of fights, stayed away from drama, didn’t mean he was totally incapable of getting involved. And the thing was, this wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t got into a fight, he didn’t instigate it. If anything, he was being patient for a good time longer than the other boys could. And when he did eventually snap, everyone agreed that he was totally valid in doing so.

Even the guy who started it, the very man who marvelled at the reaction in its aftermath. Graham had to admit he kind of went over the top on that one. He didn’t mean to start an argument. He just seemed to spark them by accident, and he wasn’t the type to back down on anything, even if it was better off if he did for his own benefit.

Still, he’d fucked up, what could he do now?

He shrugged off the negativity in the atmosphere and turned his attentions to finding his guitar. Where had he put it down?

“Guys, have you seen my pick?”

Not a peep sounded from his remaining bandmates. Casually, the rhythm guitarist looked up. He’d practically forgotten the fight in about two seconds of distraction. Apparently, it wasn’t so easy for the others, mostly because they had no interest in forgetting.

“What was all that about?” Allan was first to speak. He’d clashed with Graham many a time throughout the years, so wasn’t afraid to do so now. In fact, he felt inclined to do so to defend his mate and let his discontent be known to the perpetrator.

“What? Oh, the thing… nothing.” Graham muttered. He was outnumbered. Even he wasn’t on his own side about this. That was why he was so quick to try and ignore it. He’d done wrong. Something pretty fucking wrong. There was no reason to go off of Tony like that, yet he’d done it and… well… the not backing down thing, the trait that would get him killed if he wasn’t careful. He could see the headlines ‘English musician mauled by bandmates.’ What a way to go.

“Sure sounded like nothing.”

“Well, it was. He overreacted.” Ok, he didn’t even believe what he was saying, never mind whether Allan did, or Bobby or Bern. Basically, he was losing a war he’d inadvertently started with that minor battle, and that was pissing him off.

“Yeah?” Allan stepped forward, challengingly.

Graham ground his teeth, standing up to the challenge, “Well what do you want me to do about it now? Hu? Go and kiss him and make up so we can play some shit on another record we didn’t write. Oh sure.”

Apparently, kissing was a bit too much, but making up was exactly what Allan wanted. Graham sighed, frustrated as he turned to the door. He felt like a kid being told off by his parents, made to go and apologise to an annoying brother for aggravating him. Since when had Allan been so damn uptight? Oh yeah, since forever. Since he’d settled down with Jen. Even before that, in fact. He was suddenly so worried about what kind of music the band should be making or how much work they were all putting in or bullshit like that. Making music often isn’t something you can plan. It should be fun and exciting and…

…this had nothing to do with the argument. It seemed like Tony wasn’t the only one with a lot of pent up frustration. Graham rationalised that perhaps the guitarist should be thanking him. After all, it's not good for people to keep things bottled up without letting it out once in a while. And Tony constantly seemed so cool and calm, either he was getting it all out with some great sex every night, or he wasn’t getting it out at all. If the former was true, at least he was saving Tony’s chick from having a right good fucking tonight.

Actually, that was regrettable, depending on how you look at it. And as Graham wandered down the corridors, trying to find his bandmate, he found himself considering it from every angle. If he was Tony’s girl, he’d be a bit put out if she wasn’t getting anything out of him. He was handsome guy. It was the eyes, the slightly hooded, striking blue eyes. That was the first thing Graham thought of when he thought of Tony, the first thing he could imagine girls noticed. It was the first thing he noticed when he met the boy way back when. Though he may’ve grown into his ever youthful looks, his ears now were the right size for the rest of his face- or at least covered by a thick mass of fair hair curling down his neck- and he’d ditched the overly skinny look for a little more filled out and muscular, his eyes remained very much the same, as stunning and bright as they always had been.

What was Graham doing thinking like this of his mate? He laughed at himself, shaking the thought from his mind. He only had to apologize to the guy to get him back in the studio so they could finish a recording, not flatter him with complements of his eyes. Not only would that be really weird, but it wouldn’t work. Either Tony would think Graham was taking the piss or he’d get all shy. It was strange that such a handsome, sought-after boy like Tony was not used to receiving compliments.

He was doing it again, thinking about him like that. It would make it damned hard for him to face the boy if his mind was in other places.

Well not too hard. As soon as he caught sight of Tony in the loos, a cheekiness came over him, the same one that had persuaded him to go over the top on the little disagreement not ten minutes ago. He sauntered into the room and leant up against the wall by the door, arms crossed over his chest, one foot balancing on its toes beside the other, an expectant smile gazing at the guitarist who was washing his hands quite quietly. There was a bit of aggression in his actions. Graham didn’t think he’d ever seen Tony quite like this, letting something bother him to the point that his actions were affected. He wrung his hands beneath the water hard enough to turn his slightly tanned skin red and pressed the soap dispenser violently, causing the clear liquid to shot out and spray half on his cupped palm, half on the sink beside him. He then, after rinsing, pulled way too much tissue from the dispenser and threw the scrunched up, soggy ball in the bin with such force it popped back out, settling on the floor.

“Didn’t your mum ever tell you you should pick up after yourself?” Graham laughed, gesturing to the bin as Tony pivoted on his heels. He did not seem at all startled by the rhythm guitarist’s presence. In fact, perhaps he did already know that he was in there, hence the aggression in his actions and the casual way he regarded Graham as he leant back against the sink, his lips pressed into a hard, white line. He didn’t even bother to acknowledge Graham’s little comment. He just stood there, glaring.

“Come on, are you really going to be mad at me over this?” Graham sighed, bored of this already. He was also really starting to get bored of the silence treatment. It grated on him. He waited for a reply. None came.

His voice took a more impatient tone when he opened his mouth again.  “Look, I’m meant to apologise to you, so let’s just forget about this shit so we can keep recording and you can hate me afterwards, ok?”

The expression on Tony’s face changed, which Graham saw as a positive. At the very least it might be an indication that he might start talking and he was right.. It just wasn’t the response Graham had been hoping for.

“No, fuck you. You always seem to just bypass apologising, like you’ve done nothing wrong.”

Graham swore he didn’t mean to, but habitually rolled his eyes, which Tony obviously didn’t take well. He didn’t get angrier as such. He, if anything, looked disappointed. He had that ‘why do I bother’ look in his eyes, while which, in turn, irritated Graham to the point that had he been considering a proper apology, it was now definitely off the table.

“Mate, are you serious? All I did was disagree with you.” He said, any friendly tone now dropped completely.

“You fucking disagree with everyone.” Tony retorted.

“So you shouldn’t be taking it so fucking personally.”

“I’m not. I’m mad for everyone. I don’t know what the hell has got into you, whether it's fame or something, but you’re bloody unbearable at the moment, and the other guys can sit back and take it, but I’m not going to.”

“No?” Graham was now laughing at the younger man, amused by the determination to stand up to him. He thought it cute, and knew that would annoy Tony.

That, coupled with patronising him, and Graham knew he was heading to a breaking point. He wanted to see how far he could push his mate, since he was already in so deep.

“What are you going to do?”

Tony glared at his so-called friend intensely. His blood boiled in his veins, mostly those in his clenched fists that longed to slug the rhythm guitarist in the jaw. Oh, but he couldn’t, could he? It would make for bad press, unease in the group, which was the last thing they needed. Then again, there was a chance the fight would be settled with that one swing. Graham would know not to mess with Tony, he might learn a lesson or two about irritating the rest of the band and Tony would get out all the anger on his bandmate. When he thought like that, it was just too damn tempting. Not to mention that Graham, as he looked down and saw Tony’s skilled fingers curled into fists, practically asked for it.

“Are you going to punch me? Oh that I have to see!”

Well, he didn’t want to disappoint. Allowing all the anger he usually let go of build up, he jolted violently up, stalked towards the older man standing by the door and let the knuckles of his powerful right hand make contact with Graham’s cheek. Immediately, the rhythm guitarist stumbled sideways, one hand reaching to stop himself from falling, the other grasping his bruised cheekbone. When he steadied, he shot a wild look up at Tony, planning his revenge.

While Tony did feel pretty sorry, he wasn’t going to say it. It wasn’t he who owed an apology. The only reason he was considering it in that moment was because he didn’t really want to get into a fist fight, which seemed the way this was going, judging by the look in Graham’s pale blue eyes. Still, he stood his ground, waiting for Graham’s move.

Which turned out to be an attack, heading straight for the boy’s wrists. He wasn’t interested in hurting Tony. No, he was going to pin him down, make him beg for an apology. Once he had hold of one of Tony’s wrists, he spun him around, bending the arm up his back, applying enough pressure to have him totally under his control, then guided him to the sink area where he bent the kid over. A short hiss escaped Tony’s mouth as he pushed against Graham, writhed under his control. Graham wasn’t that much stronger than him, he just had the upper hand at that moment, in a position that made it near enough impossible to fight against.

This was also quite a compromising position. Even Graham had to admit he didn’t really want to be caught by anyone like this. For all the strength he possessed in that moment, his crotch was pressed against Tony’s butt, he had the boy literally bent over under him. No wonder why Tony struggled. But Graham was not going to let him up, not for anything.

He laughed evilly, “What’s the matter down there?”

“Get off!!! Graham, get the fuck off me!!!”

God, this gave Graham such a rush of power. He ignored how weird the moment looked in favour of bending right over and hovering his lips over Tony’s ear.

He caught a quick glimpse of himself in the mirror above the sinks. The oddest feeling waved through him that he refused to address. He shook his mind clean for a moment to say, “Is there something you want?”

“Get the fuck off me!!!” Tony yelled. It echoed around the room, followed by a low chuckle from Graham’s throat that had the younger boy struggling once more in anger.

“I thought you wanted an apology.” Graham teased, “You can’t be greedy and have both.”

“FUCK OFF!”

Tony lifted his head slightly, enough to also see the mirror. He looked so stupidly helpless under the weight of his friend, now baring down on his back. He met Graham’s gaze, gave him a filthy look until he noticed something. He saw a flicker of something in his pale blue irises. He’d seen it a few times before, most notably the time they’d all gone to that club with that belly dancer, the one they all had a crush on. Well, a crush was putting it nicely. They all wanted to fuck her. Graham was looking at him with a glare that would’ve been quite threatening and annoying- due to the cheeky smile on his lips- had he not also got that sparkle, that wanting gaze.

Did Graham want to fuck him?

“Oh my god…” Tony chuckled, turning his head downwards towards the space between sinks that thankfully wasn’t wet or dirty. Graham had been kind in where he’d pinned him down.

“What?” Graham demanded. He didn’t much like the feeling of loss of power that Tony’s laughter provided him.

Still giggling, Tony peered up a little.

“Are you turned on right now?”

“The fuck? Of course not!”

“I think you are, you fucking creep.”

Graham felt his cheeks flush. No way he was turned on. No way. Not even if he’d already kind of seen the excitement when he’d glimpsed the mirror. Nope. He’d deny it. He’d keep on denying it.

And he certainly wasn’t going to let Tony see the sudden colour in his cheeks. When the guitarist attempted to look in the mirror again, Graham snaked his fingers around his neck and twisted his head back to one side, resting on the surface.

“Listen, you’re the creep for even thinking that. Now, you wanted something, didn’t you?” He tried to regain the atmosphere from before. Both the boys were mad, and Graham was in control. He had Tony right where he wanted him and… ok so it might’ve turned him on a little bit, but at least in that moment Tony didn’t know.

He heard Tony make a breathy gasp. The position for him was awkward, but he was in no way screaming for oxygen. He barely even fought anymore. The smile on his lips, though, had faded in favour of a more frustrated expression.

“Yeah,” The boy said through gritted teeth, “I wanted you to get the fuck up, because you’re enjoying yourself too much.”

Graham ignored the indication of his pleasure in the position.

“Why don’t you ask me nicely?” He suggested.

Tony hid a smirk.

“And here I was thinking you were going to make me beg for it.”

Something, the same thing that had lit Graham’s eyes and coloured his cheeks, stirred within him again. He stared down at Tony, wondering what his next move should be.

He decided not to give the boy the satisfaction of knowing he was right. Or at least, he wasn’t going to get defensive. He wasn’t going to deny anything anymore, not outright.

“Alright, that seems like a good idea. Beg for me to get off you.”

Oh yes. That had Tony hesitating. It was a moment before he piped up.

“Are you serious?” He laughed.

In a low voice, Graham replied, “Deadly.”

“Fuck off.”

“I don’t hear any begging. I guess you like this, you like being bent over, do you?”

Fuck! Tony struggled once more, annoyed that Graham had somehow flipped this situation on its head, yet again. Not only did he have full power over his body, keeping him firmly against the sink, but he also had power because there was no way Tony was going to beg. He wasn’t a dog or a child and he certainly did not take orders from someone like Graham.

But what choice did he have?

“You can’t be fucking serious!”

“I told you, I am.” Graham chuckled. He decided he was going to have all the fun he wanted in that moment, letting loose a lodged phrase he’d been wanting to say as he waited for Tony to retort. “And since I am actually enjoying this, I might as well take advantage of it.”

Tony... didn’t get it. He was totally confused, thrown off by Graham’s admission. He really didn’t know how to reply. He really didn’t know how he felt about the whole situation anymore. He just knew that his neck was starting to hurt like this.

He tried to arch it away from the sink, only to have Graham push him back down, smothering him further into the countertop.

“Plea-“ Tony gasped. For a moment, he was about to beg. And in that moment, after hearing a small chuckle escape Graham’s lips, the fingers around his neck loosened. He was given a little leeway to move. Humiliated, he shut his eyes. Could he really do this? Could he really beg his friend for anything, a guy who he was still mad at, who he would happily kick in the balls if his legs weren’t pressed up against the back of his thighs? No, no he couldn’t.

Graham was beginning to enjoy the power again. Perhaps a little too much. But he’d half admitted as much, so he didn’t really care. He ignored the distinct feeling of swelling down south- he didn’t press himself too hard into Tony in case he could feel it- and instead directed his energies to thinking of something to say next, something evil, something that would really piss Tony off. Because it got him off, for some reason. Just the idea of the kid so helpless under him, conflicted as to whether he should humiliate himself or not, allow the older man to manipulate him or not.

He leant down again, hovering his mouth over Tony’s ear, the soft, fair hairs whispering against the curve of cartilage tickling his lips. Tony could feel his hot breath hit his skin. He cringed as he felt Graham laugh.

“What was that?”

“I didn’t say anything.” Tony muttered.

“I think you did.” Graham laughed, “Go on, you can do it and I’ll let you up.”

Not a peep escaped Tony’s throat for a whole minute as they stood in that position, so Graham decided to make it worse for him.

Since he’d first bent down and whispered in the guitarist’s ear, he’d got the urge to do it. The back of his ear looked so enticing. It was stupid and weird, but it wasn’t the only thing in the situation that fitted that description. There was a small sensation of this being a step further, but Graham had lost the ability to really stop himself, just as he had in the argument. He succumbed to the temptation and stuck out his tongue.

Tony felt a more humid breath against his skin, following a wet slap that sounded almost like a kiss being broken. Having no idea what was going on, his mind drew blanks until he felt it; Graham’s tongue dragged against the back of his ear, right at the tip of it.

And Tony found himself sighing involuntarily. He caught himself, eyes shooting open, body tensing, but the damage was done, Graham had heard it. If he could not tell by the way the rhythm guitarist abruptly paused, then he could by the chuckle rumbling low in Graham’s chest.

The older man, after his hesitation, completed the lick before closing his mouth and reopening it again. Suddenly, he had plenty of things to say.

“Now, if I didn’t know any better, I would say you enjoyed that.”

Tony had no reply.

“And you called me the creep.”

The younger man let his jaw fall slack, ready to reply, but the older man beat him to it.

“You’re a very bad boy, Tony Hicks.”

“Don’t say things like that!” He snapped back. His vigour, however, was beaten by the chuckles vibrating through his bandmate’s body. Did he ever stop laughing? Boy did Graham know how to piss people off. Tony wouldn’t be surprised to learn if that was the first thing Graham looked for when he met people, a way to really get right on their nerves.

“Well, you shouldn’t have moaned.” Graham warned, letting his lips fall a little closer to Tony’s skin, rather than his tongue this time, “Would you like me to do it again?”

And this time, even though given an option, Tony could not think up an answer. He should’ve said a definitive ‘no.’

That is, if that was what he wanted.

Suddenly, the conflict in the boy’s mind was still fixated on whether he should submit to his bandmate, only in a very different way, and with a very different answer he found himself reaching.

Without a reply, which Graham found annoying- he really hated being ignored- he let his lips close around Tony’s ear, kissing him this time before running his tongue over the flesh. Tony tried really hard not to enjoy it, but it’s pretty hard when such an act coaxed feelings like the pleasurable shiver rushing directly to his spine. His body tensed, though this time not out of discomfort. It was due to the beginnings of a tight pleasure pooling below his stomach. It seemed that, inside him, his boiling blood and flashes of red behind his eyes were starting to convert into a different kind of frustration than he’d felt previously towards Graham. Instead of the desperate want to punch him in the face, he really wanted to pin him down on the floor and have his way with him.

He’d never thought such a thing about a guy before, but in that moment, gender wasn’t a concern of his, certainly not to the part of his body responsible for his thinking.

Graham seemed to be taken over by the same appendage, as he began kissing down Tony’s neck, moving his hand out the way, and Tony’s hair, to reach the hot, slender parts of his skin. His hands, now free, ran down the boy’s torso until they reached his hips, which they grabbed with considerable force. He dug his nails in tight to the thick layers of fabric Tony was clad in, in hope of feeling his skin, his flesh, his bones beneath.

“Are you sure you want me to get up?” He giggled lightly between kisses. He was not going to give up teasing his bandmate for anything, and that was a fact. He’d gotten off on irritating him, he’d relished his humiliation, why stop now when things were just getting interesting.

Of course, Tony saw it as an annoyance, but that was exactly what Graham wanted it to be.

“Will you just shut up for a minute?”

“Oh, of course not!” He breathed, “I want it known that you got off on me bending you over and…”

Tony realised that Graham had gotten complacent in his pleasure. Despite the grasp he had on Tony’s hips, he no longer had the good positioning that gave him all his strength. In one swift movement, Tony twisted around under him and pushed him towards the wall. As Graham attempted to recover, Tony lurched at him and pushed his whole body up against him. His hands sought out Graham’s, pinning them to the wall either side of his head. Now he could see the light in the older man’s eyes, the desire he’d only glimpsed, the damaged he’d actually done to the left side of his face. It was already bruising. Hmm, they’d have to explain that to the media, those that saw them as good, clean boys, not the types who got into fights.

Tony doubted they’d see them as the types who liked other boys either, so perhaps a black eye was the least of their worries. He suddenly thought of the unlocked bathroom door, the studio that lay beyond it, and the one room where three friends, no doubt concerned about them, were and may not remain. There was any number of people who could walk in at the worst moment and see what they really shouldn’t.

But… if he went to lock the door, he’d lose his power over Graham, and boy had he been waiting pretty much the whole day- if not since he’d met the guy- for a chance like this.

He looked Graham in the twinkling eyes. The rhythm guitarist was waiting, waiting for a next move, aching for it. His stare was challenging, encouraging Tony to do something, anything, so the boy decided to risk everything to keep his position. He glared at Graham, thinking ‘you’ve no idea what we’re risking for this.’

His move, he decided, was to slide both his hands up, with Graham’s in their grasp, and hold them over Graham’s head. He found a way to keep both wrists pinned to the wall in just one hand, so the other could travel down his bandmate’s aching torso, down experimentally towards the waistband of his trousers. He looked so unsure. Graham did too, but his mind was now set on this moment. He needed this, he needed a release for his frustration and believed Tony could benefit from it too.

“I want this.” He whispered encouragingly. Never before had he ever so explicitly given consent, never had he previously had to, but it felt right in this situation, one neither he nor his friend had been in before. It struck a little confidence into Tony, evidenced by the quickening of his movements. He spread his hand over Graham’s hardness and lightly applied pressure. Graham gasped, to which Tony wanted to administer a little of Graham’s own medicine to him. He chuckled.

“Enjoying this, are we?”

Graham’s eyes met his.

“Now you can’t deny that you’re not.”

The younger boy shrugged, slowly removing his hand, much to Graham’s displeasure.

“I’m going to enjoy it a lot more in a minute.”

Curious, the older man watched. He wasn’t sure what part of his friend he should keep his eyes on; his face, his wandering hands, his torso, his… trousers. Eventually, though, the most interesting part was his hands, the one that lingered between both their crotches before turning upwards towards it’s owner’s waistband and those skilled, guitar-playing fingers hooked around the zipper of his trousers. He watched as Tony pulled down his fly and palmed himself through his boxers, straining handsomely against a thick bulge within them. He watched as Tony got off, pleasured himself, leaving Graham practically totally untouched, straining himself under far too many layers of clothing. The older man whimpered.

“This isn’t fair.”

With half shut eyes and a blissful smile on his face, Tony asked, “What isn’t?”

“I was winning. You’re a fucking dick. I had you…”

“Oh, but you wanted me so bad, you just couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

Graham recognised his own tactics. Oh, they were cruel. He smirked to himself, almost as a pat on the back for being so goddamned smart. If only he could just work out a way to tip the tables again in his favour.

In fact, he didn’t care much about being in power, he just wanted not to be left out. He wanted to be touched. He’d happily beg, though he’d never say as much voluntarily.

“Fuck, look at you!” Tony continued. Graham could see more bliss, more pleasure building up tight within the guitarist. It was quite a sight, a view that cause want to simmer below his stomach. He recognised the pleasure that Tony was affording himself and wanted some for himself. “Quiet for the first time today. If it wasn’t so illegal, I’d do this everyday to shut you up.”

Graham’s voice came out as a half strangled moan when he tried to speak.

However, he did managed to say, “You’d do it because you fucking love me, admit it.”

“I love it when you’re not pissing everyone else off.”

“You love me when I’m not pissing everyone off.”

“I like the peace and quiet.”

“I…” He gasped loudly, “…really just want to come. Tony, come on!”

Tony grinned. He stared at Graham, making his own pleasure more obvious with rolls of his blue eyes and bites of his kissable lips. He even took it to the next step, pulling himself totally out of the boxers hanging loose on his hips and tugged hard, in full view of his friend. If a high level of adrenaline, caused by frustration and desire, had not been coursing through his veins, he probably would’ve felt more than a bit embarrassed and self-conscious under Graham’s watchful gaze, but his levels of confidence were soaring. He was coaxed on by Graham’s words too, as humiliating and embarrassing as getting your dick out in front of a mate was.

“Don’t… come on, I’m aching. Tony…”

“If you don’t beg,” Tony wickedly said, “You don’t get.”

To his surprise, it seemed a lot easier for Graham to stoop to that level of indignity than it had been for him.

“Ok, please Tony will you touch me. Or let me touch myself. I don’t fucking care anymore.”

“No?” Tony gasped, now unable to control his tone, “That’s disappointing, I thought you loved me. I though you wanted me.”

“Alright, alright, I want you, you fucker. Please, I want you to touch me.”

“If I move my hand, are you going to overpower me?”

Graham was not lying when he replied, “No.” And Tony could tell. It was probably the most genuine thing he’d said all day. So, if a little gingerly, the guitarist removed his hand from Graham’s wrists and feathered it down his body. Helpfully, Graham’s shot down to his fly and ripped it open. He groaned as Tony’s hand wrapped around him.

Oh, it was way better to have someone else do that rather than his own hand, Graham decided. Just the unfamiliar touch was enough to improve it, but there was so much more going on. Namely, the fact that Tony had an idea of what he was doing. Graham was sure he could make many a joke about that, like that Tony wasn’t really so much of a ladies’ man as he was a ‘right hand’ man, but he wouldn’t dare ruin the mood, by cracking some awful, distasteful and mocking joke unless, like the jokes about loving one another, both of them would know they were merely in good fun. There was also the forbidden aspect that made it all the more exciting. It had not slipped Graham’s mind that the bathroom door was open and he was well aware of all the shit they could get into, least of all the prison sentences they could receive should something like this get out. But, instead of scaring them shitless enough to do something about it or stop, it enticed at least Graham to continue.

And he knew it would not take long. He’d been aching at the most innocent of acts. By the time Tony had his hand pumping at his dick, he was further than half way close to climax.

So, it came of no surprise to him that he was first to come. He spilled over Tony’s hand, moaning with his head tossed back against the wall. He thrust up into Tony’s hand until the shockwaves of pleasure ceased. Then he looked down at the younger man, simpering.

Tony gave him a dirty look back.

“It’s not a fucking race.” He breathlessly snapped, “It’s not good that you were first.”

Graham nodded, “I know. I was actually glad, because now I can do this.”

He reached out and clasped his own, capable fingers around the base of Tony’s dick and followed the boy’s movements until he let him do it on his own. It seemed Tony had the same thought as Graham; it really was better done by someone else. A fact he well knew from all the chicks he’d had, but when directly compared to himself, and faced with someone who knew what they were doing, oh it was perfect. A few short minutes later and he’d dirtied Graham’s hands. Thankfully, as both the boys did check, they’d managed not to get anything on their clothes, save perhaps for some water from the counter and the sinks.

Breathlessly, the two boys regarded one another. They grinned stupidly, disbelievingly, not knowing what to say next. What was the protocol here? There wasn’t even one. All they could do was go back to how they always were. Nothing had changed.

“So…” Tony’s voice echoed around the room. After all that noise, the sudden lull in that bathroom was both too much for the boys, and not enough. They wanted to talk, to fill the empty space, but really didn’t, because it would mean addressing what had just happened.

Graham decided to go about that in an indirect manner by, once he’d tucked himself back into his trousers and zipped himself back up, nipping across the room to the tissue dispenser. He brought two bundles of tissues back with him, one for himself, the other for Tony. With that minor distraction, they found their voices.

“…friends?”

“We always were.” Graham replied, “I know I’m pretty overbearing and all…”

“You can say that again.”

“Fuck off. I’m trying to… apologise.”

“Does that mean we have to go back and record a song now?”

They both looked pretty helplessly towards the door, nodding as though to answer the question for themselves.

“So…” Tony repeated, “Do you want to go first… or… or I can…”

“Nah,” Graham waved that idea away, “We’re mates again. We go back together.”

“Ok…”

Neither made a start to the door for a moment. Tony pretended he was making sure there was no more evidence of their ‘time’ in the bathroom, while Graham chuckled to himself to get over the whole situation. Then, as though they’d agreed, they strode together out of the bathroom, into the corridor of the studio, which remained quiet. They silently made for their studio, keeping their eyes forward, their hands in their pockets, undistinguishable expressions on their slightly flushed faces.

They then walked into the room where their three friends were sitting almost in wait of them. Allan stood up immediately, waiting for a verdict as to whether they’d made up or not.

Tony opened his mouth, “He’s a fucking dick.” He announced, though that was not news to anyone. What was a slight surprise, though, was the smile on his face as he walked off to grab his guitar, and the one stretching Graham’s lips as his watched him.

“Yeah, but you all love me.” He insisted.

[secret-kkh-fics]

Anywhere But Home | Chapter 4

Due to this not being posted anywhere else yet, please like but DON’T REBLOG my fics.

Chapter Summary:

The twins call a Code Fluffy to try and make Pacifica feel better. Mabel gains some new blackmail material.

Author Note:

Hello all again! Well, all I have to say about this chapter is that it is pure fluff. Every bit of it. So, I hope you enjoy it!

Cuddles and Potential Blackmail 

“Hey, Dipper?” Mabel called out from the kitchen.  

“Yeah?” he called back.  

“Code Fluffy?”  

He looked at Pacifica, staring at her like he was trying to decide something. “Do you want to sleep?” he asked her. Pacifica shrugged in response. “Code Fluffy!” he shouted.  

“Okay, you're getting the blankets!”  

“I know!” He turned back to Pacifica. “We're going to have to try and get you upstairs.” She groaned at the prospect. There was no way she was going to be able to get up a flight of stairs. “It's okay. You won't even have to put any weight on your foot at all. I'll help you.”  

“No offence, but I saw your stairs on the way in and they look tiny.”  

“Yeah, they are a bit... Why would that be offensive?”  

“Ah... because I kind of think that everything in this house is tiny and dirty.”  

“Pfft!” he snorted. “That's because you live in a mansion. And because this place is really old and inhabited by an old man who doesn't know the meaning of the word 'clean'. Now come here, you snob.”  

She glared at him for that, but it wasn't as sharp as her usual one, she noticed that his tone seemed teasing. Like... in a nice way, not a nasty way. The way that friends teased each other. The idea of Dipper seeing her as a friend kind of made her feel... warm.  

Smiling slightly, she gingerly lifted her foot off the skull table and rested it on the ground. Dipper grabbed her bag and hoisted it onto his back, then offered her a hand. Once he'd helped her to her feet, he stood on the side of her bad foot and ducked his head so that she could put an arm around his shoulder. Even though he was stooped down, she still found that he was a bit tall. She knew that by the end of this, he was going to be as sore as she was... well, almost.  

“Ready?” he asked.  

“Yeah, I guess.”  

Slowly they began walking, Dipper going as slow and steady as she could, acting as her crutch. She hobbled along beside him, glad that she didn't have to put any weight on her foot. The hopping was already starting to get to her, her feet already sore from running. And she was sure she was putting most of her weight on Dipper. She turned to apologise or something for it, then noticed that he was still practically at her eye level. “Are you still crouching?” she asked incredulously.  

“Well, yeah, you're short.”  

“Hey!”  

He chuckled. “Relax. Why do the really short ones always get so worked up? Height's no big deal I mean, I'm short for my age. Even Mabel's taller than me.”  

“Seriously?”  

“Yep. Well, only by a millimetre, but that's enough for her to claim she's the alpha twin. Doesn't help that she's outgoing and older than me by five minutes... I'm just crossing my fingers for another growth spurt soon.” She suddenly realised that they'd been standing still since she'd noticed him stooping, and she realised why. They were standing at the base of the stairs. She bit her lip, looking up at the rickety staircase in apprehension. “Hey, it's okay, you can do this,” he told her. “You've got me and the rail. You'll just have to kind of jump I guess.”  

She gave him a determined nod, and they started up. She relied on Dipper and the rail quite heavily, putting all her weight on them and swinging her way up. They almost fell down a few times, and her arms and good leg were horribly tired by the time they got to the top. She felt a bit sorry for Dipper, but he just grinned at her.  

“You made it!” he celebrated.  

“Your room is way too high up.”  

He raised an eyebrow. “Your room is on the fourth floor of your house.”  

“Your room is the attic! That's the top of your house!”  

“That's not- You know what, never mind. The attic is the best place anyway, apart from maybe Soos's break room. We'll see if he's willing to give it up while you're here. But for tonight it looks like we're having a sleepover in the attic. Now come on, we have to get set up.  

“For what? What's Code Fluffy?”  

“It's love in a blanket!” Mabel said, skipping up behind them with a tray of hot-drinks and other sweet snacks. She went off ahead of them, and they slowly made their way along behind them. It was a good thing that Stan was still up, or all the thumping would have woken him.  

“It's our method of making each other feel better,” he explained further as he helped her along to the room. “Our favourite advice is to get a nice drink, some snacks, bundle up in blankets, cuddle something fluffy, and watch a feel-good movie. So if either of us is upset or not feeling great, we'll call a Code Fluffy.” As he was saying this, he led her over to a bed and helped sit her down on it.  

“Dipper calls them the most. He gets panic attacks,” Mabel said casually.  

“Mabel!”  

“What?”  

“That actually sounds really nice,” she said, stopping them from arguing further.  

“It is. And it really works. Of course, it works better with other people. It relaxes you and makes you happier because when you hug someone, it releases serotonin, dopamine, and oxytocin, which-”  

“Alright, alright, nerd,” Mabel said. “Just go get the blankets, would ya!” Dipper huffed out a sigh, rolled his eyes, and left the room mumbling under his breath. “Right, down to business,” she said matter of factly. She bounced over to the other bed and picked up a pile of stuffed toys from it. “What one do you want?”  

Pacifica blinked at the lineup before her in bewilderment. She hadn't cuddled a stuffed toy since she was six. Her mom had thought they were too childish after that. The next thing she knew, Lily the Llama was gone. “Um... the... rabbit, I guess.”  

“Done. Her name is Daisy.” She handed the white rabbit over to her, a purple felt flower had been stitched on just above one of the ears. Then she began to pick out a few more. “Dipper usually likes Mr Bearington. I'll take Kitty Snufflepants today. And Waddles can have Widdles!”  

“Widdles?”  

“Yeah!” she cried in delight, holding up a stuffed pig. “He's like Waddles, but he's 'widdle'! Dipper won him for me in a crane game.”  

“Oh, okay.” She didn't understand why the pig needed its own toy, but whatever floated the strange girl's boat. She and her brother were being way too nice to her for her to care.  

Quickly she made the decision to divest herself of any uncomfortable clothing while Dipper was out. She unhooked her bra and pulled it out from under her shirt. She also took off her other shoe and sock but decided that it would be easier to leave her jeans on, rather than painfully struggle to get them off and again struggle to put on her night clothes.  

“And now onto the movie,” Mabel cried. She went over to the bed Pacifica was sitting on and pulled a laptop from underneath. It had a blue sticker of a pine tree, just like the one on Dipper's hat. It must be his... which would also make this his bed. That made sense considering the toys, glitter, and Sev'ral Timez posters on the other bed. Mabel tapped a few keys, then frowned. “That's weird.”  

“What?”  

“His password's changed.”  

There came a muffled chuckle, and they both turned to see Dipper staggering back into the room under a big pile of blankets and bedrolls. “I was wondering when you were going to notice.” He dumped the pile on the ground near the window.  

“When did you change it?”  

“Like, three weeks ago or so.”  

“Oh... Well, that's good, I guess. Ooh! Hold on, I bet I can guess the new one...” She sat there a moment, her tongue stuck out in thought. Then her eyes widened, a smile creeping over her face, and she quickly typed something in. It instantly logged her in. “Yes!”  

“Aww, damn it.”  

“How did you do that?” Pacifica asked in amazement.  

“It's easy. Dipper's passwords are things he's obsessed with at the time. It wasn't hard to guess 'journal author'. He's been trying to find clues about him since he found that book.”  

“I really need to think of better passwords.”  

“At least you change yours. I've the same password for three years now,” Pacifica told him.  

“I have to change it. I have a Mabel to attempt to protect it from.” He fluffed up some pillows and blankets, starting to put together a makeshift bed to fit three.  

“Never works,” she grinned. “Okay, here's the movies. What do you want to watch? Pick any, Dipper's okay with all of them.”  

The man in question shrugged. “I'm not picky.”  

“Really? You'll even watch girly chick flicks?”  

“I was raised with Mabel. I'm used to them.”  

“And he just likes them anyway. He even likes Babba! Oof!” She was knocked over when a pillow hit her square in the head. Dipper grinned smugly.  

“Really? Babba's awesome! Have you seen the musical they made that had only their most popular songs? Cheesy as hell to watch, it was good.”  

“We've never actually been to see any musicals,” Mabel told her.  

“Well, we'll have to change that. You have to see Wicked! It's not an option.”  

“Ooh! I've always wanted to do Wicked as like... a play or something!” Mabel said excitedly. “We should totally put on a performance here! I could be Elphaba, and you could be Glinda! You're blonde! And you can hit all the high notes!”  

“And your friendship started out about the same,” Dipper commented.  

“Loathing. Unadulterated loathing...” Pacifica sang, her smile faded. “Yeah, sorry about that.”  

“Ah, you know how it is. Water and bridges and all that. Maybe something about ducks? I don't know. I think there should be ducks somewhere in that saying.”  

“You're thinking of 'water under the bridge' and 'water off a duck's back', Mabel. Though, if you mixed them together you'd get a pretty interesting malaphor.”  

“You mean metaphor.”  

“No, I mean malaphor. The combining of two or more idioms. You know, like 'we'll burn that bridge when we get to it' instead of 'cross that bridge' and 'burning bridges'.”  

“...You're right, he is a nerd,” she said to Mabel.  

“Hey!”  

“What? I never said it's a bad thing. So what, you're smart.”  

“Don't encourage him!” Mabel cried. “His head is already big enough. Literally.”  

“Beats me then. My head is tiny. The only reason I can fit half my hats is because my hair is so thick and boofy! Ooh, hey, how about this?” She turned the screen around to show them her selection.  

“Princess Diaries 2. Heck yeah!”  

“Sure. I'm in.” He gestured to the blankets. “Also, I've made the bed.” To be honest, it looked more like a giant nest of pillows and blankets. They were a little old looking for her liking, but it did look comfy.  

“I call middle!” Mabel shouted, scrambling over. She snuggled down under the top layer of blankets, putting the laptop on her lap.  

“Here.”  

Dipper held out his hand to her, and once more he helped her walk over to the bed. He sat her down beside Mabel, and she was able to tuck herself in. It would be a close fit for the three of the of them. She wasn't really sure how she felt about that. She wasn't used to it. At her sleepovers, her friends would all get their own double bed. Dipper grabbed the tray of snacks and sat them down beside her, then he took his place on the other side of his sister. As soon as he was settled in, Waddles came trotting over with the stuffed pig in his mouth. With a soft oink, he plopped himself down with his head resting on Dipper's lap. She passed out the hot chocolates, which were somehow still hot, and took a sip of her own. The top was completely coated in melted marshmallow. It was so sweet but really good.  

“Alright, that's the hot drinks and snacks, the blankets, the fluffy things, and the movie. So, without further ado, let the Code Fluffy commence!” Dramatically she hit the play button, and the movie started.  

They all smiled and settled back to watch the movie. Pacifica had seen it many times, but it was the kind of movie that you could still watch many times more and still want to watch it again. It was so cute, and Julie Andrews was a goddess!  

Their drinks were all gone by the time Mia had intentionally stomped on Nick's foot. But they continued to eat the chocolate, and other sweets as the movie went on. Dipper even got up to grab the candy she'd told him was in her bag. She found herself slowly leaning into Mabel to get a better view. Her eyes were starting to become heavy, and she just gave in, leaning on the girl in something similar to a cuddle. It actually felt... kind of nice. When it got to the scene where the Queen showed Mia her new room, Mabel gasped in wonder, despite how many times she'd already seen it.  

“I'm just imagining that that's what your wardrobe is like,” she said. “Is that what your wardrobe is like?”  

“Pfft! Don't be ridiculous,” she told her. “I don't have crown jewels in my wardrobe.” Mabel laughed, and she smiled in reply. It wasn't quite true, her wardrobe was way smaller than that... though, it was still a rather large walk-in wardrobe with mirrors and everything. Still, that was irrelevant.  

As the movie continued, her eyes grew heavier and heavier. She would catch herself with her eyes closed for too long and jolt herself awake. She finally gave in sometime around the engagement slumber party. The last thing she remembered was hearing Julie Andrews and Raven singing together. At one point she was woken up by Mabel laughing at Mia exclaiming that she was a moose, but sleep quickly pulled her back under again. She was exhausted. And this was nice. This was very, very nice...  

      By the time the movie was finished, Mabel was pretty tired. She yawned loudly, giving a stretch. It was a little awkward with the other two leaning on her so heavily. She looked at her brother and new friend to find that they were both asleep. Waddles looked up at her and gave a soft oink.  

“Yep, they're totally out to it,” she whispered to him. “Come on, let’s get to bed.”  

Carefully, she extracted herself from between the two of them. She closed the laptop and put it back under Dipper’s bed, and cleared away all cups and trash. She considered waking up Dipper to get him back in his own bed but decided against it. She knew how hard it was to wake him up, and how he'd react. And considering the fact he'd only just fallen asleep, it was probably best to let him sleep.  

Waddles oinked again. “What? It's not like they're cuddling or anything. They're on opposite sides of the nest! They can complain about it in the morning. I'm too tired to deal with Dipper.”  

She shuffled over to the lights and flicked them off, before going back over to her bed and curling in. She held on to Kitty Snufflepants, and not long after, Waddles jumped up to his usual spot on the bed. Soon, she was as fast asleep as the other two.    

                           Mabel groaned as sunlight shone in her face, dragging her out of her wonderful slumber.  

“Ugh, stupid sun!” she grumbled. She rolled over, having to push Waddles back on the other side of the bed, so she didn't fall off, and looked at the clock. 11am. Geez, she'd slept in! Well, she had been up to like, 6am, so it wasn't that bad really.  

Yawning, she jumped out of bed and started gathering her clothes for the day. She was confused by Dippers empty bed for a moment until she remembered that she'd left him down on the floor last night. She looked over towards the nest and had to stifle a giggle.  

Lying curled up in the middle of the nest of pillows, Dipper and Pacifica were snuggled up to each other. Their stuffed animals had been abandoned at some time in the night, as had half the blankets. One of Dipper’s arms was cushioning Pacifica's head, his other was wrapped around her waist. Pacifica seemed even more tangled up than he was. One of her arms was stretched up above his head, her fingers twisted in his curls, the other arm was flung over the arm that was holding her, and her leg had hooked itself up over his waist.  

Huh. Who knew that they were both cuddlers? They... actually looked... kind of cute.  

Silently she grabbed her phone and took a picture of them. “Hehe,” she giggled. “Blackmail.”  

Then quietly as she could, she snuck out. Those two deserved their sleep.  

      Pacifica had been drifting in and out of dreams for a while. Strange dreams that she couldn't recall. And she was too tired to remember any of the moments shed woken up either. This time she blinked at the hazy light around her. Morning.  

There was something in front of her, a pink and brown blur. And she was holding onto something. What was that strange shape in front of her? She blinked a few more times, trying to focus.  

“Dipper?” she mumbled.  

“Mmm,” he replied, still half asleep.  

“No, dipper. On your head.” Lazily, her hand attempted to point, but it didn't really move far before flopping back around his body, her eyes drifting shut again.  

“Yeah. Wait, what?” His eyes flew open, and he looked about cautiously. No one else was in the room. Just him and Pacifica... cuddling. “Uhh...” He looked back down at the girl in his arms. She seemed to have fallen asleep again.  

Hmm... she looked rather cute when she was sleeping. No! No, he was not having any thoughts along those lines when they were cuddling like – like, well, a couple. Nope!  

Carefully he began to extract himself from their human tangle, taking her arm from around him and gently placing it in close to her body. She muttered something when he tried to de-tangle their legs, but when he looked up at her, he found she was still asleep.  

Once he was free he let out a sigh of relief, then he grabbed his clothes for the day and his hat and went off to have a shower. Erm... he better make that a cold one.  

 EXW PRQVWHUV RI WKH GHHS DUH VXUH WR EH IHDUHG

Author Note:

To be honest, I didn't think this much would take up an entire chapter. But oh well, just means there'll be more chapters later. Also, Code Fluffy is a real thing for me. I do this often when I feel down, usually watching Disney films and cuddling my partner or best friend. It's always my advice for people who aren't having a good day. And I always get told that it made them feel a little better. So, if you ever feel horrible or anxious, Code Fluffy. It works. Also, nests are great. Me and my friend used to make these outside in summer on my veranda (back when we lived in a double story house), usually with candles and fairy lights. Anyway, that's all for now. Bye!

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