#she’s been awake for about like 5 hours or sum

[gaybabey17]

Seccie tryin her best to not fall asleep after the horrid nightmare she had while Ranzie is havin a blast in dreamland

geddit?

[shivunin]

Ohhhhh oh how about "One talking to the other when they think they're asleep" for Maria and Fenris pretty please?

Thank you for the prompt! <3 I had to ponder this a bit, but I am happy with the results c:

("Sharing a bed" prompts here; I am still open c:)

(Also, please forgive my rusty Latin; it's been eight years since I've had to actually use it for anything more than a party trick. I've also fiddled with the translation below for flow. Apologies to the memory of Catullus)

Tevene/Latin:

Tuus sum: I am yours

Corpus animaque: Body and soul

Placideque quiescas: Rest well and peacefully

Fenris/Maria Hawke | 1,138 Words | No warnings

Corpus Animaque

"Let us live, my Lesbia, and let us love, and the rumors of rather stern old men let us value all at just one penny! Suns may set and rise again; for us, when once the brief light has set, an eternal night must be slept. Give me a thousand kisses, then a hundred, then another thousand, then a second hundred, then yet another thousand, then a hundred; then, when we have performed many thousands, we shall stir them into confusion, so that we might not know, and in order not to let any wicked person envy us, when he knows that our kisses number so many." ---Catullus 5*

“Say something in Tevene,” Hawke had murmured to him perhaps half an hour ago. 

Fenris, who was now well versed in what Hawke sounded like when she was trying to force herself to stay awake, had obliged. He’d taught her hello and goodbye, then described the room at length in disinterested tones, all the while allowing his voice to grow ever quieter. Maria slept deeply now, her cheek pillowed on her arm atop the pillow, and Fenris let his head rest on its side so he could watch her. 

It had been strange to speak the tongue of his birth with her—odd, like two halves of his life twining when he’d expected them to be forever as water and oil. There was something, though, in speaking to Maria when he knew she could not understand him. Fenris pondered this for a time, listening to the crackle of the fire at her hearth and the soft whistle of her sleeping breath. 

“Cor mea,” Fenris murmured after a moment: my heart, a simple enough endearment.

Hawke did not stir. She’d rested her hand near his shoulder, as she often did, and he’d obligingly twined his fingers with hers. Fenris set his other hand over both now, cradling her hand between his. 

There were things he ought to say to her. He knew that. But even now, when he was certain there would be no leaving her, words of love refused to slip easily from his lips. Not in the common tongue; not even in the one he’d spoken for most of his life. 

Not his own words; perhaps the words of others would come to him more easily. 

“Vivamus, mea Maria, atque amemus,” he murmured, feeling the pulse at her wrist where it pressed against his, “rumoresque senum severiorum onmes unius aestemimemus assis.”

Maria pulled her hair back in a red silk scarf when she slept. It prevented her hair from tangling too badly in the night and kept either of them from rolling onto her bounty of curls while they slept. Now, a small curl had snuck from its confines just below her ear, threatening to tickle the sensitive skin and wake her. Fenris lifted one hand and tucked it back with the rest, moving slowly and carefully. Hawke did not stir, for which he was grateful. There was more yet to say. 

“Soles occidere et redire possunt;” Fenris went on, “nobis, cum semel occidit brevis lux, nox est perpetua una dormienda.” 

An eternal night indeed; they had, both of them, seen enough of death to last several lifetimes. Her pulse thrummed steadily against his own, as if in sweet answer to the unspoken undertone to the words. They were alive now, the two of them; whatever rest they might share tonight was not that long rest, but the blink of an eye in the span of their days.

There will be other nights, she’d told him once. He dwelled too heavily on dreadful possibilities now. While she still slept…let him finish this, at least. 

Fenris spoke the rest of the words—give me a thousand kisses, then a hundred, then another thousand—meaning each of them as he spoke. They were not his words; they were borrowed from someone he’d never met. Even so, they seemed intended for something like this: a room that held only the two of them, an unusually clear night in Kirkwall which showed the stars clearly through her bedroom window, and the gradually softening light from the fire that kept them warm. Such words should be exchanged in whispers and the touches of hands, intended only for a lover’s ears.

It felt wrong to end with the poem, but Fenris didn’t have to cast about for something to end with. There were other words he’d told her before, words he’d conveyed in a dozen different ways if not a hundred. He’d seen her concern when he’d said them the first time—I am yours—as if she was worried about why he might say that. As if she thought he’d somehow conflated her with those who would have owned him once.

The whole of it was too much to explain, too strange to say aloud: if I may at last choose what to do with my life, I choose to give it to you. I would give all of myself to you if I could, because you would never ask me to, because you have insisted on seeing me as a person from the first moment we met. 

Too formal. 

Too many possible hidden meanings, when he’d first said the words to her in those bruised days after that disastrous night together. Fenris had chosen the easiest ones instead of the explanation, willing to risk her concern in exchange for some level of understanding. 

It was easier now; he could say them with more affection, and she’d returned the words more than once. They meant something different when Hawke said them, but that had never bothered him. 

“Tuus sum,” Fenris told her now, the words feeling firmer in this language, more binding—though the weight of them was a comfortable one, words and bonds he’d chosen rather than ones that had been chosen for him. 

“Corpus animaque,” Fenris finished, his voice hardly more than a whisper, “placideque quiescas, cor mea.”

It seemed fitting, somehow, to dip his head and kiss her hand then. If he were less tired, he may have considered why such an implicit vow had felt necessary. Matters had passed tense in Kirkwall weeks ago and slid unstoppably toward some imminent danger. Fenris could not smooth her way; he could not fight her battles for her. 

But he could hold her hand in the night, and whisper to her of kisses and days to come. He could stay by her side as long as she would allow him. 

As long as there was strength in his arms, as long as he could stand with her, he believed he would see her safe. He had never been an optimist; if pressed, he would not wager on their odds. 

But Hawke—he believed in her. If anyone could navigate them out of this disaster, it was her.

“Mea cor,” he said one more time, setting her hand back over his chest with exquisite care. 

The time for words had passed. It was past time for rest. Fenris looked at Hawke once more before he closed his eyes, tracing the shadows of her face, the softness of her eyelids, the unfading smile lines on either side of her mouth. When he’d looked his fill for now (only for now; it could never be enough for forever, as he knew well), Fenris closed his eyes at last. 

It was much longer before his focus slipped from the steady pulse in her wrist and Fenris fell asleep at last.

*Base source for translation: Wikipedia

(I know, there are prettier versions elsewhere, but it's nearly one am and i don't want to look)

[blooming-violets]

Pinky Promise || TASM Ch. 3

Summary: [Part One] [Part Two] It’s time to add a bit of drama into the end of this one. Why not? That’s not a summary but I’m bad at summing things up.

—————-

Peter.

Peter.

Peter.

Spider-Man’s name was Peter.

You repeated his name in your head as you laid on your bed and stared at the cracks in the ceiling. “Peter,” you whispered into the dark room. His name sounded nice on your lips. You smiled and rolled onto your side, snuggling deeper into the blankets. 

It had been easy for him to convince you to return home after he eased your worries about your sister. Knowing that she was safe gave you the confidence you needed to leave the hospital. He had helped you into your building and up to your forth floor room. You thought about inviting him inside to get warm but then you remembered where you lived. It was too embarrassing to let someone else into your place. The paint was peeling, there were tiles missing on the floor, mold grew in patches over the walls and ceiling, it was no place to invite a superhero. So you had said your quick goodbyes in the hallway and watched him jump out the window at the end of the hall. Part of you wondered if you’d ever see him again. 

“Don’t get your hopes up,” you thought to yourself. Spiderman was a man of the people. Just because you felt like you had made a new friend today, doesn’t mean he felt the same way. This was technically his job. He's probably done similar things for people like this all month. You weren’t anything special. 

Just another saved person to add his ever growing list.

Still. You couldn’t help but hope you’d get to meet again. 

Your thoughts faded as you sunk deeper into your bed. Sleep pulled at your exhausted mind. You welcomed it. 

---

A loud alarm jolted you awake. It was still dark in your room. The clock on your nightstand read 5:30. Its red glow bathing your skin in its light as you reached out to shut it off. 

“I hate my life,” you breathed with fatigue. 

You forgot you had to work today. Judging by what time you got home last night, you estimated you probably managed about two hours of sleep total. A pained cry whimpered dramatically out of you. 

“You can do this. You got this. Just get up.” with a loud groan you rolled your body out of the comforts of your bed and into a standing position. 

The floor was cold under your bare feet and your knees ached as you padded towards the bathroom. You flicked on the bathroom light and the single, tiny light bulb did it’s best to brighten up the small room.

“I hate everything. I hate everything. Everything is awful. My life sucks,” you spoke to yourself while turning on the shower. “This shower is stupid. I’m tired. I hate my life.” It was your morning mantra you repeated to yourself every day. Olivia often called you a drama queen when she over heard you but you didn’t mind. Drama queen or not, you were tired and everything hurt. 

Your old t-shirt and underwear were cast to the floor as you stepped into the luke warm shower. The water had worse pressure than usual this morning and it only ever got mildly warm but it was enough to soothe your aching body. You lathered shampoo into your scalp as you let your head fall backwards under the stream. 

Yesterday had felt like a dream. You were still trying to comprehend everything that happened. It was like a lifetime of emotions hit you over the course of a few hours. Poor Olivia. After your shower, you’d pack a bag of her clothes to bring to her. Maybe you could call in sick to work? You really should focus on cleaning your own house instead of a strangers. Surely Olivia’s social worker was bound to make a home visit in the upcoming days. 

Anxiety stirred your empty stomach at the thought. You’d have to make this place look as perfect as you could. Finishing your shower, you grabbed a towel, dried yourself off and wrapped it around your body. You wiped what little condensation had formed on the mirror away and stared back at yourself. 

There were dark bags under your bloodshot eyes. It felt like you had aged considerably in just a short moment. Seeing Olivia fall had probably taken a few years off your life. You huffed and grabbed your toothbrush, tossing on some toothpaste and sticking it in your mouth. 

“We’re going to need to layer on the makeup today,” you thought. You wouldn’t want Olivia to see you looking this haggard. It would worry her. She was always so good at picking up on the smallest of details. 

As you spit your toothpaste into the sink, you turned the water back on to rinse your mouth. It sputtered pathetically out of the faucet. You quickly leaned down and grabbed a mouthful, spitting it back out, before the water disappeared entirely. You turned the tap on and off a few more times. Nothing. 

Hmm. Did you forget to pay your bills? You walked out into the kitchen and tried the tap there too. Also nothing. 

You thanked your luck for managing to get in a shower before the water was turned off. You’d add calling your landlord to your list of things to do today. Not that he would be of any help. That’s all you needed was extra stuff to worry about. 

You flicked on your bedside lamp and sat on the floor in front of your full length mirror, a makeup bag tucked between your legs. As you began to apply foundation, you called your manager, Patty, putting her on speaker phone. There was no way you could work today. You’d need to get things ready for Olivia when she came home. 

It rang twice before an annoyed voice picked up on the other end, “What do you want?” 

“Hey, this is Lucy.”

“I know,” the woman’s voice sounded irked in response. “I have caller id. The question still stands. What do you want?”

You patted concealer under your eyes as you spoke, “I need the day off today. My sister is in the hospital. I have a million things I have to do. I just can’t make it today.” 

Patty laughed. It wasn’t a nice laugh. “Absolutely not. You’ve already taken too much time off. You’re on duty today. We got a new client. I recommended you to her. You need to stop by the office today, pick up the spare key, and go straight to her house.”

“I can’t, Patty. My sister is in the hospital,” you repeated. “I need t-”

She interrupted you mid sentence, “I know. I watch the news. I saw that Spider-thing catch her. She ain’t dead. Therefore, you need to be into work by 8 o’clock if you still want a job. Otherwise I’m firing you on the spot. You’re replaceable, kid.”

There was no joking tone in her voice. You knew she was serious. I hate my life. “Alright, alright. Fine. I’ll be there. I just have to stop by the hospital and drop off a bag for my sister.”

“I don’t care what you do as long as you’re here by 8,”  she hung up without saying goodbye. 

The clock now read 6:15. It was time to get a move on. You swiped a mascara wand over your lashes and threw some lip balm on your lips before slipping into your work clothes. There was no time for coffee. Your water didn’t work anyway so it wasn’t like you’d even be able to make it. Your stomach growled. There would be no time for food either.

You stood in middle of your bedroom and looked around with a slight panic. “Okay, think. What do I need?” 

A bag for Liv. You dumped out the contents of her school bag and began throwing clothes into it instead. Some underwear, three t-shirts, a sweater, her favorite fluffy socks, and a pair of sweats. It was just three days. That should be enough. You grabbed her tooth brush and hair brush, unsure exactly what kind of things the hospital would provide for her. As you went to slip into your own boots to leave, you caught of a glimpse of Bobo, Olivia’s stuffed teddy bear. An eye was missing and he looked like he could use a good wash but he had always been her favorite. 

You scooped him up and hugged him into your arms. Tears burned in your eyes. He smelled like her. “Take care of our Livvy,” you whispered into his matted brown fur. “Keep her safe while I’m not there.” 

You gently tucked him on top of her things and zipped the bag closed. You blinked the tears away, not wanting to ruin your freshly applied mascara, and prepped yourself to leave. 

Turning to lock your door behind you, you caught sight of an envelope taped to the old, yellowing door. It was addressed to Olivia. You pulled it down and opened it. You refused to hand your sister a strange note without reading it first to make sure it was appropriate.  

“Dear Olivia,

Hi, this is Spiderman writing to you. I wanted to check in and see how you were doing. You really scared me the other day. I don’t want to see you get hurt. You would be doing me a big favor if you could keep you feet firmly planted on the ground from now on. I’d never want to see anything bad happen to you. You’re too special to get hurt. 

I heard your sister say that you won every science fair you ever entered. I used to win at my science fairs too. Maybe when you’re older, you can be my trusty sidekick. I need someone smart and strong to help out. Until then, stay safe, keep learning, and stop climbing onto roofs. 

From, 

Your Friendly Neighborhood Spiderman

P.S. I hope you know how much your sister loves you. I think she would do anything for you. Remember to tell her you love her from time to time. 

P.P.S. When you get back home, I hope I’m still invited to dinner.”

Tucked into the letter was a polaroid picture of Spiderman giving a thumbs up at the camera as he squatted outside the hospital she was staying at.  

The letter wasn’t helping your growing love for him. He was too kind. You knew Olivia would lose her mind with excitement when she received this. You slung her bag off your shoulder and put it in front of you, opening the zipper and placing the letter safely in Bobo’s arms for her to find later. 

---

The fresh snow that had fallen in the night was already turning to dirty slush on the sidewalks. Snow in the city never stayed beautiful for long. You kicked at the heavy slush with your boot and hurried your way in the direction of the hospital. It was about a fifteen minute walk from your apartment. You doubted you would actually be able to see Olivia this morning, you’d have to wait until visiting hours later, so dropping off her things would probably only take ten minutes at the most if you rushed. Then you’d need to catch the subway to head back to the office in order to retrieve the key and your cleaning supplies. Assuming the subway was on time, you estimated it would take another twenty minutes of travel. Then you’d need to haul everything back into the subway, find out where the new client lived, and hope that it was close enough for you make it there before 8 or else you’d be fired. 

There was no way you’d make it. 

Still, you had to try. Your wet hair slashed across your face in the wind as you hurried towards the hospital. It would be really convenient to have special web powers right about now to sling you forward at a faster speed. What a nice way it would be to travel. Being a normal human sucked. 

You jogged into the hospital, trying to run to the elevator, but were quickly stopped by security. He put an arm out to keep you from moving forward, “Excuse me, ma’am. You need to wait in line with every one else.” 

You looked to where he was pointing. A line of about fifteen people stood waiting to walk through a metal detector before being allowed to enter the premises. You groaned in frustration. You had forgotten about all the heavy security measures that the city added over the years. This would add even more time onto your day. 

You were so screwed. 

---

“Excuse me! Pardon me!” You shouted at you pushed your way out of the subway and through the crowds of people trying to climb up the stairs. It was 7:48. You had spent too long at the hospital talking to one of Olivia’s nurses. Now we were seriously racing the clock.

You sprinted as fast as you could towards your boss’ office. Meticulous Maids had its headquarters in the back section of an old building. Patty worked the phones and computers from there. It was where she housed all the cleaning supplies and orchestrated where each girl needed to be every day. 

She looked up from behind the counter with unimpressed eyes as you huffed out of breath in front of her. “You’re late,” she stated. 

“No,” you gasped for air. “I still have ten minutes. I can do it. I’m super fast. Fastest person alive. Just give me the address.” 

“Hm,” she pursed her lips together and slipped you a piece of paper with an address written on and the key. “If the client calls with any complaints, you’re out.”

You nodded and stuffed the paper into your pocket, grabbing a vacuum, a mop, and large, yellow bucket full of your supplies. “I won’t disappoint you. Promise.” 

“And I don’t care,” she turned back to reading something on her computer while you heaved the vacuum towards the door. 

---

It was always a challenge to carry an entire vacuum cleaner, long mop, and a heavy bucket filled with crap through the city. It was even worse in the winter. Somehow you had managed to get it onto the subway. You had even found a seat for you to rest in, your supplies cradled between your legs, trying to take up the least amount of room as possible. 

It was already 8 o’clock. Technically, you were late, but as long as the client didn’t tattle on you, you were in the clear. You glanced at the map pulled up on your phone. 20 Ingram Street, Queens. You weren’t familiar with that exact street but you knew it was in Forest Hills. A lot of old, beautiful homes there. According to your phone, it was about a twenty minute walk from the station. It’d probably take you longer when you had to drag your vacuum through the snow though. 

The rocking of the subway lulled your sleep deprived body into a sense of peace. You refused to close your eyes. Even on a Saturday morning, you wouldn’t dare make yourself vulnerable to those around you. To keep you from dozing off, you decided to put your hair into two french braids. You worked on the right side of your head when you started to overhear a conversation. Something he was saying caused your ears to perk up and listen. 

A middle aged man in a business suit stood across from you. He was on the phone and speaking loudly. He had that sort of attitude where he was used to being the most respected man in a room. He didn’t care who overheard him. 

“I got a call from my secretary at work an hour ago. She told me the water had been shut off to the entire building. My wife was bitching at me this morning because the water had broke in our house, now it’s not working at my office either. I thought I was going crazy. Then Jim from the station gives me a call. You remember him? You met him at the Christmas party last year. Mhm, that’s the one. He called to let me know people all over the city are losing water. He sent some guys down to figure out what’s going on. He told me he’d give me a call back when he figured it out. I know, it’s ridiculous. You better believe I’m going to start suing people if this issue isn’t resolved soon.” His voice faded back into ambient noise once he began talking about things that didn’t interest you.

“That was interesting”, you mused in your head as you finished the first braid and began working on the second. It seemed you weren’t the only one who was having water issues this morning. It was almost a relief. At least it wasn’t something you did. You just hoped your clients house had running water. It’d be awfully hard to clean properly without it. 

--- 

You doubled checked the address on the paper with the one in front of you. It was a nice house. Brick. A front porch. It looked charming and inviting. You gave a quick knock before sticking in the key and turning knob. In all the years of working as a house cleaner, you never got used to just walking into someone else’s home when they weren’t there. 

“Hello? Meticulous Maid cleaning service,” You called out politely. You took a quick glance around the open rooms from the front hall. When no one replied, you began to set up your things.

Each cleaner had their own method of tasks they liked to start with. You liked to begin by tidying up anything that was on the floor and putting them into neat piles for the owner to sort through on their own. Then you’d do the dusting, window washing, anything up high that would potentially drip below. When those were finished you would vacuum, sweep, mop, whatever needed to be done. Then you’d finish it up by doing any dishes or polishing any surfaces. You liked to move room by room, starting in the back and working your way forward towards the front door. That way you wouldn’t have to trudge your dirty, tired self through all the rooms you had just cleaned when you were finished. 

You pulled your headphones out of your pocket and placed them over your ears. You scrolled to your work playlist and let the music drown out everything else. With your yellow bucket of supplies in your hand, you wondered through the house, inspecting things as you went. The voyeuristic part of your brain loved being a cleaner. Each person’s home was so different and so unique to them. Even if you hardly met the people who owned them, you felt you knew so much about them.

This was a real home. It wasn’t perfectly tidy and showcase worthy. There were piles of things stacked up in corners and clutter on every surface. People lived here. Some of the homes you had been in made it seem like the person staying there lived inside a magazine catalog, not allowed to touch anything or make themselves comfortable. Everything had to be perfect. Not here though. Imperfections were allowed. 

You wondered up the stairs to the top floor. There were only three rooms up here. It shouldn’t be too hard to clean. Out of the three rooms, two had the doors closed. It was Meticulous Maid policy that if you didn’t want a room cleaned, you just had to simply keep the door closed. The only open door on this floor was to the bathroom. You guessed the other two rooms were the bedrooms. Lots of people didn’t like the idea of a stranger invading the room the slept in. You didn’t blame them for wanting to keep it private. 

You pushed open the bathroom and placed your bucket on top of the closed toilet seat. An Albert Einstein poster hung next to the sink. It was that famous picture of him sticking out his tongue. The quote under it read “Imagination is more important than knowledge.” You smiled. It was a cute little detail. You weren’t used to seeing posters in people’s bathrooms. 

The first thing you did was try the sink. You turned the faucet. It made a strange squeaking noise you could just hear over the music in your ears but nothing came out. 

“That’s so strange...” you wondered out loud to yourself. 

Just then a heavy forced knocked you to the ground. Your face pressed against the cold tiles under you. “Ow,” you rubbed your head and rolled onto your back to see what had hit you. 

Standing in the doorway was Peter. It took you a second to recognize him without his suit. He was wearing a dark green t-shirt and black boxers. His hair was a mess and he had a look of utter confusion on his face. It looked as if he had just rolled out of bed. 

“Peter?” you asked with bewilderment. 

He replied with equal confusion of his own, “...Lucy?” 

“Did you just hit me?” You arm stung from where you were pretty sure he had shoved you to the floor. 

“I think I might have. Why are you in my house?” His eyes had a wild glint in them. They darted around the room, trying to search for anyone who might be hiding there. His entire body was on high alert. 

“Dude, calm down. It’s okay. I was hired to work here. I’m a house cleaner. Meticulous Maids...where all your cleaning needs will be met with a smile,” you repeated the company catch phrase with a monotone voice. “Heard of it?” 

You pulled yourself up into a sitting position. Your head still rang from where it had hit the tiles. Your poor headphones lay cracked in half on the ground, music still blasting out of them. “Oh man, I got those for Christmas,” you hit pause on the music and looked at them sadly before turning back to Peter. 

Except he was no longer in the door way. 

“Uh, Peter...or...Spiderman? I don’t know what to call you. You good?” You pulled yourself up and stuck your head out the door. He wasn’t in the hallway but you heard the sound of the tv turn on downstairs. You decided to follow him down. 

He was standing in the living room, the remote in hand, and flicking through news channels. 

You stepped behind him to see what he was looking for, “Are you okay?”

“Something’s wrong,” he mumbled. 

He finally settled on the station he was looking for. It was a local news agency. A woman was frantically reporting down by the East River. She was mid sentence as Peter turned up the volume, “-completely draining the river! He was last seen making his way towards the center of the borough. The mayor has urged Queen residents to stay inside your houses! It is unknown what sort of damage he is capable of causing.” While she spoke her last sentence, video footage played of a giant creature rising out of the river. He, himself, was completely made of water it seemed. He sucked up every bit of water around him causing his form grow taller and wider with each passing second. The thing was massive. He towered above the people screaming under him. 

“Holy shit,” you whispered. “What is that thing?” 

Peter didn’t reply. He dashed back upstairs. You followed him with your eyes before turning back to the tv. It showed footage of people screaming as huge waves washed down on them. Some lost their footing and were carried away off screen. The creature opened its mouth and screamed with a deep booming voice, “I. Am. Hydro-Man! Get me Spiderman!” Your eyes widened. Whatever this monster-man-water creature was, he was not happy with Peter. 

“Lucy!” he called from upstairs. 

You turned and dashed up the steps, taking two at a time. Peter’s door was wide open and you watched as he threw his mask over his face, already completely suited up. How was he supposed to fight something that was entirely made of water? 

“Stay here! I’m serious this time. Don’t move!” He lectured you as he lifted his window open and crawled out, leaving you alone. 

You didn’t have much time to reply before he disappeared. Silence settled in the house except for the muffled sounds of the tv from the floor under you. You just stood there, unsure of what to you were supposed to do next. 

It was then you heard the loud rattling begin in the bathroom across the hall. You turned your head to the sound. Slowly, you stepped towards it. The shower head was violently shaking as the pipes wailed inside the walls. Something was not right. It looked like it was going to explode. 

“Uhm...Peter...” you turned back towards Peter’s room. He was still gone. You were still alone. 

The shower head shot off the pipe and landed with a loud bang into the tub, cracking the surface. You screamed at the sound and pressed your back against the wall. Water rushed out of the exposed pipe with such heavy pressure you were sure it would burst any second. Waves cascaded over the side of the tub and sloshed around the bathroom floor. It knocked your bucket off the toilet seat and slammed it against the door locking you in. The sound of the water was almost deafening as it filled the room. You felt it wrap around your ankles, like two large hands grabbing you, and pulled you forcefully onto the floor. 

You fell down, water now up to your waist as you were forced into a sitting position, you back still pressed against the wall. Your heart felt like it might burst out of you chest at any moment. 

A figure of a man started to take shape amongst the water and rose up tall before you. He was featureless but you tell he was staring right at you. 

“Now who do we have here?” He leaned towards you, water splashing off him and hitting your face. 

You closed your eyes in fear. 

“Help me,” you whimpered. 

[Part Four]

[alluringjae]

queen of hearts - sjn

summary: for the first time, one of your star students hasn’t been fetched right after class. but when she finally does, you weren’t expecting such a fine man to be her father.

pairing: johnny x female reader

word count: 5.5k

genre: fluff, romance, comedy | ceo and single dad!johnny + ballerina!reader + modern day!au

warnings: mentions of an absent parent, johnny being an overthinker, sexual innuendos (ten saying dilf hehe), slight explicit language, technical terms of ballet, a mini reference to mean girls

author’s note: sooo i came in touch with my former dance life, which led me to write this. there are links for the variations i used; their names are underlined when they’re mentioned. i am going to get technical with ballet terms here (even when my ballet knowledge decreased), so to any dancers reading, i really did my best, so please don’t come for me or do correct me for any mistakes.

although one character and her dance background, plus the name of the setting, are real, everything else about it is still a work of fiction.

i miss dancing, no cap.

leave me some feedback, constructive criticism or hellos!

Ballet student and teacher by day, a soloist of the Korean National Ballet at night.

This was your daily routine, and it wasn’t the typical 8-5. But it’s debatable whether or not it was worse, because you’re always going overtime. That’s the thing when you’re an overachiever. Nonetheless, you loved what you do. It’s the lifestyle you gradually built since your preschool days.

Mornings on the weekdays were mostly vacant since all the kids were still in school. You’d start at 10 am for a warm-up class for the company. Before you delved into teaching and assisting, you’d train right after your lunch break. Partnering class, en pointe class, 1-on-1 sessions with choreographers, self-practice, then the company night class, that’s the organization of your week.

Now adding the teacher title, you mostly handled kindergartners to 5th graders in the academy aspect of the company. Your first teaching class would start at 1 pm. It’s when the younger students who finished their morning classes zoom into your assigned dance studio. One class would last an hour and a half, then you have a 30-minute break in between another class with the older kids. Their lesson repertoire was more strenuous due to the added across-the-floor lessons and jumps. Water was always your best friend, water refilling stations located everywhere in the company building.

You wouldn’t say you’re a strict teacher, but you weren’t shy to correct anyone from wherever you stood. You’d lightly align their arms or back properly so your students were working on the correct body parts. Compared to the other teachers, a lot of students enjoyed your kind yet frank approaches. Your former students, who’ve already gone to the higher levels, missed your lively presence and wished repeatedly that they want you back as their teacher.

“Teacher (Y/N), I miss you so much! Teacher Ten is so intense. I get the jitters especially when we’re en pointe on the floor.”

“Teacher (Y/N), Teacher Sicheng and Teacher Seulgi scare the heck out of me during partnering class. Especially when I tried to lift my partner, I keep losing focus because of Teacher Sicheng’s never-ending comments!”

Not to be sadistic, but you’d simply laugh at their minuscule complaints. Even if they’re struggling in the academy, those comments were directed to fix their techniques if they wanted to breakthrough.

“Kids, you’re going to be fine! They wouldn’t say or do those things just because they wanted to. They’re here to push you to the next level, like how I used to do with you. It’s a cut-throat industry after all.”

This was always your reply, bittersweet and truthful. Not everyone makes it, unfortunately, so if you’re really striving, you’d do whatever it takes. Throughout your career, you’re relatively impressed with how far you’ve come.

Trainee at 17, Corps de Ballet at 18, Demi-Soloist at 21, and Soloist at 23.

You’ve been a soloist for 4 years. The final stage, which was to become a principal dancer, is your running goal. Becoming a soloist was praiseworthy enough because you’ve seen so many give up in the Corps, but claiming a spot as a principal dancer has been the ultimate dream. Since you’ve watched Swan Lake for the first time at 4 years old with your parents, that’s where you found a passion for dancing and the stage. Here you are years later, practicing numerous variations daily, performing in opera houses, and mentoring all these gifted kids.

Your last class with elementary kids, which began around 5 pm, reached its end once all the students curtsied in front of you and scurried to their mothers or their nannies. The remaining plan on your agenda today was the company class at 7:30 pm, which exceeds the average hour and a half. It’s worse during show season. There have been times everyone went beyond midnight to polish every scene from head to toe.

Currently, there’s no upcoming show for the public, though the annual summer recital for the students was around the corner. Selected members of the company were chosen to perform individually in it, which was both exciting and intense. It’s also because it’s an evaluation on whether you’d get promoted in status or staying put. You’ve partaken in 3 recitals in the past, two of which elevated you from the corps and demi-soloist ranks. The recent one, however, didn’t change your soloist ranking.

It was a major first in your career in ballet, and after finding out the result of the latter, it emotionally pained you. Recalling how much soul you put into that piece, the rejection from your artistic director clenched your heart. Though in time, you moved on from it and viewed it as a stepping stone. Also, Sicheng and Ten personally stormed your apartment to pull yourself together with wine and pizza after going on a short leave.

Since you were trainees, Sicheng and Ten were your best friends in and outside the company. Working daily to occasional barhopping, that’s your youth summed up. It wasn’t because you didn’t like the girls you’ve worked with (though a lot of them were fake and bitchy), but these two were frank and humorous as hell. Together, you’d help each other with your goals rather than be competitive. Over time, Ten leveled up to a principal dancer for 2 years running while you and Sicheng were still soloists. The way you’d watch Ten take all the big roles, that’s where you want to be one day.

Back in your last teaching class, the entire dance room was vacant. Since it’s mainly used for ballet classes, you’d either run through anything you’ve practiced from the company classes and polish it or warm up a little bit more.

Except for today, this was the only free time to sew a new pair of pointe shoes because your current ones were dead. Dead in a sense that the hard shell turned soft, which won’t be able to support you when you’re up on your toes. You’re not taking any risks of minor injuries especially when you’re in the current lineup of company members performing for this upcoming recital again. You have to prove to everyone that you deserve a position as a principal dancer.

As your legs sprawled in a half middle split, your sewing equipment laid in front of you like you’re about to perform surgery, a tiny girl stood by the ajar studio doors. In her neat bun and holding on to her small duffel bag, you’re convinced everyone has gone home already since it’s quite late.

You may have your priorities as a company member, but she was still your student.

“Minji!” You shouted her name, speedily waving your hand. You’re not one to have favorites, though you couldn’t help wonder how extraordinary she was. She’s always taking charge in demonstrating the lessons to everyone and improving every session in the 3 years she’s joined the academy. “Come in! Come in!”

At age 7, she’s gotten taller through the years, above the average from how you see it. She must have amazing genetics. Her legs sauntered in seconds to you. Sitting down across you, she marveled at your setup. Specifically, at the fresh pointe shoes.

“Are those yours, Teacher (Y/N)?” She perked up, caressing its soft fabric and playing with the mini bows of the drawstrings.

“Yes, it is, Minji!” You answered while trying to insert the thin thread through the small eye of the needle. “Why are you still here? Is your nanny stuck in traffic or something?”

“My nanny went on sudden leave, so my dad’s the one fetching me. But I think he’s running late from his job.”

Oh, this was a first to know about her father. In all the years she’s been your student, you rarely caught sight of him, even in recitals. Maybe he sat in an unknown section, but you’re pretty much acquainted with all the parents of your students. Even if some were snobbier than the rest because they wanted their child to have more stage time, you still got to know them out of respect. Quite odd, if you said so yourself.

After deep concentration, the thread triumphantly passed through the eye so you tied the two ends of the thread in a double knot. Seeing as Minji attentively watched you, you tasked her to cut the ribbons of your shoes according to the trail of pencil marks. This was so she wouldn’t cut it too short or too long. While she did that, you hammered your shoes against the floor to soften the hard front, bending the shank back and forth so the arch of your feet could move without difficulty later.

Minji wasn’t expecting such loud sounds, her entire body shaken awake. Her facial expression was priceless, explaining to her, “Once you get your first pointe shoes in a few years, this is one of the basic things you need to do so your feet won’t hurt too much while dancing.”

“Will you be there to teach me how to make my pointe shoes?”

“Absolutely! Come to me first then I’ll mentor you all that I know.”

The process of sewing and breaking new pointe shoes engraved your mind since your adolescent years, with changes along the way. Inspired by some tricks from your former teachers, but there were some differing rituals you followed. There’s no definite process of it, just as long you’re comfortable to dance after.

With your feet, you stepped on the hard boxes of the shoes to soften it more, creating a popping sound. Followed by sewing your elastic bands in. For your ribbons, you liked to burn the edges with a lighter so the thread of it won’t run. Kindly asking your cute assistant for the lighter beside her, you scanned the edges back and forth the flame. In seconds, the edges had a distinct mark, fully closed. From there, you slid your feet to your shoes to make final sewing adjustments. Sewing your ribbons took you another few minutes, plus adding superglue inside the shoe so the shoe won’t collapse when it unstiffens and scratching the shank with a cutter so you won’t slip later while dancing.

Voila, the final product is done! Hopefully, it can last you a week at least.

“Wow, Teacher (Y/N), it looks pretty!” Minji applauded, collecting the mess you’ve both made to dispose of later. You, on the other hand, gave her your thanks once you applied some bandages on your big toes and put on your toe pads. Slipping inside the shoes and tying them, you rose up back to your feet and headed to the bar to break them in. From plies-relevésto forced arches, the shoes gave you the sensation that they were an extension of your feet. The ease flowed through, meaning you were ready to practice your variations.

While you stepped your shoes in rosin for friction, your curious student moved to the front where the mirror lied to watch what you’ve prepared.

“What variation are you dancing to?”

“This is the Gamzatti variation from La Bayadere.” You replied, tapping the play button on your phone and racing to your position on the side. Talking a short ballet walk, you strongly prepared your arms before the music of the orchestra takes off.

This variation consisted of a lot of jumps and turns. Grand jetés, attitude turns, chaîné turns, you needed a lot of core control and proper spotting so you won’t get dizzy. The thrilling music lessened your nerves because you enjoyed learning this piece from one of the principal dancers, smiling and letting the music guide your legs. Once you nailed 3 consecutive grand jetés, the variation ended with a sus-sous and the wrists of your hands flicking upwards.

Holding it for 5 more seconds, you landed back on your feet with heavy breathing and a need for water. But before you could, small claps and cheers from Minji in front erupted. Momentarily, you’ve forgotten her presence because dancing solo puts you in your own space. You’d never let anyone take you away from it.

“Teacher (Y/N), that was wonderful! Are you performing that in the summer recital?”

Yikes, she’s right but she wasn’t meant to see it yet. Solo performances from the company members for the recital were top secret, only unveiled during the production rehearsal. Well, you didn’t think this through, but you didn’t mind.

“Can you keep a secret?”

Time ticked a lot faster today, only 10 minutes left until the company class on the ground floor whereas you were in the second. Just a few steps down the stairs away, yet Minji was still here. You only presumed that within your hour break, her father could’ve made it already. But maybe he’s stuck in traffic or at work.

“Minji, my class starts soon. Have you contacted your father?”

“I already texted him earlier, but he hasn’t responded. This happens often, he’s a busy man.” She bowed in front of you suddenly. “I’m sorry, Teacher (Y/N) for the hassle.”

“Oh no, please!” You shook your hands so she’d stop. Because this situation was relatively new, you were unsure of how to handle it. Or that was until you remembered what Ten texted you earlier. “Minji, the blinds of the main studio are going to be lifted so anyone from the outside can view us practicing. Would you like to watch until your dad gets here?”

With her insistent nodding, she situated herself in one of the seats in the front row. When you entered the main studio, your two close companions already carried a metal barre to the center and leaned towards it while observing you walking to them in your flat shoes.

“I see we have a bit of an audience here.” Ten glimpsed at the young girl, astonished by the many dancers prepping and chatting away with their cliques from the glass barrier.

“Her dad isn’t here yet, and you did say the blinds were up today. Might as well give her a show while she waits, you know.” You lifted your right leg to the top barre, stretching it with your arms.

“Hmmm, shouldn’t her dad be more cautious though? It’s getting late and it’s a Thursday. Doesn’t she have school or something?” Sicheng pointed out, discarding his muscle tee to straighten out his leotard.

“That’s not my business though. She’s just my student, and since she’s still here, I have to entertain her while she waits.”

Before your friends said anything back, the artistic director of the ballet company strutted her way to the center of the room. It’s a common rule here that once she entered, everyone must be silent to listen and race to any free spot in the numerous barres spread out if they haven’t.

“Alright, everyone. We’ll do the typical barre, then before doing across the floor exercises, I’ll be requesting those performing solos already in the recital to dance any variation tonight as another evaluation on who deserves to perform twice.” She eyed the pianist directly beside her. “Proceed first with two demi-pliés then one grand plié. Don’t forget to do the port de bras of each position.”

As the live piano music played, your focus was divided. Partly properly executing the exercise while your artistic director roamed each barre area, partly thinking about what variation to perform. This was a first for the company, and everyone was just stunned to hear the breaking news. It’d be nice to get an extra opportunity to showcase to people your potential.

30-40 minutes flew by quickly. As the guys carried the bars to the side to clear out the floor and the girls changed to their pointe shoes, the artistic director ordered all the performers of the recitals to stand in a line in front of her. Everyone else was seated around the room, so the interested eyes of everyone were on you. There were 10 performers, half are from the corps and the other half are either demi-soloists or soloists. You and Sicheng stood beside each other, internally shaking with nerves under the intimidating eyes of the artistic director. She used to be a principal dancer for the Stuttgart Ballet in Germany before moving back to Seoul, making her undeniably capable of leading all of you.

“Okay,” From her seated position observing the 10 performers, her finger pointed at you directly. “Ms. (Y/L/N) (Y/N), you perform first.”

Your nerves intensified and more sweat streamed out your upper body. Even if going first felt more relieving, no one was ever brave enough to perform individually in front of the esteemed artistic director. Principal dancers aside from Ten that you’re close with were intimidated when they have 1-on-1 or partnering sessions with her. But anyhow, in less than 2 minutes, you’d be done. This wasn’t the first time she’s had your full attention either, so you’ll treat it like the other individual performances you’ve had.

You smiled to yourself when the other soloists left you alone, while you gave the name of the variation you’re dancing to the pianist. Running to the side to put on a practice tutu, the artistic director asked, “What will you be dancing for us tonight, (Y/N)?”

“I’ll be dancing Queen of the Dryads from Don Quixote.”

The last time you did this variation was 3 years ago during the recital that didn’t change your position as a soloist. Even if this variation hurt to think about for a while, it was still one of your favorites to watch and do. Moving on, you could only muse how powerful and beautiful you felt at that time. This isn’t an easy piece to perform in your opinion. Yet according to the members of the company, this was their favorite solo of yours.

As the starting notes unfolded, you took a deep breath and elegantly walked into the frame. You only wished you wore your fake crown again for this. Minimal smiling and light arms, you imagined yourself as an actual queen who captured the eyes of many. In this case, your fellow seniors and juniors held their breaths at the captivating sight of you.

Off you go into a series of glissade jeté developpé on relevé at elevating heights, then a fouetté arabesque and another arabesque on relevé before ballet walking again to the side to dance across the stage. Sissonne to the front, right developpé to the front on relevé, pique to prepare for a single pirouette, you gracefully did a chassé to the front twice and stood on your toes with a sus-sous.

Doing it a few more times, the climax of the entire variation was nearing. Returning to the center, you took another deep breath and lifted your left leg for the Italian fouettés. Spotting to the front and back while maintaining your balance, the variation approached its end with lame duck turns, posing with your arms were positioned at a 45-degree angle, your back slightly arched and your left leg doing a tendu derriére. Your eyes reflected at the mirror in front, surveying your alignment. Once your 5-second hold was finished, you properly put your arms down and closed your back leg into 5th position.

The applause from everyone in the room roared, Ten and Sicheng wolf-whistling even for more support. It’s a usual thing every time any of you perform individually, and no one minded it. The artistic director grinned, giving a quiet clap from the front before calling out the next performer, who was from the corps. Bowing to everyone hastily, you paid more attention to spot your student by the window. She was smiling ear to ear, waving both hands at you.

“You did amazing, Teacher!” She mouthed. Hearing words of praise from members was one thing, but hearing them from students was another. You’re so used to watching them and giving them your compliments that you often forget that you’re a dancer first before a teacher. Seeing them all delighted, saying that it motivates them more, showed that you’re doing a great job teaching them. You’re a reflection of what you pass down, and all you want was for them to be the best they could be.

From her jolly expression, a tall masculine silhouette hovered a part of the window. Her instinct of giving a brighter smile when the hand of said silhouette patted her head then carried her duffel bag again, that could only mean one thing. Excusing yourself to the artistic director, you stepped out to bid your goodbye and maybe meet her father. Minji and the tall man were about to leave the building if it weren’t for your breathy voice calling them out.

“Seo Minji and Mr. Seo?”

They stopped their tracks. Minji was fast to react, familiar with your voice and racing towards you for a sweaty hug. Meanwhile, your focus shifted once the masculine silhouette came into full view. You finally understood why Minji’s growth spurt spiked up, noticing that he was taller than Sicheng.

The top buttons of his shirt were off, yet he kept his formal blazer on. His hair was a bit tousled, some strands falling in front of his forehead. He must’ve run here. Peeking through were some roots of his scruff growing. His eyebags were almost as dark as his brown hair. Yet by the way his Rolex remained spotless, you blatantly assumed that he was more than well-off. Especially when the ballet academy was one of the most prestigious ones in Seoul.

Out of all the parents you’ve met, none of them appeared youthful like him.

“Teacher (Y/N)?” Thanks to Minji, you moved your staring eyes away from him. This was another first, since meeting only the fathers of your students wasn’t your norm. Meeting young-looking fathers, to be specific.

“O-Oh,” You ate your words, suddenly blanking out. “You’re leaving me without saying goodbye, Minji? Not polite of you.”

“My father was rushing right after watching your performance, and I don’t know why.” She responded, her finger scratching the top of her head in confusion. Speaking of said father, his strong presence appeared right in front of you. The wrinkles of his forehead creased while his eyes barely looked at yours.

“Uhm,” His fingers toyed with his Rolex. “I apologize for my tardiness. I got caught up in work and all, plus her nanny le-”

“Mr. Seo.” You halted his rambling, already aware of the situation. Like father, like daughter. “It’s fine. Minji loved watching us practice while waiting, and she wasn’t a bother either. You have nothing to worry about.”

“Phew.” He swiped an imaginative bead of sweat from his forehead, displaying his relief with his playful nature.

At age 23, Johnny Seo started his own company in the fashion scene and it grew internationally in the coming years. Then when Minji unexpectedly joined the picture, he’s been multi-tasking to make ends meet. Lately, as a CEO, he has had meetings and conferences on a daily. So, his position as a single father was always tested. It worsened when he rarely has proper time to spend any time with Minji unless it’s the weekend or late in the evening. Breaking it down, it wasn’t because he didn’t want to meet you. It was more like he couldn’t when his schedules were packed from head to toe.

Having the guilt of taking your precious time, “Seriously though, I am sorry for being late. Her nanny resigned suddenly, and I have no time to find her replacement.”

“Mr. Seo, again, don’t worry about it. As her teacher and a company member, I am practically here 24/7 so it won’t be a nuisance at all if this happens again.”

“Thank you so much, Teacher (Y/N). That is your name, right?” He planted his palm on his forehead, stressed. “Being a single parent is hard. I am always forgetting things.”

A part of you couldn’t restrain from feeling sorry for his struggle. Taking care of a child should be the work of both the mother and father, not one of them being absent. You’ve feared this would harm Minji, but she’s a strong girl.

“The fact you didn’t forget to fetch Minji despite the late time is still something to be happy over. I’m not a parent or anything, but parenting, in general, is a challenge.” You added an insight, patting the head of the young girl beside you. “Cut yourself some slack, Mr. Seo. I’m sure Minji still loves you, right?”

Minji shouted a big yes, now clinging to the leg of her father. “It’s okay, dad. Really.”

Over the years, Johnny has been doubtful of his parenting skills. He was an only child, and he struggled to ask for guidance from his own parents due to the shame of having a kid at a young age. So, he’d ask for help from his other friends and co-workers. No matter how many times they’ve reassured him that he’s doing well, he’s an overthinker who always reflected on the bad scenarios. There’s also that pressure to find someone who can fill that absent position not just for Minji, but for himself too. No matter how many girls he’s asked out or been set up with, he failed in the love department badly.

It’s the soothing way you voiced out your truth that made all these negative thoughts running through his head freeze briefly. Over the past 3 years since Minji started ballet, she always had a great story about you to share. One of them was how ballet made her a lot happier because of your influence. If he had at least an hour of his day to meet any of his daughter’s mentors, it would’ve been you.

“Do feel free to call me Johnny instead.” He casually introduced himself, taking his hand out for you to shake. “Mr. Seo makes me feel like I’m at work right now.”

Despite his informal approach, you understood his intentions and returned the action with a promising smile. “Pleasure to finally meet you, Johnny.”

“Pleasure is all mine, Teacher (Y/N).”

Earlier, the nerves from performing in front of the artistic director died down fast. But for some reason, they rose back up when you’ve spoken to this man in a matter of minutes. As someone whose feelings don’t flourish in a single glance, why did this man specifically deliver you such a strong effect?

If it weren’t for Ten calling for your name by the door, you would’ve held on to Johnny’s hand longer, which would’ve been inappropriate. Letting go first, this was your cue to return to your class.

“I must head back inside, Johnny. Don’t sweat on fetching your daughter late, though she is still a student with school the following day. Right, Minji?”

Minji nodded as Johnny kept that mind, knowing where he has to improve next.  “Yes, Teacher (Y/N). Thank you again, sincerely. I’ll definitely see you again in the coming days until Minji has a new nanny.”

“That’s no problem with me at all, Johnny.”

Soon as Johnny held his daughter’s hand to exit the studio and you were re-entering the studio with an impatient Ten, he swerved swiftly as if he forgot something.

“Oh by the way Teacher (Y/N), I saw your whole performance awhile ago. I was blown away, you deserved the applause.”

Although you could only distinguish his silhouette, you didn’t suppose he watched you from head to toe. Most parents or nannies would’ve dragged their kids out of the studio once they find them like they were on a tight schedule, so this was novel to experience. That performance showed your prime too.

“Thank you, Johnny. See you again soon.”

Giving a final nod, you led yourself back to the studio, not bothering to acknowledge the erupting heat on your cheeks and entire body. Not to sound narcissistic, but compliments weren’t foreign to you. You’re conscious of the hard work that you put in your talent and if they pointed out your greatness, why would you deny it? However, receiving one from Johnny was like gearing your engine with new fuel.

Before you could try to reject these harboring feelings, Ten was fast to pick up on it. You cannot hide anything from this man at all because body language was like another language he’s fluent in (aside from the other 5). Unlucky for you, the saga continued.

“You’re so into dilfs, (Y/N)!” He shrieked in your ear, nudging your shoulder repetitively. He placed things in his own way, yet they always shocked you because it was so inappropriate. Typical Ten for you.

“Shut up, Ten!” You objected, watching the other performers. You’ve improved in ignoring his remarks over time. That was until Sicheng sat down beside you after his solo and got up in your business. That placed you in the middle of boys from the water sign clan of astrology. They just loved getting down to your love life, going raunchy and whatnot.

“Who’s into dilfs, Ten?”

“A Miss (Y/N) beside you, who met Minji’s dad awhile ago, was basically eye-fucking him.” Ten elaborated, planting his elbows on your leg and gave you a sneaky glare. “Minji’s dad is fine as fuck, guys! I’m telling you, like a literal god! I’m surprised this is the first time he showed up here after 2-3 years?”

“How come (Y/N) is always getting students with good-looking parents? Especially the single moms.” Sicheng slumped his shoulders, attempting to get your attention too. “Is he that hot, (Y/N)?”

“Yah.” Sighing with annoyance, you’ve given up trying to appreciate one of the corps dancers with her rendition of Dulcinea from Don Quixote. “Don’t speak of Johnny like that. You barely know the man, yet you talk about him so unprofessionally."

“Oh, Johnny is his name, huh?” Sicheng sing-songed, bobbing his head. He’s certainly going to stalk him later on social media, you felt it in your chest. Like it was ESPN or something.

“Talking about being unprofessional, yet you’re here referring him as Johnny, not Mr. Seo.” Ten barked back, his lips pursed and one eyebrow lifted.

Just as soon as you could retaliate, the artistic director’s velvety voice boomed the room.

“Alright, thank you to the performers. I will deliberate with the staff and principal dancers over the weekend, and let you know the results on Monday. Now please, let’s proceed to the center.”

Everyone began to spread out on the wide floor, snatching a good position so they could monitor themselves in the mirror. Maybe you’ll defend yourself later after class because now, you needed to beat everyone else and have a crystal-clear view of yourself doing these following exercises.

In the meantime, Johnny was in the middle of driving Minji home. He had a designated chauffeur, but he gave him the night off because he wanted to spend time with Minji. Around this time, she’d be sleeping soundly, but instead, she’s boosting with so much life. She hasn’t even eaten dinner yet, which was the first thing on Johnny’s agenda now.

Playing Coldplay in the car, Minji belted some lyrics from her favorite songs while Johnny smiled to himself while listening to her attentively. Taking a breath, her thoughts reverted to her fantastic ballet teacher and shared them with her father.

“Dad! Don’t you just think Teacher (Y/N) is so cool? Ugh, I want to be just like her when I grow up.”

“Oh, to become a ballerina like her, you have to work hard every day and memorize lessons fast. Are you up for it, Minji?”

“Absolutely, dad! I want to pull off perfect jumps and turns like her one day!”

In the other after-school activities Johnny enrolled Minji in the past, none of them compared to the passion she had for ballet. Her work ethic was alike to Johnny’s: if they want something, they’ll do whatever it takes to make it possible.

Aside from being a star student in her school, she’s aiming to be a star ballerina. Being the supportive father he is, Johnny was on board to do what it takes to make it happen. Unlike his parents trying to mold him into the next heir of their company, he’s all ears to the dreams of his daughter. His only dream for her was to be live long and happy, not to merely pass on anything.

Johnny lost so much in his young life, so he doesn’t want to lose Minji in any way. As much as he loves his profession, he wanted to be an active father as much as time allowed it. He mostly received complaints from others that he’s not prioritizing his time well, but after hearing your kind words, this heavy weight on his shoulders decreased. All this doubt started to vanish after meeting you for the first time.

“Dad! Isn’t Teacher (Y/N) so beautiful?” Minji honored whilst gazing at the twinkling night sky. “She loves what she does and shines at it.”

Johnny was accustomed to his female co-workers throwing themselves at him due to his attractiveness, more than flattered even to have them feeling weak for him. Yes, there were times he used it to his advantage, some he frankly turned down. 

However, the radiance you carried whether you’re dancing or not was something Johnny couldn’t cease wondering about. Unknown to him, he’s the one getting weak. Behold, an unlocked first for the confident CEO.

“Yes, Minji. I do think Teacher (Y/N) is absolutely beautiful.”

[pjisskullourful]

. . ╰──╮𝕘𝕒𝕪 𝕖𝕟𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙╭──╯ . .

Damiano X Ethan X reader

🌈rainbow family part 1 [complete series]

🚨NSFW purely cos of swears cos this is FLUFF CITY BITCHAZ

° Damiano David & Ethan Torchio & female reader insert [throuple style]

° 5 years on- the Happily Ever After of the throuple is going strong as they prepare for the next chapter in their relationship

wordcount: 4,745

° thankyou to @superchrystaldrug for letting me brainstorm ideas & for encouraging my ridiculously fluffy headcanons💋

You hadn't had the chance to speak to either Ethan or Damiano, they had gotten home so late from their music video shoot and after a certain hour, it hadn't seemed worth staying up until they got back to the house. This wasn't the kind of revelation that should be shared after 1am, when they had been in a loud, energizing environment for an entire day. You would give them time to unwind from the sensory overload and maybe by the time you woke up, you would have the right thing to say.

You had deposited the 7 plastic devices into the bottom of the bathroom bin, immediately covering it with scrunched-up pieces of clean toilet paper, some cotton balls and a few strings of floss. Then you had climbed into the large bed on your own, falling asleep.

When you woke up, there was a second body in the bed. There were many mornings where you ignored the day beckoning and just curled in closer to Ethan. You would usually doze off again, content with your place in the world.

But you pushed back from this temptation and rolled away from your sleeping boyfriend. You got up, beginning the search for Damiano.

He was in the kitchen - you guessed he hadn't been awake for long, his hair was sticking up in all directions and he was preoccupied with buttering some toast. There was a smell of ginger thick in the air.

You took the opportunity to sneak up behind him, linking your arms around him and caressing his bare chest. He blew a kiss in your direction and you let your lips explore over his skin.

You didn't want to move, you didn't want to open your mouth yet. You wanted to commit this to memory, before everything changed.

"I missed you." You said.

"I missed you more. How's your tummy feeling? I've made you some ginger tea 'cause I know how that helps when you get your motion sickness on planes."

You pressed your forehead into his skin, not responding to his gesture to the steaming teapot. You tried to gather all of your courage.

"I have to tell you something…"

Something in your tone made him immediately alert and he turned around to face you. There was concern clear in his eyes as he studied your expression, pushing some hair back from your brow.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"You hate my new haircut, don't you?"

"No, why would I hate it? It's shorter but I still have something to tug on when needed. But it's not… this is not about your hair."

"The new tattoo." He said and you moved out of his embrace, sliding up onto the counter to sit out the rest of his guessings. "I've done it, I've finally found the one that's too far and you hate it."

You shook your head, prepared to tell him how much you enjoyed the minimalist design of a chair that had been permanently etched onto the skin of his thigh a month ago. He had worn the goofiest smile on his face as he presented it to you, proudly offering 'take a seat, ladies'. You and Ethan had laughed hysterically at that and it was agreed that this was the perfect tattoo for Damiano - summing up his dorky sense of humour.

"I should have listened to Vic when she said I didn't need another joke tattoo, but I-..."

"Dami, stop. It's not about your tattoo or anything on your body." You reached for his hands before he could spiral off into any other tangents. "It's me."

He stopped, staring straight into your eyes and you squeezed his hands. You took in a shaky breath, feeling like you could laugh or cry.

"I'm pregnant."

He seemed to be speechless, a feat you had never been able to pull off in the past five years of dating him. His mouth was hanging open, the gravity of the situation clearly not lost on him. He didn't look happy or upset, for the moment he was just overwhelmed by the revelation.

It was the first time you had said this fact aloud - you hadn't even typed it out in a message yet.

The assistant that you had sent to the pharmacy hadn't asked any questions about why you needed the tests. When they handed you the bag of goods, you had asked her to keep this between the two of you and she had mimed a zipper being pulled shut across her lips.

It was real for you now as well - you had breathed oxygen into it and now it could walk into reality. It was exhilarating, something brand new that the three of you had never really prepared for. 

"This is amazing." He said, coming toward you to smack an enthusiastic kiss onto your lips before throwing his arms around you. "I can't believe it. A baby. This is the best news ever." 

"Yeah, it's definitely big news."

"When did you find out?" He asked.

"Well, I realised that I was late last week but I didn't wanna freak out, 'cause I've never been the most regular. But then with all of the nausea I've had the past few days - I just kinda had a feeling, you know? So last night, I sent Gianna to the pharmacy and I made her buy seven, 'cause everyone says that you shouldn't one hundred percent trust those things. But every single one came back the same. So, last night, I found out last night." You said. "I didn't wanna say anything 'til I was more certain and then, I wasn't gonna just send it in the group chat."

"No, no, you're right on that." He said, still grinning widely. He caressed your cheek and brought you in for another kiss. "A baby, this is gonna be amazing. We're gonna be parents."

"You're not scared? We hadn't exactly planned for this. I mean, I know we figured it was an inevitability when we ditched rubbers and everything. But we hadn't really sat down and decided that we were gonna do it right now. And now here we are, we are going to be parents."

"Yeah, it's amazing, it's exciting. Don't be scared baby, you're gonna be an amazing mum."

"Every aspect of our lives is gonna change, we don't have anything that a baby needs. There's a frickin' stripper pole in our lounge room." You said.

"Hey, that is a piece of exercise equipment. It's only a stripper pole when someone is stripping on it."

"Which you did two nights ago…"

He smiled, looking away for a wistful moment. "Oh yeah. What can I say? You guys were feeding me rosé, you know how slutty pink wine makes me.

"But listen to me, we've been through a lot of changes together…" He said, taking both of your hands in his. "We've been broke nobodies together, we've been at ridiculous, unimaginable heights together, we bought a house together - all these things that seemed so impossible and then we just fuckin' did 'em. So this- this is just the next adventure for the three of us.

"And no matter what changes, there's one thing that will always be the same and that's how I feel for you." He kissed the backs of your hands one after the other, his thumbs caressing over your knuckles. "I love you, I love you so fuckin' much and I wanna do this with you.  

"We can make an incredible family. Don't you think so?"

You nodded, smiling as excited butterflies swarmed your stomach. "Yeah, so we're gonna be parents. That's, like, so grown up. Are we adult enough for that?"

He shrugged. "Sure, we can be."

"A baby." You said, your voice getting thicker as you felt tears prickling at your eyes.

He put his arms around you and you kissed him, feeling your happiness overflowing. You wanted to stay like this forever - it was a rush similar to when you had first fallen in love with him and Ethan, daunting yet invigorating.

"Oh my God." You said, your mind racing as the smile on your face only got bigger.

"Oh my God." Damiano repeated.

"No, oh my God."

"What are you two Valley Girls omg-ing about?" Ethan asked, coming down the stairs, looking slightly perturbed to be out of bed. "Is that ginger tea?"

Damiano sniffed, blinking rapidly and clearing his throat before speaking. "Yes love, let me get you some…"

"Good morning hun." Ethan came towards where you sat on the bench. Before giving you a typical greeting kiss, he furrowed his brow and took a longer look at you. "Why do you look like you're about to cry? Is something wrong?"

"No, no, not at all." You dabbed beneath your eyes, sniffing back the threatening tears.

"Here you go, my love." Damiano held out a steaming mug, keeping his head low and sniffing again.

Instead of taking the drink, Ethan grabbed Damiano's chin and pushed it back, forcing the other man to look him in the eye. "Hang on, why are you crying? What did I miss?"

You met Damiano's eye and saw how he was ready to burst. You drew in a shaky breath and turned to Ethan, reaching for his hand.

"Baby, hi baby."

"Hi honey." He said, giving you a critical look.

"I have something to tell you." You grabbed his hand and squeezed it, trying to steady yourself. "I'm pregnant."

His mouth fell open and the scowl immediately disappeared from his face. He didn't say anything, instead he backed up a step and then crouched down, both hands going over his mouth. He looked up at you and you could see tears already brimming there. This was enough to stop you from holding back and you began to cry freely.

"We're having a baby?" He asked, his voice quiet.

You nodded, laughing through your tears. "Yes, we're gonna have a baby."

His eyes were incredibly wide as he looked over to Damiano. "A baby?"

"You're gonna be a dad."

"We're gonna be dads?"

Damiano laughed as well and stooped down beside Ethan, planting his hands on his shoulders to give him a playful jostle. "We're gonna be dads."

Ethan grabbed Damiano and pulled him into an embrace that ended with the two of them landing on the ground. They remained holding one another - the sounds of laughter and some blasphemous phrases.

You put your hands to your head, overwhelmed and unsure of what to do with your emotions.

"I don't know how to be a dad." Ethan said, sitting up.

"Oh, who does?" Damiano gave a dismissive flap of his hands. "You didn't know how to win Eurovision, but you did that, didn't you?"

"This is quite different from that, Dami. Not a fitting comparison, oh at all."

"It's okay baby, I'm scared too." You told Ethan as you looked around you for something to dry your eyes with. "Ugh, where are the tissues?" You slid down from the bench and navigated around your boyfriends on the ground, making your way into the lounge room.

"We should order books, right? Lots and lots and lots of books, not just about pregnancy but about raising kids and- hang on, I should get my phone and get onto Amazon…" Ethan's voice followed after you.

You spun around and grabbed his hand before he could disappear. He allowed you to link your fingers with his and he gave a little nod before being led into the lounge room with you.

You collected the box of tissues on your way to the couch. You sat down, finding a pillow to squeeze while he sat down to face you.

"Are you okay?" You asked, pushing his hair back from his face with some gentle strokes. "You look a little… I mean, you're happy, right?"

"What? Of course I'm happy, of course I am. But it's…" He took a second, looking down and inhaling to fill his lungs. "This is the biggest thing that's ever happened to me, to us. And I don't… I don't really know what to think.

"But I'm happy." He said, placing his hand on your knee. "I'm so happy. I've wanted a family for… well, for as long as I can remember." Damiano had come into the room, handing the cup of tea to Ethan. "But we haven't planned anything. Being parents isn't the same as picking cool names or letting Vic buy us cute kids clothes that she comes across online. It's… it's a lot."

"You two need to stress less." Damiano said as he sat down in Ethan's lap. "What do I always tell you?"

You looked at Ethan and the two of you shared a shrug. "I love you? Aw, yeah, you do say that to us a lot." You reached out to stroke Damiano's cheek, smiling sweetly. "I love you too Daddy."

"No."

"Nicki Minaj was right about Miley Cyrus?" Ethan guessed. "I feel like you're always waiting for an excuse to bring that up."

"Yes, but no." Damiano said. "I am always telling you that we can do it, no matter what it is. We come up to an obstacle and we figure out together how to overcome it. We're the power of three, dammit and this is just our next chapter, our next thing to learn from, just like we've learnt from every single thing before this."

Ethan raised his eyebrows, taking a sip of tea while you nodded. "Right, well that was a good pep talk. I think I'm inspired."

"I am definitely pepped." Ethan said sarcastically. "So, did you go to the doctor yesterday or was it one of those at-home kits?"

"At-home."

"But don't worry about it being a false-positive babe, she did seven of them." Damiano said.

"Seven?" Ethan repeated, looking at you in disbelief. That sounds, uh, a little excessive…"

"Right, well peeing on a plastic stick was just too much fucking fun. I simply couldn't stop at one." You said, making both of them laugh.

There were more tears sparkling in Damiano's eyes as he put an arm around Ethan, kissing him on the forehead. "We're having a baby." He smiled, shutting his eyes, so utterly happy.

You put your hands over your face, letting all of the excitement, the nerves, the apprehension, the surprise, the joy, the optimism - you let it all in and marinate together, changing your reality. The tears sprang forth again and you were brought into an embrace of four arms.

"Who do we call first?" Ethan asked.

.........

The nine week mark - it wasn't the first time the three of you had piled into the office of your newly obtained obstetrician but it felt like the most important visit to the doctor.

Today you were getting the results of the prenatal paternity test. You sat in the middle, holding Ethan's hand. On your other side was Damiano, picking at his black nail polish.

"Our tests were able to confirm that the father is Mr Torchio."

Damiano cheered while Ethan's hand locked on to yours in a death-grip. You rested your head on his shoulder, reaching your free hand out to Damiano.

"A little baby Ethan. This is gonna be the first baby to do shampoo commercials in the uterus." Damiano said.

Ethan reached a hand up to whack him across the back of the head. "Idiota."

The doctor proceeded, she was getting used to this bizarre dynamic and didn't flinch as much when they took off on sudden tangents. "All the other tests came back looking great, nothing abnormal or that would cause any kind of concern. And right now, your baby is about the size of a cherry."

"A cherry, one single little cherry." Damiano said, holding his fingers apart in a pinching motion, less than an inch of space there. "That's tiny."

"Yes, it's still early days." She said. "How is your fatigue?"

"I've been really tired, like, all of the time. I've been doing less-and-less, but I'm lucky that I've got two partners to do all the shit I don't have the energy for anymore, otherwise I'd be sitting here in dirty sweatpants."

"Yes, I think you've got a great setup here. I don't see anything getting past all three of you."

.........

You sat on the kitchen stool, staring directly at the fridge opposite you. The house was filled with the usual 3am serene silence and the 38-week-old fetus was your only company. 

Your whole body felt so heavy, especially your head, which was so full of thoughts. You had laid in bed for about 4 hours, waiting for sleep to come. But it hadn't, no matter what position you tried to lay in, there was absolutely no escaping the discomfort.

Your body was no longer your own and your patience for all of this had worn out. You had spent so long with this all-encompassing change wreaking havoc through your body and you just wanted it over. You were greatly looking forward to thinking about something other than being pregnant.

Damiano found you sitting motionless in the kitchen - alongside you was a mug that only held a completely dry teabag. He got your attention with a gentle stroke down your back before kissing your cheek as he came to stand next to you.

"What are you doing awake?" He asked. "Not only are you supposed to be getting as much sleep as possible, but it's almost 3.30 in the morning - that's the witching hour, when all the supernatural shit kicks off."

"Maybe I'll be visited by the ghost of my old waistline." You joked without committing to a smile. "I was just thinkin', thinkin' too much and I came down here to make some tea. But I got distracted…" You gestured to the fridge, its doors decorated with magnetic Scrabble tiles. "He needs a name Dami. He's about to be born and we're still just focusing on the pregnancy. I wanna be able to look at him and know him… and know that I'm meant to be his mum." 

"You are gonna know him, you already know what food he doesn't like and you know what music he likes. He's gonna come out of the womb knowing your voice and you're gonna know him and what he needs and how to take care of him best. He's lucky to have you as his mama."

You just nodded, it wasn't the first time one of your boyfriends had been forced to give you a pep talk like this. Their words helped but it was only ever a temporary fix, the insecurities always came crawling back. You hoped that once your son was actually in your arms, you wouldn't wonder anymore, you would be certain that motherhood was the right fit for you.

Damiano kissed your forehead a few more times before going over to stand directly in front of the fridge, considering the words that were spelt out on the metal surface - next to a photo of the baby from the most recent ultrasound.

"We've got it narrowed down to the top 3 - that’s not too bad.” He said. “And you know what we haven’t tried?” You sighed, propping your head up on your fist. “We haven’t asked him. Is he awake?”

"I think so. He's been rolling around a bit in there, trying to figure out the best way to lay in there- is it directly on my bladder or with his feet getting under my rib cage?"

You put your hand down to the side of your belly and felt the flutter of a response from your unborn son. You looked up to give Damiano a nod.

"Okay, help us out here little dude." He said, beginning at the top of the list. "Is your name Sergio?"

You felt another flutter against your belly, the baby reacting to the sound of Damiano's voice. You made a seesawing gesture with your hand.

"Okay, okay, maybe he's Sergio. But maybe he's actually- Cosmo."

You felt a jolt as the baby kicked you. This time you smiled at Damiano, feeling your eyes grow wide. "I think he's more a Cosmo, than a Sergio."

"Okay, okay, let's see if this'll be the big finish. Are you Leandro?"

You just blinked at him. "Nothing, not even a twitch."

"Well, this seems pretty clear." He said and he rearranged the 3 names on the fridge door. He put Cosmo at the top.

He strolled back over to stand beside you and silently, you considered this. Cosmo had come from Ethan's list of names. Unlike the majority of the other possible names - this wasn't linked to anyone of significance. It was a unique name of an individual who would set their own legacy.

Damiano put an arm around your shoulders. "So obviously you like the name, otherwise it wouldn't still be up on the fridge, right? 'Cause if you aren't totally sold on it…" He lowered his voice to a theatrical whisper. "Baby boy doesn't need to know that it was ever an option. It's not like he has eyes to see it up there."

"I definitely like it." You said. "We could call him Cozzie or Moe for short."

"That's adorable."

You turned to him, putting your hand on his chest to bring his attention to you. "Do you like it? I know that none of your names made it to the fridge…" There had been a maximum of 5 vetoes given to each of you to strike down the names you didn't want your child to have - any names that survived this round had gone up onto the fridge where you could mull them over, waiting for the moment of clarity.

"Yeah, I do like it, I think it's cute, it's quirky, it's memorable." He said. "If I didn't want my son named that, it would not still be up on the fridge."

You smiled, leaning against him. "I like it when you call him your son, 'cause that's-"

"Well, that's what he is."

"-what he is. Exactly." You said and you lifted yourself up briefly to kiss him. "I need you to know that I don't give a shit what science says or what anybody in our families says or what trolls online say or any of that noise - this baby is gonna have your DNA.

"He's gonna have your charisma, your kindness, your drive and determination, your energy, your fighting spirit, your fearlessness and your terrible, awful, dorky sense of humour." 

You saw a twinkle in his eye before he stroked your cheek and pulled you in for another kiss. He rested his forehead against yours and you could see that he was smiling as you took a moment of quiet together.

"But when people are talking about this incredible boy, what will they call him?" He asked you.

Then he crouched down in front of you, his attention coming to your pregnant belly. He lifted up the hem of your oversized tee, looking at the stretched skin there.

"Hey little dude, it's your papa - yeah, that's right, the loud one." He said to your belly, making you laugh. He put his hand on the front of your belly and there was the flutter of movement of the baby responding to his touch, just a little flicker of acknowledgement. 

"I hate to interrupt you, 'cause I know how busy you are, what with all that growing you're doing. But we would really like to know your name." The baby didn't have much of a reaction to Damiano's other hand coming to rest on your tummy. "No pressure here, we don't have a tattoo appointment booked in to get this name put on us tomorrow. But maybe you could shed some light…

"Is your name Cosmo?"

The response was instant, the little boy whirling around in the womb. Then there was the jolt of him kicking - not once, but in a little pattern.

Damiano looked up at you, his face glowing with an excited smile. "That seems pretty conclusive to me…"

"Yeah. I'd say that he's happy with it."

"That's a definite reaction. There have been times when you've rushed me over and you're really excited and you go, quick, quick, ya gotta feel this, he's moving, he's moving, feel it. And I go over and I nod and get excited with you, but I don't feel anything, literally anything." He said and your mouth fell open in surprise. "Not all the time, but it's happened more than once."

"Are you serious? Why didn't you ever say anything to me?"

"I didn't wanna rain on your parade, but that's not the point…" He said and you rolled your eyes. "The point is - I definitely fucking felt that, I felt that he's moving. I felt him confirming that his name is Cosmo."

You smiled, pushing a hand through his hair. "Cosmo - he has a name."

"We finally did it." He said. "Ethan will be thrilled, I'm sure.”

"Help me up, I gotta pee, again."

.........

"I can't stop looking at him 'cause I just can't believe how perfect he is." Victoria said, sitting in front of the bassinet. There was a dreamy look in her eyes and she hadn't stopped smiling since coming into the house.

"He kinda looks like he's got his brow furrowed, like he's deep in thought about something serious." Thomas said. "He's already just like his dad."

Ethan didn't have any response to this and when you looked around, you found his eyes were shut as he sat perfectly still on the couch.

"Thank God, he has not been sleeping. I've literally lost count of all the times I've woken up to see him just sitting at the baby's side - hand on Cosmo's chest to check that he's breathing." You said.

"Yeah, he's the intense one." Thomas said with a shrug. "I thought you would've figured that out by now…"

Damiano returned to the nursery, a pitcher of iced tea in hand. He started to fill up the cups, handing them out. When he got to Ethan, he just placed the glass on the end table closest to your boyfriend.

"You should tell Ethan that he doesn't need to worry so much 'cause this baby is the most perfect thing in the whole world." Victoria said.

"He really is.” Thomas said. “I don’t get it, but right now, looking at him, I am just so happy. I feel good and everything makes sense. I’m looking at him and I know that everything is gonna work out just fine. Congrats on the perfect baby, you guys."

"Do you wanna hold him?" Damiano offered to the two visitors sitting on the floor.

"Oh, I don’t wanna get my cigarette smell all over him.”

Victoria’s arm shot into the air. “I’ll hold him.”

You moved closer to Ethan on the couch - with all three of them hovering over Cosmo, you felt safe enough to shut your eyes. You could take your eyes off the ball and relax. You put your head onto Ethan’s shoulder, immediately soothed by his body warmth, ready to cuddle with him for hours.

“He’s so tiny, what the Hell?” 

“I know, it’s amazing, I could fit him in my handbag.” Victoria said. “No, I’m serious - Tom, get my bag, it’s over there in the corner.”

“Cute, very cute.” Damiano said sarcastically.

You opened your eyes and looked across to where the three adults were sitting in something of a half-circle, their heads bowed close together as they all marvelled over the baby. Thomas had picked up a toy, he wiggled the colourful beetle in the air.

“Hi baby Cozzie, hi. Can you say Aunty Victoria?" She repeated the phrase, drawing the syllables out further.

"Five days old." Damiano said. "He is five days old Vic. Look, how about we see if he can say this word- delusional?"

Thomas now had a red dinosaur in hand, wiggling it about for Cosmo's attention over Victoria's shoulder.

"You need to give him more credit, for all you know, he's got a galaxy brain." Victoria said. "Can you say Vic?"

You shut your eyes again, a smile on your face. In his sleep, Ethan shifted and put his arm around you, a muscle-memory. You settled in, easily finding comfort.

"Can you say never gonna happen?"

➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵

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[nutty1005]

The new and starstudded “A Dream Like A Dream”, is the starting point, not the ending point, of Xiao Zhans

Original Article: https://m.thepaper.cn/newsDetail_forward_12542131 Original Author: 程辉剧场手记 The author published this in Pengpai News and shared on his Weibo Post on 6 May 2021.

Andante Cantabile, my most beloved music by Tchaikovsky, came from his String Quartet No. 1 in D major, every time it would painfully touch my heart, poet Xi Murong also used this to caption a melancholic poem. I thought, using it to sum up Lai Shengchuan’s representative work, “A Dream Like A Dream”, would be most apt.

“A Dream Like A Dream” lasts for 8 hours, this is something rare in Chinese theaters. Using the doctor as the first person, Patient No. 5 recalled and narrated in his narration, a surreal stage arrangement, emotions, life, fate, culture and societal upheaval, bringing tears to fog up your eyes. After 9 years of continued changes in the crew, Yanghua Theater brought in a new version with actors such as Xu Qing, Feng Xianzhen, Ge Xinyi, Xiao Zhan, Yan Nan, Zhang Liang, Huang Lu, Kong Wei, etc. The new version rivaled the quality of its predecessors, but yet bestowed a new presentation and expression.

A unique city was the backdrop for its first showing and the chance fate of the characters within the play allowed us to truly understand the nature of impermanence. In the play, there was an important term called “self-exchange”, which was said to come from an ancient practice from South Asia, by “breathing” with the others, so as to gift health and happiness, and remove his pain and misfortune. “A Dream Like A Dream” was a play that spoke of the search for the meaning of life, did it also deliberately “self-exchange” with the audience then? Once we understood the concept of “self-exchange”, we could also see that it was also a request to communicate with the reserved hearts of the contemporary person.

The fates of Gu Xianglan and Patient No. 5 were the two main timelines in “A Dream Like A Dream”, and the other timelines served to supplement or trigger the former. Patient No. 5’s motive came from “searching”, Gu Xianglan’s came from “chasing”. The chaser is the key to enlightening the searcher, the searcher became the resolution for the chaser, although they had different obsessions in their lives, they both came together in the end. Gu Xianglan’s deathbed confession to Patient No. 5 was not simply just an apology in her dazed state, but also her most unforgettable, wonderful and romantic memories of love; Patient No. 5, with his concern, consideration and inquiries, was like the listener from heaven, the guiding light to aid the soul in letting go of her regrets.

The 2021 Yanghua version of “A Dream Like A Dream” maintained its previous feature of multiple actors to one role, and multiple roles to one actor. Xu Qing, Feng Xianzhen, Ge Xinyi acted as after going abroad, old age and before going abroad versions of Gu Xianglan respectively. From the “peerless beauty” socialite of the brothels in Shanghai Beach, to the Baroness of a French Ambassador, to an artist, then to a maid, a sweeper of roads and alleys, to the lonely elderly in the hospital, she went through indescribable ups and downs.

Xu Qing had acted as Gu Xianglan since the play’s debut, and in the new version, her portrayal had already been exquisitely refined, the Gu Xianglan in her prime is lovely and graceful, but yet proud and wild, sensitive and emotional, as though Gu Xianglan’s soul had fully occupied her body. In addition to the true to form portrayal of the amorous nature of Gu Xianglan, her performance was exceptionally focused on the details of the silent scenes. When she and Xiao Zhan’s Patient No. 5 gazed at each other, when teary eyes met with clear eyes; from afar it seemed like she was looking at her younger self about to go onto a journey of no return, the resigned helplessness and the restless hope looked at each other; when realizing that the lost Baron had once returned, her astonished and sharp glares of anger; when Wang Debao found the tiny loft she stayed in by chance, her stealing glances were surprised and flustered… They were all full of the character’s aura and emotional tension, and the pain took the audiences by their hearts.

Senior actress Feng Xianzhen’s portrayal of the elderly version of Gu Xianglan was quite different from the version by the previous actress Lu Yan, which allowed the audiences to experience the wonder of plays due to different characterization. Lu Yan’s version was one that remained elegant and proud despite her tribulations, there was more calm and temperance, which would make the audiences respect the tenacity of this legendary lady. Feng Xianzhen’s version was a Gu Xianglan who went to France from Shanghai, and back to Shanghai from France, twice she found freedom and twice she fell. The cruelty of fate had ripped away all of the pretentiousness, the charm of her past had been lost, she was like every ordinary person. She would scheme cigarettes from strangers, curse as she liked with phrases such as “bastard”, “no good-doers in Taiwan”, mock those relatives who came to look after her as those who came for their inheritance. She fully portrayed the effects of her unfortunate life and her bitterness at the world, which made the audiences sigh in sadness.

Facing these two powerful actresses in portraying the same role, Ge Xinyi as the young Gu Xianglan, had a lot of pressure. Her performance was more inclined to a lonely beauty, the purity despite her circumstances, so as to provide a solid motive for the Baron and Wang Debao’s unrestrained infatuation. As a newcomer to the theater, her steady control was not an easy task, and should be praised for it. If she would be more open, layered and flavorful in her portrayal, the characterization would be better. After all, Gu Xianglan was the top courtesan within the midst of love and affairs, and the quiet and calm of a learned lady would be quite different from that.

Patient No. 5 was a journeyman of life. In the beginning, he suffered painful setbacks from the death of his child and the loss of his wife, and started a self-exiled wanderlust. His marriage came by mistake, almost like a replacement for his wife’s frustrating relationship. Fate caused him to lose his spirit, but he was unwilling to give up, hence he wanted to search for his wife, as though he wanted to search for himself. His encounter with Jiang Hong, was the wanderers’ sympathy for each other and to rely on each other. Only when he walked into the French castle and saw the tranquil and woeful eyes of Gu Xianglan, he seemed to see himself at the far coast of the lake, the cumulative rage and sorrow in both their hearts, their collective unwillingness to concede suddenly exploded, and he decisively dropped everything to find the lady in the painting. He did not know what question was ignited then, but he started his search for the dream of life.

In terms of the control of this character, Xiao Zhan and Yan Nan definitely put in a lot of efforts, they were highly immersive. What was even more rare was that, although their performances had different focuses, but they were both very united in terms of aura, body language, speech, pace and habitual actions, as though the two actors in the same stage were truly one character. For such a complete creation, you need not only tacit understanding.

Xiao Zhan’s performance exceeded my expectations. Despite it being his debut in a play, his performance was not even the least bit disjointed, and he was even able to merge his own personality characteristics with the role itself. His actions, pace and emotions gave a smooth interplay between tension and relaxation. The portrayal of innocent, naive, youthful, kind and fragile Patient No. 5, his unpreparedness in matters of love, was especially suitable as a youth who just joined society. It made the random encounter in the cinemas as the prelude of love more believable, and also gave a firm foundation to his actions later on, the multiple setbacks in later on, his wanderings, and his endless searching. With his wife and Jiang Hong, he had different relationships, the former was a budding first love, the latter came from empathy, Xiao Zhan had slightly different portrayal for the different phases of space and time, the cycle from simple to confusion, from searching to questioning, there was careful understanding and detailed handling. After discovering Gu Xianglan’s tracks, the clear longing that Xiao Zhan gave off collided with the layered longing from Xu Qing after her tribulations, was like the undercurrents under a calm lake, it drew in the rousing emotions, and became the strong force that pushed the story forward.

Xiao Zhan has the ability and the reason to achieve much better results in future theater stages. With time, if he could become even more at ease with the control of his body, if he could be even more accurate during the changes of character condition, I trust that he could achieve another breakthrough, and create even more challenging characters.

Reprising Patient No. 5 after many years, Yan Nan was obviously even more in-depth with his understanding of the script and character, and gifted the character a melancholy aura similar to those of an ancient poet, the quiet tones and deep glances became the key feature. The sense of accumulation of the vicissitudes, merged with Xiao Zhan’s portrayal, realized the continuation of the character’s fate. His performance on the hospital bed contrasted with Gu Xianglan on her hospital bed in a different time, and manifested Patient No. 5’s enlightenment after his miles of wandering, the person on the bed is awake, but those not were instead still dreaming. His calmness held the strings of every timeline together.

Zhang Liang’s portrayal of the Baron was the surprise of the show. If the old version’s Baron and Gu Xianglan was like the contest between eagle and the wild pigeon, the huge difference in power created the tragedy that made the audiences sad. The 2021 Yanghua version’s Baron and Gu Xianglan was like a pair of heavenly cranes, but they sang different notes as they flew to each other, and became a pair of lovebirds who hurt each other as they fell. The Baron became more romantic, more gentle and loving, but he remained prideful as he was still a noble beneath that amicable exterior, this was Zhang Liang’s new expression to the character, this also elevated Gu Xianglan’s difficulty in her choice, and even more so contrasted Gu Xianglan’s “evil” in her woeful revenge, and also left a branching point to the remaining love. His love for Gu Xianglan was true, it was not possession, but he loved the Oriental beauty, the caged Gu Xianglan, not the wild and free Gu Xianglan. Letting go and abandoning was his hopelessness for his lover, he felt that Gu Xianglan was letting herself go, she was betraying and depraving her beauty, he felt that his efforts were painfully wasted, it was not an attack on an escaped prey. This kind of portrayal made us wonder – love, was it to love a person, or was it to love an ideal? Love was to give or to receive? Was the ultimate goal of giving receiving?

The tragedy between Baron and Gu Xianglan became a tragedy of conflict between culture, social status and ideals. The difference between Baron and Gu Xianglan, did not merely exist on levels of culture and artistic ideals, but it was down to different life goals due to different cultural influences. It was hard for Baron to understand that his love only moved Gu Xianglan from a smaller cage to another bigger cage, even if he loved her deeply; Gu Xianglan who struggled for survival in a twisted environment, simply wanted to escape her cage, even if it meant poverty. This type of tragedy could not simply be explained with the character’s personality. The energy from repeated characterization is evident.

Huang Lu as Jiang Hong was a character that was rather difficult to grasp in “A Dream Like A Dream”. In her portrayal, Jiang Hong was an ordinary girl, who went through multiple troubles but was always chosen, besides her strong sense of survival, I almost could not see more personality. I remembered that I had brief flashes of a parallel universe while cooking eggs one morning, that was the state that she could not find herself or her position in life. She claimed herself as “the original Jiang Hong was dead, the Jiang Hong who arrived in Paris never existed” wanderer, her “relationship” with Patient No. 5 was merely a chance encounter in life, both of them were scared and questioning whether they should “fall into another relationship”. Huang Lu’s performance was very restrained, controlled, and tried hard to make herself not stand out, to do it to this extent was quite difficult. When she was talking about her stowaway escape, there was a point for emotional explosion, but yet she had to control it within the fine line between “surviving the calamity” and “unable to calm herself”. For this actress who was nominated multiple times for international awards and also won a national acting award, this was a rare stage experience.

Kong Wei, who just took off her costume in “Thunder Rain”, portrayed Shi Li Hong, the Mama-san of “Fairy Court”, in “A Dream Like A Dream”. Scheming and cunning in worldly matters, but yet she maintained her own sense of righteousness with Gu Xianglan and her sisters, fleshed out the character with even more emotions. Especially when the drunk professor professed his love for her, her teasing and forced calmness was mixed with surprise and shyness, as every emotion came at the same time, she managed them with ease, not only was the set brightly colored, there was also the sudden exposure of the character’s personality. Wang Peiyu who acted as the young Wang Debao, also showed the character’s clumsiness and stubbornness, his portrayal of passionate love was on point, which was just as brilliant.

There were many characters in “A Dream Like A Dream”, the group’s shared brilliance could not be forgotten, many actors who acted as multiple roles displayed exceeding energy. This came down to the Yanghua creativity production team, lead by Art Director Wang Keran, who had astute senses in actor selection as well as careful detailing in every part of the creation.

Luo Yongjuan, who portrayed a puppet in “Jewish City” and Li Zonglei, who had many important roles in many dramas and plays, both portrayed over 10 characters, and outstandingly completed the character creation for all of these different roles. Ruan Li, who portrayed the cousin, the dancer, the child, etc, also contributed multiple talents. Wang Weiqian, who portrayed Aunt Jin, the tourist, etc; Sun Zhongyi, who portrayed the professor, the old servant, etc, they all left deep impressions.

To display the characters but not to display themselves, this was the forefront of all theater actors, this was done by Xu Qing and Xiao Zhan, Zhang Liang and other stars, this was the respect they gave the play, the stage, the audience and themselves.

When the first kissing scene appeared for Xiao Zhan, part of the audiences were controlled but there were still some excessive “fan” reactions, but this did not interrupt his performance pace, this reminded me that Xu Qing and Hu Ge version also had the same situation many years ago. We could see that the actors were immersed, they prepared mental homework for every segment and detail, this was the hard work and the goal of both the production and the actors. Putting in efforts into acting and solely seeking the effects of celebrity, these are two totally different things after all.

When rehearsing or refreshing old classic plays, most of the time, methods such as subversion, recreation or simple replay were used. 2021 Yanghua’s version of “A Dream Like A Dream” is a case of production relying on the new cast to continuously discover deeper understandings, to recreate, and then to give audience a new icing on the cake while ensuring the quality of the play.

I was interviewed after the debut showing and said that this play was the Xiao Zhan’s starting point and not his ending point, and I also hoped that more capable actors would come to the theater stage, focus on the creation of art, and from that we could forge our own generation of quality “full celebrities”, such as Jin Shan, Shi Hui, Bai Yang, Zhang Ruifang, Shu Xiuwen, Laurence Olivier, Marlon Brando, Vivien Leigh, etc, of China. On the international theatrical stage, this is just commonplace.

[cyberp-ssy2077]

Cyberparents 2077: A Day in the Life // Part One: Morning (Johnny Silverhand x Female!V)

A/N: Currently three parts to this story are planned: Morning, Afternoon, and Evening. This was inspired by my friend saying that Johnny and my V looked like "those punk parents," and I couldn't resist writing this fluffy/domestic/modern AU as a result. I'm so sorry, LMAO~

Link to AO3!

Plenty of normal people with normal lives wake up to an alarm. If you’re old fashioned, or if maybe you’ve just held onto one you really like, you use an actual alarm clock. Most people nowadays just set an alarm on their phone. V’s wakeup call this morning came in the form of a wild, merciless monster in the shape of her adorable 6-year-old daughter. Thus, V’s alarm clock was high-pitched giggles and tiny pokes to her face that roused her into consciousness, as she slowly became aware of her surroundings.

“Five more minutes,” V mumbled into her pillow, not willing to open her eyes quite yet. Opening her eyes was a sign of weakness and would ensure her defeat, she knew from experience.

“Mommy, you told me to wake you up when I finished my show,” a voice lisped, with an impatient edge to it. In her mind’s eye, V could picture little hands on little hips, head cocked to the side. Her daughter had such an attitude, but with her parentage, it was little wonder where she got it from.

Conceding defeat, V sighed dramatically and prepared to sit up, but was stopped by the vice-like grip of a well-toned arm snaked around her waist. Ah yes, the drama king himself, V thought wryly. Said arm, belonging to said drama king, pulled her back into a warm body that curled itself around hers.

“Why don’t you go wait for us in the kitchen, princess?” a voice rumbled from behind V. Eyes now open, V watched as their little girl tossed her thick black hair over her shoulder, rolled her eyes, and stomped out of the room with a huff.

“You know, I blame you for that,” V teased, twisting around in her husband’s grasp. “You spoil her too much.”

Johnny was staring up at the ceiling, silently but emphatically mouthing what seemed like every last curse word he knew. Needless to say, it took a moment. V giggled at his antics, a common enough occurrence once they decided they had to institute a moratorium on cursing while in the same building as their impressionable, headstrong, and precocious offspring.

Undeterred and amused, V kept going, poking at Johnny’s stomach and sides. “Hey, she was your idea, remember? Come on V, think about it, let me put a baby in you-”

V’s teasing cut off into uncontrollable giggles and shrieks as Johnny overpowered her, pinning her wrists on either side of her head and burying his face in her neck. His facial hair scraped satisfyingly over her skin as he teased her, wedging one of his legs between hers.

“Keep talking like that and I’ll put another one in you right now,” Johnny growled flirtatiously, all parts of his anatomy significantly more awake than they were a few moments ago. V laughed, but knew he was only half-joking. For all of their teasing, they adored their child and wanted another.

“Not so fast mister, we already have one irate little beast downstairs in the kitchen waiting to be fed, in case you’ve forgotten,” V stated matter-of-factly, sliding out from under her husband’s embrace.

“V! Babe, come on, just a quickie,” Johnny whined, giving her his best puppy dog eyes as he half-heartedly tried to drag her back to bed. V kissed the hand that was still holding onto her wrist and broke contact, laughing as she walked out the door.

“Later, Johnny! Take a shower,” V said mockingly. She could hear a thud and some grumbling as she made her way down the stairs. Shaking her head in amusement, V rounded the corner into the kitchen where she was met by a full stack of ingredients arranged neatly on the counter. The curator of the collection stood to the side, arms crossed.

“You were taking too long and I want pancakes, so I helped you,” she declared imperiously.

“Oh, I see,” V responded with mock seriousness. “I’ll have to consider this deal… Can you ask me nicely for pancakes?”

V was rewarded with a toothy grin and the cutest “please” she’s ever heard, and her daughter was rewarded with pancakes. While V was firing up the coffee maker, the third member of their household tramped noisily downstairs.

“Do I smell pancakes?” Johnny asked as he entered the room, immediately making a beeline for the counter next to V. For her part, V held her ground with a smirk, blocking Johnny’s access with her body.

“I don’t know, what’s the magic word?” V asked smugly, not able to resist teasing her husband at any opportunity.

Johnny scowled. “Oh, come on, really?”

“Daddy, it’s ‘please,’” their daughter stage-whispered through a mouthful of pancakes. Johnny smiled at his daughter and winked, not able to resist her charm.

“Thanks, princess. Please may I have some pancakes, my darling wife?” V gave Johnny a toothy grin, knowing that if their daughter weren't present, "my darling wife" would've been substituted for something much different.

“Hmmm, well since you asked nicely, I guess you can,” V said coyly, sliding out of the way and grabbing plates for the two of them. “Sam, are you almost done?”

The controversy over the naming of Samantha Keiko Silverhand was, even six years later, absolutely legendary. Johnny had been fighting tooth and nail to get Samurai into their child’s name somehow and V was dead set against it, not wanting their child to live with the ghost of her father’s past in her face for the rest of her life. They compromised, and Johnny got to include “Sam” in their child’s name, while V got to pick the middle name and the godparents; not that Johnny had any objections to either. Yes, it was completely fair.

“Yep, I’m done now,” Sam answered cheerfully, hopping down from her chair and bringing her plate to the sink.

“Make sure you go get dressed, mkay? I’ll come up in a little bit to make sure we have everything you need for today.”

“Okay!” Little footsteps pattered up the stairs, and V and Johnny were alone.

They consumed their breakfast in relative silence, each adult mulling over their checklist of responsibilities for the day, occasionally conferring with one another to coordinate details.

“If you drop off Sam with Misty, you can pick up Jackie at the same time and head to Relics from there,” V proposed. Despite its name, the little dive bar Johnny had built up was nothing fancy; and that was how he liked it. Reminded him of his roots, something like that. The thing that set it apart was how much Johnny had invested in it as a performance venue, his standards nothing less than kick-ass. It definitely paid off, and the bar was bringing in a tidy sum to support the family of three.

“Jackie can drive himself, doubt he’d want to ride with me now that he’s got that bike,” Johnny shook his head. “‘Sides, I think I wanna take my bike too. How long do you have before Wilson is expecting you?”

V glanced at the clock on the stove. “I have a couple hours. I can take Sam with me when I run to the grocery store and drop her off on my way back, and still be on time.”

“Guy’s a hack, I don’t know why you still bother giving him a hand,” Johnny commented irritably, rolling his eyes. Johnny’s opinion of Wilson was not a new topic of conversation.

“You sure don’t mind when I bring home an extra paycheck, and unlimited access to the range,” V replied cheekily. “You know I prefer the work I can do at there to anything else I could be doing, ‘specially now that Sam’s going to school.” V loved Relics, but it was Johnny’s passion project, not hers.

“It’s the weekend,” Johnny needled. “You’re still sticking around after dinner tonight, right?”

V rolled her eyes, “Of course, you know I wouldn’t miss it.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Johnny smiled crookedly. “So, recap, you drop off Sammie at Misty’s, Misty’ll make sure that the girls get to the dojo, and then to Relics at around 5. You have your thing at Wilson’s until about 6, at which point you’ll meet up with us at Relics and we’ll head to dinner. Then Misty’ll take the kiddos back to her place for a sleepover, and we can enjoy some ‘adult time.’ Did I get all that right?”

“Sounds solid to me,” V replied, smiling back at him and clinking her coffee cup against his.

Part Two

[redmaneroster]

Our Home Away From Home, Away From Home

[1] [2] [3] [4-5] [6] [x] [8-9] [10]

PART 7 – Crustacean

They've been awake for at least an hour now, staring at the ceiling. It's dark all over, breached by apertures on the steel portal door of their room but the slits of light only cut into a broken ceiling fan and Yang's fingernail next to Jaune's ear.

Penny's voice comes muffled through the thick ceiling. Ruby's high-pitched cheers like distant whispers next to the megaphone voice of their android friend. They're all on a boat house for the sea and it's clear the girls are having a blast trying to steer the thing.

"They're having fun," Jaune says. He means nothing by it. Just an observation. Pointless conversation through the sleepy haze of a rocking ship. Jaune would have gotten sick were he not on a stable bed. He has pills for the motion sickness but they won't last him the entire trip. Sleep is the only way he can ration them.

Yang shifts over his arm and raises her hand, letting the light catch her nail again. It glistens like a solitary star off a cosmic trail. She giggles because the haze has caught onto her too and she's half-awake as it is. "He he, we could have fun too, y'know?"

He seizes, sitting up. "Y-Yang…?"

Yang does the same, huddling into a ball, clutching the comforter like it might shield her. "I-I meant by joining them! I didn't… I mean, I don't think I meant it that way…" Most of her is certain she didn't mean it like that but halfway through speaking, she wanted to take it back. She thinks she's ready, prepared to not freak out at the idea of exposing herself and seeing all of him. Her every uncertainty is truth, as honest as her apprehension to let him touch her.

She can barely see his face but his features soften in the dark, clearer when he gets closer. And for a moment it scares her to think he's taking that initiative. Her chest thumps like earthly tremors, cracking against her skin as it splinters like desert ground. Lips just as dry.

But he doesn't get any closer. He crouches next to her, facing away, but one of his hands reaches out for hers to close the rest of the distance. Her hands twitch when the warmth of his rolls over the back of her palm and hovers over her knuckles.

His hand stops and, instead, takes her fingers between two of his and a thumb. It's a gentle and quiet contact. He doesn't want to scare her. "I know you're having second thoughts," he says slowly, deliberately. As if knowing. Just like Saphron. "But how about we agree to do this when we're both one-hundred percent on it? Like when we have no doubt that this is how we take things going forward."

"Yeah… I think I'd like that." She clutches his hand fully now. Even shuffling closer. A warm breath tickles the hairs on his extended arm. "Look, I want it clear that it isn't you I'm apprehensive about. It's everything that comes after."

She can feel the heat of his blush from his hands alone.

"Uh… Yang, I hope I haven't somehow gotten you thinking I was going to do anything wild."

"No, no," she laughs, "nothing like that." She squeezes his hand and shuffles till her arm is flush against his. "I… I want kids."

"Um!" He tenses but doesn't let go of her as a sign of resolve.

"I don't mean now! Or anytime soon, I swear!" She lets him take a breath and unwind his rigid bones. "Really jumpstarted his heart, didn't I?" she thinks. Another squeeze from her, asking for courage he pours out of his sweaty palm.

"I'm afraid," she says finally, "of what comes after. If I don't try to stopgap how quickly things are going, sooner or later I'll have a kid of my own and I'll stare them in the face and… I'm worried that I'll be afraid. That, somehow, Mom running away would make sense."

He stares at her, eyes wide. "You called her mom."

An uncomfortable shiver runs down her neck and scrapes against her ribs. She shudders as she buries her head between her curled-up knees. "It's not about her. At least, I don't think so. I've caught myself calling her mom in my head when I think about it. Like I'm hoping I can still call myself a mother."

"That's a lot of thinking ahead, Yang. Who knows how long it'll even be till then."

She shrugs with a laugh that doesn't reach her eyes. "I've always been wired that way. I got a full life to live but I had to spend a lot of time prepping Ruby's future. If I don't prepare for the inevitable, I'll waste time trying to figure it out when it actually arrives."

"It doesn't sound like you're waiting to know if you'll be ready. Only that you worry if you'll ever be ready at all."

She nods, a touch of shame welling in her chest. "Is that bad?"

"I think it's human."

"That just tells me I could screw up like everyone else…"

"I like to think it means we're afraid of the same things."

Yang pulls her head out of her knees and blinks at him. Their hands are sweating and her nerves are mirrored on him too. She can see it on his face but it almost doesn't make sense. "Why?" she asks. "You'll make a great dad, Jaune. Hell, you'd make a great mom too!" She almost doesn't notice the little smile on her cheeks.

"Could say the same to you," he says, smiling again but there's a quiver in his hands. It's uncomfortably weak. "But it doesn't really matter that we think the world of each other. We'll probably mess up anyway. I may not share your fear of becoming like your mom but I'm every bit as afraid of not turning up like mine. My parents are storied huntsmen who raised eight proper kids. My grandparents before them were hard won veterans who were their children's heroes. That's a lot of legacy to live up to. And…" He makes a series of faces. All of them uncertain.

Her hand slides up his arm and the other knits between his fingers. Their heads lean onto each other before he speaks.

"Sometimes it feels like everything I'll ever do will be dwarfed by them. Short of saving the world and raising a dozen huntsmen–" Yang resists visibly wincing at the thought of raising twelve kids "–I'll never live up to them. And even if I do? I'm still not sure how to stop my kids from sharing the same fears…" He laughs. Not bitterly. There's a genuine hearty sound puffing out of his chest. "I think I know why Dad wanted me to be a doctor."

"Hm… Sounds like he was afraid of the same thing we are," she muses.

"I think so, too."

The sliver of light through the door passes them and, for a moment, the light is gone. The warmth and sweat of their hands are the only tangible things in the dark. And they cling to each other, summoning courage as fears drip away like melting ice.

"Jaune?" she asks.

"Yeah?"

"We should talk to your parents. I think there's a lot of easy-to-reach wisdom we aren't taking advantage of here." He's silent for a long second and Yang nearly calls him out until she notices the sheen of his scroll. "What are you doing?"

His Cheshire grin is mortifying under the pale glow. "Calling my folks."

"No! Stop!" she screeches, scrambling on top of him like a wild monkey. "I'm not ready! My hair's a mess!"

He pulls his hand away. "C'mon! They'll love you!"

"Can it, Arc! Sweet talking won't stop me!"

They wrestle for a while and Yang is so focused on getting his scroll that she forgets what she taught Jaune. They've wrestled in the past for training and something he's very broadly taken from those lessons has been going on the offensive. Tucking away his scroll, he manages to slink around her and grapple her arms.

"What? Hey!"

Trapping the length of her arms above her with his arm, he reaches around her with the other to grab his scroll. He pulls it up. It goes to call and the preview camera puts them both in view (strangely, like two floating heads from the dark).

With enough struggling, Yang knows she can break out even at a disadvantageous position, but the call answers quickly and she freezes up. Her awkward smile is automatic. Her panicked heart is full-auto.

"Hey, Mom, Dad! This is Yang, my girlfrie–" His mouth hangs open when their eyes meet in what can only be described as abject terror.

They hadn't exactly agreed on a label.

There's click from the scroll. "…And saved!" Jaune's mom sings. "Aren't you two cute."

-0-

They don't get a lot of answers. Jaune's parents, Apolian and Helia (she insists on Aunt Hess), tell them that this is the kind of discussion you have over dinner. Yang is promptly invited to see them over the Summer.

They do end up sharing stories, and by the end of it Yang feels confident that she's left a good first impression. Yet, by the time they walk into the morning light and find an empty spot together at the front deck, their nerves worm their way back in but for different reasons this time.

"So… labels. Yay," Yang cheers weakly against the railing.

"Yeah," Jaune drawls. "Fifteen percent off. This side up. Expires yesterday. Labels!" he cheers sarcastically, awkwardly. "Totally love 'em."

It's very easily something they can agree to discuss another time but it doesn't feel right doing so. Like it's not so big a deal that they can't hold off but not small enough to ignore for too long. Besides, people are going to ask questions (not that they haven't already) and just agreeing on something would work for a few more miles.

"Y'know, it's funny," Yang says, "I was fully prepared to just be boyfriend and girlfriend when this all started. Now that I've got clarity, I'm starting to wonder if we're even pacing ourselves right as friends."

Jaune hums agreeably. "But maybe we've worried so much about the pace that we've forgotten if it even matters… I mean, so what if things are going too fast? What should matter is if we want it or not."

"Do you want it?" she asks.

He shrugs. "I guess I don't mind telling everyone we're dating. And exclusive. But what are we if not that by definition? What's the difference with that and being an item?"

She sighs, pivoting around to lean her back against the railing instead. "What if the label's pointless to begin with? It just sums up what we are for other people. Like you said, it should only really matter to us."

"Maybe that's just it. The label isn't important to us and so it's only for them. If all they're asking is to sum up what we are, then we should just pick a label that answers enough questions and any nuance we need we can keep to ourselves."

"Yeah, we don't have change to fit it, even. We'll just be the way we are."

But the uncomfortable question of what they even are lingers between them. Not a label, per se. Perhaps a name truly is pointless, but what does it mean to be what they are?

When their hands meet in the middle, there's an air of comfort, a touch of romance. A quiet laugh and a knowing smile. They balk at the smell of salty sea air, laugh at the antics of an excitable Penny, gossip at some friends huddled a little too close. It's all friendly, familiar. Uncomplicated.

They decide that quantifying it is either too hard or actually impossible. And a quiet ambivalence washes over them – stinging and uncertain – and figuring it out will take a lot of testing.

-0-

It was supposed to be a little solitary date but Sun knows a guy with a boat house and Pyrrha has a sponsorship with an outdoor grill you can take to the beach (the sponsor feels that a photoshoot on the deck of a ship is an inspired take). The fact that there's a small, unfamiliar crew onboard is a little concerning but they're largely invisible and stay out of the way. Though Sun and Pyrrha have made it a game to hide away from them.

Yang has started wearing a red wig to throw them off and, stood next to Jaune who is a muscular blonde, from behind he can pull off looking like Sun at a glance. Most of the crew is understanding and they have a few good laughs.

Yang muses that she might look good as a redhead and posits to Jaune that she might dye her hair down the line.

"And here I thought those locks were sacred."

"Yeah, I don't think they can stop being immaculate," she says as she twirls in front of a mirror, trying to get a good look of it down her back. "Red's sufficiently bright. Maybe…"

"Well, bright colors will match your eyes," Jaune says sat across from her in a half-zipped wetsuit, "but I don't see you having many options with hair that long. You gotta get a hairdresser to cover all that thickness. You're gonna mess up trying to do it yourself."

Yang chews the thought like she does her lip. "I guess I could just cut it."

Jaune blinks at her. "I'm not the most religious man but even that sounds blasphemous."

"Heh. I might've thought the same thing last year."

"What changed?"

She bundles her hair in her hands, draping it over her shoulder. "I inherited my hair from my mom, but it's something I took and made my own. I took pride in that, but nowadays that just feels… petty. I mean, I still take pride in taking care of it, but I've started to come around to the idea that I could just like however I look as long as that choice is my own. Even if I end up looking ridiculous for a semester."

He comes up behind her, eying himself in the mirror. "Okay, but only if you let me do the same."

"Dye your hair?"

"Yeah, to match yours. Maybe I'll even grow mine out. Always wanted to try a wolf-tail." He turns his head and bunches up a few of his locks. It's not enough for a full tail since much of the length is lost in his fist, but Yang can kind of see it working.

But red?

"I can't put you through that."

"But you won't be," he says matter-of-factly, "I'll be putting myself through that. So, if I choose to stand behind you by experimenting with my hair the same way, that'll be my choice."

She sighs and backs up into his chest. "Why do you keep cheating? You know I can't argue with that kind of logic. And you'll just end up looking ridiculous by the end."

"At least I'll look like the bigger fool."

"Jaune…"

"I'm used to it," he maintains evenly, sternly. "I'm glad people don't look down on me anymore but being with me means you have to live with the fact that I'm still every bit that little spaz who threw up on your boots. Which I'm glad you forgave me for, by the way. Real quick on that too."

"Heh, well, my temper's never been about my style. An unfortunate dork just gets pity, and even a mild jerk might just get a glare. It's mostly about my pride. I worked hard on my hair back in freshmen year and… I hated losing. I mean, god damn does Yatsu hit hard. I guarantee that I'll start seeing red again if I get a repeat of last year's Vytal."

"You're competing again this year?"

She gives him gigawatt grin. "JNPR didn't need to compete but you all did anyway. If Jaune Arc can stand on international television despite obvious odds and harbor an unnecessary need to feel like he's somehow a burden, what's Yang Xiao Long to do but follow his example and beat her own demons to death?"

His cheeks are a touch red and she gives him the small mercy of not pointing it out. "I guess I can't argue with that either," he says.

Yang pushes off him and raises one hand while pressing the other against her chest before she announces before him, "I swear mercy upon my hair, that you might see fit to show mercy on yours."

"Even if things go horribly wrong and I decide that the only way to one-up you is to grow a mullet?"

She snorts. "I will shave you bald in your sleep, and don't think for a second that I won't do that."

They're laughing and he rolls his eyes but he's certain she'll make good on if it comes to that. "C'mon, we've spent enough time not getting ready. They're probably already in the water."

She helps him with his zipper. "Blake's probably already caught one," she says. There's an excited tingle that runs through her spine. "Now I've got an itch. Wanna see if we can catch more than she can?"

"Both of us against her?"

"She used to dive for clams with her dad. No gear either. Two against one is only fair."

They still lose to her, and they're not even in second place. Sun has been diving for seafood since he was kid.

They manage over two dozen lobsters and a handful of crabs, and unanimously agree not to boil the poor things alive. Still, they mess up a few times cause no one actually knows how to cook lobster even with Penny's encyclopedic knowledge but they manage a lovely dinner eventually with a few failed attempts.

Neptune and Weiss disappear at some point only to be stumbled upon below deck. They'd been drinking. Everyone respects their privacy and don't ask why.

-0-

Nora interjects on a Tuesday team meeting that – now that it's public that Jaune and Yang are basically a couple – people both see it and don't see it.

Jaune is confused for long enough to just outright ask what she's talking about.

Sometimes people will catch them getting a little close in the halls (they're starting to notice the stares), but they're not always together and you wouldn't have noticed that something was up if you didn't already know. They sit next to each other all the time but are frequently talking to the rest of their teams (there was rumor that Jaune was secretly dating Ruby after they laughed out loud during class a few times). Witnesses spot them boarding bullheads to Vale around the weekends but are as frequently found shopping for groceries, ammo, inspecting ingots, and once even at a car dealership (and they're surprised how most of the things they do together could only be classified as dates if you squint hard enough and pretend they're doing anything else).

They're never caught holding hands. The one kiss was even on the cheek and some people still believe they were seeing things altogether. It almost feels like fiction or outlandish gossip. Not because it's them, but because no one saw it coming and people are still refusing to trust their eyes.

Yang thinks it's hilarious. Jaune thinks they need to clarify things before they get awkward. Yang was already propositioned after she lied about there being nothing between them. Lies are only going to complicate things.

So, in that moment they decide, "We're a couple."

Sure. Fine. Give them a label when they ask but they aren't changing anything else. They'd already agreed on it anyway. Still, the societal pressure to look the part just didn't vibe with them and they hope the label is the last thing they ever give into outside of themselves.

-0-

They find out two things on the last week before the semestral break, the one they'll mostly spend in Patch with Yang's parents.

One, that lobster needs to be preserved damp and freezing with salt water. Fresh water off the tap ruins their last reserve crustacean. Shame. Guess they'll have to plan another boat trip.

And two, that – at least according to the crusty boatman – lobsters don't stop growing. They get bigger and bigger until they've outgrown their own shells. So, they shed it and grow a new one. Then, eventually, they outgrow that shell, too, and start the process over and over again until we find them, crack them open, and feast on their delicious insides…

The boatman forgets his own metaphor in the reverie of polishing off the last of his meal, plucking his lips over the last delicate morsels.

He tells them all, then, that the price of growth is to constantly find that what was once familiar will inevitably feel alien. That everything about you and around you will change, and adaptation is not only what makes it survivable, but it also keeps you sane.

When they think he's done, he coughs, wheezes, then speaks again.

You should always look out for the in-between, he says with a serious look in his eye. Thing is, after shedding their shell, lobsters have to spend their meantime being vulnerable. Squishy, ugly little things, he emphasizes with gusto.

Transitions in your life will be like that, often terrifying and tumultuous, and the scary part is that your worries doesn't stop there. You have to be careful about who you become when you come out the other end. That it's not only hard to make the transition, that your choices in that change will determine who you are moving forward.

A lobster will come out wrong if something unexpected happens in the middle of molting. Might grow another claw or bulge out somewhere uncomfortably. But the boatman, rather optimistically, says a lobster has the option to cut off an offending part of them and regrow it. It'll take a while though. Years even, but correcting your character is never as easily solved with an apology or an act of will.

Because you'll never undo your mistakes. You can only make things right. And sometimes you can only do that little by little.

For a moment, Yang thinks of Raven.

-0-

It's when they're out by the pier to try an egg sandwich that Yang is thinking about lobsters and metaphors. "So, what happens after the apartment?" she asks. "After Beacon?"

"I don't know," he shrugs. "I haven't thought that far ahead." Except he has, but it's all substitutions. He used to think of a future with Terra, but now Yang has replaced all those naïve, boyish dreams with a series of blonde heads bouncing on a couch. Still, these are fragmentary thoughts, and he doesn't think Yang would like it if he tried for the civilian life. No, right now – and for the past week – he's been trying to see where that future is now with Yang instead. "We should pair off, by the way."

"Uh, haven't we already?"

"I mean when we go hunting. I know you're only supposed to pair off with your own team but I don't see JNPR and RWBY splitting up… ever. I think we should get a head start."

"Okay, future proofing. Sounds like your next report for Leadership." It is, and Yang helps him figure out his bullet points while they chew thoughtfully on their egg sandwiches (it's really eighty-percent meat and cheese but it's got an egg inside and on top so it gets the name).

They talk about the car they're looking for. Jaune's racetrack savvy sister, Sable, it still swearing up and down about the Highway Aries being an ideal match. Yang still insists on a bike.

When they're packing up and driving home, Yang talks about her "cousin" Vernal and her estranged bedmate Shay. Jaune adds that he has cousins he doesn't remember because seven sisters are enough, he doesn't need to add another eight. (Yang reels at the idea of so many blondes at a single family gathering and those are just the grandkids).

When they're home they talk about another trip out to sea and inevitably segway back into lobsters.

Sitting on the couch, she's thinking about her future. Jaune plops next to her and laughs about something Ruby sends him on his scroll.

Yang's ignoring her messages from Nora – she's staring at her scroll on the coffee table and it buzzes but she can't register what's happening – and suddenly she blurts, "Hey, I know this is a ways off and I probably shouldn't be something you talk about it at eighteen in the middle of academy training but… if we get a girl, can we name her Summer?" There's no embarrassment blooming off her cheeks. Her face is completely neutral, and her eyes are searching for a response in his wide, vacant stare.

His typing hasn't stopped, only slowed. "…"

"Jaune?"

He sighs, and it's long and beaten like he's preparing himself for self-destruction. "Only if we agree to name our son…" he swallows uncomfortably. "…uh, Qrow?"

She's aghast, mouth opening and closing. "Did… did you lose a bet or something?"

He kisses her – his way of saying yes – but it's not cute this time. It's sad and piteous and his eyes scream an apology his lungs are strangling him not to say for fear of combusting in what is already volcanic embarrassment.

"Win the bet," she says sternly.

"What? But I already lost!"

"Then double or nothing! Short of him kicking the ever living fuck out of the bucket, I am not naming my son after my uncle." After his furious nodding, she summons a tiny strength in her lungs to speak, but not enough to look him in the eye. "So, you, uh, didn't answer my question."

The clatter of his flask on the coffee table almost scares her, but she can see that he isn't drinking at the thought of Terra. This time it's just about Qrow. It makes her feel less afraid. When he answers, there is no burden in his tone caused he'd downed his nerves in quarter-parts whiskey. "I'll agree to Summer if you let me name our next daughter Agrippa."

"Oh? Why?"

"Was set on it when I was kid. This was before Pyrrha, before Terra, even. I just remember crying at home during a storm. My bedroom door was stuck cause of a leak – y'know, cause water inflates wood – and no one could hear me call out to them under all the rain drumming the roof. I was soaking wet cause the leak got onto my sheets. Stupid thing was, I wasn't even afraid of getting sick or if my small boy body would get hypothermia. I just had a sleepover at a friend's place the morning after and I didn't want to miss it. Then, out of nowhere and probably from a fevered haze, I see a guardian angel or – as my sisters called it – an imaginary friend."

He pauses to look at her, to check if she thinks he's crazy. She doesn't. Yang doesn't judge. She listens.

"It was a girl just a head taller than mine," he continues. "The dark made her hair look brown or a dull red, so I can't recall that for sure but I remember her eyes. They were blue, like mine, only brighter. She said her name was Gri, short for Agrippa. She saw that I was cold and she knelt to my level and hugged me. Her body felt warm, but too warm like the way your hands might after holding freshly brewed coffee. I didn't notice I was dry until I was laid in an equally dry bed and already falling asleep."

She doesn't ask if he thought it a dream. "You weren't afraid?" she asks instead.

He shakes his head. "I just assumed she was someone from the neighborhood I neglected to meet. My hometown, Clove, is a community of retired huntsmen surrounded by their farmlands, and everyone outside of it knew not to mess with huntsman families. If anything, we kept giving passersby the spooks. Cause of that, I was taught to be friendly, not wary of strangers."

"Hm," she sounds thoughtfully. "That explains a few things, actually."

"Really? Like what?"

"Well, just one thing. Ruby told me how you two met. You told her that strangers are just friends you haven't met yet. Thought you might've even been a little sketchy until I saw you myself. Seemed like the kind of guy who'd meet her in the middle. Vomit and all."

"Heh, I'm glad we hit it off. Ruby's a good friend."

"She makes a better sister," she says, winking.

"I suppose I'll find that out eventually, huh?" He gives her a suggestive grin.

"Eh?"

His grin drops. "Y'know, cause she'll be my sister-in-law if we…" He rolls his hands.

"Uh… Oh. Oh! You were flirting! Damn it, I missed my chance!'

He laughs because she seems genuinely upset. She decides that pouting is for suckers and proceeds to bite his neck. This time he bites back.

-0-

They wake up with the hickeys still on their necks and they opt to leave it there for all to see. The reactions from their peers at Beacon are interesting, and they take it as sufficient proof enough for everyone that they're an item. No one bothers asking about them after that.

When the week comes to an end, Pyrrha promises that they can pay her back for covering for the car's down payment and that – by the time they get back from Patch – that it'll be in the apartment's designated parking spot. Only slightly used cause, of course, she's going to cruise in it with Sun when he flies back to the city tomorrow.

They're surprised when Jaune and not Yang is the one that makes them vow to clean the stains. Yang is very proud of him.

On the pier, they hug their friends goodbye and Ruby promises to catch up once she's done meeting someone important from Mistral as per the headmaster's instruction. She says she can't tell them why she's nervous. They don't pry and tell her they'll listen when she's ready.

Jaune, also, promises not to look at her baby pictures (until she's there, he doesn't say).

Once they're in transit on the ferry, he tries to straighten out a crease in Yang's leather jacket. The shard of fire dust in a cup of water is his attempt to steam it straight. He spends the time talking about his mom's home remedies and his dad's jury rigging. She answers with talk of Summer's garden that her dad and uncle tend to. He scoffs at the idea of Qrow gardening but admits that it makes sense.

With Jaune busying himself, Yang wonders if things will stay this way. If all they have to worry about is down payments, creases, spoiled lobsters, and baby names. That all the big problems, like her mother's abandonment and his actual, biological son, might rear themselves instead and come back to haunt them in devastating ways. But just before any doubt sinks in, he holds her hand from his perch on the floor. He kisses her knee and eyes her from over her lap.

"Whatever it is," he says, squinting. Thinking of what else to add but settles with, "It doesn't matter whatever it is…"

She is prepared to eat up anything he offers. That he'll be there for her, that they'll work it out somehow, that he'll banish any ill thought or doubt, but he says none of those things. Instead, he leans up and kisses her – tender and brief – on the lips.

She blinks. "What are you saying yes to this time?" She's so bewildered that she doesn't even know why she asks such a thing.

"You," he answers anyway. "All of you. I can't fix everything and I can't right every wrong, but I'll take you as you are, or whatever you'll become. Even if you're in pieces. Even if you stop loving me. I don't have be your boyfriend to be with you every step of the way."

It's clear, then, that Jaune's been dealing with doubts of his own. Yang swallows as things bubble to the surface before she blinks a few times and…

"I love you," she says, and she realizes that it's the first time she has said it.

-0-

Down the line, she remembers this moment most vividly of her trip to Patch that one Autumn afternoon. The uncomfortable smell of sea water and steam off a heated cup, the rock of the ferry that forces Jaune to swallow a pill and drops a dozen more just to stop from hurling, and the way her shorts nearly catch fire from the dust shard spilling onto her lap.

Cause then he's stable and she's got a change of clothes (the small fire charred the color in an uncomfortable spot), and they try for the overpriced food court a floor above to mask the smell of all the water in almost lousy, reheated pizza.

The boatman told them that change is tumultuous, and that screwing up in the middle of growing their new shell is almost inevitable. Maybe they won't fit quite so well in their new shell, and maybe they'll take a few cuts and scrapes before they settle comfortably in their own skin, and maybe an old wound might not quite go away and leave them vulnerable there forever…

…but even if so, they decide – after a toast with pizza that tastes like the box it came in – that they'll always have these beautiful little imperfections, and that they can be ugly, squishy lobsters together.

[jimlingss]

Dear Miss Kina, it's me again! First of all, congratulations on finishing your final fanfic on this blog! It was immensely what i've been waiting and hoped for. You definitely played with my heart till the very end! It's kind of like - with every fic you've released till now from Seokjin fics to Jungkook fics - every one of them are all so perfectly crafted, every member gets so written well that sometimes time flies so fast when im reading it!

I waited, and read The End for like two hours? And it was really worth it (im wriitng this at like 3am too) like damn i was pausing every second because I was just trying to decipher whatever was happening in each scene, it was all a lot to take in because with each scenario created with the boys, it almost felt like six whole fics crammed into one! The scrollbar was really small n wasn't moving at ALL when i was reading the first few parts and i was like, "wait this feels more like a 60k than a 31k ㅠㅠ" ??? Like how??? But i was smiling as i was reading through the whole thing, to find out it was a Jin centered fic -- and honestly all of your Jin fics are godtier -- i was like "YES YES YES OMG YES I THINK I KNOW WHERE THIS IS GOING" n it was real fun to guess which member went next and how the scenario would turn out.

N i really loved how smooth u incorporated both oc and Jin during each scenario, their bickering was so fun and their moments made me go "AWW WTF I WISH I WAS OC ATM" AND OMFG especially that parf where ic asks jin if he ever knew her before everything happened n the whole "like you love me" scene went down -- my mouth was WIDE open i was tearing up and i screamed so loud lmaooo omg ur like the only writer to actually make me react so violently about that ○_○ n when the scene wherein oc wakes up and doesnt see jin and rushes out, the way you wrote it, you sense the urgency and the dishevelled/rampant thoughts of hers when she sees seokjin on the floor bleeding like that and all the way to the hospital scene where she cant even talk despite feeling so sick DAMN i cant even stop staring at the screen even tho my head hurts from being awake all night (but honestly ur worth it)

Like if i had to rank the individual realities where reader ended up with, i think the one i got sadder for was the Taehyung reality -- the oc in that universe couldn't even have time for herself n gradually drowned in becoming a mother and a wife n all i could think of was "tae u should at least treat your wife >:((" n with Yoongi's i was like "whut's happening," and instead of being hurt about it i for no reason started to discuss my thoughts onto thin air "i dont want a partner like yoongi, they dont have time for e/o n thats kinda sad" n thats where i really started to guess maybe every scenario has a major downside but i had to figure it out. N then with Hoseok n Joon's i felt my heart crack a lil bit bc the oc's insecurities in that part (she felt world's apart to hobi n then inferior to joon) i was like...this is me n I DIDNT WANNA FEEL THAT WAY IN A RELATIONSHIP so then again i started to talk to myself looool. Then we have Jimin's that got me like damn :(( thats kind of harsh -- being in a reality with oc in the picture removes the fact that jimin had a stable life. And i guess with every scene you made with all members (did that intend to give me life lessons or sum uhh)

And last but not least, Jungkook's! Not gonna lie, i also thought he was gonna cheat on oc bc she mentioned she was a racer, thats the reason he was late to her bday dinner, but then the dots started to connect when she mentioned why jin looked solemn in the hospital (re: everything that i mentioned a paragraph or two before)

I do know this was loosely based on TATBILB, but as i was reading through it i found so many similarities to it. Like the BTS UNIVERSE incorporated in where Jin goes back in the last to try and desperately change the future where he is not there in order to stop people from getting hurt. And also Orange (one of my fav mangas) where Naho received letters (along with her friends) from her alternate self to save Kakeru from committing suicide, and it had the happy ending too wherein she stopped him from getting right in front the truck (tho there were mistakes that she didnt do correctly)

And that's all 😭🤧 im sorry if this ask was really long. But i wanted to say thank you for creating all of these wonderful stories! They made my day n i could still rmember finding out about you as a baby army myself so i could say you were part of my journey as a new army msksksksk. It was such a great fun time to be waiting for new fics to drop, new chapters released and announcements and funny asks to scroll through on my tl! I do hope you do well in whatever you embark on from now on and hey you'll finally get to publish a book! And i'll most likely read that too ^^ happy 5 years to the blog^^ thank you user Jimlingss, thank you Kina!

omg thank you for this amount of feedback and your extensive praise, I feel undeserving of it hahaha anyway, thank you for taking your time to enjoy the end. honestly, I was aiming for it to be a 50k fic to just really indulge you all as my last story. But as I was writing it, it turned out muuuch shorter to my exasperation. but it still stands as my longest oneshot and I think it ended up pretty great in spite of being so much lower than my intial word count goal. that being said, I'm glad it felt long to you!!

Also thank you for giving me a run down on your thoughts on the other timelines LOL it was really fun for me to think about it as well and consider what OC and Jin would've chosen had they chosen. While each had their downsides, some of them they liked more than others. since you indulged me so much with such a long message, I'll indulge you as well....OC's choices prob would've been JK > Tae > Joon > Hobi > Yoongi > Jimin. While Jin (if he could make the choice for her), it would've been Joon > Tae > Yoongi > Hobi > Jimin > JK.

I came up with the whole idea of the end. while watching TATBILB cause I thought this whole alternative reality worlds was gonna happen but nope, they took a much different direction lol and I'm happy to hear you mention Orange bc that was one fantastic manga I read!! Personally, I find the end. to be the love child between The Truth Between Us and The Seven Kinds of Love (with a sprinkle of Seven Seconds in Heaven) hahha there's definitely elements of pre-existing stories to this guy but I don't mind so much since it feels like almost a call back to them :')

Anyway thank you for the love and encouragement!! I'm sending well wishes to you too!!

[silverhandy]

I saw the devil (in me) - chapter 6

Takemura doesn't believe in ghosts, not really, but a man driven to his limit might believe in just about anything. Trapped in a losing game and consumed by grief, he returns to Night City looking for closure. but ends up finding something much more.

ao3 I chapter 1 I chapter 2 I chapter 3 I chapter 4 I chapter 5

    When Takemura opened his eyes, he had no idea where he was, the apartment so foreign compared to what he was used to. The dissonance was almost enough to push the grogginess away from his mind, make the heaviness of his limbs less daunting as he looked around, taking in the surroundings. Right, he was at Viktor’s, must’ve dozed off at some point. At first, Takemura didn’t know what awoke him, other than the painful stiffness of his neck and shoulders but as his vision cleared, that, too, became apparent. Viktor was standing by the kitchen counter, motioning to take off his jacket, the snow that covered the material already melted and soaking into it, but froze halfway when he saw Takemura stir awake.

    “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake ya. Should’ve taken the bed, though.”

    “You did not wake me, I was just about to…” Takemura replied, motioning to get up, but what stopped him was a warning meow from the cat, still lying on his lap. It raised its head, clearly not amused by the disturbance. Viktor raised his eyebrows, a faint smile appearing on his lips as he grabbed himself a chair and sat down, leaving the jacket on the counter.

    “He likes you.”

    “Does he have a name?” Takemura asked as the cat stood up, clearly deciding it had had enough of its guest’s affections, and jumped to the floor in a swift motion, not even glancing at the two men.

    “Nibbles.” Viktor chuckled. “Before you ask, it was not my idea, but V’s. Judy...isn’t in the best place right now, said the cat reminds her of V too much, plus she’s leaving Night City for good anyway. Asked me to take care of it, so I took the little guy in.” he said, looking over at Nibbles, who jumped onto the counter, eyeing the bowls on the far corner of it and finally turning its gaze back to Viktor, disappointment clearly visible in its huge eyes. The ripperdoc shook his head slightly, a soft smile on his face as he engaged in a staring match with the cat, his eyes losing focus behind the tinted lenses as he got lost in thought. Takemura took the time to stretch, the aftereffects of a nap in such an uncomfortable position having stiffened his joints. He didn’t feel rested, more like he had been rather abruptly fished out of a tank filled with warm water. Then again, he didn’t think he knew what feeling rested felt like anymore.

    “A fine feline.” Takemura finally said, only to break the uncomfortable silence between them and to shake the doctor off whatever track of thought he found himself on. Viktor only hummed in acknowledgment, turning his gaze back to the other man.

    “Glad to see you settled in okay. It’s been slow at the clinic, so I thought I would drop by, just to grab something and see how you’re doin’ while I’m at it.”

    Takemura took a quick look at the little screen displaying the time, the digital numbers displayed on a small screen giving off a soft, blue glow. What he probably should have expected, what would have been just a moment of rest turned into a few hours and Takemura had already felt he had wasted enough time.

    “Thank you for the clothes,” he said, bowing his head slightly, as if his words weren’t enough to accent his appreciation. In reality, they really weren’t.

    Viktor waved his hand.

    “Don’t mention it. Figured you’d want to wear something that’d make you feel more...you.”

    Takemura let out a deep sigh. Viktor deserved more than half-truths and omissions. He owed him the truth, after everything the ripperdoc had done for him.

    “I was let go from the company.” Viktor raised his eyebrows at this sudden change of topic, but said nothing, allowing Takemura to carefully choose his words as he continued. “Completely and irrevocably. I refused to accept the consequences my actions have brought upon me and was punished for it.”

    “Letting you out alive was Saka’s idea of a parting gift?” Viktor asked, leaning back on the chair. Despite the calmness of his voice, Takemura could feel a hint of sarcasm, anger even, though it was not directed at him.

    “I would say it was the opposite. In their eyes, I did not take the chance to redeem my honor and have to live with that decision weighing down on me.”

    Viktor hummed and took off his glasses, wiping the lenses on the edge of his shirt. Even though Takemura never wore them, always having been equipped with cutting edge optics, a new set from time to time, long before it officially made its way into the wider market, he doubted cleaning the lenses like this was effective. It almost looked like Viktor was buying himself time to think about what he was about to say, though the silence didn’t last more than a few seconds.

    “And in your eyes?”

    The question took Takemura aback, summing up what he’d been thinking about in merely a few words. A rare thing it might be, an ability he never had, never needed back when his life was dictated by a clear set of rules and orders from people he accepted as his superiors, first in the military and then, later, by Saburo-dono’s side.

    “I...am not sure yet. I came all this way only to realize that what I fought my entire life to protect, to uphold might be little more than a vicious lie. It is hard to face, how replaceable I am. I had been selfish, enough to believe that after I cleared my name and helped Hanako-sama bring Yorinobu to justice, everything would be the same as before. How foolish of me! Before I knew it, the order of things I fought to help restore, one I have killed for, was distorted into something I could no longer recognize. And the scariest part,” Takemura hesitated for a moment, but it was too late to not finish his trail of thought, bare all his doubts to Viktor the way he would never dare to in front of someone else. “is that it might have always been like that. I was just too blind to notice.”

    “Must’ve felt like a rug was swept from under your feet. However painful it might seem, you are your own man now. You can forge your own path, and it’s only up to you if you see it as a blessing or a curse, but it does make a hell of a difference. Trust me,” Viktor said, a warm, knowing smile on his face. “I’ve been there.”

    Takemura felt curiosity rise in his chest, remembering the photo of Viktor from his Trauma days, but he didn’t want to push the other man, just as Viktor had not pushed him. As expected, the ripperdoc didn’t elaborate and Takemura didn’t ask him to. There was a time for everything and he felt it wasn’t it, not yet.

    “Thank you,” he said and stood up, walking to the chair to grab his coat and put it on. It wasn’t that late, he might still be able to catch Akiko at work, not that she ever left it. “I am going to meet with a netrunner, but will be back soon.”

    “A friend of yours?”

    “I would hesitate to call her a friend, but we did help each other. That account I mentioned, I set it up shortly before leaving the city. I never thought I would have to use it again, but as you say...better to be safe than sorry.”

    Viktor hummed in response. “Alright. Just watch your step out there, the snow is pretty nasty.”

    “I will. By the way,” Takemura turned around just as he was about to put his hand on a scanner to open the front door. “what did you do with that car? And the wakizashi?”

    “The sword? Still have it, but left it behind at the clinic. Do you need it back?”

    Takemura hesitated. Does he?

    “Not really.” he silently hoped he never will. “The car?”

    “Had to call in a favor to make it disappear. A real shame, it was quite a beauty. Your Arasaka buddies seem to have cleaned their own mess before NCPD caught a whiff.”

    “Of course. They always do.” and with that, he walked out.

***

    When he finally reached the less frequented part of Charter Hill, the little sunlight that managed to break through the dark, heavy clouds was long gone, giving way to street lights and neons tastefully implemented into the newly built, sleek looking buildings, even though right now they were obscured by the heavy snowfall that made Takemura regret he couldn't just drive there. Even the ever present neons and advertisements were more subtle, on par with the kind of life the people residing in the district were leading - moderately comfortable, a step up from Heywood, but still not high enough up the food chain to compare with those rich enough to reside in City Plaza. Takemura had eventually strayed off from the wide, open spaced pavements into a more dense area, navigating the increasingly narrow streets that exposed the true image of Charter Hill, the middleman district with nothing but a pretty exterior masking the rot that went too deep into Night City’s system to ever be truly hidden, revealing itself in various ways, from overworked corpos passed out the benches despite the grueling cold to the occasional bloodstain on the pavement, only partially obscured by fresh snow, one that the cleaners haven’t managed to scrub off yet. An organic proof of meaningless violence in a place that kept eating its own young and hopeful, entangling them in an endless web of favors and obligations, one that kept tightening and spreading all around the city. Even Takemura, on his first visit to Night City, out of money and resources, found himself entering the untold arrangement that kept the city ticking, indebting himself to people and indebting others for his sake just to keep himself afloat. Some of the favors he already cashed in, others he hoped he’ll never have to, but at least in this case he didn’t walk past the rusty gate to the netrunner’s basement with cautious distrust, as he did with so many others. Akiko was different, much more human despite the fact she interacted with the ghosts floating around the Net much more frequently than with regular humans. Despite that, she still had something that many have lost on lesser endeavors - a conscience and a heart to back it up.

    As he walked down the stairs, careful not to slip on the ice the water dripping from the roof has turned into, he pushed the heavy, metal door open, only a small name plaque an indicator of who might reside there. The doors closed behind him with a dull thud, one that almost made him jump as he walked further into the building, following the neon line on the floor, the only source of light in the otherwise completely dark corridor. Eventually, it widened into a large room, the netrunner the only person there. For a second, Takemura didn’t even see her until he turned his gaze to the server on the left side, one of many lining the walls. Before Takemura had a chance to announce his presence, the netrunner’s voice came, a bit muffled:

    “Yeah yeah, gimme a sec!” the woman muttered, her entire torso still hidden inside the jaws of the machine as she tinkered with its’ insides, balancing on one foot as she struggled to reach for the cable she needed.

    “No rush, Akiko,” he said, leaning on the doorframe, seemingly the only place in the entire room where he wouldn’t have to worry about tripping over or breaking something, the space was so densely covered with cables and spare parts spread all over the floor and running up, creeping up on the walls, some insulated with a dulled glow of tiny LEDs, basking the room in an unnatural, blue light. How the netrunner could work like this, Takemura had no idea.

    Upon hearing his voice, the woman jumped, hitting her head on the metal plate with an audible thud. Cursing under her breath, she finally emerged and turned to face him, rubbing the back of her head with a pained expression.

    “Takemura, you scared the shit out of me! Some warning would be nice,” she complained as she walked over around the partially disassembled netrunning chair to greet him, a smile on her face despite her seemingly cold tone. She looked different from the last time he’d seen her, her previously long, greying hair now cut short and dyed angry pink, reflecting the blue hues and creating strands of violet that danced around her face every time she moved her head.

    “I presume this means you have not expected me.”

    “After our last conversation? The only person I expected to see less was Saburo Arasaka himself. What brings you back to Nigh City? I thought you hated the place.” she said, stepping over a box of what looked like fried cyberdecks to grab a chair. “Here, take a seat, you look like you’re about to topple over.”

    Takemura sighed and reluctantly sat down, secretly grateful for the offer. The room was unpleasantly warm, servers towering one next to the other enough to bring the temperature up to a point where he had to shake off his coat.

    “I came to honor the memory of a friend and stayed to admire the scenery,” he said, his attempt at sarcasm met with Akiko’s expression softening. Takemura saw the way her eyes kept darting to his arm, bandage peeking out from the long sleeve of his shirt.

    “Shit, I’m so sorry. It was that merc that you worked with, right? I heard about what you guys pulled at the parade from a ‘runner friend of mine. With what came after, I thought you’d be back at Saburo’s side in Tokyo, so…”

    “Akiko-san, excuse me, but I did not come here to gossip.” he stopped her mid sentence, feeling a sudden need to cut this conversation short and get out of this warm, confined room into the biting cold of Charter Hill. The woman looked surprised at the retort.

    “O-of course. Whaddya need?”

    “That account I asked you to set up before I left. Is it still up?”

    This time, she scoffed.

    “‘Course it is. I have one of these beauties constantly pulling it in and out of the Net as we speak.” she pointed to one of the servers lining the wall. “Normally it would’ve cost you a ton of eddies to keep it buried as deep as it is, but I honor my debts. You helped me, now I’m helping you, no questions asked. Although…” she trailed off and crossed her arms. “I’d certainly appreciate it if you cared to share why the hell you need to cash that one in in the first place. Arasaka not paying as much as they did back in my day?”

    Takemura grunted. Of course, she, of all the people he got to know in this godforsaken city, wouldn’t let him off the hook that easily.

    “We had a disagreement of sorts, one that resulted in me being let go in a rather abrupt manner. I did not have much time to make preparations for such an event, hence I come to you. I need to get access to the deposit. Can you do that for me?”

    Akiko narrowed her eyes, clearly not expecting such honesty on Takemura’s part.

    “Well then,” she said, reaching for a port box propped up next to one of the many screens standing on the tabletop. “of course I can. Just jack in and I’m gonna walk you through it.”

    “I am afraid my personal link is out of commission for now. Is there any other way?”

    “Good luck getting around the city without one. You had a ripperdoc take a look?”

    “I did,” he replied, a bit annoyed at her pretentiousness. “Please Akiko, just focus. Is there any other way?”

    “I can put you through a neural port directly, but…”

    “What?”

    “You’d have to jump into the Net with me and to be frank, you don’t look like you’re at the top of your game. With no one keeping an eye on your biomon, I’m worried you could flatline on me.”

    “So I can either wait until my personal link can be fixed or come back here with a ripperdoc?

    “A tech savvy one at that. And someone you trust, considering what we’re doing here.”

    Takemura was silent for a few seconds, considering. Just a few months ago, he’d probably rush into it, not wanting to stall his progress any further, determined to keep things moving even if it would cost him later, but now, with the unexpected turn his life has taken, he wasn't so quick to act. If jumping into the Net was as risky as Akiko made it out to be, and he had every reason to trust her on that, pushing for it right now would be counterproductive. He thought about Viktor and how his work would go to waste if Takemura was to fry on the netrunner’s chair, so much effort on the ripperdoc’s part for nothing. Other than the need to pay Viktor off as soon as possible, even if only to make up for his kindness, since the doctor not only did not push Takemura to hurry but offered him a place to stay so casually, there was nothing rushing him. No time sensitive goal that required him to push himself far past his limits as he feared not only for his uncertain future, but for his very life. It felt odd, in a way.

    “Fine. I think I know just the right person.”

[trikxx]

Hey besties im backkkk😙! Im trying to get another chapter of my Kenma story but I need some time so im just going to write for this one.

Songs for this chapter:

• losin control - russ

• first fuck - 6lack, jhene aiko

( ⚠️this chapter mainly contains smut(degrading & edging)⚠️)

A few days later🧍🏽‍♀️

"Hey y/n are you awake?" Denki says. Y/n groans "now i am." Denki huffs and slowly opens the door and goes in the room. "I made breakfast. But I wanted to talk to you." He says looking at her pinging phone.

"You cant keep ignoring him y/n."

"Why should it matter Denki?"

"You should go and talk to him. No you are going to talk to him cause you can't keep locking yourself in here and not talking about your feelings. You both need to talk to each other and talk it out." Y/n lets his words sink in.

"Denki-"

"No. Get dressed we are are going back so you can talk to him."

Y/n rolls out the bed after Denki leaves the room. 'Why?' Y/n thought to herself as she pulled out some clothes.

Y/n looks at her phone analyzing the messages sent by Shinsou and sees some from Shindo who she occasionally texted only cause he was being annoying.

Hitoshi☄️: y/n. You dont have to come back and stay can we at least just talk.

Hitoshi☄️: nvm take you time.

'That was the last message he sent huh?' Y/n thought

Shindo.: Hey just want to ask if you wanted to hang out today?

Shindo.: You there?

Shindo.: y/nnnnnnnn😃.

Shindo.: are to shleepingggg🙂

*1 missed call from Shindo.*

"Dude." Y/n said making a irritated face. 'Am i about to text him back....yes cause why not. Shinsou can be player why cant I. I mean just a little sum sum to get my mind off that douche Hitoshi.'

Y/n🌸🤍: sorry I was sleep.

Y/n🌸🤍: yea sure we can hang out. What time and where.

Shindo.: Heyyyyy!

Shindo.: Any time is good for me. Maybe at Venice😗?

Y/n🌸🤍: Cool! I'll text you the time when I figure it out.

Shindo.: Do you want me to pick you up?

Y/n🌸🤍: no its ok. I have to do a few things so ill meet you there.

Shindo.: ok see you later then😏.

Y/n🌸🤍: cant wait🤗

'Bitch what the fuck was "cant wait🤗"' y/n thought to herself as she did her hair.

"Falling in love now lossing control now~" y/n sang along with the lyrics 'damn a bitch really in her feels.'  Y/n giggled and went to get her outfit out

Y/n sat back down on the bed. 'Maybe i should take my truck. No Denki wouldn't let me.' Y/n thought

____

"Do we really have to go?" Y/n asked. "Yes." Denki responded bluntly. Y/n rolled her eyes and went back to the room and called Mina.

*incoming call from Y/n😃✨*

Mina picked up her phone and answered quick.

Mina: Hey babes! How are you feeling?

Y/n: Im feeling ok, Denki is making me go talk to him

Mina: I agree with Denki you should talk to Hitoshi before you go and.... ya know... pop ya pussy fa a grand

Y/n: Mina noo

Mina: Im kidding im kidding.... unless..

Y/n: Nope. Thats enough.

Mina: Put ya p*ssy lips on live i give ya a thousand dollas

Y/n: Bye Mina.

Mina: No waittt-

*call ended*

___

Y/n giggles and lays back on the bed. 'I wonder how this is gonna go' . "Lets go y/n im ready." Y/n grabs her phone and keys and follows Denki out the house.

"Can I take my-" "no." Denki said. "Well shit."

"Y/n. You've been ignoring him and sulking for too long. We need y/n back." Denki said keeping his eyes on the rode.

"Can I play some music at least?" Y/n asked "Yea. What ever floats your boat and gets you to talk to Shinsou."

____

"I'm ready." "Ok lets go." He responds. Denki and Y/n walk out to Denki's car and he pulls out the driveway and drives to Y/n and Shinsou's apartment.

"You go in ill wait out here for you." Denki said. "Tch. Ok" y/n said getting out the car.

Y/n walked into the lobby "Hello ms. Y/n." The woman at the desk says. "Hey." Y/n says walking past to the elevator and then pressing 5.

There was many thoughts going through y/n's head.

'Should I actually do this.'

'Why am i here.'

'I should have taken my car any way and went somewhere else'

'Fuck him i should leave'

'Is it my fault?'

"FUCK!" Y/n yelled right before the elevator stopped. There was someone waiting and they looked at her crazy. "Sorry." Y/n said walking past them soon putting her hands in her pockets.

___

Y/n was standing outside the apartment with the key in the door debating if she should go in or not.

Y/n takes the key out the door and turned to walk away. But the door opens "y/n ?" Shinsou says standing in the door way shirt less. His eyes puffy and his eyes looking more restless then usual.

Shinsou runs toward y/n immediately enclosing her in a hug dipping his head into the space between y/n shoulder and neck. "Y/n im sorry! I should have known! I- I wasn't thinking!" Shinsou said. "Please forgive me." He continued pulling away to look y/n in her eyes.

"Y/n?" He said again looking into her teary eyes. Y/n hugs Shinsou tightly. "I missed you." Y/n say crying on to Shinsou's chest. They walk in to the apartment and sit down on the couch.

"Soo what have you been doing Shinsou?" Y/n says looking at Shinsou while he scrambles around to pick up the stuff that was out of place. "I've been..." he stops. "Its ok to tell the truth. Im not gonna judge you Toshi."

Shinsou blushes cause he hadn't heard the nickname in a while. "Well.. crying and trying to get in contact with you." He says. "Sorry I wasn't answering i've kinda been ignoring everybody." Y/n says with a small chuckle while leaning onto Hitoshi's shoulder.

"I missed you y/n." Shinsou says. Y/n lifted her head up and looked at Shinsou he looked back. "You kn-"

⚠️ne noor ne noor mayday mayday⚠️

⚠️smut⚠️

Y/n was cut off by Shinsou's lips crashing into hers. Y/n kissed back and moved closer to him deepening the kiss.

Shinsou grabbed her butt making y/n moan into the kiss. This turned him on more. He pulled y/n on to his lap. Y/n put her arms around his neck and closed the space between them.

___

Yes y/n and Shinsou were best friends but they fucked a little bit here and there. Shinsou had feeling for y/n and he really wanted her but he didn't want to ruin their relationship. Y/n had feelings but she didn't want a relationship because of what happened with Todoroki.

But theres only a matter of time before every ting becomes clear. Right?

___

Shinsou picks up y/n and carries her to her room and laying her on the bed not breaking the kiss. He tugs at the bottom of her shirt and she nods. Shinsou begins to pull y/n's shirt off breaking the kiss. He takes off his sweats and climbs on to the bed hovering over y/n's frame.

"Beautiful little fuck." Shinsou says with a smirk then taking off y/n's shorts.

He tosses the shorts to the floor then dips into y/n's neck immediately finding her sweat spot and starts leaving hickeys and love bites.

Shinsou starts kissing y/n again slowly brushing his fingers down her body stoping at the band of her underwear.

Shinsou begins to rub y/n's clothed clit "ahh~". He smirked and stop and started removing y/n's panties. Shinsou bit his lip at the sight. "So wet already." He said. Shinsou goes back to kissing y/n.

He inserts a finger into y/n. "Shinsou~" y/n moans. She feels Shinsou smirk on her lips as he adds another finger. "Like that? Fucking slut." Shinsou says breaking the kiss and speeding up his pace.

Y/n felt her core tighten up "im gonna cu-" Shinsou abruptly stopped. "What the fuck Shinsou?!" Y/n says. "Aw did I get your hopes up?" "Fuck you." Y/n spat. "Oops- wrong answer." Shinsou said smiling.

"What?" Y/n asks. "Shin- ah~" Shinsou dipped his fingers back into y/n going at a fast pace. "Fuck~"

Y/n relaxed her body knowing she was about to release but Shinsou stopped. "FUCKKKK! WHY DO YOU KEEP DOING THAT!" Y/n yells. "So I have to say it don't cum till I say so." Shinsou says.

"Ok." Y/n responds but Shinsou doesn't budge. "Ok what?" He said with a straight face. Y/n held back her smile "ok Shinsou." She said deciding to dance with the devil. "You little fuck." Shinsou said with a smile.

Shinsou puts both of y/n's legs on his shoulders and puts his arms around her legs keeping them in place. He lick a "mmm y/n you taste so good." Y/n threw her head back and slipped her hands into Shinsou's hair.

"Fuck! Ah~" y/n moaned. Shinsou started to go faster "SHIT SHIT SHIT!" Shinsou got harder at the sound of y/n's moans. He couldn't wait any longer. Shinsou wanted to break y/n. He wanted to feel her around him.

"I'm gonna-" "yes princess cum on my face" "cum for me!" Shinsou demanded and Y/n obeyed. "FUCK~"

Shinsou let y/n finish then he kissed her. He then pulled of his boxers and threw them with the rest of their clothes. Y/n sat up on the her elbows as Shinsou started kissing her again. He positioned himself at y/n's entrance.

"I want to hear you beg. Beg for me to fuck you senseless." Shinsou demanded "please" "please what." "Please fuck me!"

"I said beg bitch!"

Y/n let of a quiet groan when Shinsou yelled. He could way all night for her to beg just edging her for hours on in.

"Please fuck me! Ughh~ please!" Y/n whined out. "Good girl~" Shinsou purred as he put his hand on y/n's stomach to feel him self going in count each inch.

"1~"

"2 fuck~"

"3~"

Y/n threw her head back as he went further "cant take it?" Shinsou said voice laced in lust.

"7~"

"8 ughhhh~" he said throwing his head back.

Shinsou pulled y/n closer to him and kissed her neck starting to stroke slowly at a gruesome pace for y/n. "Faster~" y/n moaned out. Shinsou smirked and pulled out. Y/n loudly groaned "stop fucking teasing~" she whined pulling Shinsou back on to the bed and getting on top.

"What do you think your doing." Shinsou says with a smirk. "Something you wouldn't."  Y/n said lowering herself down. Before she could get past tip Shinsou flipped over with him on top and went the way in and started going at a brutal inhuman pace.

"Is this what you wanted, fucking slut!"

____

'Y/n has been in there for a long time' Denki thinks getting out the car. " im gonna go check on them."

Denki walks into the apartment building. "Good evening sir. Is there anything you need help with?" The woman at the desk said.

"Uhh...actually yes do you know which apartment.. Hitoshi Shinsou stays in." "Yes apartment 503." "Thank you" Denki says walking away.

'503. 503. 503.' Denki repeated in his head while in the elevator and while walking to the door. Denki knock on the door but noticed it moved when he made contact. "Bitc- oh its open. Scary~" Denki slowly walks into the apartment. "Damn this is nice."

Denki goes to find Shinsou's room. As he gets closer to what he think is Shinsou's room he hears moans he decides to stop and just listen.

"What are you doing."

"Something you wouldn't."

Denki heard something hit the bed and then a loud whine.

"Is this what you wanted, fucking slut!"

"SHINSOU~"

Denki couldn't bare the screams. "Y/N ARE YO- oh~" "Looks like we have a guest Y/n." Shinsou says looking at Y/n. "You like this y/n?" Be continued with a smirk. "Ah~ please- s-slow down" Y/n whined

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid 188

188

   Keith woke feeling the best he had in days. Coffee in the air and Lance had moved him to rest his head on his upper leg. He didn’t like face masks. Having his eyebrows waxed brought tears to his eyes. His nails had some kind of clear nail polish on them... but Lance had sent him into a whole other kind of bliss by playing with his hair. He’d found himself rambling, and making weird grunting kind of noises as Lance untangled his hair then started brushing it. After that he was very much a sook. Dazed and dopey, he’d been bopped on the head when he’d missed Lance asking him to help pack his go bag, his boyfriend comparing him to his coffee deprived morning zombie state, giving up asking anything from him other than his shirt to scent the things in his go bag.

  Wanting Lance to feel as blissed as he did, he tried his very hardest as he massaged Lance’s back, legs and feet. He’d failed to really notice how Lance’s feet seemed swollen. His ego felt he’d let Lance down by not noticing how painful it must be for his lover. Lance only mentioned the pain in his back and hips, then his breasts as his milk came in. Oiling Lance up was not without its issues. Lance insisted on wearing a towel around his groin to cover his bits during the massage. Keith didn’t see the point. Lance had a cute arse, which he wasn’t supposed to point out. Watching his boyfriend, he wanted to touch him, yet with his belly on display he felt awful about the nursery and shooting Lance down as he had. Going for an apology blow job, Lance pushing him back with a foot to his shoulder, declaring no touching until he’d had the rest of his pampering.

  His boyfriend was a shit.

  Using the same face mask as Lance, it made Keith’s skin tingle. Lance explaining face masks should be a sometimes treat and all these weird things about toners being bad for skin and coconut oil being even worse. After face masks came a bubble bath, where Keith was forced between Lance’s legs and Lance played with his hair again. The whole thing felt like they were following some kind of unfun torture manual. Self care seemed too much like hard work. After that came a short break, then the wax went on... then the nails were trimmed and painted, then the wax came off and it was not fun. Keith wasn’t sure the what exactly about it brought tears to his eyes, yet he would have preferred to keep his budding monobrow and hairy toe tops. How Lance could possibly seem fine with waxing other places was weird. For a day of pampering, Keith definitely felt he’d feel better about facing a half starved vampire than he would about facing all of this again. Huffy, Lance laughed at his grumbling, rewarding him with head pats, and a braid that Matt pouted over when he came home.

  Whatever his personal thoughts on the matter where, his ego had responded. He felt almost constantly cocky over looking good for their mate. He didn’t think he looked that different. Maybe a few less eyebrow hairs... Noticing he was awake, Lance moved his hand to stroke his hair

“I made you coffee”

Mmm... He was loved. Wriggling closer to Lance, he nosed at his boyfriend’s leg. Lance should have woken him up when he’d gotten up

“You hate the smell”

“Eh, I was throwing up anyway”

He could smell his coffee. It was so close. If he could reach around Lance, he’d have his coffee... but that meant giving up pats

“I thought that’d settled”

“It’s a bit better but yeah, no, this morning I went to have some toast and blargh. I decided to get a few things organised. We’re going to Platt today”

  The idea of pats disappeared with the need for coffee. When Lance got in a mood, he knew better than to try and stop him. Dragging himself up to sit, Lance passed him his coffee, phone in his left hand as his thumb hovered over the screen. With the coffee cool enough to drink, he swallowed it down, grateful for the caffeine and that his boyfriend would withstand the scent for him. Passing the mug back, Lance chose to throw his phone down with a sigh where it landed next to the mug

“Should I ask?”

“I’ve been up since 5”

“What’s the time now?”

“Nearly 8”

  That’s three hours of rest Lance could have been having. Keith groaned at the idea, pulling the blanket up as he curled into Lance

“You should have been resting”

“I had things to do”

No. In Keith’s world it was far too early for those things. Lance should have switched his brain off and accepted cuddles

“Sleep is better”

“Says the lazy werewolf. I’ve booked the accomodation, and talked to Coran. He said he’d see me today and if it’s all good, we can go”

  Keith blinked, his eyes feeling gritty with sleep. He needed more time for the caffeine to kick in

“Babe?”

Humming, Keith couldn’t quite word what he wanted to word, since he didn’t know what he wanted to word. Too many words were coming at him

“I know. I’m terrible. I couldn’t get back to sleep, my head wouldn’t shut up”

“Ugh”

Yep. That summed up his current intelligence

“Pretty much”

  On the table Lance’s phone vibrated. Lance ignoring the device though Keith felt him tense

“Babe?”

“It’s alright. You know how Matt fixed my laptop, I had him figure out how to send those photos to Veronica and now she’s trying to talk to me”

Ah. That explained why Lance couldn’t get back to sleep

“You don’t have to talk to her”

“I know. I want to get a lot done in Platt today, so you’re going to have to get up”

   Lance got another coffee into him, while Keith had forced his boyfriend to drink some blood before they left for Platt. Lance not letting him drive as he’d drank from him, his boyfriend uncomfortable behind the steering wheel. Closing his eyes for the drive, car sickness was apparently not cured by turning into a werewolf. Lance asked him once or twice if he needed to pull over, Keith humming it off. His ego seemed to be like “What the heck is this?”. With Lance wanting to get things done, Keith hoped those things didn’t involve seeing people, not after how his last shopping trip had gone.

  It turned out Lance had that covered. He’d been as busy as he’d said he’d been. First stop was VOLTRON... which was funnily enough Keith’s only stop. He didn’t know why Lance had brought him, only that he was mad as heck when Lance explained, after his scan, that he and Curtis were going shopping, leaving Keith with Shiro and Krolia for the time being. He knew he was useless, yet he couldn’t help feeling lied to. Lance had made it seem as if he wanted to do whatever it was together. That he wanted him around. And that getting whatever it was done, would finally result in them getting to leave Garrison . Instead, his boyfriend had gone off with his friend, leaving him to the mercy of Shiro and his mother, when all he wanted to do was sleep of his nausea.

   *

Lance had snapped. He’d officially snapped. He’d called Coran up, crying for reasons he wasn’t exactly sure of outside of him feeling very done with being pregnant. Keith had really settled in the last two days. He’d hated being pampered, and though Lance had laughed at his grumbling, he couldn’t deny being slightly hurt that Keith had enjoyed their time together. He’d tried his best to make it enjoyable for Keith, only for Keith to hate all of it.

  The worst bit was that his ego felt insulted. He wanted to get things ready for giving birth. The closer to surgery, the less he’d be able to do. He’d planned to have this done already, and now it hurt to look at the nursery each time he came up the stairs. For an old house, he’d realised how much he’d changed the floor plan, leaving certain spaces and gaps between walls for better aesthetics. If he were to knock down two of the upstairs walls, or at least move them, there’d be enough space for another small bedroom. When he’d gotten things the way he liked, and wanted, he’d become set that that was how they should stay. Now he had the urge to make a second bedroom from that lost space and maybe replan his bathroom.

  Coran copped the full version of his rambling. The fae assured him that many, many people felt the need to ensure things were perfect before giving birth. Lance only crying harder as none of his friends got it and he wanted his Mami. Then Veronica had replied to the photos, asking how his life was, and he’d felt lost all over again. Right now he felt like he needed someone to hold his hand, yet Keith couldn’t do crowds and he couldn’t fight the feelings of need to get things done any longer.

    Parking in front of the hardware store, Curtis let out a sigh. They’d barely talked since Coran had volunteered Curtis to go with him on his errands. Lance too preoccupied in his wallowing as he drove. Cutting the ignition and looking to Curtis, Lance let out a sigh of his own

“I know”

“He seemed pretty upset”

“Yep”

Then again, Lance had been too. He’d wished Keith was there to rub his stomach as he threw up, yet his stupid ego was all bent out of shape over their werewolf not seeming to care about how much stress he was under not having the nursery done

“Should I ask?”

  Without the curse Curtis had free reign to ask as he pleased in his own words. Lance almost missed him blurting things out

“It’s ego stuff. Like I’m all panicked over the nursery and right now I need to settle my ego before I can calm down”

“Ah”

“Pretty much. I know he’s going to be pissed, but I can’t keep waiting for things to fall into line. It scares me. The idea of the nursery not being ready in time”

“I’m sorry...”

Lance shook his head. He shouldn’t have worded it that way. He didn’t blame Curtis. He blamed life

“You have nothing to apologise for. That was the demon acting out. I could have fixed it ages ago, but everything’s been so busy. I did a click and collect order, so all we have to do is the collect bit”

“Are you going to come in?”

  What else was he going to do? He knew he upset Keith by leaving him with Shiro and Krolia, especially on the back of dragging his boyfriend out of bed, but today was a day for errands and Keith couldn’t handle crowds. No. He didn’t particularly want to go in, yet he didn’t have much choice if he wanted to get things done

“I know we’re close in looks, but I can handle this much”

Curtis sighed, Lance knowing he deserved it

“Should I ask why you haven’t talked to Keith about this?”

“Dude, if you want to ask me stuff, you don’t need to ask my permission first. As for Keith, it’s a bit... yeah. He’s still going through a lot, but he just doesn’t seem to get how much I need to get this done”

“I’m being a pain, aren’t I?”

  Today seemed to be his day for upsetting people. He couldn’t cope with that on top of everything on his list. Better to nip it in the bud before it went further

“No. You’re not. I’m grateful you agreed to helping me out, even if I hijacked your plan. I’m just being impatient”

“I didn’t have any plans. Shiro keeps making me rest. If it’s not therapy with Coran, then it’s home at the apartment. He got upset when I dared to bring paperwork home so I’d have something to do”

  Curtis had mentioned before that he wasn’t really coping. Lance could see why Shiro wouldn’t want him pushing himself, still, he knew how annoying it was to be left with your thoughts

“He had a huge scare. The whole floor was filled with energy from the demon. He’s probably trying to overcompensate seeing how long it took for you to recover from the summoning”

“It’s nothing compared to what Keith went through”

  Curtis sounded hurt at the memory. Lance was going to have to drive it into his brain that he wasn’t to blame even if it killed him

“What Keith went through isn’t your fault. With how many times he’s hit his head, no one could have predicted that happening. He’s getting there. He’s been super clingy lately, you should have seen him the other day, give him head pats and everything is forgiven. I suppose Shiro would have told you he had a freak out, but even then, he was mainly scared for Hunk than for himself. I did kind of tell him we had errands, and didn’t exactly tell him I was leaving him at VOLTRON... besides, he needs to socialise. He can’t stay at home forever. VOLTRON was the safest and best option, and it gives me a bit of a breather”

Curtis arched an eyebrow, tone teasing as he replied

“So you left him at werewolf day care. Not even a parent yet and you’re sending your kids away”

  Rolling his eyes at Curtis, Lance then punch him lightly on the arm

“It’s not “day care”. It’s “werewolf care”. Besides, Keith will tell you himself that he’s not a kid”

“Yes. I heard about that. Shiro was lamenting over how much Keith has grown. Don’t tell Keith, but I think Shiro misses being the cooler older brother”

Shiro was cool in his own head. Lance wasn’t about to start bagging Shiro over things, he would have preferred not to be talking about Shiro yet he’d been the one to go there

“Shiro’s still his brother, but I don’t know about the cool bit. I have a sneaking suspicion he’s just as lame as I am. And if you think about it, Keith’s going to slow down aging now he’s turned. He’s always going to be the older brother, even when he’s all old and wrinkly”

“He still misses Keith”

  Well there was nothing Lance could do about that. Keith was free to go to Shiro if he wanted to. Heck, he’d even free up space for Curtis and Shiro if they needed brother time that badly

“You guys still welcome any time. I know we’re leaving before you are, but that’s because we need some us time”

“I know. It’s hard being in the middle”

“That’s like the last thing I wanted. It really is. I know Shiro is important to Keith, and I don’t want Shiro to feel like he can’t reach out to Keith. Keith just... he really thinks he’s not improving fast enough. I know everyone leapt to my side and I hate that. I’m kind of hoping the four of us can reconnect while we’re away, without the outside interference of the others”

“I’m honestly looking forward to that too. It’s been so long since I was human that even the simple things seem way more interesting than they were”

“I wish I could say I got that. All I’ve got is death. Anyway, I’ve booked your room next to ours. The towns so small they only have one hotel, so there wasn’t a whole lot of options”

Curtis nodded, finally undoing his seatbelt

“Want to make a bet about which one is going to be clingier when we get back?”

Lance wasn’t taking money that easily from a friend

“Oh, no. I already know that’s going to be Keith. You should see him. I feel like he tolerated me playing with his hair before, but now he can’t get enough of it. I caught him drooling the other day when I was playing with his hair”

“I kind of want to see that”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll get the chance. Ugh. Now to go people”

“If you want me to go...”

Lance shook his head firmly

“No. It’s okay, but don’t think I’m not treating you to lunch for coming out with me”

“I’m down for that”

    What Keith didn’t know, other than the fact he’d seemed to zone out while Lance was telling him about the errands, was that the vampire had ordered new clothes while he was shopping. As well as a little something he was pretty confident that Keith would like, though that surprise had nothing to do with the reason he’d left Keith behind. He’d prepared himself for most of their time alone together to be in the hotel room, and with the amount of stress he was putting himself through, he didn’t feel as sexy as Keith seemed to find him. He wanted to look good for Keith. He wanted to feel good about his body, though it was hard when he felt like a fat lump every time he’d sit down after a shower and stare down at all this extra “him” that hadn’t been there before. So aside from the hardware store, they also made two other stops, then a third unplanned stop when his ego wouldn’t shut up. At their third stop he’d tried to call Keith, only for the call to go unanswered... as did the next two calls.

  Everything in the nursery was supposed to be chosen by the pair of them, but Lance couldn’t let go of wanting a chair for the nursery, as Curtis had been subjected too in the form of deep signs whenever they passed a furniture store. He couldn’t let go of the desire to have it organised. The chair was almost as important to him as the cots they’d chosen. He wanted a chair for feeding the twins, and a chair where he’d be able to sit and read bedtime stories to the pair of them. The kind of chair where they’d be able to sit on his lap, for snuggles and turning the pages of the pictures books with him. Keith might not get how much that meant to him, but as the youngest of the family, stray furniture had seemed to end up in his room. He could remember in Cuba the chair his Mami would use for the same reason, and god knew how much he wished he knew what had happened to it. So far none of the chairs they’d passed were that chair, though that might be him putting too much thought into picking one. He’d kind of been a bit vocal about the ones he didn’t like, with his tastes clashing against Curtis’s suggestions. This whole mess was why he needed Keith to see. To choose with him. That his boyfriend wouldn’t answer his calls left him with silent tears over his own stupidity.

  Seeing how dejected he was that Keith hadn’t answered, Curtis took Lance’s hand in his, drawing more than a few stares over the sudden seemingly intimacy between the pair. He’d heard the sales staff sighing the moment they laid eyes on him. The weather was warm and sunny, he must have looked like some kind of addict with the way he’d bundled up. Lance had dressed with getting things done in mind. His beanie covered his short hair. The scarf around his neck his his Adam’s apple, he’d chosen a long sleeve black shirt that made his tiny tits annoyingly obvious under a heavy winter jacket that had long passed the point of being able to button, and anything he had to say he kept clipped. If he couldn’t hide being pregnant he could only go with the flow. Even if going with the flow led to very curious looks. Curtis had been by his side, but with their looks people wrongly assumed them family rather than potential lovers, now they seemed to be going off script.

  “Babe, what do you think of this one?”

Asking loudly, Lance didn’t know what to make of this sudden change in his friend. Especially in the face of the absolutely hideous chair in front of them

“You can’t be serious”

“Why not?”

It was pink with gold trim, the fabric fake leather and horrendous. The shape was all wrong for cuddling in. Plus, it was a massage chair and he didn’t want something they’d have to plug in. It was absolutely not what he wanted

“It’s awful”

Placing his hand over Lance’s arm, Curtis smiled creepily at him

“Why don’t we test it out?”

“What? Okay. What are you doing?”

Curtis leaned in to whisper

“There’s two sales people of there who haven’t stopped staring at us. Keith’s not here, so why not have a little fun”

  What the heck was he supposed to do with that? They were staring and now seemed almost scandalised to hear Curtis call him “babe” loudly. Neither of them seemed keen on approaching, and the signs clearly said not to sit on the chairs. Even if they were snooty, he didn’t really want to pick a fight

“I don’t know...”

“Here, come sit down”

Sitting down as he was told, Lance was sceptical over things. Curtis moving to place his hands on the top of the chair, the thing started moving beneath him, despite not being plugged in

“What the hell?!”

Curtis laughed, Lance tilting his head back to look up at him

“Are you doing this?!”

Curtis gave a wink and a shrug

“It seems the electrical thing kind of stuck. I reckon there’s at least half an hour’s worth of power in here now”

  Him sitting seemed to work as a magical beacon to summon one of the workers over. Lance wasn’t particularly in a shit stirring mood, yet the scowl on their face annoyed him. They probably had to deal with the same thing over and over

“Ma’am, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you not to sit in the chairs. We have plastic slips if you’d like to try the feel of them”

His ego flared at “ma’am”. He wasn’t a “ma’am”. He didn’t look old enough for a starters and the plumbing situation was all wrong. The way she spoke...

“Oh, we’re so sorry. You see, my darling honey here is heavily pregnant with twins. I suggested it”

The worker turned their scowl to Curtis. Curtis had managed to sound apologetic enough, but there was just something in the way the woman set her lips that pissed him off

“I’m afraid I can’t bend the rules, sir. Not even for... pregnant customers. Street clothes carry many contaminants that may ruin the fabric, and there’s your condition to think of”

Lance found that instantly rude. Pregnancy wasn’t a disease to be caught. Sugar sweet he batted his eyelashes at Curtis

“Honey, we best do as the woman says”

“Are you sure? You had your heart set on getting a chair today”

“This one gives such a horrible massage. Will you please help me up”

Lance added a pout for good measure, Curtis “hurrying” around to take his hand and help him stand

“We obviously can’t buy a chair that hurts your back. You need to be careful with your body, you know what the doctor said”

  Watching the pair of them, Lance schooled his face as he stared at the sales woman who was now staring at him as if he were dumb

“This particular model isn’t currently plugged in. We do have similar models if you’d...”

Letting Curtis tug him slightly sideways, the movements of the massage chair stalled the sales woman’s words. The cord neatly wound around the lever to turn the chair into a recliner, very clearly not plugged in, despite the fact the chair was currently moving. Turning his head, Lance widened his eyes in fake alarm

“It’s not plugged in!”

The sales woman had no words. Lance didn’t particularly like picking on retail staff, yet he had to bite his lip from laughing at the expression on her face. Utter disbelief

“I don’t think I can shop at a store where the staff don’t know their products. This obviously dangerous. I’m so sorry. If anything were to happen to you, I’d never be able to explain to your boyfriend”

“Oh hush, you. He never has to know.”

“I know, but we can’t allow him to get too suspicious. I shudder to think if he knew I was here with you now”

“He certain is the jealous type. Perhaps we can find a chair that’s easier to clean”

  The woman’s face seemed to go through a range of expression before the colour drained. The way she twitched, she seemed ready to run to her colleagues and spill the scandal she’d been exposed to. That was until her eyes focused on the moving chair again

“Excuse me, ma’am. We’re looking for a chair suitable for a nursery. Do you happen to have something like that there”

God. The way Curtis said “ma’am” seemed to sum up all Lance’s feelings over being called “ma’am”

“Let’s go. I don’t know if I can trust haunted chairs in my house”

Plus the prices were killer. The only reason they’d come to the store was because it was across from where there’d gotten lunch. He liked his usual furniture store better

“It must be possessed by the ghost of customer service past. I guess we won’t be needing your help today. Come on, honey, we should get you home soon”

  Leading Lance away, Curtis kept his hand in his, giving the staff a little wave as the woman called out for some person named “Greg”. He felt a little shitty, until he was outside and found himself laughing far so hard he was nearly peeing himself in public. He’d never thought Curtis had that in him. He’d been so down that Keith hadn’t answered, and then Curtis went and did this

“Oh my god. You’re horrible”

“I saw them looking as we walked in”

“God. How long do you think they’re going to be puzzling over this?”

“No clue. Maybe next time they won’t be so judgmental?”

“Or maybe they’re going to be even scareder of pregnant people?”

Scareder wasn’t a word, yet he couldn’t English out the right word

“I wonder if I do a drive by later tonight, if that chair’s going to be out the back by the dumpsters?”

“It deserves to be. It’s horrendous”

  Curtis nodded, tugging on his arm to lead him further from the door. Inside the staff were kind of freaking out over the chair, seemingly trying to explain things by blaming it on some kind of short

“Come on, we should go before they pull out the priests and pitchforks”

“I’m terrified. Maybe we should go to church?”

“I don’t know about you, but I haven’t been in a church since having the demon summoned out. Can you imagine if we both burst into flame? We’d be posted back to our boyfriends in match boxes”

  There was no reason to find that hilarious. Lance wheezing now, legs pressed together. Being with Curtis was dangerous to health of his bladder.

  On the back of the fit of laughter, Lance surrendered his keys. Curtis forced to find the first fast food restaurant so he could go clean up in the bathroom. This peeing this was rough. He felt as if something as simple as swallowing saliva seemed to mean he had to pee it back out moments later. Still, he’d needed that laugh so damn badly. They’d never be able to show their faces in that store as long as they both lived, but it was kind of worth it. His ego stopped him feeling guilty for his and Curtis’s juvenile behaviour. They hadn’t actually physically harmed anyone, only given them a slight scare, a new work rumour to gossip over, and hopefully made them think twice over being so judgmental... even if it meant no chair. That thought sobering his lingering laughter completely. He... really... couldn’t chose a chair without Keith, no matter how kind Curtis was being. They’d have to go pick him up, and hope like heck they’d find something soon, or Keith would be forced to take home a very cranky vampire on top of having been forced to spend the day in “werewolf care”.

[idthellyeah-blog]

A totally timely and significant review of Rancid’s “...And Out Come The Wolves”

(I honestly don’t remember when I wrote this, maybe 2015. Definitely just got jacked up on something and decided that I needed to write a track by track review of an album I loved when I was a cool punk teen. It has just been sitting in my Google Drive patiently waiting to be posted.)

 I remember the first time I ever heard/saw Rancid was when the video for “Salvation” off of their second album “Let’s Go” premiered on MTV. Such an 80’s/90’s kid thing to do, discovering a new band by seeing a music video on TV, ugh. I thought the leather clad mohawked bad boys were amazing and perfect and so cool...that I immediately tried to spike my hair using gelatin (tru punx only) and got a leather jacket (did not look that cool and was very sweaty).  When “...And Out Come The Wolves” came out the next year (1995, I’m old AF) I was totally enamored and had found my #1 favorite album of all time (that lasted for like a year until music got better).  I was supposed to go see Rancid at a big show in Omaha, I lived in a small town called Columbus that was roughly 90 minutes away from the big city...but the day of my mom didn’t let me go because I had bad math grades.  I reacted the way any entitled white teen did, by laying in the garage and crying and playing their album.  That show wound up being a huge to-do when fans tore up seats in the venue and threw cushions at the band leading to Rancid not playing Omaha for a long time.  I missed out on some cool bad-ass punk rock shit, first world problems. Fast forward to today when I decided that I, Ian Douglas Terry, needed to write out a song-by-song review of this quintessential punk album.  I’m a real music nut, and obviously very good at structured writing...so here we go!  (Rock on)

1. Maxwell Murder - Oh boy, this one starts with like a subway train sound and then the beginning of a killer/complicated Matt Freeman bass line.  That dude SHREDS the bass, and even has a wild solo in this song.  That’s tight.  Why did they stop letting him sing?  He sounded like a fun Muppet on their first album and I loved his songs.  Maybe he wanted to focus on just shredding the bass and using tons of pomade.

2. The 11th Hour - This song is great.  It is poppy and upbeat and about a woman having dreams and demanding answers.  Hell yeah.  I love good punk music that supports women and feminism and figuring out where the power lies (spoiler alert, it starts and ends with you).  Remember how Brody from The Distillers left Tim Armstrong for the dude from Queens of the Stone Age? And then he got all fat and got a beard?  I can completely relate to that, and have been there sans beard.

3. Roots Radicals - This song RULES.  I had to look up what “Moonstompers” were and who “Desmond Dekker” was.  I remember trying to relate to this like it could somehow compare to living in a town with 20,000 people and the nicest Wal-Mart in the tri-county area.  Remember how there was that Spanish language cover of this on one of those “Give Em The Boot” comps that Hellcat put out? That was real tight.

4. Time Bomb - Hit single baby!  This had a huge hand in getting punk kids into reggae/ska for sure.  Killer organ solo, lots of rude boy shit going, I loved it so much.  Tim Armstrong totally re-used lyrics from the song “Motorcycle Ride” from the previous album...which is hilarious.  Like c’mon dawg...you should know your own lyrics.  I learned how to do the solo from this and felt like a guitar god (it is a very easy solo, like almost too easy).

5. Olympia, WA - I love songs like this that are about cities that the band isn’t from...so you have to fire up your imagination (or just read the lyrics) and be like, “What went down in Olympia, Washington????”.  Turns out it was mostly hanging out on different streets in New York and playing pinball with Puerto Ricans while wishing you were with a person who you were sleeping with in Washington.  Hell yeah, just like Shakespeare.

6. Lock, Step & Gone - Songs about docks were HUGE in my youth.  Dropkick Murphy’s had like eight songs about boys on them, and this Rancid song alludes to them.  I loved all of the blue collar, working class ideology that had nothing to remotely do with my comfortable upper middle class (not sure if that’s accurate because my parents were teachers, and like is there even a middle class any more?) life. This song definitely sums itself up at then end when it says “There’s a whole lot of nothin”.

7. Junky Man - Another theme that I could definitely relate to in a town of 20,000 people with like ten people who did meth...Junkies!  This song is pretty great because the dude from the Basketball Diaries does some sick poetry in it...that movie was nuts.  I like that song that he later wrote/sang about all the people he knew who died. The only way poetry can be cool is if the person is an insane drug addict with cool/sad stories to tell. Otherwise it is just loud diary reading.

8. Listed MIA - At this point I wholeheartedly agree with this song, “I’m checking out”.  I don’t know if I ever really liked this song or if this was just part of the “I accidentally left it playing after the first four songs that I liked were over”.  Lars says the derogatory f-word for homosexuals in it, because people called him that word...that doesn’t seem cool man.  I get that it rhymes with “maggots”, but maybe give white dudes in the Midwest less reasons to sing that word out loud.

9. Ruby Soho - This is one of the best songs ever, hands down.  It is beautiful and you can barely understand what Tim Armstrong is saying but it is wonderful.  I feel like deciphering his lyrics led me to be able to understand most speech impediments, so hell yeah.  This song is about loving someone a lot but having to leave them because it isn’t working out. This song was the blueprint for every romantic relationship I’ve ever had in my entire life so it might be a gypsy curse.

10. Daly City Train - Oh hell yeah, fun Reggae drums!  Through punk and ska I grew to appreciate Reggae, but through being bummed out about that culture’s deep seated homophobia and the fact that most of it is super repetitive and boring and for dad’s on vacation.  I’m just glad that 311 taught me to love those smooth Caribbean sounds again (oh god am I joking or am I serious, I can’t tell any more please save me).

11. Journey to the End of the Easy Bay - I can still play this bass line and was very proud of myself the first time I half-way pulled it off.  It doesn’t sound as smooth and nuanced as the way Matt Freeman plays it, but goddamn it I think that was the height of my skill as a musician.  This song rules themes about needing to belong and finding a place with people who thought and felt the same as you...and then losing it as everyone grows out of it.  This was most of my early 20’s. I grew up in a scene with similarly minded people, it eventually ended and I still have contact with some of those people but that point in my life will never be replicated. I finally belonged somewhere and was part of something bigger than me.  Now I do comedy and it is bleak, entitled, and sad and mostly alcoholics talking about their dicks.  Please take me back.

12. She’s Automatic - This is not a bad song but a very confusing way to describe a woman.  I get that it means she is effortless in “the way that she moves” but maybe I’m not giving Lars any poetic license because he looks like a guy who punched books. This woman sounds great though, and I’m sure they dated for three months.  Revisiting this and that era reminds me that I almost had sex with a girl at the first X-men movie...man, being punk ruled.

13. Old Friend - Back to the Raggae!  This song is pretty great, but they really missed an opportunity of selling this to a heartburn medicine company.  “Good morning heartache, you’re like an old friend come and see me again”...that would be perfect for a commercial of a guy eating a giant plate of lasagna and making a “Oh boy, I did it again!” face.  The Transplants sold a song to that fruit shampoo, maybe this is something I can retroactively help negotiate.

14. Disorder and Disarray -  I love when punk bands have songs about “business men” being evil and the industry being bad.  Like when Against Me were part of an Anarchist collective and then on a major label putting out really bad music.  Rancid was at least on Epitaph, which while arguably not “cool” it was at least run by a kind of punk dude who is responsible for the biggest/shittiest corporate garbage of a festival, The Warped Tour.  This song has a part towards the end where they talk to each other like David Lee Roth would do in Van Halen songs, that rules.

15. The Wars End - I get that this is a song about little Sammy being a punk rocker but at this point I think they should have admitted this album was fine with 10-12 songs and maybe some of these were super repetitive and unnecessary.  It's like you’re forcing it. I can’t imagine the dude who recorded it had a lot of fun and he probably fell asleep and was startled awake and had to pretend like he’d been paying attention the whole time.

16. You Don’t Care Nothin - This starts out with the exact chord progression from Journey To The End Of The East Bay….c’mon guys. You Don’t Care Nothin about being succinct and making your songs individual expressions of art! The themes even seem like something they’ve already gone over.  I’m going to eat some soup, brb.

17. As Wicked - Is this a different song or a weird breakdown?  Oh, it’s a different song.  Well...this soup is pretty good.  Chicken Noodle, but the chunky kind.  It isn’t amazing but it is good. I should really cook more.  Maybe I’ll order Chinese later.

18. Avenues & Alleyways - I don’t really have a problem with this song because it has the “Oi oi oi” chant that the bands I was in during High School would do and we had no idea why other than popular bands doing it.  It is very catchy.  It sounds like the other two songs were just building up to finally getting your attention back. Plus it has a breakdown with people clapping, that is always fun.  This has to be the last song right? It is the perfect last song on an album!

19. The Way I Feel -  FUUUUUUUCK!  What? Really should have ended the album on that last song, it had a good “anthem” vibe and at least wrapped this up into a somewhat sensible endeavor.  This song could have been stuck in the middle somewhere, or maybe just not recorded with about seven others?  The Way I Feel about this album is that there are some parts that hold up and are still fun to listen to, but the rest of it just seems like I’m being forced to read my own teenage diary and it is boring and sad. Nostalgia is a bummer, I can’t imagine having Rancid still be my favorite band.  I’d probably still wear a chain wallet and spiky bracelet and be one of those obnoxious old drunk weirdos I see at shows that stick out like crazy sore thumbs. Bummer dude.

    Oh wow, what a journey (to the end of the east bay, am I right?)...I’m glad I was finally able to get this review out so people could finally know what this album means to me and my generation of lazy weirdos. This took me six months to write and I should be congratulated for being a journalist with tons of integrity and great taste.  True punks never die, they just eventually chill out and shop at Kohl’s.

[emybain]

Renegades Titanic AU Part 7

much shorter than the last update (and written on 4 hours of sleep at midnight), but I felt like the ending was a good stopping point for the part. the next update (which will hopefully be out by the end of the weekend!) should be a lot more interesting;). also the part title is a direct quote from the movie, and its only there because I couldn't find a spot for it here:(((

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Part 7: “We’re Women. Our choices are never easy.”

Nova leaned over the tiny sink in her cabin and splashed water onto her face. Judging from the light streaming into the window over the sink, she guessed it was mid morning. She had just woken up after a sleepless night, and found the room to be empty; she guessed the others were still at breakfast. 

Her head was pounding, throat on fire. When she had returned to the cabin the night before, exhausted and cold, she all but tore her dress off (with difficulty, of course) and fell into bed. While she was asleep nearly instantly, she woke up in the middle of the night drenched in sweat after dreaming of her family again. This was nothing new; she had been having nightmares about them and their deaths since the night she witnessed their murders over ten years ago. She had hated sleeping since, and rarely got any to begin with. It was a miracle that she hadn’t dropped dead yet of exhaustion, but she had gotten used to a two-to-four-hour-at-most sleep schedule, and was more than fine with it. Anything to keep from seeing her mother and father and sister being shot again. 

Her dress from the night before, which she vaguely remember throwing onto the floor before passing out, was now neatly laid out and smoothed over on Honey’s well made bed. Nova rolled her eyes. She was sure Honey had gushed over it upon waking up and seeing it at the foot of her bed. Adrian had said the night before that Ruby would probably let Nova keep the dress, but Nova had a feeling that Honey wouldn’t let her return it anyway. Nevermind that Honey wouldn’t be able to fit into the same small frame that both Nova and Ruby had. 

Nova was about to head out to find the others when the door opened, revealing Ingrid. She did a once over of Nova before reaching for her coat that rested on top of her bed, which was above Leroy’s. 

“Good. You’re up. Honey wants to take a walk around the deck and I’m not going alone. She should be back in a minute with Leroy so get your things.” 

Nova ran a hand through her hair, blinking. “Actually, I had other plans.” She didn’t, but she would rather not be around Honey or Ingrid, especially Ingrid, at the moment. 

Ingrid raised an eyebrow. “Like what? Go meet up with your little boyfriend? Didn’t you two get enough of one another last night at the party?” Upon seeing Nova’s confused face, Ingrid rolled her eyes. “I’m not an idiot, little Nightmare. I know you where you were last night, and it certainly wasn’t just the dinner in first class. How was that, by the way? I was expecting a bread roll when you returned, but you got back so late.” There was an uncomforting edge to Ingrid’s tone, close to a snap, yet disguised as attempting cheerful. 

Nova crossed her arms. “You followed me, is that what I’m hearing?” She let out a huff. “Can’t say I’m surprised.”

“You will not behave that way again, Nova. Do you understand?” Ingrid dropped her façade, lowering her voice and becoming serious. “We have one job, and we can’t have you willingly jumping into the beds of our enemies unless it is for information. Although I think it’s pretty obvious last night was a waste, correct?”

    “I’m not one of your explosives that you create and control, Ingrid.” Nova tilted her chin up, despite feeling her cheeks warm. She had not been in anyone’s bed last night other than her own, but she wasn’t about to tell Ingrid this; Ingrid was just trying to goad her into breaking. “I’m Ace Anarchy’s niece, and you can’t tell me what I can and cannot do.”

    “Ace Anarchy’s niece?” Ingrid huffed, then raised her voice, stepping closer to Nova. “Ace Anarchy’s niece? Yes you are, Nova Artino, and your job is to get him out of prison and put us in power again!” She pushed Nova back, causing her to stumble and fall over Leroy’s suitcase that was laying on the floor and wide open. Pain immediately erupted in her ankle, although Nova was too frozen to recognize it. Ingrid kicked the suitcase aside and got up in Nova’s face. “You may be his niece but I have followed him for a lot longer than you have, and I at least know where my loyalties lie!” She lowered her voice, although the anger didn’t leave her eyes. “I will not be made a fool, Nova. Is this in any way unclear?” When Nova shook her head quickly, unable to form a coherent word, Ingrid nodded and stepped away. “Good.”

    At that moment, Honey and Leroy walked in. Nova scurried up, ignoring the pain that shot through her ankle. Honey gasped in excitement and clapped her hands together. 

    “Oh, Nova, darling, you’re awake! Good, good! Come, tell us all about your handsome boy toy on our walk!” Nova took one glance at Honey, readjusted her button down, and glared at Ingrid. 

    “Actually, I was just heading out. Alone.” She pushed past the three of them, eyes trained on the ground. Ingrid’s cold hand closed around her wrist before she could open the door. 

    “You are not to see that boy again, unless we know of it. Do you understand?” When Nova didn’t respond, the grip on her wrist tightened. “Nova. I forbid it.”

    “Oh, stop it, Ingrid, before you give yourself a nosebleed.” Nova sneered up at the older woman. Not a second later, Nova’s hand was holding her cheek, tears brimming in her eyes. She barely registered that Ingrid had just slapped her. 

    “Ingrid Thompson!” Leroy snapped, reaching out to pull the woman back, but she pushed him away. Soft hands wrapped around Nova’s face and pried Nova’s hand away to examine the blow. Honey. 

    Only half aware of what she was doing, and how she was doing it, Nova managed to open the door and rush out into the hall. She took long strides, not daring to look back, even as Ingrid yelled at her. People sidestepped her, backing up against the wall to avoid being hit. 

    “This is not a game, Artino! Stop being so selfish!”

__________

Adrian wasn’t sure how he managed to slip away.

They had been given a private tour of the ship that morning by none other than Thomas Andrews, the architect in charge of the design of the Titanic, himself. They had even held a conversation with the captain of the ship, who had been in good spirits and held pride in commanding such a vessel. 

After the gym, however, Adrian was thoroughly bored. He could tell Oscar, Danna, and Ruby were as well, based on their expressions. 

His thoughts wandered to Nova, who he had undoubtedly tried to kiss not twenty-four hours ago and was undoubtedly rejected by her. He had been sure, so sure, in fact, that she felt the same hammering in her chest as he did whenever they were around one another. That perhaps being near him sent chills up her arms like it did with him. This attraction, especially to her, of all people, was foreign to Adrian. He was certain he had never felt so drawn to another person before in his life. It was unsettling yet comforting at the same time. If only she felt the same as he did. 

“You want to see her, don’t you.” Adrian looked over at Oscar at his side, who had his relaxed, crooked smile on his face. 

“It’s obvious he does,” Ruby said from in front of them. She and Danna were in front of the two boys, arm in arm. They slowed down to walk with the boys, but still stayed in front of them. They were on the deck of the ship beside the lifeboats, which took up the majority of the deck space on that part of the ship, forcing the touring group to walk no more than two wide. “He’s been distracted ever since breakfast.”

Oscar snorted. “Try since waking up. He’s been practically ignoring me all morning.” 

“I’m right here, you guys.” Adrian rolled his eyes, brushing off their teasing. “And no, Ruby. Would I want to see her? That’s ridiculous.”

“She never said a name,” Danna deadpanned, side-eyeing Adrian with the tiniest of smiles. “You’re hopeless, really. If you wanted to go smooch-up your new lover, you should’ve just said something.” With that she unwrapped her arm from Ruby’s and sped up. “Mr. Andrews!” she called out, in what she liked to refer to as her ‘I’m not up to anything’ voice. 

Adrian reached out to stop her, but she was too quick. Mr. Andrews turned, breaking off whatever topic he had been discussing with Evander Wade. The rest of the group turned to her as well. 

“Forgive me,” Danna smiled apologetically, “but I did the sum in my head, and with the number of lifeboats times the capacity you mentioned earlier,” she paused, pursing her lips, “forgive me, but it seems that there are not enough for everyone aboard.” Even Hugh, a nearly unimpressible man, blinked.

“About half, actually.” Mr. Andrews chuckled. It hadn’t been the first time that Danna had interrupted the tour to ask questions, and Adrian could tell Mr. Andrews was thrilled by her curiosity, seeing as she was the only person displaying any interest in his realm of expertise. “You miss nothing, do you, Miss Danna?” He then went into a long explanation as to why there were so little lifeboats on such a massive ship, Danna listening intently to every word. 

Adrian would have just stood there, watching the pair until Danna was satisfied with an answer and returned to her friends, but Oscar nudged him and nodded behind them, as if beckoning him to leave. Adrian shook his head, frowning. He couldn’t just disappear and not have someone ask of his whereabouts. 

“For all that is good in this world, just go!” Ruby hissed, huffing dramatically and using all of her strength to push Adrian. “We’ll cover for you, say you weren’t feeling well or something but didn’t want to interrupt.”

Adrian opened his mouth to protest, but she silenced him. Truthfully, he wanted to speak to Nova, at least clear things up between them so that they wouldn’t have to part with her thinking poorly of his character; he had to at least apologize for his actions the night before. 

Surely his parents wouldn’t suspect too much.

[crwndsprkzy]

Damon Hugh’s Diary

30/1/2021 9:30 pm

I’m Damon Hugh. I’m 16 and am in year 10 in high school. I am a boy who likes to draw, paint and listen to MCR and P!ATD. My favourite colour is dark purple. I’m an absolute loner: no friends, no life, ignored by everyone unless they’re bullying me.

At least this diary I got (stole) from my (someone else’s) school supplies will listen to me.

 15/2/2021 10:30 am

I’ve been at school for less than two hours now (I arrived late). It’s a normal school day so far, regular boring classes, all that jazz. But I can’t help but feel like someone is watching me, like intensely. Meh, not likely though, I’m really uninteresting. I mean, yeah sure, I “befriended” that popular Mia Talune, but I’m not liked by anyone. Oh well, at least science is finishing soon.

 15/2/2021 11:03 am

Not a normal day any more. That Heath Forest guy who bullies me? I found him dead outside the main building. Stabbed in the chest and abdomen. Yeah no, first on the scene on accident equals not fun! So I called the police then rushed to find a teacher. It wasn’t that hard (the main building, duh). But now people think that I killed him! Which I definitely did not! As if the bullying about the heterochromia, me being ace, my height, the fact that I’m a guy who’s artsy and having anxiety wasn’t enough.

Whatever. But still, now I’m wondering who killed Heath? I’m not torn up about it since I don’t like anyone here, I just want to know why someone actually had something against him. He was only mean to me after all...

 15/2/2021 2:30 pm

Yeah no, I’m getting weird vibes from this girl in my class. She keeps staring at me with this glazed look. Her name is Bianca Cornwel (only found that out through the roll) and to be honest, that last name is atrocious. 

There’s been questioning taking place all day because of the cops, and my class has been talking non-stop about it. I have noticed whenever anyone brings up that it was me, the class prez, Rory Dee, gets very defensive and brings up that it couldn’t be me (a few points he made were hurtful: “He’s too weak to do something like this”). He also seems to turn his head from his front seat and glare at Bianca.

 15/2/2021 10:37 pm

A quick sum-up of today:

-woke up

-went to school late

-had to sit through science 

-found the dead body of a regular bully 

-got accused all day (for the murder)

-was stared at by a girl (every lesson)

-was defended by the class president (why?)

-was questioned twice by the police 

-went home 

-wrote this instead of sleeping

 16/2/2021 2:48 am

I was woken up by my phone. It’s a news story. I only really get notifications from the news (I’m a loner) so this is regular.

So I had a look at it and the headline reads: “16-year old’s body found dumped in a sewer”. Ew.

Oh. The murdered teen was Tanisha Andre, a girl in my class.

 Something’s up.

 16/2/2021 8:55 am

I got to school on time. My problem now is that I don’t have an alibi as I did for Heath. Hopefully Class Presi-Dump has something to defend me with. Clearly he will. I mean, he’s perfect in every way! He’s good at everything, popular, a high achiever, kind blue eyes, lightly tanned skin, fluffy looking golden blonde hair, cute little freckles around his nose and cheeks, his pearly white smile, his smooth voice that’s perfect for singing, the fact that he smiles softly at the people who he passes, his laugh; he’s just perfect. I mean, prince charming 2.0 much. 

But still, why is he defending me of all people? We’re polar opposites! He’s tall, I’m short. He's popular, I'm a loner. He's class president, I'm assumed to be a murderer. He's brave and strong, I'm shy and weak. He listens to pop music, I listen to emo music.

It is a bit refreshing now that Bianca isn’t staring at me, but now Palace Tucker (one of the chicks that hang around The Mythic B***h Mia) has been glaring at me ever since I arrived today.

I wonder if there’ll be questioning today following Tanisha’s death?

  16/2/2021 12:30 pm

President Perfect did defend me, as I expected. 

I have noticed that after Palace left Maths class, Bianca followed after her. So far Bianca has come back, but Palace has not.

Yeah, I don’t trust Bianca. I mean, that’s a given considering she’s always watching me. I’m in the middle of the class and she’s at the back, so she can stare at me without suspicion. Which is REALLY uncomfortable! But I’m not going to tell the teacher, duh, debilitating social anxiety.

 16/2/2021 1:35 pm

I found a hall-pass on the ground. It's one for Bianca and Palace. It says “mental health break”. I did see them both wandering the edge of the oval when I was in class. It’s a regular route for me at break time, so I’ll see if Palace is out there.

 16/2/2021 1:38 pm

I definitely found Palace. Just drenched in… blood. And stab wounds through her head and her eyes gouged out. That too.

The song I’m listening to (Teenagers-MCR) ABSOLUTELY describes my realisation. My realisation being: Bianca is the killer and because I’m weak, I’m probably next.

And because of Tanisha's death being out of school, I can't hide at home. Hell, since I walk home, practically everyone knows where I live. I would know, a ton of them egg and t-p the house.

What if I encourage dad to get us moved to a city further away? What if we got out of the country? What if I learn how to fly planes and land on a deserted island? What if I went back in time and posed as an artist who sculpted attractive men for the church? What if I got astronaut training early and flew to Pluto?

I don’t know, but my anxiety is worsening just thinking about it. I'm just going to run and scream.

Hopefully they don’t think it was me.

 16/2/2021 2:45 pm

The cops are back and that’s not helping my anxiety. If anyone talks about it again or to me, I'm gonna break down.

 16/2/2021 2:57 pm

The police questioned me alright. But I couldn’t answer any of their questions; non-verbal panic attack. It wasn’t helped by intrusive thoughts about me getting framed, getting killed and being called a liar.

Bianca watched me on the way out and on the way back into the classroom. But so did Rory. He also looked at Bianca.

Has he realised? He's smart, he probably has.

Guess I’ll have fun for the last bit of class by listening to bands.

 16/2/2021 3:51 pm

So Class King didn’t know anything about it. Then what does he have against Bianca? He can’t be glaring for no reason.

I did overhear Callum Jones talking to Bianca about how he's “going to a totally rad party with lots of babes tonight”. Bianca just told him to “stop lying” and that “everyone knows you're going to go home and DM Mia with your 5 different insta accounts”. Oof. There was nothing saying he was lying though. How did she know? 

Oh yeah, Callum was definitely offended by that and took a swing at Bianca, but she was already gone.

 17/2/2021 12:30 pm

I'm not dead yet, but I am going to be soon. I decided to, for whatever reason, talk to Rory about the murders. I could not stop stammering or going quiet for extended periods of time, but when I was talking I asked royal Rory what he thinks of Bianca. I haven’t got a response but I'm slowly dying…

Nobody has died yet today, but I'm absolutely paranoid. I just keep thinking I'm next or that I'm going to be confronted by the football team and they’ll punch me to death. Whenever I think these things, I can practically SMELL the blood. Even when I'm not imagining them I can smell blood.

Wait, what are those red stains on Jules Elvis’ yellow cardigan?

That’s what I've been smelling! Wait, was I wrong about Bianca then? Was it really this eager to please girl who did this?

No, if she was a murderer, she would know how to dissolve blood, or at least know not to wear the clothing worn while committing the crime.

But nobody is noticing Bianca.

 17/2/2021 2:30 pm

The teacher has announced that there has been another body found- Felicity Forest, Heath’s younger sister. They showed a fairly censored version of the security tape to us. It showed a tall girl with brown hair, pale skin and a yellow cardigan on.

Guess who fits that description perfectly? Jules. The blood-stain on the yellow cardigan was pretty telling. Felicity was also Jules’ best friend, so the connection was there.

But Bianca has the exact same cardigan, I've seen her wear it. The tape was early, so she could have easily framed Jules. She was also asking our health teacher how healthy it is to be awake all night.

When the police came in for Jules, she was violently sobbing. She was saying stuff like “I would never!” “I didn’t do it!” “But… I was going to ask her today to be my girlfriend” “I LOVED HER!” “Our friendship bracelets said ‘together forever’!” and more.

I don’t think it was Jules at all. I know it wasn't Jules. 

But I couldn’t speak up, the words got caught in my throat as if a dagger had cut them off.

Sorry Jules…

tags- @fallenfromforgotten @random-artsy-stuf @flowersanddinosaurs (you can request to be added at any time!)

[gotstory]

My 20 Year Old Idol Husband - Day 18 - I’m Fine

20 yr old Jungkook, at the top of his idol boyband career, has a secret only he & his bandmates know – An underground relationship, with you, a girl he met at a fanmeeting. Things get a little out of hand and you find out you’re pregnant.

Read: Day 1 / Day 2 / Day 3 / Day 4 / Day 5 / Day 6 / Day 7 / Day 8 / Day 9 / Day 10 / Day 11 / Day 12 / Day 13 / Day 14 / Day 15 / Day 16 / Day 17 / Day 18 /

It was a normal day for the boys as they shuffled around their studios, practicing or recording.

Namjoon in particular was getting slightly impatient.

(Last night - Namjoon)

"Alot could happen in 3 weeks."

Yoongi frowned, "couldn't she just come with us?"

Instead of waiting for Bang PD to arrive, he decided to drop him a text.

- PD nim, I have been thinking about our previous tours abroad and wondering if we can hire a billingual PR manager to come along with us for the next tour.

The reply was almost instantaneous.

- We have been thinking about it too and have someone in mind. But we found out the agency let her go and we still haven't been able to get in touch.

Namjoon took the chance and pushed for it.

- PD nim if you don't mind, I do have someone to suggest whom we have worked with during the last Europe tour. We can discuss this in detail maybe later today?

As he focused on waiting for the reply, his heart was racing a little.

Why am I being nervous about this? It's not even my girlfriend...

Just then the door of his studio shifted a little and in came Bang PD with a smile.

"Oh! PD nim! Were you already here?" quickly, a wide smile came over him as he stood to greet his boss whom he hadn't seen in some time.

As the older man sank down into the cosy grey sofa and squashed abit of the Van cushion under his weight, he spoke up in a light tone.

"Namjoon-ah, why are you bothering yourself with these matters when I've already got a whole team of staff to look into such things? It's not like you haven't got enough work on your hands."

Namjoon wasn't sure if he was being scolded for being nosy or was Bang PD trying to thank him for going beyond his scope.

He sat down and with a pressed smile, began to put forth some of his plans he had been working out in his head.

"Actually, PD nim, there's this one person we really hope to have along with us..."

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

Back in the agency where you used to be, things were running as usual. But your co-worker and bff, Fan, had been having a hard time coping with other reporters who had no interest in the music events they covered. It was mostly a touch and go approach that left her missing you, her partner in crime, even more. Days were getting tougher and she even entertained the though of leaving altogether since there was hardly anything else to look forward to.

As she packed up her stuff ready to leave for the day, her boss strolled by with a worried look.

"Hey boss, everything fine? You look like you just lost your company."

He smirked tiredly, used to her teasing. "Thankfully not. It's just that one of our Korean counterparts have been asking for Chae-rin and it was a pity I let her go. I don't even have anyone else I could send as a replacement."

At the mention of your name, she entertained some hopes of reuniting with you.

"Then just hire her back and send her over to Korea! You do know she's IN Korea right?"

Surprised at this piece of newly acquired information his brain quickly turns the numbers and realised that it clicked.

"But wait," he said, "didn't she say something about needing to rest for her health?"

Fan quickly brushed it aside, "well yeah but it's been awhile now she's probably fine. Why don't I call her for you just to... You know, see if she fancies something like that? Oh and, which company are we talking about here anyway?"

The boss ponders, "That sounds good, Fan. It's the one.... with Mr Bang and BTS."

Her breath hitches and chokes in surprise as he catches on quickly, "What's wrong? You alright?"

"Oh nothing!" she laughs, "I'm feeling just fine! I'm fine! Yea, definitely, just fine!"

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

I'm feeling just fine, fine fine...

You wake up to the sound of your new BTS alarm, it was your favourite song of the moment after seeing the elaborate choreography and how it was such a comforting yet emotional track. You look around and find a note stuck to your phone. It was neatly written and you recognised Jk's handwriting from the numerous letters he'd written over the last year.

'Noona, (they insisted I be fair and call you that) we won't be back early tonight because of the rehearsals for the tour schedule next week. If you get bored, just get a cab and let me know where you are. The hyungs and I will be at the studio so please have a good rest and eat well. Jin-hyung says he made some soup and the kitchen is yours. Please call us if you run into any trouble at all.

-JK'

Of course, it would be a surprise if these busy idols were mopping around their house in the peak of their career. You weren't even expecting to see them altogether, recalling what a feast it was last night which only showed how long it had been since they could all rest at home together in the same space.

Finally. Some time to explore the city!

You thought to yourself, slowly reading off the messages you ignored since the night before.

There were a stream of pictures and messages from your ex colleagues and friends, as well as a few from Jungkook mainly to check if you were awake yet.

Just then, your phone rang and to your surprise it was Fan. Excitedly you answered it with your croaky morning voice.

- Ahem, ah, ah. Hello!

- Oh gosh, Chaerin, sorry did I wake you up? I didn't check the time difference!

- Don't worry it's noon here. What's up? You hardly call!

- Yeah I know, it's only been like what... Less than a week since you're gone and I'm dying without you.

You laughed at her cutely exaggerated tone which you missed.

- 4 days to be exact. It's only like what, my 3rd day here? It feels like I've been gone forever though. I miss working already.

- Really? How's your... Erm... Body? Has all the... Discomfort worn off?

You pause at her overly cautious choice of words and found it strange.

- Are you with someone?

Fan smiled, knowing how sharp you were.

- Well yes, and I wanted to ask if you really MISSED WORKING WITH US SO MUCH THAT YOU WISHED YOU COULD COME BACK?

Placing deliberate emphasis on the keywords with her back facing the boss, Fan definitely knew what she was doing and wanted you to catch on it.

- You're in the office aren't you... With, let me see... At this hour, wouldn't there only be the boss left? Hang on, are you saying he wants me to come back? Oh come on...

Giving an air punch, Fan was more than excited even though there wasn't even a conclusion.

- Not just me but before you... TURN ME DOWN, I just wanted to know it might be because you're PLANNING TO SETTLE IN KOREA?

- What are you going on about, Fan? You know full well the reason why I was dragged here! of course I have to settle here with... Well, you know who! And eventually I'll have to find a job and---

Quickly, Fan cut her short and put the phone to the boss.

- OKAY OKAY! I got that I got that! Hang on yes yes!

Nervously, he took it and tried to be as casual about it as he could. Unknown to you, there was actually a huge sum of money behind the contractual agreement which BigHit had offered. One that made it harder and harder for him to turn down or ignore. He knew the ball was not in his court and he had to get you back no matter what it took.

After half an hour of lengthy explanations and persuasion, you finally got the full picture.

- So, boss, ah... I mean, erm John, you're telling me the Korean agency we worked with, wants you to post me there as a permanent PR manager for them, while you manage the press at the Europe office, is that it?

- Yes, that's exactly what it is but of course, I'd have to hire you in order for that to happen.

It sounded like a good plan that would help keep your time occupied with income while you got a legitimate work pass to be in Korea as how you needed to. Only thing was letting them know, you'd soon be needing to use some maternity leave and that could potentially cause issues.

- But there are so many PR managers in Korea, why us and why me in particular?

- Beats me! but I know you've always outshone in your abilities and it doesn't surprise me if you were headhunted directly by them. It's just that they probably didn't know you had left the country and man, their staff are so persistent! There were a couple of mails I missed around the time you left which I ignored, since well, you left, but they've called me countless of times this morning as if they can't even wait an hour longer for me to disclose your details. But I told them I'd have to speak with you first. You know, PDPA can be a real bitch these days...

It was true.

Personal data protection was such a sticky issue that never let anyone in this media line rest. Of course, it didn't make any business sense for the boss to let another agency poach his ex-staff when he could possibly leverage on it. Anyone would. But you still didn't get it - why you?

- Before we go on, Mr John, which agency is this that has put forth such a strange request?

As if haunted by the thought, he sighed and sank into a chair.

- Apparently they said the leader made a direct request this morning for it and it became urgent. Remember the boyband you covered at your first stint? What was it again...

He motioned to Fan asking for the name of the band and she quickly showed him her Season's Greeting calendar with the 7 smiley boys.

- BTS. That's right. The Bangtan Boys.

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

The day whizzed by and you were completely caught in the flurry of calls, and emails you thought you never had to open again.

In a matter of hours, you had set up your laptop and found a small empty area where you could sit comfortably and wasn't occupied by one of the boy's laundry or gadgets.

The call had ended abruptly when you told Mr John to send you the emails for your consideration since Fan was probably freaking out at both her roaming call charges and the surprise of it all.

The leader made a request this morning? That's not possible... Namjoon? But why?

Bewildered, you let the mails load by the chunks until you hear the arrival of new mail from your boss - you had always gave it a different colour code just so you'd never miss it.

As you clicked it open, you saw the unmistakable BigHit email signature and a long mail thread which you read every single word not missing any of it. You could tell it was written very directly due to the probably lack of English expertise from the local staff but was succinct and sufficient to get the point across.

It was simple. They wanted you to work for them - with lodging and everything else taken care of.

This is more than perfect!

After going through the legal and operational details over the phone with their representative, you carefully broach the subject of possible maternity leave, in the near future. To your surprise, they were not only supportive but assured you that even the expenses would be taken care of so long as you were returning to your duties after that. The only thing was that you would have to start work the day after tomorrow in view of the tour that was upcoming.

Another long flight. Packing after you've just unpacked.

With a small sigh, your eyes caught sight of the neat scribbles Jungkook left for your this morning and smiled to yourself. Well, it wasn't that bad if this meant you were able to be with him for the next 3 weeks. It had just been 3 days with the boys but the thought of not being able see, hear, and just be near him had grown so uncomfortable that it made you teary.

Hurriedly you shook these thoughts off and took a deep breath, picking up your phone to text Jungkook.

- Work hard for today Kookie, I've got some news for you tonight :)

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

Hours later, Fan sorts out her own paperwork and ties up loose ends in the office, and prepares to take the first flight out in the morning to meet you. Unlike you, she had to get on flight soonest in order to arrive on the same day you start work.

Looking through the texts, she remembered having Jimin's number from the time when she pressed Chae-rin for at least one emergency contact other than JK's, in the event where she wasn't contactable. Picking up her courage, she decided to send him a text of her arrival... After all that you've done for her, being there for you in this uncertain period of your life, was the least she could do, of course, with some help, a surprise appearance would be the cherry on the cake.

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

The doors of the apartment swung open hastily and you hear the familiar banter of Jin, Namjoon and J-hope, as they discussed formations for the concert. They were so loud it sounded more like a party than 2 people just talking.

'No, no, no... hyung, I'll change it and Taehyung will sit on Namjoon and me because -- AAAigoo Jungkook-Ah! Your big bag is in my face, watch it!' It was J-hope, the loudest of them all, sounding suddenly cautious at the silent arrival of Jungkook, probably squeezing through the door with his over-sized bag.

'Sorry hyung! You okay?' Without even looking back, he habitually kicked off his shoes and tried to mask his excitement of finally being able to see you at the end of a long day. Going straight to his room, he finds your bags sitting at the door, luggage zipped and packed like the day you arrived. With eyes wide in shock he starts going into every room in search for you and when you were nowhere in sight, he grabs his phone and starts calling you, frantically looking around the living room if you'd left him a note or something.

The older boys, especially Namjoon, calmly check out Jungkook's room to see what he was being flustered about only to be startled by sudden movements among the rack of Jungkook's black tee-shirts.

'OOH! OOH! OOH! What-what -- Ahhh... you scared me!' Hushed Jin who put a hand to his chest after seeing that it was you, hidden behind the clothes. He looked extra warm and fuzzy today, in a turtle neck and glasses you seldom saw him wear.

You put a finger to your lips and motioned for Namjoon to come closer as you whispered to them. 'The company told me about your request.' You said, to the 3 older boys who were crouched down with their faces inches from yours in the dim corner. You continued, 'I'll be moving to the empty apartment next door in the morning.'

'JJINCHA???' J-hope exclaimed only to be quickly silenced by your hand.

'But why're you hiding from Jungkookie?' Namjoon asked. 'You trying to make him think you're leaving? You want to prank him?'

You nodded. 'It's now or never, isn't it?' with a cheeky wink, the brothers nodded and stood up giving you an "OK" signal, and started going into their overly exaggerated acting mode.

Jin sat on the bed while Namjoon went out to look for Jungkook, and J-hope started talking loudly again. "OMO! Jungkook-ah~~ Why are all her luggages packed up again? Aigoo, Jungkook-ah!"

As the boys gathered, they thoughtfully positioned Jungkook's face in your view, a clear sign they had done this so many times for the camera.

Namjoon started on his worried low voice, asking Jungkook if there was something wrong or if there was anything else he hadn't told them about. Before Jungkook could even respond, Jin chimed in like a comedic duo with Namjoon, picking up line after line, not even letting Jungkook process what was happening.

'... and you know, its getting late now, where do you expect her to go? right? her bags are all packed and she isn't answering her phone, are you sure she didn't say anything else to you? Jungkook-ah, check your phone again, did you miss some messages?'

You watched as Jungkook stared blankly, trying to recall while he cocked his head to one side, eyes fixed on the packed suitacases in deep confusion. 'No... Noona only said she had something to tell me tonight, but... but...'

'Something to tell you? Ah! That's right, she has to go back home that's why these are all packed!' Jin added quickly.

'NO!' was Jungkook's only response and you could see J-hope trying not to laugh at the innocence of this man-child. He was practically about to throw a fit at his 'helpful' hyungs in his sheer helplessness. As he mumbled unintelligible words to reason out why it wasn't possible you would leave, Namjoon decided to give it the final blow.

Putting his hands over JK's shoulder, he brought him nearer to where you were hiding as if to tell him a secret.

'Jungkook-ah, actually, I spoke to Bang-PD about Chae-rin.'

Jungkook sucked in a sharp breath in disbelief as he shrieked in a high pitch tone you'd never thought he was capable of. 'You, WHAAAAT???? HYUNGGGGG!!!!'

He continued, 'so I told him that for your sake, and hers, she has to move out of this place. Jungkook, hyung is sorry, I really tried my best to speak up for you but I think we can't have a girl here.'

You saw the Jungshook gifs appearing before your eyes as he froze in place, not even attempting to refute all that he heard. You made a mental note to commend his loyal and abiding nature even though it seemed like Namjoon had just turned his back on him.

After awhile, Jungkook spun around, looking at the other boys, studying their faces before going straight to J-hope giving him a deep closeup view of his bright round eyes.

'Wohhh, too close, Jungkook, too close, what-- what--' As he observed the reactions of his brothers, he stood up, surveying the room this time calmly and with sharp eyes, he realised how they had been deliberately leaving an empty space in front of his clothes. It was only then that he faintly saw some colours hidden behind the row of monochrome clothes, and took a deep breath of relief.

'Noona~ I know you're there. Come on out now, you have some explaining to do.' He closed his eyes with a satisfied grin and mild annoyance, pointing in your direction.

Slowly, you emerged bashfully, to the wind-screen wiper laughs of Jin and J-hope.

'Sorry, Chae-rin, we're just really horrible at acting no matter how hard we try. But for now I think we will leave you to deal with our little Kookie, see you outside for dinner! Bye!' In the blink of an eye, the hyungs exited and shut the door behind them as you heard their quick footsteps scurry down the hallway.

It only took you half an hour to explain the situation to Jungkook as he took it all in.

'Are you saying you'll be travelling with us when we're on tour, and when we're back, you'll be staying beside us?' He summed it all up in a sentence.

'Well, y-yes.... but Jungkook I'm going to be a company staff from now on, you need to be mindful of that especially when we're around the other people. I will have real WORK to do, not just tagging along.'

The glee on his face was so evident that you weren't sure if he was really seeing the full picture. Giving you a total embrace, you could feel his muscles relaxing slowly in your hold while he buried his nose in your hair.

'I don't care about that,' he whispered, slightly emotional all of a sudden. 'As long you're not leaving, I know I'll be fine.'

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The next morning, Jungkook headed for practice early, filled with newfound vigor. They go through their routines, new formations, have meetings back to back and work from sunrise to sunrise.

A staff also meets you at the apartment, rather surprised that you had made your way to the door.

'How did you manage to get here?' He asks, slightly puzzled since it was a very secured residence.

Flustered, you blurt out whatever came to your mind. 'Oh, I met Namjoon while I was coming and he showed me the way, ha... yea that boy has good a very good memory for these things yea?'

'Ah, Namjoon? Yea, he did? I heard he doesn't request for staff directly but he specifically asked for you to be brought in as soon as possible... You guys must be close huh?'

As he opened the door to the adjacent apartment, your eyes saw the largest and most spacious loft-like studio, with full-length glass windows and light day curtains blowing in, fully furnished, open concept space. There were 2 rooms in view and a small kitchen, and a balcony. For a place like Seoul, you knew this had to cost a lot being in the same building as the boys.

The staff continued, 'there will be another staff joining us tomorrow and it seems you both are acquainted. It hasn't been sorted out where she will stay but for now, please settle in here as your home while you work with us. Since you're friends with the boys already, I guess there is no need for us to introduce you?'

You brushed it off casually, 'yea you must have had so much to do with my sudden arrival, please don't worry yourself with these trivial matters. I'm thankful enough as it is that Mr Bang made these arrangements himself.'

'Sure, in that case I will leave you and if you need any help just call for myself of any of the managers. We'll see you at the company tomorrow, Ms Chae-rin.'

As he closed the door to your new home, you pick up the shiny new card that came with a long black strap. Your passport-sized photo greeted you back with the same smile as you read the words beneath it to yourself.

BIGHIT STAFF

Strategic Artiste Management & PR Lead (BTS)

This meant a promotion in your career; a new role - not to say the least, one you've proved your worth for, but more impressively,with a team under your lead, the one to call the shots on the bulk of their public appearances, personal welfare, and the first say over the boy's schedules.

As you go through the contract that you had read tens of times over before inking it, you shake your head in disbelief. This was practically the role of a highly paid corporate nanny over 7 grown boys that the world was fawning over.

But well, who's complaining? And you knew deep down, with Jungkook by your side, you'd be more than just fine.

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