#technically a late entry by 2 minutes

[panthera-dei]

Whumperless Whump Event Day 2

Prompt: "Car Accident" / "Eyes open, ambulance is almost here."

Fandom: Knight Rider (1982)

Story Title: "K.A.R.R. Accident"

Story Info:

Characters: KITT, KARR, & Michael Knight. (Bonnie Barstow is mentioned but does not make an appearance.)

Rating: T to be safe

No warnings apply

Canon compliant (mostly. I think.)

Story Link & Summary:

KITT picks up a distress call that can only have come from one source... He has to decide how to respond, and time is running out.

KARR is in rough shape, with limited battery power and severe damage. Yet he knows better than to expect a miracle...

@whumperless-whump-event

[random-mailbox]

Random-Mailbox's Favorite Sailor Moon Fics - Week 17 - New Years

We have officially made it to 2023! I want to start this post by thanking all the amazing people in the Sailor Moon Fandom that helped bounce off ideas, looked for stories that I have read and could not remember the titles of, made art (@beej88 ❤️) and GiFs (@goddessalthena ❤️), re-blogged and commented. And of course, BIG thank you to @floraone for giving me the nudge to start this series in the first place.

Today's theme is New Year's and is our last holiday themed one for a few weeks (until Valentines Day! And after that one, I am thinking St Patrick's Day?)

As always, my apologies in advance for spoiling some of these for you (Fic Titles are linked to either FFN or AO3 entries).

Resolute - @goddessalthena

Usagi and the girls are spending New Years at Unazuki’s party. And who would naturally show up fashionably late with 20 minutes to midnight but not our favorite "baka".

January 11th - @areptiledysfunction1107

While technically this takes place AFTER New Years - it is definitely a New Year's story to me. Mamoru gets a very lemony start to the year, after having missed the Holidays with Usagi due to snow storms.

Start to a Very Good Year - Chelbacca

In this New Year's countdown one-shot, we get both a very protective Mako and Mamoru that would like to start over with how he has been treating Usagi. This is a start to a very good year indeed!

Take Me Out, Take Me Home -@moonchildoh8

This story is is fun take on "fake relationship" trope (sorry for the spoiler right from the start) BUT it does take place at a New Years party. Usagi is helping to organize a gala and who would make an appearance, making all the ladies swoon, than our own Chiba Mamoru.

Missed Call - @initiala

This adorable little one shot centers around the time when Mamoru is studying at Harvard and unable to make it home for the Holidays. Usagi and Mamoru make the best of the situation by calling each other as much as they can.

This wraps up our post for today, but here is what the schedule looks like for the rest of January (thanks to @lilliebellfanfics @caelenath and @riverlethe for helping me narrow things down!)

January 9 - Highschool AU

January 16 - Slice of Life

January 23 - Coffeeshop AU for @moon-daisuki

January 30 - Huddle for Warmth

Here are the links to the previous Tumblr posts in these series to explore more amazing works based on different themes - make sure to check them out if you haven't had a chance! (Click on title name to go to the post) - I will keep updating the list every week as new posts come up:

Week 1 - Groundhog Day

Week 2 - Established Relationships

Week 3 - Sex Positivity

Week 4 - Unfinished Stories

Week 5 - Darker Stories

Week 6 - Potions 🧪

Week 7 - Reveals

Week 8 - 👻Halloween🎃

Week 9 - Wrong Perceptions

Week 10 - Non-Senshi AU

Week 11 - In-Progress Fics

Week 12 - Mutual Pining

Week 13 - Enemies to Lovers

Week 14 - Slow Burn

Week 15 - Christmas Part 1 - Ugly Christmas Sweaters and Santa!

Week 16 - Christmas Part 2

[tsuki-chibi]

Ladynoir July 2023 Day 2: Emergency Contact

Read all the entries on AO3

---

It was late by the time that Marinette finally left her house. A few workers had called in sick to the bakery, so she’d been roped into helping her mom out front. The hours had slipped away under the rush of customers, until Marinette had looked up and suddenly realized she was over half an hour late for her meeting with Chat.

She tucked a box of apology cookies under her arm as she left, telling her maman that she was late for a meeting with Alya instead. A few blocks from the bakery, she slipped into an alley and transformed before taking to the rooftops. Over forty minutes late, she finally arrived at the spot where she had agreed to meet Chat, half-expecting that he’d left already.

But there he still was, sitting on the edge of the roof, looking out over the city. The slump to his shoulders told her that he was having a bad night. Ladybug walked over to him.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted out. “I got caught up doing things at home and totally lost track of time.”

“It’s fine,” Chat said quietly, not looking at her.

It clearly wasn’t fine, and Ladybug sat down slowly while she thought about what to say next. Chat always brushed aside her apologies and excuses. He was always so kind when she was late or, worse yet, when she forgot entirely and didn’t show up. Determinedly, she thrust the box of cookies into his lap.

“Here. I stopped at Dupain-Cheng bakery and brought you these. I know you love them,” she said.

Chat blinked down at the box. “What – you didn’t need to do that.”

“Yeah, I did,” Ladybug said. “So… what’s up? You look like you’re having a hard night.” She studied his profile. “I thought you’d be happy now that Hawkmoth is taken care of. Is this about the fact that we didn’t get the Peacock miraculous back?”

They’d done their best, but Gabriel Agreste and Nathalie Sancoeur were both refusing to talk and there was no sign of the Peacock miraculous in the Agreste mansion. Adrien had granted Ladybug and Chat Noir his permission for them to search the mansion from top to bottom, but the Peacock miraculous simply wasn’t to be found. It unnerved Ladybug to know it was still out there somewhere, possibly in the wrong hands.

“No. Well, kind of. But not really,” Chat said, lightly kicking his heels against the wall. “Ladybug…”

“Yeah?”

Chat was quiet for a long moment before sighing. “Never mind.”

Ladybug bit her lip, frustrated. Chat had been different ever since they’d unmasked Hawkmoth and Mayura. She thought maybe he knew Gabriel Agreste or Nathalie Sancoeur in real life, but she wasn’t sure how and she obviously couldn’t ask how.

Really, between Chat and Adrien, she was worrying nonstop over blond boys right now.

“Hey, you can tell me,” she said, gently bumping their shoulders together.

“I really can’t,” Chat said with a bitter smile. “You wouldn’t want to know.”

“That’s – well, I’d say that’s not true, but… is it about your identity?” Ladybug asked uncertainly. Technically, with Hawkmoth taken care of, there was nothing stopping them. But they hadn’t had that conversation yet. Ladybug didn’t know if she was ready.

“Kind of,” Chat said. “It’s just – who is your emergency contact?”

The question gave Ladybug pause. She scrunched her nose and tried to figure out where this was going, but couldn’t. It seemed like such an obvious answer.

“It’s my parents,” she said slowly. “I mean... who else would it be?”

Chat’s shoulders hunched and he made a quiet sound, turning his face away.

That was obviously the wrong answer. But Ladybug couldn’t figure out why.

“Chat? What’s wrong?” she asked, worried, and reached out to put a hand on his shoulder. It shocked her when he pulled away before she could touch him, getting to his feet. Ladybug stared up at him in surprise.

She didn’t think Chat had ever pulled away from her before like that. His reaction hurt more than she’d expected. She got to her feet too, unsure if she should reach out to him again. The box of cookies sat on the ground, forgotten, and that too stung. Chat loved the cookies from the Dupain-Cheng bakery. Normally he would’ve stuffed at least half a dozen into his mouth by now.

“You know what, I’m not feeling it tonight. Everything’s quiet, and it looks like it’s going to start raining any minute, so I’m just going to head home,” Chat said, still not looking at her.

Ladybug opened her mouth, but she was too late. Chat was already gone, using his baton to propel himself off the roof and in the opposite direction of the bakery. Within moments his black costume was swallowed up by the dark, growing clouds, and Ladybug couldn’t see him anymore.

@ladynoirjuly

[84queenspark]

JD APPLICATIONS FOR ENTRY IN 2024

The online OLSAS application for Fall 2024 entry into the UofT Law JD program opened on August 17th, 2023

Naturally, at the OLSAS 2023-2024 website we expect you to take the time to read the application instructions and details, before and also while viewing, the different sections of the application form.

BEGIN with the:

OLSAS Application Guide and

UofT-specific instructions

At the OLSAS website, after creating an applicant account (username and password), you can access the application form.

Chances are, the answers to your questions are already in the Application Guide, OLSAS website menus and school-specific instructions. However, as you complete each section of the application, for guidance on what to submit, select the help buttons (question mark icons) that appear.

For assistance with ALL technical issues with the online application form, please contact OLSAS directly.   

BEFORE submitting the OLSAS application form, please pay close attention to all of the following:

(#1)   OLSAS vs CAS vs LSAC vs LSAT

OLSAS Ontario Law School Application Service This is the only application service for obtaining and completing the JD application form for any of the 8 law schools in Ontario. OLSAS collects all application materials for Ontario law schools, then provides it to them. ALL application materials must be submitted directly to OLSAS only, do NOT submit to the Ontario law schools. OLSAS is a unit within the Ontario Universities' Application Centre (OUAC).  

Non-Ontario Law School Applications For non-Ontario law schools follow the application procedures specified by each non-Ontario law school.  

CAS Credential Assembly Service The Credential Assembly Service is used for applying to many American law schools. CAS is not to be used in any aspect for applying to Ontario law schools. CAS is a service offered by the LSAC (Law School Admission Council).  

LSAC Law School Admission Council A private American company which provides CAS. The LSAC is also the creator and administrator of the standardized LSAT (Law School Admission Test).  

LSAT Law School Admission Test A standardized test designed specifically to assess the reading, comprehension and reasoning skills crucial for a legal education and the legal profession. For an OLSAS applicant, OLSAS retrieves LSAT reports directly from LSAC and distributes them to the Ontario law schools selected on the OLSAS application form. Official standard LSAT tests results are equally valid, with no preference for the mode of testing (remote, in-person, Flex).     

(#2)   ALWAYS APPLY BY THE OLSAS APPLICATION DEADLINE

First year entry End of day (Toronto time) on November 1st, 2023  

Upper year entry End of day (Toronto time) on May 1st,  2024

    We have to say it thrice: ALWAYS, ALWAYS, ALWAYS submit your application form and the supporting documents that you craft yourself (including personal statements, essay(s), autobiographical sketch) by the application deadline, regardless of how incomplete the remainder of the application may be.

We caution you that:

If you miss the deadline you will NOT be able to submit and/or access the online application to ANY Ontario law school.  

If missed, for EACH desired Ontario law school you will need to make a formal written request for permission to apply late, that includes the reason(s) for missing the deadline.  

There is NO guarantee that a late application will be permitted, so avoid that risk by applying on time.  

The online form is lengthy and cannot be submitted until ALL required fields have proper responses and the application fee payment is processed.  

Unfortunately, despite all warnings, candidates try to submit too close to the deadline.  Far too often they miss the deadline because they fail to anticipate that there would be multiple improper/missed form responses to remedy and/or their online payment may take more than 20 minutes to process due to the high volume of submissions on deadline day.  

Candidates should aim for submitting your application no later than 10 AM (Toronto time) on the deadline date, to allow time to troubleshoot any issues with OLSAS before it closes for the workday. Note that OLSAS is closed on weekends.    

(#3)   SUPPORTING DOCUMENT DEADLINES FOR UofT

Some of your supporting documents must be submitted to OLSAS by the application deadline, while others may arrive shortly thereafter. Therefore there should be no reason to miss submitting the application form by the application deadline. Of course, we do not advise or recommend that you submit documents late intentionally.

For your UofT application at OLSAS there are supporting documents that:

You craft yourself and enter their text directly on the application form e.g. Personal & Contact information, Academic History, Autobiographical Sketch, Verifiers, Personal Statement, BSAP Essay, Optional Essay. YOU MUST SUBMIT THESE BY THE APPLICATION DEADLINE      

You arrange with external sources for their submission of documents directly to OLSAS e.g. official transcripts, WES course-by-course evaluations, NCA reports, letters of permission/letter of good standing from your law school etc. THESE MAY ARRIVE AFTER THE APPLICATION DEADLINE  

We do NOT ask for e.g. letters of reference/recommendation, a test of English Language proficiency. DO NOT PROVIDE FOR UofT LAW, THEY WILL BE IGNORED

We will assess an applicant file after the application deadline, and only after all of the required documents have been received via OLSAS. Therefore, there is no selection advantage from submitting the application form well in advance of the deadline, just don’t miss the deadline. For supporting documents arriving after the application deadline, the sooner we receive them, the sooner we can proceed with your admission review.    

(#4)   LSAT SUBMISSION DEADLINES

2024 First-Year Applications OLSAS Application deadline: evening of November 1st, 2023 Last acceptable LSAT:  scores from the January 2024 test    

2024 Transfer & Letter of Permission (Upper-Year) Applications OLSAS Application deadline: evening of May 1st, 2024 Last acceptable LSAT: scores from the April 2024 test, but note that, if admitted after June, course selection options will be limited

HOW TO SUBMIT YOUR LSAT RESULTS In ALL instances, you must, on the OLSAS online application form:

Provide your LSAT registration number (begins with the letter L), and also:  

Indicate any future tests that you intend to take during the CURRENT admission cycle i.e. before August 2024  

At any point in time, including after you’ve submitted the application, you can return to the OLSAS application to update (add/drop/change) your intended test dates. Please update the application form with your intended test dates so that OLSAS will know whether to obtain and retrieve the scores for those tests.

TAKING THE LSAT AFTER THE OLSAS APPLICATION DEADLINE? Once again, for 2024 entry into the JD first-year, our last acceptable LSAT will be the January 2024 test. If any of the LSAT tests you intend to take occurs after the OLSAS application deadline, then return to the OLSAS application form and ADD the future test date(s).    

(#5)   THINKING OF A JD COMBINED PROGRAM?

You must BOTH:

apply to the JD degree at OLSAS by OLSAS deadlines, and

apply separately to the partner graduate degree by its own process and deadlines

WHAT TO SELECT ON YOUR OLSAS APPLICATION As long as you’re contemplating enrolling one of our JD/Masters or JD/PhD combined programs, then before the OLSAS application deadline, on the OLSAS application form please select BOTH:

the JD program (first year or transfer only), and also

your desired JD combined program(s)

There is no additional cost to select combined programs at OLSAS.

CAUTION: The selection at OLSAS of the partner program, is NOT an application to the partner program. It merely serves to inform the law school of your interest in pursuing a combined program.

(#6)   IS THERE A SELECTION ADVANTAGE TO SUBMITTING AS EARLY AS POSSIBLE BEFORE THE APPLICATION DEADLINE?

None at all.  We only review files for completion and selection after the application deadline. Admission decisions will not be made before the deadline. Which leads us to …    

(#7)   I’VE SUBMITTED MY OLSAS APPLICATION, WHEN DO I HEAR FROM UofT LAW?

Everyone who has submitted a OLSAS paid application form successfully, whether or not it is complete with all supporting documents, should receive a confirmation email from OLSAS. Information transfer from OLSAS to the Ontario law schools is never instantaneous, as it can take at least 2-4 business days, so please temper your expectations. Only after the law school receives application data from OLSAS can we begin our initial email correspondence with applicants, which is likely to begin in late-October.  We will update on this blog with the start date of our email correspondence about your application.

In preparation for that email, please do the following to prevent it from going into your spam/junk folder or from being undelivered:

Add our email address today to your email address book/contact list as a safe sender This should make it easier for your emailer will recognize us when we send the initial email. Add  admissions.law@utoronto.ca

As a good practice, monitor your spam/junk folder periodically for misplaced messages.

Best Regards, JD Admissions Office

Faculty of Law University of Toronto

law.utoronto.ca

[the-wizard-zietgiest]

2023-05-25

Finally tried jhana meditation and it’s all it’s cracked up to be. Initially decided to investigate based on recommendation from [C.Q.AGE.], found general information online. Of interest, a practitioner in thailand, who goes by [RDCT] and makes some interesting claims.

This is a report of two separate sessions, [S.20230524] and [S.20230525].

SESSION 1 -

Time: 2023-05-24 1205h

After the point in entry level meditation where the breath becomes very shallow and infrequent, I shifted my attention to a pleasant sensation in my hands, as per traditional first-time instructions. I payed attention to the pleasant quality of the pleasant sensation. After long conversations with [C.Q.AGE] and [C.Q.NC] it has become clear to me that qualia, or the specific individual qualities of qualitative conscious experiences, is the vast depth that must be plumbed if a world free from suffering is to be created. The claim that specific subjective conscious states have objective mathematical descriptions carries the implication that with the right technique a mathematical description of a conscious state may someday be imported to an experiential consciousness.

Leaving aside for now the “mathematical description” portion, one can easily see why jhana practice is spoken of by Gautama Buddha as a necessary companion to insight meditation, or vipassanabhavana. Jhana practice produces extraordinary states of consciousness in a predictable and linear way, and does so without the confounding variables of psychoactive substances or group settings. It is by studying, or meditating on the experiences produced by these states that one gains insight into the nature of reality and consciousness. This insight is what will eventually allow the creation of the aforementioned mathematical descriptions of conscious states.

But enough discussion of the future, let us return to the session at hand:

In this session the sensation of piti was clearly experienced and was present in fluctuating intensity, but did not seem to reach a critical point or point of total saturation with piti. Because of this, I cannot claim to have experienced in full the 1st jhana, but I have seen enough to know that the 1st jhana can be achieved, which leads me to suspect the other jhanas may likewise be achievable for me. This possibility excites me.

As Ram Dass would say, “You don’t worship the gate, you go into the inner temple.”

“Ah, so. Ah, so.”

[technical notes and session description elsewhere]

SESSION 2 -

Time: 2023-05-25 2130h

Session 2 was performed at my place of work, quite late into the evening. I found an empty conference room and set a timer for 26 minutes. I was able to sense the nested toroidal structure of energy around my body, but again found that the degree to which i was able to experience that sensation, whatever it was [the experience being described here took quite some time to articulate in the author’s handwritten notes, but essentially what is being described is a visual synesthetic representation of a tactile experience of some high-charge electromagnetic field permeating the body, similar to static electricity but produced bio-electrically] fluctuated throughout the session but did not reach a peak or total saturation point. I’ve attempted a few drawings of the visual stimuli but will need repeat sessions to correctly draw it.

Again, the sensation of piti came and went in waves, but the waves had higher peaks, and it did feel at many points as though a critical point or point of saturation was just over the horizon. Even so, the sensation of piti was quite intense and present for much of the meditation period. The experience was intensely positive, high valence, and medium arousal. OF NOTE, upon returning to normal consciousness I found my body moving fluidly and feeling painless, energized, and limber, even though prior to the session I had been on my feet working in a high-stress environment for quite some time.

[technical notes and session description elsewhere]

[planetaryaether]

this post has been making the rounds a little bit lately so I thought I would add the context! Information about all of them (except umbrella rythian) are in my pinned post! Sips Co Episodes: Set between the prequal and episode 1 of Blackrock, Rythian guest starred in a few episodes of Sips Co (working for them to be able to steal materials to give him a head start on his magic) Teep Accidentally Killed Zoey: Not sure where the original post where they revealed this was, but Teep was originally supposed to be an Easter egg in the background of season 1 as a fun little mystery for the audience but he did legitimately shoot/kill zoey on accident, forcing him to be a part of the story as we know it today. Ringo Saves Zoey: In the explosion at the end of season 2, Zoey is able to survive partially because Ringo knocks her away from the nukes right before the explosion (thus why he is radiated and in the water with Zoey in the beginning of season 3) The Princess: This refers to the short story Rythian wrote about the backstory of the Enderdragon! She was a princess of the end (then the Realm of Dawn) and after the loss of her parents stopped at nothing to try and stop death from taking anyone else she cared about, leading to a ritual that (although technically succeeds) turns her into the ender dragon, the people of her realm into endermen, and turns her realm into the end. Umbrella Rythian: An old fandom in-joke that Rythian’s silhouette, with his cape, makes him kinda look like an umbrella (so in some older fanart he is umbrella shaped) Unplanned Nuke: I also don’t have the original post for this, but apparently the nuke wasn’t a part of the original plan for reason 2, Duncan irl decided to put it there and they worked it into the story from there. Railbros Schedule Conflict: In his 10 years of content creation stream, Rythian revealed that originally the first few episodes of season 2 were supposed to have Rythian hanging out with the Railbros and be a bit more lighthearted, but due to a last minute scheduling conflict, Rythian had to do those episodes alone (thus we got the significantly more angsty/lonely version of Rythian we know today) Cannibal Ravs: ravs originally wanted his character to be a cannibal (because of his love of NBC’s Hannibal), but Zoey didn’t want it in the series/think it would fit (but certain aspects of it are still worked in with the squid thing instead of people) Gametee Notebook Lore: In 2014 there was a Blackrock notebook sold through Gametee that included 2 passages/entries from Rythian before season 1 and the other after season 2! they are a great insight into Rythian’s mindset at those times and which ideas he tells himself to deal with his emotions (again, there is a link in my pined post for the whole text). Rythian Doesn’t Know about Squirrels: In season 3 when Zoey is naming everything she comes across, at one point she finds a squirrel and Rythian responds “oh yes a SqUiRrEl” which heavily implies that he doesn’t know what a squirrel is which I personally find hilarious.

[kitashousewife]

that’s the way my heart feels

an: this is my first entry for @kitsunekanojo event Too Much To Dream !! congrats milo on your milestone and thank you so much for letting me enter!! this fic is based on the song Pancakes by LANY

pairing: yuta x fem!reader

warnings: food mention & eating, pet names, all characters aged up, fluff, lowercase intentional

-

the floor creaks under your bare feet, each step taken in the kitchen creating its own unique sound. the cabinets join in the song, squeaking and shutting with a thud. cracked eggs, milk being poured, and the whisk rattling in the mixing bowl join into the melody. making your lover breakfast is the least you could do for him.

well, breakfast at 2:07 am.

while, it’s technically morning, this still counts as breakfast to the two of you. a few minutes ago, right as you were about to head to bed, your phone rang. yuta’s voice came through the other end, exhausted but sweet. he had been gone on a mission for a few days, heading out to take care of a low-grade curse that he was using to train some students. to everyone’s dismay, the curse was a bit harder to fight than expected.

“i miss you so much, my love,” yuta sighs, yawn barely audible.

“i miss you too. are you hungry? i could make you something if you would like,” you ask, knowing full well he probably hasn’t eaten much since he left earlier this week.

“that would be amazing, but don’t fuss too much. i’m fine with anything,” his voice is soft, the sound of the turn signal clicks in the background. “i’ll be home in less than 10 minutes and i cannot wait to see you!”

a bright smile pulls at your lips. skipping into the kitchen, full of excitement, you get ready to make yuta the best meal he’s ever had in his life. except there is just one problem: you never went to the store.

listen, this week was tough. you decided to pick up a few more shifts to distract yourself while he was gone, which worked, except you got a bit too distracted. looking at the stove, you check the clock and feel a bit more pressure. he should be home in just a few minutes. thankfully, you remembered the pancake mix you kept in the pantry for situations like this.

it isn’t glamorous by any means, but it will have to do. grabbing a scoop, you pour some of the batter into the pan, watching the ribbons form into a rounded shape. the sound of keys and familiar footsteps pull your attention away from the now bubbling circle.

“hello, sweet wife,” yuta pulls you into a warm embrace, soft black hair tickling your neck. giggling, you pull back to look him in the eye. you notice the dark circles under his eyes and begin to worry. noticing your concern, he tips your chin up towards him.

“gimme a kiss,” he mumbles against your lips, pulling you closer to him. his lips are soft, slightly chapped from the dry air. pulling away, he inhaled and closes his eyes.

“that smells incredible, what did you make?” yuta turns around, hanging his belongings on the hooks near your door, locking up as he goes.

“pancakes, it’s all we had. i hope that’s okay,” you flip the first few, grabbing plates for the two of you.

“i appreciate anything sweetheart. thank you for being willing to cook for me this late,” he gives you a warm smile as he opens up the fridge.

yuta knows how tough this is on you. his trips have been more and more frequent, leaving you alone more than a newly married wife should. he feels terrible, his heart sinking every time he gets asked to go on missions, knowing he has to leave you behind. he hates bringing it up, feeling guilty for being gone so much. you are always quick to get rid of those feelings, assuring him that it’s okay, i’ll be fine. you know that he is needed, he’s one of the strongest after all.

grabbing the butter dish from the shelf, yuta gets an idea. yes, it’s late, but the unopened bottle of champagne he got as a thank you from the last mission is calling his name.

with a plate in your hand, you stack three pancakes up high for your very hungry husband. fluffy and warm, just the way he likes. grabbing some for yourself, you set the plates on the island for the two of you to enjoy.

right behind you, yuta grabs the champagne flutes the two of you got engraved for your wedding, ever so carefully, and sets them down next to your plates. the pop of a cork startled you, and you whip around to see him standing over the sink, letting the excesses drip.

“what’s the occasion?” you laugh, sitting down on a barstool and watching with delight as he fills your glass.

“we don’t need one!” he beams, topping off his own glass. “but, i guess we should toast to something,” he hums. grabbing the stem of your glass, you hold it up towards his. he clears his throat dramatically, as if beginning a grand toast.

“here’s to my lovely wife, who deserves the biggest celebration in the world!”

the clink of your glasses fills the room, followed by the pop of the syrup cap.

“if anything we should be toasting to you,” you take a sip of your glass. “you’re the one who fought curses for days and won.”

cutting a new piece of his pancake, yuta shakes his head. “i wouldn’t be able to do it without you, though. that would be impossible.” he says and grabs your hand, holding it in his as he plays with the diamond sitting on your finger.

the next 40 minute is full of stories, funny moments, and details of his trip. you listen to every word, eyes not leaving his as you fumble with your fork, half-hazardly stabbing pieces of pancake. everything is so interesting, the techniques his students are learning are just incredible. you can tell how proud he is by the wide smile he has on his face as he recounts the events.

the two of you make quick work cleaning everything up. yuta gets distracted, though. he missed you, even more than last time. your voice, your laugh, your kisses, your hugs. everything about you is so perfect to him. the way you’re willing to drop everything you’re doing, when you’re tired as well, just to make pancakes at 2 am in jeans and a t shirt for him when he gets home.

walking side by side down the hallway, he wraps his arm around you and slips his hand into your back pocket.

“i missed you so much. did i mention that?”

the bedroom door swings open, causing yuta to groan with relief. besides seeing you, he was also very excited to sleep in his own bed.

you hum, grabbing your own pajamas to change into. “i don’t think so, but i would love to hear everything you missed about me, just out of curiosity.”

he chuckles, tucking you in under the covers. “i missed your pretty hair,” he mumbles, planting a kiss to your head. “i missed your beautiful face,” he whispers, leaving a soft kiss to your lips. “i missed your cute laugh and smile,” and you smile in return, sleepy eyes looking up at him as rubs his thumb across your cheeks.

“i love you so much, my wife.” he whispers, leaning down to kiss your cheek. your eyes flutter shut as he turns off the lamp on your side of the bed. he feels so grateful, so full of love and adoration for you. he could not be prouder of you for working so hard, and is so thankful that you are so selfless. he feels like the luckiest man in the entire world.

he feels lucky to love you. he is overwhelmed with gratitude for the life he gets to spend with you. yuta feels so needed, so wanted, and so appreciated.

as the clock blinks 3:14 am, the exhaustion he had felt beings to take over. closing his eyes, he falls asleep with a smile, on cloud nine with you as his wife.

[sage-writing]

Love In The Water

swimmer! Ari Levinson x female trainer! reader

Sport: competitive swimming

Decade: 1980s

Summary: Being Ari's swimming coach is more difficult than you thought. Until there is a little confession.

Word count: ~1.9k

Warnings: actually pretty fluff, minor smut, mention of pregnancy [still 18+, minors do not interact and please leave my blog]

A/N: Entry for @syntheticavenger In it to win it Challenge. Congratulations on your 11k🥳🎉This challenge was so much fun. Thank you for organizing this, helping me out and giving me the courage to post this after my long break here ❣️ I chose the song "Africa" to add a little spice to it.

Enjoy!

Annoyed, you took another look at your watch. Ari was never able to be on time. He was probably curing his hangover once again.

Frustrated, you sat down at the edge of the swimming area and put your feet into the cool clear water of the pool. For 2 months you had already been Ari Levinson's swim trainer and he was already getting on your last nerve.

It was relatively quiet here. Some other athletes were training alone. But yours didn't even manage to be on time for the guided workouts.

A few minutes later, Ari came sauntering out of the club house with one hand loosely in the pocket of his swim shorts and a cup of coffee in the other.

"You're late." You said angrily when he finally arrived at your place. If there was one thing you couldn't stand, it was Ari's outstanding ability to be inattentive and flippant in any situation. It was important to stick to the training schedule and there wasn't much time left until the next competition. Only hard work could still turn the situation around.

Ari sipped his coffee in a leisurely manner.

"It's only eleven minutes. Lighten up, it's a beautiful day, no need to stress."

Arguing wouldn't do any good, so you just decide to get on with it.

"You know you shouldn't wear those loose swimming shorts. They increase your resistance in the water and just make you slow."

"Yeah I know, but those Speedos are so tight down there." he whined like a little kid and didn't take you seriously.

Your patience was wearing thin. You snatched his coffee cup out of his hand. 

"Hands out of your pockets and into the water. 11 lanes. One for every minute late. And that's not counting as a warm-up yet. Move out."

Ari wanted to reach for the radio, because he loved to listen to music while swimming. You could not understand it, because through the water hardly any sounds came through to him, but he said he liked it especially when the sounds were slightly muffled. You took the radio out of his reach.

"If you'd been on time, you'd be listening to music now."

Finally, Ari obeyed and got into position on the starting block while you lined up at his level on the poolside.

"Front crawl, bilateral breathing, after every third stroke. On my signal.

3...2...1." Vigorously blowing the whistle, you started the stopwatch. Ari lunged forward and dove into the water like an arrow.

The training went sluggishly. Ari kept swimming his penalty laps and warm-up fast and technically clean.

Later, however, his technique became sloppy, arrhythmic and he made mistakes.

With another blow of the whistle you signaled Ari to stop after the current lane.

You just had to vent your frustration.

"Levinson, where are you with your thoughts?" Sighing, you pinched your bridge of your nose.

"Why so tense, coach?" 

"Tense?! That's an understatement. Practice with you is a disaster. You're always late, unfocused, and don't follow my instructions as a coach. You're only at the club parties in the evenings, constantly flirting with other women, probably still hooking up with them, and that's why you're not in shape in the morning. How are we ever going to make progress like that?" Your voice was getting steadily louder.

Ari only responded to your harsh criticism with a grin.

"Is someone jealous?"

"Pretty thin ice, Levinson. I wouldn't mind throwing my job out on the line." 

Only now did he seem to realize how serious you were. His grin disappeared, and with a flourish he pulled himself up on the edge of the pool and stood in front of you, dripping wet. The light was refracted in the many small drops of water so his skin glistened in the sun.

"You know what? We're going to stop the training here. If you can't take me seriously, there's no point. I want you to do your stamina training now and the weights training in the afternoon. Then, if we can work together like professionals again, I'll see you back here this evening."

You turned on your heel and even Ari calling your name couldn't bring you back.

You needed time to cool down and had been swimming in the sea yourself. Swimming against the waves and the surf was more to your liking. It was more natural, not like in a calm chlorine-rich pool. You let the setting sun dry your skin.

In the evening you entered the area of the swimming club. By now all the athletes and coaches had gone home. Only Ari was sitting on one of the starting blocks waiting for you. He looked as bad as you felt.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you or stopped the session. That was unprofessional."

For once, it was easy for you to apologize. Your mistake was clear to see. Even if you could never admit that Ari was right.

You were jealous. First and foremost, you couldn't understand how much focus and ambition he put into flirting. Something that didn't seem possible in training.

Maybe there was more, but you couldn't and didn't want to let it get closer to you. A liaison between coach and athlete was highly... problematic.

"It's okay." Ari brushed back his long hair. He looked nervous, too. "As for the other women, you may be wrong, but it's true that my concentration is slipping. I don't notice it until I'm already completely out of rhythm. Can you show me what I'm doing wrong as soon as the first mistake sneaks in?"

"Like in the water?"

"You've been training me for a while, but you haven't been in the pool with me once. You're not a non-swimmer, are you?" He provoked you teasingly.

"All right, but only if you behave yourself and at least try to carry out my instructions this time."

"I'm quite the perfect gentleman, and I swear it." Ari's reappearing smirk was a sign that the mood was tilting back to the positive. This time you even allowed him to turn on the radio.

You slipped out of your sweater and track pants. The high-leg-cut swimsuit you wore underneath was currently in fashion but not exactly the most professional attire for professional swimmers. But it had to do for today. Ari and you enter the water. You let him swim ahead and stopped him whenever you had to correct something. At first you felt his muscles tense up when you put your hand on his chest, arms and legs and showed him how to improve his posture and movements.

You couldn't deny that Ari's body was in great shape. His muscular system was dense and strong. Sometimes you felt his gaze on you as well and you wondered if he was listening to you at all. But indeed the exercises worked and you were sure that Ari's performance showed improvement.

He did a few more laps, which you watched partly from above the water surface or from below. You swam after him and you met at the end.

"It's all right Levinson. I don't mean to exaggerate, but I think that was the most productive coaching session so far."

"Did you just retroactively call me lazy?" asked Ari, offended.

Lunging with your arm, you splashed water in his face. He tried to avoid the attack by diving down and grabbing your foot underwater. You refrained from kicking him, because you didn't want to hurt him either.

Gently he pulled you to the edge of the pool until you felt the tiles in your back.

"You know, as for my morale in training. It's not because of other women, it's because of you. I can feel exactly how you're observing me. It's distracting to me."

You stiffened as you struggled to keep your head above water on your own in the confined space. He pressed even closer to you, his warm breath colliding with your cool skin, and you held on tighter to his shoulders.

"Relax, I've got you." Gently he guided your legs so they wrapped around his hips and he carried you.

"What...what are you trying to tell me?"

Your brain was so fogged by Ari's presence. You could barely hear Toto’s “Africa” warbling from the radio.

Hurry boy, she's waiting there for you

"You are strong, clever and passionate. You brighten every day for me. I think I'm in love with you." 

It's gonna take a lot to drag me away from you

You saw his Adam's apple move heavily as he swallowed, as if he had just relieved himself of a great burden.

His honesty gave you the courage to say the following words.

There's nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do.

"You were right, Ari." 

"About what?" he asked curiously, his brows furrowed.

"I'm jealous."

You let your lips crash down on his. Almost greedily he returned the kiss and your body heated up in the fire of pleasure and desire. It was as if months of built-up tension were released with a loud boom, like a thunderstorm.

I bless the rains down in Africa

Gonna take some time to do the things we never had

Hectically you tried to get your hand down Ari's waistband. You wanted to feel him. You needed to.

"Wait wait wait…” For a brief second you were confused that Ari stopped you. “I want you, but not here and not like this. Not with the risk of drowning or getting caught by the security. You deserve to be loved on the softest of beds. Ma-... May I take you home… with me?" he sounded like he was afraid you might refuse.

You kissed him again. Much slower but also more sensitive this time.

"If you promise to stay as focused as you were during today's training, you may take me anywhere in the world.”

You two laugh at this like little joking children.

Gently, Ari maneuvered you both to the nearest ladder and climbed out of the cold pool while you still clung to him. He let you go only to put a soft towel around you. Carefully he stroked your arms and back to dry you. Again he lifted you bridal style, the feeling of his thick arms was soothing. And just like that Ari carried you to his nearby home where he showed you detailedly what you secretly meant to him.

2 years later

"Remember, stay focused. When you change direction, push off hard, use the push you gain but don't get too close to the wall either. Understood?" You did not get any reaction.

"Ari? Are you actually listening to me?" You asked again, louder this time.

"Yeah yeah, concentration, Push off hard, use the push but not too close to the wall." he replied casually, as he put on his goggles causing an eye roll on your part. It was and always would be the same trouble with him.

Despite the everyday hassle you were so damn proud of him, even if he didn't like to hear it and always stressed that it was only because of his amazing coach. However, there was also a lot of pressure on both of you, more of on him. This competition was important. If Ari could at least make it to the top-3, it would make him the most successful swimmer of the year. 

The judges got into position and signaled the competitors to get on the starting blocks.

Ari gave you a quick kiss on the forehead, but before he could turn away, you stopped him.

"Make me proud, Ari. Make us proud." While you clasped his hand with yours, your other hand rested protectively on your lower abdomen.

Ari lowered himself to one knee and kissed the slight curve of your belly.

"I promise." 

[butwhyduh]

Fit to be Tied

Jason Todd x reader

Warning: Christmas? And the f word.

Christmas series 2

Jason didn’t pay much attention to holidays. Nope. That was for the living. He didn’t have much of need for it. But he did know that Christmas was quiet and New Years was busy for patrol. He guessed everyone ate Christmas dinner and and then got bored of playing nice. Or maybe that just wanted to start the new year with a big ass bang. Who knows?

Even when he was a kid, he didn’t celebrate the holidays. Too poor, mom too lost in drugs, and dad? Well fuck him. He was a piece of shit when he was around.

Jason kicked a beer can out of his way into the pile of trash on the sidewalk. They didn’t get the trash again this week it looked like. Daddy Bruce could play bat but couldn’t throw his money around enough to keep trash from piling on the street.

It was fine. He had more important things to do anyways. He had to buy a Christmas present. He didn’t care for the holidays but the sweet girl he had at home was a doll and fuck, if she didn’t deserve something. So Jason went down to the local pawn shop. Usually not a problem but it was 2 AM. Not exactly prime business hours.

So yes, Red Hood was breaking into a pawn shop to get a bracelet. He was leaving cash, $20 over the cost too. It was something you had seen earlier in the week and had admired. Gems of some kind shaped to look like a butterfly. You’d taken a minute longer to stare at it.

He left as quick as he came. And it wasn’t long until he was opening the window of your apartment dressed in street clothes. You were asleep. Jason had used the excuse of patrol to get out. But in the early morning hours of Christmas, he wanted to wake you.

“Princess,” he said gently. You moved a little before opening your eyes. You smiled up at him. Fuck, he didn’t deserve the way you looked at him. Your eyes looked so innocent and sweet. You never looked at him like he scared you.

“Jaybird, what’s going on?”

“I got you something for Christmas and it’s technically Christmas..” he said pulling out the box. You sat up, curious.

“It’s Christmas Eve. You got me something? I didn’t think we were- I didn’t get anything. I couldn’t-“ you said turning red. Money was too tight to consider it. The fact that the heat was still on this late in the month was a Christmas miracle.

“No no. It’s fine. Just being here is enough for me. I’ve never really celebrated Christmas anyways,” Jason said pushing the box in your hand. You held the box before kissing him.

You opened the box to see the bracelet you had been looking at the pawn shop. You smiled and stared at the pretty little butterfly. Jason watched you carefully for a reaction. He’d never admit it but he was more nervous now than fighting on the street.

“You saw me looking at it. I didn’t think you’d notice,” you murmured softly as you picked it up. Jason took it and wrapped it around your wrist. He clasped it on and you looked at it, moving your wrist in the light.

“Thank you. It’s beautiful,” you said quietly looking at it. You had a little grin on your face. Jason smiled. That’s the look he wanted. That little bit of happiness that you showed when you were really pleased. He intertwined his fingers in yours.

“Princess, you’re so cold,” Jason said with a frown. He could feel it colder outside but now that he was getting used to the temperature, it wasn’t warm as it should be.

“The heater was acting up again so I turned it down. The blankets are plenty warm,” you said and his heart all but broke. There was no way he was going to let you be cold all winter because the landlord wouldn’t fix things. He might pay this guy a visit. You sensed his anger.

“It’s okay, Jay. Come lay with me and get warm,” you said taking his hands. He let you pull him into bed. He kicked off his pants and shoes and laid on his side. You curled into him as a little spoon. His long big frame all but engulfed you. It always felt to protective. If he was holding you, he knew you were safe. Jason ran his fingers along your bracelet soft as his rough fingers could.

“You’re so good to me,” you said softly and his heart clenched again. Fuck, if you knew all the bad he did. His messed up past. He thought you would have run away when you first learned he was Red Hood but no, you had been kind.

“Naw, Princess you deserve more then this shitty place,” he said, and for the first time, he felt a little bad about giving all of his trust fund to the soup kitchen he would visit as a kid. A little would have been nice to get a better place for you. But he had been making a ton crushing the drug trade at the time and didn’t have a girl back home when he did it. He couldn’t be as reckless now.

You turned in his arms to look in his blue eyes. He has such an intense look on his face that you frowned. “Jaybird, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said pulling his face back to normal. “Just thinking. I wanna move you to a better place, a safer place than this,” he said running his thumb across your cheeks. You grasped his wrist and leaned into his touch. Jason would sometimes get like that. Thinking you deserved better. And you humored him even though you wouldn’t even know what to do with wealth.

“We’re moving. Soon. I’m promising now,” he said thinking about the painful conversation he was going to have with Bruce. His adoptive father he hadn’t even told you about. Bruce would do just about anything Jason asked. Probably the guilt of letting him die.

“But Jay, we’d miss the water that went from boiling to freezing at random. And I’m not sure if I can sleep without Mr and Mrs Jancowski having sex every Tuesday at 2 AM,” you said with a smile. He kissed you to shut you up. You were joking but each one felt like a little knife in his guilt. You pulled him over you and the thought of money troubles faded from your mind.

———————————————

Jason woke before you and watched you sleep. You laid on his chest with your hand in his hair and your soft breath on his throat. The bracelet was still on your wrist. You looked so peaceful, trusted him while you slept. Jason carefully grabbed his phone and texted Alfred. He’d also have to tell you about his adoptive family. His very famous adoptive family.

He threaded his fingers in your hand that was flung across his waist. You began to stir. Jason moved hair from your face and you blinked to see his pale blue eyes watching you.

“Morning, Princess,” he said with a rough morning voice. You smiled.

“Morning, Jaybird.”

“I’ve got something to tell you,” he started. “I want you to meet my family tonight.”

“Tonight? Your family? I thought your parents...” you trailed off.

“I was adopted. I never told you because I don’t have the best relationship with them. But I think it’s time for you to meet them. I’ve got to tell you something else,” he said and you could hear his heart beat quicker as you laid on him.

“My adoptive father is Bruce Wayne.”

Silence.

“You’re shitting me.”

“Nope. And tonight I’m taking you to meet him. And my adoptive siblings.”

“You aren’t joking,” you said sitting up. Jason sat up too.

“I’m not. I’m kinda the... black sheep of the family. He adopted me when I was 12. I was trying to boost the wheels from the b- Bentley he was driving,” Jason corrected. It was one thing to tell you he was Red Hood. He couldn’t say Bruce Wayne was Batman.

“Wow. I- wow. Okay. That’s a lot to take in. Also on brand to be honest,” you said and he smiled and shrugged.

“Wait. What the fuck do you wear to the freaking Wayne manor for Christmas Eve?” You said a little panicky.

“Whatever you want. It’s just family,” he said with a sideways smile.

“Oh no. I can’t go to freaking Wayne Manor in a Kmart sweater,” you said quickly.

“You can wear,” he said hopping out of bed. He dug way in the back of his closet for a pretty red sweater that was slightly oversized. “This. Should fit fine. Pretty expensive too.”

“Where the hell did you get that?”

“I’ve had it for year and it definitely doesn’t fit now,” Jason said with a laugh. “Try it on.”

—————————————

The weather sucked. Freaking sleet that threatened everything it touched. You were grateful it wasn’t a night of Jason patrolling. This meant taking your car instead of Jason’s motorcycle. Your car was at least 15 years old and you called it Frankenstein because of all the repairs done over the years.

The radio skipped as Jason drove over a speed bump by Wayne Manor and you burst out laughing. Jason looked at you from the side.

“It’s not that funny,” he said. “What’s up?”

“My car is trash, I’m wearing your old sweater, and we’re late. If you weren’t the black sheep before, bringing me home, you will be now,” you said. He grabbed your hand and parked in front of a random house.

“I’ve been the black sheep since I was a kid and you aren’t going to change any thing for the worse. Trust me. In fact they’ll probably think you’re too good for me,” Jason said with a dry chuckle. “So don’t worry about anything. Except making room for pudding. I know it sounds weird,” he said starting to drive again. “But it’s the best part of Christmas.”

Wayne Manor was huge. You knew that. You’d even seen it on tv. But to see it in front of you was honestly terrifying, especially in the nasty weather. You almost hoped Jason was playing some weird elaborate joke and was going to drive on by but he knew the passcode to the gate. He drove in the covered drop off spot by the front door and parked. You both quickly ran in the building.

The front entry was breathtaking. A gigantic Christmas tree and a full staircase decked out in garland like a Hallmark movie. It was like a magazine. In fact, it was in the Christmas episode of Gotham Life the year before.

You gripped Jason’s hand tightly as you walked down the hall. Your shoes sounded unnaturally loud and you had the urge to quiet them like it was a library. Jason pulled you to the doorway of a dinning room full of people settling to eat. Jadon cleared his throat.

“Master Jason! You made it,” Alfred said excitedly. “I recieved your message but it’s been many years. Sit. Sit.”

“Glad you could come,” Jason’s brother Dick said with a grin. He looked at you in curious excitement. You looked down at some kind of mushroom soup placed in front of you. Everyone else was dressed so nicely and ate so perfectly. It was intimidating.

“Yeah, it’s Christmas,” Jason said shrugging. He gave Dick a look that said don’t ask. It didn’t take much for Dick to drop it because he seemed incredibly distracted. You spent most of the meal trying to keep up on conversations you clearly didn’t understand while trying food you’ve never seen before. You could barely remember everyone you were introduced to. One of Jason’s sister(s?) gave you a big hug along with everyone else when she arrived. You couldn’t tell anyone what was even said after the meal. Or so you thought.

Until right across from you, Dick proposes to his girlfriend. He stuttered around before finally asking. “Will you marry me? Oh god, I have a ring,” he said producing one. Everyone watched as she stared in the box.

“Will I marry you?” She asked faintly and you worried she’d say no. How terrible would it be??

“Please say something,” he pleaded and you could tell the man was practically in pain before she said yes. They kissed, the family applauded, and champagne was served.

Jason watched you from the corner of his eyes. How did you react to this? What did you think? You didn’t look jealous or anything. It made Jason think of marriage. He hadn’t before. He’d thought about moving into something more permanent but marriage. He’d never thought about marriage as his future, ever. Of course when you die at 16 and come back with a vengeance, love is low on the priority list.

“Jaybird, you there,” you asked slightly tapping his shoulder. He blinked and looked at you.

“Yeah, I’m here. Just in my head,” he said and you nodded. He’d do that sometimes.

“The party is moving to the parlor,” you said quietly in a proper rich Gothamite voice and Jason huffed before covering his smiling mouth with a nose rub. The rest of the group was moving ahead of you. Dick and his new fiancé were retiring for the night.

“I’m never going to hear the end of it, am I?”

“I’m so sorry, dearest. I can’t understand you with a silver spoon in your mouth,” you laughed. Jason rolled his eyes before guiding your shoulders towards the door. You heard a soft laugh behind you and you turned to see Tim’s girlfriend smiling.

“Sorry to interrupt but I’ve got to use that on Tim,” she said grabbing her coat and walking out.

After making sure you were cool with hanging with Tim’s girlfriend and their adoptive sister Cass, Jason and Tim started a very competitive game of pool. You couldn’t help but look at things that cost more than you’ve ever even seen. The chess set Damian and his girlfriend were playing with probably cost more than your car.

But it was Christmas and you tried to push your insecurities aside. It was a fun evening. A glass of wine you kept sipping on helped as well.

After a while Bruce announced that the roads were too bad and that no one was leaving. Jason clenched his jaw for a second before looking at you and relaxing. He didn’t want to stay but he wasn’t risking your health in any way. Instead he focused on the game.

“So if I win,” Jason said a full hour later. By this time, Damian’s girlfriend had fallen asleep on his shoulder. Your eyes felt a little heavy as well. “I get the penthouse.”

“Sure Jay. That’s Bruce’s. But I’m willing to gamble it,” Tim said throwing his hands up at the ridiculousness.

“I accept terms,” Bruce said. Both boys looked at him surprised. “Whoever wins gets the penthouse.”

You turned quickly to watch the game. Okay, is that a normal thing for them? To bet property. The look on everyone’s face said that no it wasn’t normal.

Jason was excellent at pool. It was a common for you both to go down to the pool hall and play some games. Jason would occasionally make some money playing and he did often as a kid. It was also a way to waste time when your mom was throwing beers back like a fish, like Jason’s mother did. Tim didn’t stand a chance. He wasn’t as good and looked almost like he was in pain occasionally. But maybe it wasn’t a real competition? Maybe Bruce was trying to give Jason something he’d always want to but didn’t know how. Jason easily won the game.

“So the penthouse is mine?” Jason asked. Bruce nodded and shrugged. Tim softly coughed in his hand. Your heart raced. They couldn’t be serious.

“If you’ll live in it,” Bruce said. Damian was carefully carrying his girlfriend upstairs.

“Deal,” Jason says quickly.

“Deal,” Bruce said looking quiet pleased. Was this his plan all along?

“I guess, deal?” Tim said confused. “Though you should owe me. You’re the one that got me shot.”

Your brain broke. He was shot? And it was Jason’s fault?

“What?! You got him shot?” Tim’s girlfriend asked loudly. Tim blanched.

“Not my fault.”

“Literally your fault,” Tim countered.

“What did you do?” You asked looking at him suspiciously. He offered you a sheepish smile.

“I might have said ‘what are you gonna do, shoot us?’ I meant me. Not Tim! He also has a bulletproof suit,” Jason said. Tim must be a vigilante too. You glared at Jason.

“That’s not in the report,” Bruce said with his eyes narrowing.

“Good night everybody. Merry Christmas,” Jason said pulling you from the room and up to his childhood room.

“You’re in so much trouble,” you said and he grinned.

“I’ll deal with it tomorrow. How do you feel about a penthouse? Better than our current place hu?” Jason said pulling you close. You felt dizzy at the idea.

“Seriously? We can’t afford it,” you said trying to stay grounded. It was too good to be true. Things like that didn’t happen to people like you.

“I think I know a guy who can keep the lights on,” he joked and you gave him a serious look. “Don’t worry about it. Just enjoy the idea of constant hot water. Lights never going off,” Jason said pushing you towards the bed. “No one can hear me make you scream.”

“Tempting. Very tempting,” you said and of fucking course it was. A safe beautiful clean penthouse over your trashy scary apartment wasn’t even a contest. Jason pushed you on the bed and hovered over you.

“What are you doing,” you asked flushed but still encouraging him. It was still his dad’s house and he was getting handsy.

“Trying to have sex with my girlfriend on my old bed like every guy ever has dreamed of,” Jason said. He nipped at your throat. You gasped.

“Got to be quiet, Princess,” he whispered and you pulled him down to kiss more.

————————————

The next morning you woke to an empty bed. You fixed your hair as best you could and threw on Jason’s sweatshirt before going downstairs. You caught a glimpse of the kitchen as Bruce slowly slid a set of keys Jason’s way before taking a long drink from his coffee. “I’m glad you made home for Christmas this year, Jason.” The penthouse.

“Morning,” Bruce said to you nodding before leaving the room. Jason was alone in the kitchen but you could hear others in the breakfast nook a door over.

“Keys,” Jason said showing you. “And no lecture.”

You gave him a hug and looked at the shiny metal keys. It would be a while before you could handle the idea of a freaking penthouse being yours. “But you should get something for Tim. You did get him shot.”

“Let him shoot me?”

“Jason, no.”

[kursed-curtain]

Endless Possibilities

First entry here, previous one here!

I dunno if I should tag @goddessoftechnology in this but technically this was their idea so~ deserves all the credit I can give!

Also, fair warning, a bit of these fics includes minor mentions of blood and self-harm (? Maybe?) so tread with caution.

--_ _+_ _--

"Your plate is already in front of you. All you have to do is set the table based on where you assume the silverware goes."

No.1 stepped back, letting Graham look over the cutlery. Today's lesson was on formal table setting. Completely different from how dinner is set up at home, No.1 made sure to inform. He didn't mean to undermine, however No.1's head was occupied by doubts and worry. He knew training a new king from the ground up would be hard work, but he underestimated how much 'hard' would play a part.

Graham squinted at the pile of tupperware, then grabbed the butter knife and inspected it.

"Remember that there is no pressure to get it all right, this is simply a pretest to help me understand what you know." No.1 reminded him.

Graham blankly glanced at No.1, then started placing the utensils. His eyes looked glazed over, presumably lost in thought. He finished in only a few minutes.

No.1 looked over his shoulder. "You're confident in your choices already? Alright, let me check your answers."

As No.1 mentally checked off each bit of silverware, his eyes grew wider and wider, till his checking came to a halt. Thankfully the helmet obscured his face, because he looked utterly dumbfounded. Every placement was correct, even down to the most measly fork. No.1 stifled a bewildered chuckle. "Your Majesty, either you have quite the luck with guessing, or you genuinely know your table setting."

Graham gave a sheepish grin. "Oh, I just got… did a little bit of late-night studying."

"Well then, I'm impressed. That studying paid off."

No.1 picked up the large spoon on the far right. What else did Graham know? "Alright then, what would this be called?"

Graham paused, then spouted, "That's the soup spoon."

No.1 nodded. "And… which fork would you use first?"

Picking up the fork to his far left, Graham explained, "You'd use the fork furthest from the plate, so in this case it's the salad fork."

"Correct again! Why, I don't think I need to teach you about place setting. You're already on your way to becoming quite the noble."

Graham kicked his feet, beaming. Not the most kingly of responses, however Graham deserved it. After all, with how Graham had put everything to heart, that studying must have been tiring.

_+_

They left the dining room and ended the lesson early. No.1 needed to write up a new lesson plan anyways, so Graham got his first bit of extra free time. Graham took out the pendant and rubbed the gem with his thumb. It really was brimming with unending knowledge. Filled with a new vigour from his success, he wondered just what else the amulet could do. Maybe he could finally knock out those unfinished addendums. 

He passed by a window that led out to the training grounds. The idea sparked in his head - he could try wielding a sword again, maybe this time he wouldn't get pinned down and give up like yesterday.

He picked up a training sword and waited for instructions. 

"When holding a sword, grip the handle with your dominant hand and place it just below the hilt."

Of course, of course. He adjusted his positioning as such.

The sound of clanking boots approached from behind him. Graham didn't need to turn around to know it was No.2 - the amulet told him so.

"Good afternoon, sire. Say, aren't you supposed to be doing a lesson with No.1?"

Graham smiled, "He called it off early, so now I have the time to practice sword fighting!"

No.2 hummed, intrigued. "'Called it off early,' huh? Strange, he doesn't usually do that. I'll have to talk to him about that later," he muttered. 

Graham's heart skipped a beat, he couldn't have No.2 finding out about his amulet - that he cheated. He stayed silent, though, to avoid suspicion. No.2 perked up. "Hey, you said you were practicing sword fighting. Care for a sparring match?"

Graham eagerly nodded. The two moved into their positions. Graham received a ping in the back of his mind.

"Your foot is off, you should shift it slightly inwards." Graham corrected.

"You should not correct your opponent, as you do not want them to overshadow you."

A bit late for that reminder. No.2 tilted his head. "Shouldn't I be the one correcting you?" He quipped. Despite his doubts, No.2 still adjusted his form.

Graham glanced down at the glowing blue of the pendant, waiting for instructions.

"Would you like to switch to autopilot?"

Autopilot, huh? Well, he wasn't confident enough in his moves. Maybe he could watch the amulet's technique, adjust his own strategy as such. Graham nodded.

No.2 must have seen Graham's nod as an indicator of readiness, because No.2 rushed in before Graham could look back up again. Graham reflexively closed his eyes, but the sword never came to contact. Graham opened his eyes to see that his own sword had blocked No.2's. No.2 chuckled, amused by Graham's skill. He's been practicing, alright.

They clashed, flying about the battlefield as if in a dance. Graham never could have moved with this level of confidence, of complete and utter focus before. The library did absolute wonders, and the amulet had an inhumanly fast reaction time. Graham swore he saw No.2's shock as Graham sensed him sneaking up from behind.

Then Graham noticed how he was starting to falter. Grip on his sword turning loose and shaky again.

"Returning control to user…"

Graham stopped in the middle of the field, disoriented. No.2 rushed at him, knocking Graham's sword out of his hand and juggling it into No.2's. Easy win.

No.2 put out his hand. "You lasted longer than usual. I think that deserves at least some recognition. Good job, lad."

Graham shook No.2's hand, though still rattled by what just happened. No.2 waved to him, returning back to work, leaving Graham to sit on the steps and interrogate the amulet.

"Why did I get back control before the fight was over? I wasn't… don't you know I'm not good with swords?"

"In order to maintain a safe connection to the Library, the Amulet must be refueled at recurring intervals."

Wait, refueled? Refueled with what?

"Please cut a vein and place the tip of the pendant into the blood. Only a small amount is needed."

Blood… his blood. Gross, but if that's what it took to keep his new knowledge and confidence, Graham could spare just a little. 

He took the pendant and ran the side of it along his finger. Like a blade, it sliced with ease. Blood seeped out of the wound, and Graham noticed how the pendant seemed to suck it up, absorbing it into the gem. It glowed bright blue once more.

"Would you like to continue your sword fighting practice?"

Graham shook his head. No, he had other plans. He wanted to see what else this amulet was capable of. What else could he do? Or perhaps, what couldn't he do?

[clouds-of-wings]

Half-discovered experimental Nordic heavy folk recs

Niche? Yeah. Best music ever? HELL yeah!

Tagged “folk metal” because that’s the intended audience. I'd define heavy folk as "folk music that's reminiscent of metal without actually being metal".

Hindarfjäll (Sweden)

Ah, how I love Hindarfjäll! They became one of my favourite bands before they even released their first album, just because their demos had a sincerity and depth to them that honestly moved me to tears. They started out as a Wardruna-inspired folk band, but by the time their debut Från Tidernas Begynnelse came out in late 2020, they were 1) a solo project and 2) a delightful, unique voice in today’s Nordic folk scene. Hindarfjäll’s music is almost too gentle to really count as “heavy folk”, but the songwriter comes from a metal direction and a large percentage of the fans seem to do so too.

Hindarfjäll also have some great music videos!

Norrsinnt (Sweden)

Now this one - also a solo project - goes much more into a metal direction. In fact many Norrsinnt songs are straight up folk metal. But there’s also the 10 minute long ritual tracks and the nyckelharpa-centric more-or-less-acoustic stuff. The first album, Dåvahugg, came out in 2019, and there's another album's worth of material on Bandcamp already. Sophisticated, majestic, and as heavy as heavy folk gets without being quite "just metal".

Fuimadane (Denmark)

If every music list has its weird entry, this is the one on this list. Someone once said on FB that since the artist behind this project (another solo thing!) is an immigrant, the name should probably be read as “F U Im A Dane”. Very experimental neofolk that goes into many different stylistic directions. Just listen to the song below, you’ll see what I mean.

Nordein (Norway)

I think everything on this list is just “one dude with a lot of instruments” ahaha. Nordein's music is atmospheric, something for fans of soundtrack or ambient music. The artist calls the genre “Norwegian mountain music”, and I for one think you can hear the mountains in the song below. The album it is from, the project’s 2020 debut Nordariket, is a trip. I mean this literally, it’s like a journey.

Also, here's a translation of the lyrics to the song below. Powerful stuff!

Narehell (Netherlands?)

And maybe every list has its “dark” entry too. In that case, this is it. Narehell aren’t technically from a Nordic country (I think), but the nyckelharpa and the tagelharpa are the main instruments, their debut came out only last month, and I at least can’t really see the stylistic difference, so I’m including them. If you like Heilung, check out this... another... solo project (shakes fist).

[neutron-stars-collision]

The Art of Inversion

Neil x Reader 

Chapter 2 - ‘You’re inverted, the world is not��

Previous Chapter - The Life Changing Offer 

Summary: Neil leads you into the world of inversion and sometimes it might be a little bit too much to take in...

Warnings: Curse words. I’ve decided to bring up rating to T (just to be safe).

Author’s Notes: This came out incredibly long so sorry for that. Hope you enjoy and feedback is always welcomed! Thanks to my fellow Neil enthusiasts for inspiration and hype, you know who you are <3 

You have been following Neil through the crowded streets of London City almost breathlessly. He was walking fast and the shoes you chose were far from comfortable. Neither of you have spoken a word for the last fifteen minutes and you began to wonder whether this was a good decision. After all you have agreed to be lead to some obscure destination by a perfect stranger and did not even know his full name. But before you could voice any of those concerns, he has stopped in front of a grey building with a rusted metal door. He held them open, motioning for you to come in. Inside there was a darkened stairwell and an antiquated lift. As the door closed with a creak the only thought you had was that you were about to be killed. You turned to Neil with an arched eyebrow. The flashing lightbulb above made the shadows on his face stand out and drowned the blue of his eyes. You could only see the outline of his strong jaw and cheekbones. He was looking at you as well with that thoughtful gaze again. After a beat he spoke:

“Don’t worry you aren’t going to be murdered” the hint of smile was playing upon his lips “I have parked the car here” he explained and continued down the staircase not waiting for you.

You rolled your eyes and followed. His enigmatic attitude was starting to annoy you. But then all you could do was hope that you will receive some answers soon.

You found him waiting by a black BMW series 7. He was looking at you expectantly as though he was anticipating your reaction.

What did they use to say about not getting into cars with strangers?, you shook your head slightly.

“I really don’t have a choice but to get in the car, do I?” you asked rhetorically while contemplating the absurdity of the situation you got yourself into.

He flashed you that sly grin again and just got into the driver seat.

Lord help me, you thought while joining on the passenger side.

You scanned the inside of the car with interest.

Tenet certainly isn’t on the budget, you noted while taking in the complex displays on the dashboard and the touch screen.

Neil started up the engine and soon you had left the underground parking. You tried to follow the road signs to guess where you were headed but quickly got lost amidst the different exits and turns. You were both silent. Sometimes you looked at Neil and would swear you felt him stare as well. Only once you have reached the highway, he asked:

“Do you have any questions?”

“Many” you glared at him, and he laughed at your deadpan expression “You haven’t told me your last name” you noticed after a few seconds of thinking.

“You have to be really interested in me if that’s the thing that bothers you most” he replied with a playful smile and you glared at him, stifling the sudden urge to punch him.

“You wish” you retorted under your breath.

Still, you felt your cheeks warm up with embarrassment and decided to stare intensely at the road ahead. Neil bit his lip and glanced at you though you could not see it. He was really enjoying teasing you, probably more than he could have expected.

***

You have arrived at your destination fifteen minutes later. Neil parked the car in front of an old warehouse with no signage or marked entries. You looked at him quizzically and he shrugged:

“Told you it’s a secret organisation” with that he got out of the car.

There were only three other cars parked in front of the building and the area was largely deserted. A high fence was separating the acres of land from the fields around and whoever was entering via the gate had to show ID to the small camera. Neil opened the door with that same ID card, and you followed closely, looking up into another micro camera that was guarding the entrance. He went straight to the desk that you assumed was some sort of reception area and after a small hesitation you joined him. There you came face to face with a smartly dressed woman seated behind the desk with a smile on her face:

“Good afternoon Neil” her grin got even wider as she stood up and beamed at him.

“Hello Anna” he replied with that charming smile on his lips.

God, she’s blushing, you noticed while looking at the receptionist. She has turned a lovely shade of pink and was trying to hide it by looking down at the keyboard. This was embarrassing. You had to admit that Neil is incredibly charming, suave and all but… seriously?! But your train of thought was interrupted by the man in question mentioning your name to Anna and adding: “Our new recruit”

You smiled politely at the woman and shook her hand.

“It’s nice to meet you” she beamed at you as well, but it was lacking that ‘looking at Neil’ spark.

You could not blame her for that. You could feel Neil’s gaze, quietly studying you and briefly wondered if he did that to all the new recruits. The silence has now stretched way too long for a normal social conversation, so you cleared your throat and answered:

“Mutually” you started praying for the awkward situation to end.

“I’ve got some papers for you to fill in” Anna handed you a small pile “It’s for the system and so that we can get you the ID card” you nodded and moved to the side, grateful for something to do.

You got absorbed in filling in all the obscure medical information they wanted. It was hard to suddenly recollect what vaccinations you have had in your late teens and whether you have already had chicken pox. Hearing some high-pitched giggles coming from the desk you glanced in that direction. Neil was leaning over the counter and ostensibly flirting with Anna if her flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes were anything to go by. You rolled your eyes for the second time today and went back to the form.

What you have not noticed was that Neil has glanced in your direction just as you have been expressing your annoyance. He smirked and went back to entertaining Anna whose blind devotion was quite cute in his eyes.

Once you have finished filling in the papers you quickly got up and joined the two ‘lovebirds’. Anna took the pile without a further word and you could only await Neil’s instructions. He threw one last sly smile towards her and focused all of his attention on you:

“So are you ready to see what we are dealing with here?” the playful sparks contradicted the serious tone he spoke with.

“I’ve got nothing better to do” you flashed him your cheekiest smile and was pleased to see him slightly surprised.

Well two can play the game…

***

He led you through the maze of corridors into a small laboratory. Although surprisingly it also had a shooting station and a cabinet full of artillery and arms. Neil headed straight for the case and took out an ordinary looking Glock. He handed you the gun and you automatically checked the magazine to find it empty. Neil only motioned for you to join him by the shooting station.

“Just aim and pull the trigger” he instructed, and you glared at him.

“With an empty magazine?”

“Yes exactly”

You shrugged and adjusted your stance, constantly feeling his gaze boring into you. Letting out a long exhalation to focus, you aimed the gun and pressed the trigger. What came next took you completely by surprise. The moment you released the trigger, a bullet flew into the barrel with a little more force than you were used to, and you stumbled, nearly falling into Neil. He caught you with one hand on your arm and grinned, seeing the dumbfounded look on your face.

“Wasn’t expecting that, huh?” he let go of you after taking one last look at your expression and took the gun back “That was an inverted bullet” he explained “So you catch it instead of firing”

That was a lot to take in. You slowly nodded, trying to process it all.

“Are you ready for inversion?” he asked after giving you space to think for a short while.

“Nope” you grinned “But lead the way”

He stared at you for a little longer then, scanning your face in search of something. But this time you stared right back, facing him with determination. After thirty seconds, which felt like much longer, he turned away and opened a heavy door on the right side of the laboratory’s wall. You followed, not knowing what to expect at all. What you did not anticipate was to enter a darkened room with the lights tinted red, where one of the walls had a massive glass window inserted into it. On the other side of the glass you could see a very similar room but with the light tinted blue. At the opposite end from where you came in there was a massive barrel-shaped metal structure with a doorway and complex mechanisms around it. You noticed that there was the exact same thing on the other side of the room.

“Any questions?” Neil was casually leaning on the wall with his hands in the pockets, observing you with a small smile.

“What’s that?” you pointed at the machine.

“That’s the turnstile. We use it to get inverted” he pushed himself upright and walked over towards you “They’ll explain how it works in technical sense during the training. But I can show you the practical side. Ready?” he run hand through his hair, ruffling it in process.

“More than ever” you took another deep breath of the day.

“Okay, so we’ll go through the turnstile once we can see ourselves entering it on the other side of the proving window” he gestured towards the glass panel.

You noticed with a start that in the other room you could see yourself and Neil. They were moving backwards. As they entered the turnstile on the blue side, Neil quickly took your hand and pulled you inside the machine. You felt the machine screech with the years of use and after a few seconds you were being led out of it and into the blue side of the room. Before you could process what just happened, Neil let go of your hand and continued his explanation:

“The air here is sealed but once we go outside you’ll have to wear an oxygen mask because your lung membranes are now inverted”

You nodded and looked at the other side and the scene playing out there. One that just happened for you mere minutes ago. You started feeling a bit dizzy by trying to understand but attempted to focus on Neil’s briefing:

“They’ll tell you all this in training but normally we wear those protective suits to avoid accidentally touching our forward selves”

“What happens if we do?”

“Annihilation” he winked, and you could only stare in shock.

“Don’t worry about that for now though” he reassured while moving towards the rack filled with respirators and hazard suits.

He handed you a mask with a small oxygen tank attached and you put it on, while he continued:

“Once we exit the airlock, you’ll feel a bit weird at first. You’ll have wind at your back and the gravity will appear reversed for the world around you. But we’ll be within a restricted area, so you’ll be safe” he put on the mask and started to open the door “If at any point you stop feeling alright, let me know okay?” he looked at you intently and you got surprised by seriousness of his gaze.

You just nodded and tried to prepare for what was about to happen. As the airlock opened and you stepped outside, you scanned the scene. The area you have entered was separated from the outside world with a tall fence and was very much like a small training zone with sparring equipment and shooting range. Carefully you took a few steps forwards and suddenly felt a gust of strong wind hit you on the back with force. You stumbled and felt Neil look at you worriedly. You took a deep breath, trying to remain calm despite feeling the familiar chill of anxiety creeping in. Usually in those moments you would try to focus on something mundane so you looked up at the sky, hoping that it would do the job. The moment you looked up, a pigeon flew by, cooing and diving near the fence. Only it was inverted for the way you perceived it. Panicked, you looked at the street visible on the horizon. The cars were running backwards too. That was enough to make the anxiety kick in.

Shit… you gasped and tried to take a deep breath but found that you could not. The respirator made you feel as though you were beginning to suffocate. Every breath was not enough. It felt as though you were stuck in an airtight container, slowly losing the precious oxygen. You turned away from Neil, hoping he won’t notice your distress. You started to hyperventilate with increasing speed. Suddenly you felt Neil’s hand touch your arm, trying to make you face him. You did not want him to see you like that, so you shook it off:

“I’m fine” your voice came out breathless.

You heard him huff out a few strong curse words before he forcefully made you face him.

“No you’re not. You’re hyperventilating” he glanced at the small barometer on your oxygen tank and frowned “Okay, look at me”

Grudgingly you forced yourself to meet his gaze, aware of your tear stained cheeks and ruined mascara. His blue eyes were steady, focused on you. He took one of your hands and placed it on his chest. Your eyes widened in slight confusion, but your mind was too busy panicking to think right now.

“You have to slow down so breathe with me” his voice was soothing; the cockiness was nowhere to be found.

He began to inhale slowly, and you tried to match his tempo while forcing yourself to calm down the racing thoughts. After a few deep breaths synced up this way you felt the wave of anxiety die down. Neil was still looking at you with concern.

“Think I’m better now” you muttered, feeling embarrassed at the scene you just made “Sorry, didn’t know it will be that bad…” you admitted shyly.

With a start you realised you still had your hand placed over his heart and that Neil was keeping it in place, looking at you with an unreadable expression. When you awkwardly tugged at your hand, he released it and asked:

“You really don’t like to ask for help, do you?”

“Not really, no” you smiled slightly, and he mirrored your expression.

Your eyes found his again and you both froze, unable to look away. After another minute, which once again felt much longer, you heard someone clear their throat awkwardly. There was someone else in the training zone. That sobered you up. You quickly took a step away from Neil and glanced at the newcomer, feigning calm and composure. It was a young man with a very anxious expression on his face. You briefly wondered how long he stood there.

“Patrick” Neil greeted him with a handshake “Everything alright?”

“Yeah” Patrick looked in your direction quickly “They need you for a mission”

“Now?”

Patrick just nodded. Neil walked back to you:

“Apologies but as you see I’m needed” he squeezed your hand quickly and you just gaped at him.

Only once he started walking back into the building, did you sober up:

“And you’re just going to leave me here?! I’m bloody inverted!” you shouted, ignoring the terrified look on Patrick’s face.

“Well… yes” Neil shrugged and sent you that annoying roguish grin “Patrick here can help you with the turnstile. I’m sure you two will manage”

You really wanted to punch him.

“Oh and your training begins tomorrow” he added “Anna will tell you the details” and with that he was gone.

Fucking hell… you groaned and looked at Patrick who stared at the ground, clearly hoping that the earth would consume him any second now.

You felt very tired.

[theshapeofhorror]

Michael Myers in John Carpenter’s Halloween (1978) - Part 2

I personally think that John Carpenter’s Halloween in general puts most of the later entries to the franchise to shame for one reason or another, but mostly in regards to Michael Myers as a character and the way he’s both portrayed as well as utilised throughout the movie.

(That’s not to say no other movie has done the character justice. I enjoy most of Michael’s iterations throughout the franchise, though admittedly some more as a guilty pleasure and others only to simp for rather than because they’re genuinely good portrayals.)

1. Michael’s presence throughout this movie is constant - yet we don’t actually get a good, close-up look at the mask until very late in the movie

For most of the movie we get to see Michael from one of two “perspectives”: we stalk his victims with him from behind his shoulder (I talked more about this in my post about the voyeuristic subtext of Halloween 1978) or we see him standing somewhere off in the distance. Especially the stalking scenes persist throughout almost the entire runtime of the movie, the last one occuring at around 57 minutes when he watches Linda and Bob make out on the couch.

And yes, technically we can see the mask while he stalks Laurie around Haddonfield, but with the distance between him and the camera and the short length of those scenes it’s hard to really look at it, especially if you watch the movie for the first time and aren’t on, like, the 20th rewatch in the span of a month - not that I’d ever do something like that, of course...

As for when we finally get to see a close-up of the mask, I guess you could argue for one of three moments: Michael killing Annie in the car, Michael about to pin Bob to the wall or Michael picking up the phone after he strangled Linda. I personally would argue for the last, as the camera hovers outside the car in the scene with Annie, our view blurred through the windshield,  and the mask is half-hidden in shadow when he kills Bob. All of these scenes happen rather late in the movie, the earliest - Michael killing Annie - more than 50 minutes into the ~1:30hr runtime. 

2. The movie manages to make Michael creepy without having any actual on-screen gore

It’s the suggestion that scares us, the unnerving physical vocabulary established by Nick Castle, the way he lurks in the shadows or stands outside in broad daylight, slowly closing in on his mostly unsuspecting victims. 

We don’t need to constantly see Michael kill to be afraid of him (or simp for him...) here, it’s the anticipation of when he’s finally going to do it, the payoff of tension when he finally does.

The kills are shot in a way that don’t need shocking gore-filled imagery to be terrifying and poignant; with Michael choking all of his victims in some way and his vocalizations throughout they have a fascinating but horrifying sexual subtext to them that many of the later sequels sadly never returned to.

3. Michael as an ambiguous character

With enough scenes to support either a connection to the supernatural or a strictly human Michael - or both - this movie leaves the interpretation of his character mostly to the viewer. We can believe Loomis’ monologues about Michael being simply evil, not at all a man - yet Michael displays many small quirks and shows behavior that directly disprove this as well.

Michael

accidentally walks into the flower pot in front of the door when he spies on an undressed Annie

tilts his head at her in the background after she gets locked into the laundry room

tilts his head after killing Bob

dresses up as a ghost 

sets up the ‘haunted house’ for Laurie

... and those are just the most obvious instances of him showing behavior that doesn’t fit the description of a consciousless, purely-driven-to-kill force of evil. (I’m probably going to come back to this topic in more detail at some point.)

It’s the small things like him stopping for a second when he notices Tommy after he grabs the wrong kid that make this portrayal so fascinating to me, those clear hints that there is a (evil, psychopathic, dangerous) human being beneath that mask, despite what Loomis tells us.

With ambiguity I don’t only mean the “is or isn’t he supernatural”-debate, I also mean the question behind Michael’s motives or the lack of them, what his reasons for killing are. Take for example Halloween 2: it wants you to believe that Michael hunts Laurie because she’s his sister, which is not only much less interesting but also written really badly. This is a pitfall many of the sequels fall into for me personally; I feel like trying to explain Michael just isn’t a concept you can ever get to work in a satisfying way.

4. The un-masking scene

I could probably rant for days about the last 20 minutes of the movie, but I’m gonna keep it simple here: casting Tony Moran for the unmasking scene was a stroke of genius. It plays into an aspect that I feel sets the original Michael apart from many other slashers: there’s nothing obviously wrong with him. He looks unassuming, even handsome. 

Add to that the contrast between his inhuman strength and his normal physical build as well as his way of moving throughout the rest of the movie (graceful, but also unnaturally still, unnerving to look at without steering into zombie-like or otherwise inhuman territory) - all of it proves him to be human without actually humanizing him too much.

It’s a shame that most of the sequels didn’t try to do anything like this again (I know the Halloween 5 unmasking scene exists but I honestly wish it didn’t, so lets not talk about that here) - I’m very happy they went back to the concept of showing Michael both with as well as without the mask in Halloween 2018.

5. And finally - the end of the movie!

This is very biased as I’m a total sucker for open-ended movies, as long as they don’t leave any critical questions unanswered. But I think this also applies at least somewhat objectively to the Halloween franchise: most of the endings that had Michael die got retconned sooner or later anyway, most of them not in a very convincing way.

The movie’s last moments with Michael breathing in the background while  we revisit the locations we saw throughout the movie hammers home the thought that he could be everywhere and that nothing can stop him, and that - to me - is a very poignant and satisfying scene to end the movie on.

[mrsluttystark]

Repeat After Me

Tony was growing tired of his life, the never ending routine he’d tied himself down to.  Even with a fiancee, a stable job, and a comfortable life, there was hardly a time where he didn’t think about the past to escape the present.  He could never have guessed a simple friend request and a pretty Peter Parker would be his undoing as well as his sanctuary. 18+

Part 1 | Part 2

Tags: nff, age difference, former teacher/student

Word count: 3.1k

Read below the cut

Peter hadn’t been on Facebook in years...technically.  Maybe every so often just to update his profile picture so people knew he didn’t still look like a 15 year old with a face riddled with baby fat.  Sure, he could just delete his account, but he’ll admit he likes knowing what his high school classmates are up to.  It was interesting to see how some people he’s known since elementary school turned out now that they were all college graduates.  He’s never interacted in those times, just lurked and scrolled for a few minutes before he came across a corny meme or a factually incorrect post that looks like it was screenshotted a million times and had to exit.

He was extra bored tonight, though.  Peter tried not to think about how quiet it was now that he lived in his own apartment.  Aunt May had moved in with her boyfriend after Peter graduated and landed a job at Oscorp. It came with a starting bonus and a large paycheck that allowed Peter to live comfortably on his own while he worked in the R & D department. A compromise made with Norman Osborn instead of selling him the rights to the web fluid he created in college.  Peter wanted to continue to develop it front and center; find every possible application for it. So much so, that he didn’t get to go out much. Ned was in DC at his NASA internship, living out his “guy in a chair” dreams.  MJ was somewhere in Asia, backpacking with her girlfriend.  The friends he made at Columbia went their separate ways.

So this was his life now. Wake up, go to work, come home, sleep. Alone.

After getting home from work around 6 pm, Peter went for an hour long run, ate dinner, and showered.  8 pm found him sitting on his living room sofa, flipping aimlessly between different streaming services unable to find anything interesting to watch.  He went through Instagram, Twitter, and even Tumblr a few times before the last “you’re all caught up!” notification popped up on his phone. So, with a heavy sigh, he propped two pillows against the wall for him to lean on, flopped down on his bed, and opened Facebook.

The first post Peter saw was a life event update from Flash Thompson, his high school nuisance, (“bully” would be giving him too much credit) “In a Relationship with Brad Davis”. Peter huffed out a breath, not really surprised with how much Flash used to tease him about being openly bisexual. Penis Parker. How original.

A memory appeared at the top of his feed from 7 years ago, today.  It was a picture of him and Ned when they finished building his Lego Death Star.  Peter smiled at that, Ned was holding it above his head with a beaming smile plastered on his face.  His younger self had both scrawny arms thrown in the air looking triumphant as ever, curls unruly, and rectangular metal glasses falling halfway down his nose.

Peter was glad he filled out a bit since he was 15 and traded in wearing glasses daily for contacts.  His curls were still nice and floppy, the tips of them tickling his ears, but he liked it that way.  Plus, he could tame them when he wanted to.

He scrolled for a while longer, watched a few videos of cats being adorable assholes and one-pot recipes, went on Marketplace to see what people in his area were selling.  He even went through his old pictures and deleted the incredibly embarrassing ones, and updated his profile picture to his most recent selfie.  

This Facebook arc was coming to a quick end, he could feel the boredom seeping back in. He looked to his right, the bright red digital numbers on his clock read 10:05 pm. Good enough.  He can turn in for the night without feeling inept.

Thumb poised, ready to swipe the App closed, his eyes caught on a name in the “People You May Know” section.  Tony Stark. As in, Mr. Stark, his Sophomore Chemistry teacher. AKA his most inappropriate high school crush.  Despite being alone, Peter could feel the tips of his ears heat up.

Wow, he hadn’t thought of Mr. Stark in years.

Alright, that’s not true.  Peter thinks about him every time he wonders why he has an affinity for older men. Besides the point, he’s taken back to Midtown, sitting front row, head balanced on his palm watching dreamily as Mr. Stark explained how atoms and molecules join together through ionic and covalent bonding (which Peter already knew, so it was fine that he was zoning out).  The man’s voice was like honey, words oozing smooth and sweet, rumbling deeply in his chest.  Peter remembers every time he caught his eye while he scanned the room during lectures.  Mr. Stark was 30 then, it was his first year teaching, and a 15 year age gap seemed like a canyon.  

Peter tapped on his name to go to his profile so he can get a better look at his picture. His heart was racing, despite a few sporadic grey hairs at his temples, some crows feet wrinkling at the corner of his eyes, and deeper smile lines, he looked the absolute same.  Fucking hot. If anything, all those things made him look even sexier.  Licking his lips, Peter tried to go through his profile to see more photos of the man, unfortunately he had a lot of his privacy settings on so there wasn’t much to see but his last profile picture update and location.  He still lived in New York, so that was a plus, but Peter wanted - needed to see more.

His thumb hovered over the Add Friend button.  It wouldn’t be weird, would it? He was Facebook friends with other teachers from Midtown.  He graduated over four years ago, and he wasn’t a lovesick kid with a school boy crush anymore.  Fuck it, right? The worst he can do is deny the friend request.

Tap.

“Add Friend” turned into “Cancel Request”, and Peter blew out a large breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

Alright, Peter.  Time to turn in. He said to himself as he threw his phone onto his bed and got up to brush his teeth.  No use waiting around, he wasn’t going to accept it tonight or any time soon for that matter.  When he got back from the bathroom, he didn’t even bother looking at his phone.  He plugged it in, placed it face down on his nightstand, and drifted off to sleep.

A few minutes later, the man’s phone lit up with a Facebook notification, unbeknownst to a slumbering Peter Parker.

-

Tony’s daily routine had been rather monotonous lately, to say the least.  Since he’d made his way up the proverbial ladder of life and moved on from being a teacher to becoming a senior engineer at a major tech conglomerate, you’d think his day-to-day life of overseeing technical advancement projects wouldn’t be so boring.

The paycheck was substantially bigger than when he was a high school teacher and the amount of technology he had access to was more than the idle body walking the street could ever dream of, but…he missed teaching.  He missed the kids.  The pure unadulterated joy they displayed whenever Tony praised them on their science projects.  He watched over brilliant men and women every day but nothing compared to the ambition of those kids.  

Tony often found himself dreading going to work each day, and coming home to an empty house and take-out food his fiancée left for him that night.

Pepper was a great woman.  Fierce and reliable.  She was there when Tony’s parents died.  She even stuck through all the years of Tony trying to decide what he wanted to do with his life. So, naturally, Tony proposed to her when he graduated from college. As a “thank you” and as a promise.  That once he had enough money he would make an honest woman out of her.  Of course, she already was an honest woman.   It was Tony who needed the support, she was all he had left besides Rhodey, but he decided to join the Air Force and shipped off right after graduation.  Tony sees him every couple of months, if even that.

She has had all these years to focus on her own career as well while Tony worked menial jobs and then became a teacher.  When Tony finally got the Mechanical Engineer job, she was so relieved to not have to be the only one taking care of the bills.  Though she never said it, Tony knew. Pepper is the head of HR at Oscorp as well as Norman Osborn’s personal assistant.  Operating at the same routine for seven years now and she doesn’t seem to be bored, but that’s Pepper - reliable.

It’s been nine years since Tony asked her to marry him, and he’s been financially capable of paying for an adequate wedding for two of them.  The truth is, Pepper has become a part of the monotony that Tony is so tired of.

Tony opened the door to their apartment, the main hall light illuminating the dark wood flooring and the entry table he tossed his keys down on. Toeing off his shoes, he could already smell the Thai food Pepper had eaten and left for him.  He flipped the lights on and made his way to the kitchen, loosening his tie and unbuttoning the first two buttons in the process.  Rounding the large white marble island at the center, Tony reached into the bottom cabinet, pulled out a bottle of scotch, and poured himself a finger before throwing the left-overs in the microwave to heat up.  

A little white card with Pepper’s uniform handwriting sat on the table next to the take-out bag: Emergency at work. Don’t wait up. Love you, Pep x.  Tony took a sip of his drink, unaffected, it’s been happening more as of late with Oscorp’s new launch around the corner.

“JARVIS, could ya turn on the TV for me? Oh, and heat up my food.” Tony spoke into the open space.  He’d been working on his own Artificial Intelligence software in his spare time and recently implemented it-him into their apartment’s security and electrical.  Pepper was wary at first, seeing Tony put up cameras in every single room. Even the bathroom, Tony?  He assured her that it was unhackable, bet it on his life.

“Certainly, sir.”  A disembodied british voice replied.  Sure enough, the TV powered on and the microwave came to life.  

“Thanks, J.”  Tony would be lying if he said he wasn’t proud of himself.  He’d been drawing up the specs for JARVIS since he was in high school, now he finally had the means to develop him.

When the microwave turned off, Tony gathered up his plate and went to sit on the black leather sectional in the living room.  Shoveling a mouth full of pad thai with his chopsticks, he kicked up his feet to rest them on the ottoman in front of him. He very well knows he could just pull out his phone and look, but he wanted to give JARVIS a little workout.

“Got anything new for me?”

“An email from Mr. Justin Hammer about a job offer, would you like me to read it aloud to you, sir?” Tony waved his hand dismissively with a sour expression.  Justin Hammer, a sad excuse for a tech mogul, cutting corners for a bigger pay off.

“Delete it, will ya?”

As Tony scrapes the rest of his plate clean, he rises off the couch and stretches his arms and body.  The pain in his lower back calls for a hot shower to soothe his aching muscles.  Earlier today he’d been bent over his lab table working on an advanced prosthesis that can form to any amputee with ease and give them full range of motion like it was theirs, not just a placeholder.  He was grateful his employer seemed to actually care about the greater good.

Tony went to pour himself another finger before retreating to the bedroom to take that shower his body was craving.  He undressed slowly, watching himself in the full length mirror opposite the foot of his California King bed. The tie went first, falling lightly to the carpeted floor.  He unbuttoned the rest of his shirt and tossed it in the laundry basket along with his slacks.  Olive skin pulled taut against the small yet defined muscles of his stomach, chest, and arms littered with various burns and scars from working with robotics and chemicals.  

Tony definitely wasn’t 21 anymore but he knew he looked good for 37. He could only thank his genes for that and the still full head of hair despite his greying temples that he never bothered to dye.

“JARVIS, shower?” He heard the water splash against the tile of the shower floor and waited until he could see the steam bellow out into the hall to down the rest of his glass and make his way to the bathroom.

The hot spray connecting with his cool skin made him jump a little until he got used to the heat enough to relax.  The buzz he was feeling from the scotch aiding the water in loosening his muscles.  After washing his hair, Tony decided to stand beneath the spray for a while longer, reveling in the gentle caress of the water.

He then grabbed his mesh loofah ball, poured some body wash on it, and started scrubbing his body.  Washing away the trials and tribulations of the day, along with some oil and grease.  He worked over his arms, chest, and back.  Bent over to wash his legs and feet, then dragged the loofah over his ass and stomach before he lightly grazed his cock, making it twitch in response.

God, he was so wound up, he and Pepper hadn’t had sex in over two months.  Always so busy, always just missing each other.  When they did happen to be home at the same time, they were too tired to do anything.

He wrapped a soapy hand around his shaft and stroked lazily to work himself to full hardness, which didn’t take very long.  Tony tried thinking about Pepper but he couldn’t quite imagine her face and her body, the scotch must be making his mind hazy.  He chuckled softly at the thought, not even believing it himself.

Searching through his brain for something to get him there, Tony grunted in annoyance that nothing was coming to him.  

He thought harder, until a body started to form in his mind.  Smooth pale skin over a lithe, hard body.  The V at the bottom of the abdomen pointing to a skinny dick with a pretty pink head.  Tony had a fondness toward pretty twinks in college, the one he was imagining mirrored the ones he fucked before he met Pepper.

His hand began stroking faster as his thoughts got more detailed.  In his mind, he stretched the young man open with his fingers before seating his newly opened hole on Tony’s larger, thicker cock.  He braced himself with one arm against the shower wall while his other hand tightened around his shaft.  Hunched over, eyes closed, he saw a pert little ass bouncing up and down, swallowing every inch of him.  He moaned loudly, keenly aware that he was home alone, imagining high whimpers and whines thrumming in his ears as the boy in his mind came.  Tony came in spurts down the drain soon after with a choked off groan.

Rinsing himself again, he got out of the shower, quickly toweled off his body and hair before wrapping it around his waist and making his way out into the bedroom once again.  His body definitely felt looser than it had been when he arrived home from work.  Pulling out another of the same bottle of scotch from the small bar cart he had in his room, he poured himself another drink.

“Have a good shower, sir?”  If Tony didn’t know any better, he’d think JARVIS was taunting him.

Tony scowled and raised an eyebrow at the ceiling.

“I don’t remember programming you to be nosy.” He mumbled under his breath.

“Actually, sir. You designed me to do exactly that.”

“Or to give me lip.” No response.

“You did receive a new notification in your absence.  Would you like to know what it is?” He took a sip of his drink.

“Yeah, sure.”

“You received a Facebook friend request from a Mr. Peter Parker.”

Peter Parker? Why did that seem familiar?

“Throw it up on the screen for me, J.”  The flatscreen lit up, displaying Peter’s profile.

The first thing Tony noticed was the sharp, angular jawline coupled with high cheekbones.  A stark contrast to the delicate chestnut curls pushed back into a nice cowlick wave.  His smile was bright, pure, and genuine, like the photo had been snapped right as he finished laughing.

It wasn’t until Tony looked at his eyes did he realize who this was.  The soft brown eyes were identical to a lanky teenage boy that sat in the front row of his Chemistry class when he taught at Midtown High.  Even behind his wiry glasses back then, Tony could tell that his eyes radiated a wholesome energy - just like they did now.  That had been...what? Seven years ago?  Peter was one of his most brilliant students.  Hardly paid attention in class but knew the material like the back of his hand.

Tony almost felt guilty about finding him attractive. Almost.

He accepted the request without another thought.  Peter would be 22 by now, nothing weird about that, right?  He scrolled through his basic info.  Still lives in New York.  Graduated from Columbia.  Single.  Interested in men and women.  He doesn’t ever really post anything, then again neither did Tony.  The only things on his page were happy birthday posts and tagged photos from his Aunt May.  Tony remembered parent/teacher conferences with her, he guessed being smokin’ hot ran in the family.

Tony couldn’t bring himself to feel bad about potentially lusting over this kid.  He’d always been faithful to Pepper, but something was missing.  Tony craved excitement and some inkling of control over his life.  Besides, he could look, as long as he didn’t touch.  This is just a Facebook friendship after all.

He pulled the Facebook app up on his phone and tapped on the “Message” icon.  When the screen pulled up the chat box, Tony gulped down the rest of his scotch, feeling just on the right side of drunk, and typed out two words.

Hey, Kid.

-

tags: @sweetqueen449, @slut-for-starker, @dim-ships-johnlock, @starkerhowlter, @sthefystarkersworld, @crazycocococonut, @bris-sins, @delicateavenuenacho, @problemchildnoonewanted (I’ll def be implementing some of your points in future chapters!)

[joonsrack]

+Pairing: Namjoon x fem!reader, Taehyung x fem!reader (one-sided), 

+Genre: Angst, humor, fluff, two-shots, sfw

+Word count: ~8.5k

+Warning: Mention of past recreational drug use (weed), blood mention (nosebleed), lot of pinning 

+Rating: Pg13

+Summary: 

Your roommate and long-time one-sided crush disappears one morning, leaving behind only a post-it note stating two things:

1. He’s off to finally meet the love of his life whom he met on the internet, might take the whole summer;

2. He’s sub-renting his room while he’s gone, don’t worry it’s all taken care of;

+A/N: Just six days late, nothing too major. This is the first part of a two-shot I’m writing for the bangtanscenery collab: April Shower & May Flower. This didn’t turn out as expected, but it is what it is lmao. Thank you to @gguksgalaxy for helping me brainstorm, and @spicykoreantatertots and @starlightseoks​ for reading over my stuff, fixing my mistakes and giving me the validation I needed to carry on 💖

The first day of summer vacation is supposed to be a good day, a great day even. No more finals, no more studying; just warm weather, lazing around, and maybe picking up some shifts at the grocery store.

Today is all of that, but it’s also the worst day of your life.

It had started as it was supposed to; no alarm clock, just your body waking up by itself. You had messed around on your phone for a while, not caring about the time you were wasting. After the last three weeks of nerve-wracking deadlines and exams, you had deserved a break. The next thing on your schedule was work on Thursday, meaning you had two days completely to yourself. You had big plans for these two days; doing absolutely nothing.

But then, as the day was slowly shifting from morning into noon, the stillness of the house cued you that something was… not right.

As you have come to learn, your roommate, Taehyung, is not one to go about his summer day without his 20 minutes of morning stretching on zen nature sounds. Sometimes you join him, sometimes you don’t. He has a morning routine that he sticks to a T, and in a way, you find the sound of him doing his routine comforting.

Two years you’ve been living together now; or well, almost two years.

You had met in your first semester of freshman year, both residing in the same co-ed dorm. The horror of shared bathroom, kitchen, and living areas had prompted you two to throw caution to the wind and start living together, even if you were both still technically strangers. Two years later, the concept of being a stranger with Taehyung is so far fetched, it’s like you’ve never not known each other.

Which is why this comes as a slap to your face.

After finally making it out of your room and to the kitchen, you find in lieux of your roommate, a single post-it note, stuck to his old fashioned shelf stereo.

There are barely fifteen words on it, but that’s enough to destroy your post-final, beginning of summer haze:

Going back to Korea for the summer, I’m finally going to meet Busan_baby!

I sub-rented my room, he should get here soon :) xx

Objectively, Taehyung doing spontaneous things is not out of character. But this… Leaving for a whole summer, without even hinting at it...

You had plans for this summer. Plans that consisted of spending quality time with him, and maybe, possibly, finally confessing to him. Him leaving kind of put a wrench into that.

Plus.

Busan_baby…

The mysterious internet friend that’s been plaguing Taehyung’s mind since they met during an Overwatch raid, whatever that means.

Your two-year crush had only evolved in the time you were living together, and a part of you had become possessive overtime. So these days, only the mention of Tae’s friend’s username was enough to put you in the worst of moods. And now you’re going to lose your summer with your roommate to her? To a perfect stranger living on the other side of the planet?

And the whole sub-renting situation...you’re boiling. He just... rented his room. To someone you might not know, with whom you’ll be stuck all summer.

The first day of summer vacation is supposed to be a good day. This, this is not a good day.

Your first reaction is to, well, do nothing. You feel tears of frustration welling up in your eyes, and you recognize the burning sensation in your chest as anger. You feel a little ridiculous; you’re always factoring Taehyung into your plans, always have, but clearly he isn’t giving you the same kind of courtesy. You grab your phone, knowing he hasn’t sent you any text, but checking anyways. You have no idea what time he left, he could already be in the plane for all you know, but you send him a message anyways.

Me 1:27pm: Is this a joke?

You wipe a tear away, trying to breathe through the negativity. He must have had his reason, he does have his whole family in Korea, maybe they’re the real reason he left and he’s just joking with you.

Just as the thought is starting to make sense, you hear the key in the lock, and your heart starts beating double time.

It was all the prank, he’s not leaving for real, it’s him coming back to surprise you. See? You had nothing to worry about. The smile grows on your face, and you quickly dry the tears track on your face, not wanting Taehyung to tease you about them.

But doubt quickly sets in your mind when it’s clearly taking too long for whoever on the other side to open the door. The bolt is old, and it had taken you and Taehyung weeks before you had been able to know the right way to unlock it without struggling.  

You can hear them struggling with the key, rattling the doorknob, until finally the bolt clicks into place and the door swiftly swings open. Obviously, whoever is on the other side wasn’t expecting it to give, and they stumble past the doorsill, barely missing the floor by a few centimeters.

You’re shocked into stillness, watching the catastrophe unveil.

Mystery man then trips on the entry mats, throwing him forward once again until his head gets dangerously close to the kitchen table; but like a seasoned tripper, he flips his body mid-plunge, landing hard but cushioned by the shag carpet of the living room.

He groans, rolling on his side holding his head in between his hands, and you’re too shocked to do anything but stare in both horror and wonder.

The living trainwreck on the floor doesn’t seem to have noticed your presence yet, and you’re inclined to just lay low and wait until you can observe more accidental gymnastics, but you realize that would be weird. Would it be weirder than everything you’ve just witnessed though?

You clear your throat to announce your presence, and he freezes, opens one eye, spots you, closes it again, and groans even louder.

“Is there any chance you just materialized now and missed all of that.”

You shrug emphatically.

“I can lie if that makes you feel better.”

He sits up, smiling grimly and resigned, like this is not the first time this has happened.

You would go offer him a hand but you also have no idea who this man is, what he’s doing in your apartment, with a key, and seemingly enough bad luck to bring this whole building down by himself.

“So… Who might you be?”

He looks up to you in confusion, and for a second you think you also see hurt flicker across his eyes, but it disappears as fast as it appeared.

“Taehyung… didn’t tell you?”

Right, sub-renting.

You grab the post-it off the stereo and wave it in his direction, letting him connect the dots.

“He just did.” You say, voice dripping with sarcasm, and he winces, noticing how you’re clearly unhappy with the whole ordeal.

“I thought you knew...I... fuck. I can leave if you want? You don’t look like you agreed to this.”

You sigh, feeling bad that you made him feel bad. It’s not his fault after all. Plus, him sub-renting means he most probably doesn’t have a place to stay right now.

“No, no. Of course not. It’s not your fault, I’m just… he didn’t even tell me he was leaving. It’s a lot.”

Silence fills the room, and he smiles awkwardly at you before dusting himself off. You take the opportunity to finally properly look at him.

He looks vaguely familiar now, with his tall body, long limbs and soft brown hair. He’s wearing grandfather clothes, but it’s strangely fitting with his energy. The glasses perched on his nose are slightly crooked, but it doesn’t like it’s from the fall. It looks permanent.

If he’s Taehyung’s friend, you probably saw him around Uni or something.

“So, I still don’t know your name?” You finally break the silence, and he looks startled by the question, pushing the glasses up his nose.

“Kim Namjoon. Well, Namjoon Kim here.” He finishes with a faint blush on his cheeks, and you nod, well aware of the whole last name difference. You’ve been living with Taehyung for two years after all.

“I’m going to try calling him, you can...get your luggage in I guess.”

“His plane was leaving 3 hours ago, I doubt you’ll be able to reach him.” He says sheepishly, as if that was his fault.

You pinch your lips in anger containment, not needing Namjoon to watch you slowly lose your sanity. You feel a surge of dark emotions invading your chest, so you have to make your escape swift.

“Cool, nice. Ok. Well, I need to... be in my room. If you have any questions just knock on my door. Or call my name.”

You’re already off into angst world, making your way to your room, so you miss Namjoon’s parting words;

“But... you haven’t told me your name, y/n.”

You feel the need to grieve the summer that could have been, so you do.

The first stage is denial.

It’s a little hard to deny though, with Taehyung gone and Namjoon currently moving into his room, so you jump straight to anger.

You would feel bad for Namjoon, you didn’t even show him to Taehyung’s room, and your welcome was pretty cold. But you can’t be blamed, this was sprung on you. You were blindsided; betrayed; fooled.

You try to remember your chats with Taehyung in the last few days, but everything is covered by a mist of confusion. The last few weeks are blurred and blended together, a mess of studying, late nights, nervous breakdowns; so you and Taehyung were not exactly talking. You were more...existing in the same space. Or crying in the same space, really.

But still, you know that if Taehyung had mentioned his plans to disappear for the summer you would have surely remembered.

You write an angry text a hundred words long, fueled by the horrible feeling of having been wronged and a need for vindication.

You don’t send the text because you know at the bottom of your heart you’re being overly dramatic, but it’s still therapeutic to act like you’re going to send it to him.

Then comes bargaining.

You write another text, this one more conciliating. You promise to be a better roommate, to stop bunching up your socks and leaving them in the cracks of the couch (although he does that too, the hypocrite), to stop stealing the Korean snacks his mom sends send him once a month (which is a big commitment; they’re just so good, you can’t find this quality in your uni town), and to stop using up all the hot water in the morning.

You also do not send this text. There’s a little too many promises in it you just know you won’t be able to hold.

You’re transitioning into the depressive stage when you hear a crash coming from the living room, followed by a few curses.

With the whole thing you witnessed earlier, you’re surprised that nothing fell victim to Namjoon’s long limbs sooner. He clearly has coordination issues; you would be worried, except pretty much everything decorating the apartment belongs to Taehyung.

Everything except…

There’s a bad feeling creeping up in your stomach. You don’t have the worst luck in life, but you also don’t have the best. And bad things usually happen in a group of three.

Taehyung ditching you for the summer, Taehyung clearly being fooled by some internet catfisher, and….

You jump to your feet, following the sound to the living room. There, your new roommate is kneeling on the floor, gathering the pieces of dried macaroni scattered around him. You can see the picture frame on the floor, the glass cracked in the middle.

The first day you had moved in together, Taehyung and you had taken a picture together with a single-use camera. You were both exhausted from the move, boxes laying all around, but beaming with satisfaction.

You had gotten a frame for it but Taehyung thought it was too bare, so one time, completely high as a kite, he’d decorated it with macaroni and hot glue.

You hold it very dear, and it has a central place in the living room. Or well, it did.

The macaroni remains on the floor is probably the saddest thing you’ve ever seen, and you can’t bear the sight of them, so you give a parting blank look to Namjoon, who’s looking up at you pale as a ghost, and you walk back to your room.

Alright, so stage one of grief; denial.

Belting your heart out to Italian music is usually your way of dealing with sorrow, but with a new and strange presence in your home, it probably won’t be happening for a while, so you settle for laying in your bed, with your curtain pulled closed and some Andrea Bocelli blasting from your earphone. It works for a while, until your stomach reminds you that you haven’t eaten all day.

You sigh, bracing yourself for yet another reminder that you’ve been basically abandoned by the possible love of your life. You come out of your room dragging your feet, only to be basically assailed but the unmistakable smell of frying garlic. You’re both disgusted and intrigued, so you pick up your pace to the kitchen, finding Namjoon there, sweat on his forehead, with a concentrated look on his face. His glasses are hanging at the tip of his nose, probably having slipped there from the sweat, and you find yourself endeared by the sight. Only for a quick second though.

“Are you sure it’s safe for you to be left alone in the kitchen?” You ask, and he whips his head towards you, clearly startled by your presence.

“Well…” He says, followed by a deprecating laugh, and you kind of feel like an asshole. He probably broke the frame by accident, and it’s not like it’s his fault that Taehyung bailed on your summer plans to go run off to who knows who the fuck busan_baby really is.

“What are you cooking?” You ask, trying to change the subject, and he looks grateful but also very nervous.

“Hm, well Taehyung told me once garlic pasta was your favorite, and since I was trying to apologize for, well the frame but also just being sprung onto you so suddenly, I figured I could cook your favorite dish...”

You nod, but you can’t contain a snort, and Namjoon’s expression becomes worried.

“Taehyung thinks that because that’s the only thing he can successfully cook, and the first time he did I didn’t have the heart to tell him I can’t stand garlic.”

Namjoon looks at the dish, then back at you, then back at the dish. You see all the energy drain from his body, face falling as he groans in frustration.

“It’s fine you didn’t know.” You try to sound as apologetic as you can, but it doesn’t seem to be helping, and he moves the pan from the burner, closing the heat, plastering a hand on his face.

“This is going all wrong. This day is just mess after mess. I’m so sorry I’m usually much better at human interaction, I’m just very nervous right now, I guess.”

You want to ask what he’s so nervous about, but you feel like it might not help his distraught state. “Ok so, clearly this was doomed from the start.” You say, and his face falls even more, so you hurry to finish your thought before he can jump to conclusions.

“You showed up while I was having a horrible day; I had no idea you were coming; you...tripped and fell in front of me, probably making you feel embarrassed, then all this nervous energy lead to you having another clumsy accident, and I probably didn’t help with my overall coldness… and now, this, which again, is totally not your fault…” You let the silence hang for a little longer before you finish your thought. “ I think we should start over.”

“...What?”

“Yeah, I think we should start over. Like, come here.” You wave your hand in a motion for him to follow after you, and he does, albeit definitely looking reluctant.

You lead him to the front door, opening it, waiting for him to get the cue. He stands there, looking a little dumbfounded, glimpsing down at his slipper clad feet.

“Come on, only for a second.”

He finally follows your directions, stepping outside in the hallway, and you close the door behind him. After a good 30 second of silence, you realize he might be dumber than he looks.

“You’re supposed to knock.” You say just loud enough for him to hear on the other side, and there’s a split second before he finally does.

You throw the door open with the biggest smile you can muster, and he stares at you in actual worry.

“Hello Namjoon Kim, nice to meet you! Taehyung totally told me you were coming! Come on in!”

Namjoon finally catches up, pinching his lips to stop himself from smiling.

“Nice to meet you,-” He greets back, taking a step into the apartment, but the sole of his slipper gets caught on the doorsill, ripping it off.

He stares down at his slippers in betrayal, and you have to bite the inside of your cheeks to hold back a cackle.

“At this point, I don’t know how to convince you I’m not like this 24/7.” He says, and he looks a little bit more relaxed than before, which is good.

“I’m sorry to say that ship has sailed.”

Going to sleep at five in the morning is never the right decision, even when you have nothing planned, but the prospect of watching Hannah Brown finally eliminating Luke P off The Bachelorette is just too good, keeping you wide awake until you finally get the satisfaction of seeing the smug smile being wiped off his face. Taehyung was so looking forward to this, cursing out the man after every episode, and not having him by your side, yelling incoherently at your computer screen, definitely made you sad.

There's also the whole waiting-for-a-text-that-never-came thing.

You know his flight landed, you looked at the flight time between where you are and Incheon airport. The realization that you weren’t even worth an “I’ve just landed” text is enough to ruin you Luke P elimination afterglow, sending you straight to sleep.

So being rudely awoken at 9 a.m., eyes sore from the lack of sleep and maybe some possible tears of frustration, is not the best feeling.

At first you think you dreamed it, a loud crash from somewhere in the apartment, but then the groans of pain that follows are sounding pretty damn real.

You throw the comforter off, jumping out of bed in the same breath, trying to locate the source of the commotion but still woozy with sleep, and you find its origin in the bathroom;

Very naked, save for the shower curtain draped over the figure.

Namjoon squeals at the sight of you, making sure all the important bits are covered with the curtain that he probably dragged in his apparent fall, half of it still hanging off the pole.

Your sleep-deprived brain slowly catches up to the situation, and you slap both hands over your eyes, turning around with the intention to get out of dodge, only to walk straight into the door frame. The impact makes you lose your balance, the unforgiving tiles making contact with your ass at the speed of light. There’s a throbbing pain in your backside and there’s definitely something dripping from your nose. Another beautiful start to your summer vacation.

It’s your turn to groan, holding your head back to stop the blood from dripping all over your PJs. There’s wet fumbling in the general area of the shower, the sound of the water being cut off and then a moment later, a very naked man appears in your field of vision.

“Hum.” Is all you say, as he snatches his boxer brief from the counter, slipping them on in a flash. But you’ve seen. You’ve witnessed. You’re a changed person now.

“I forgot my towel.” He answers back, face so red it looks like it must hurt. There’s still shampoo suds in his wet hair, dripping down his forehead, neck, and shoulders, but he doesn’t seem to care as he grabs the toilet paper roll, offering it to you.

“Are you ok?” he asks with concern in his voice. He’s kneeling in front of you, skin glistening, and the sight he makes doesn’t help with your blood pressure. His handsomeness didn’t escape your notice, but this….this is a little overwhelming.

“I’ve known you for less than 24 hours and I’ve already seen your junk; I’m great.”

He looks a little thrown by what you’ve just said, but you can blame it on a concussion later, so you’re not too worried.

“Lean forward and breath through your mouth,” He says, choosing to ignore your comment. You follow his recommendation, pinching your nose.

“You seem familiar with nosebleeds.” You tease, knowing full well he’s clearly the clumsy type.

“I’ve had my share of encounters with flat surfaces.”

“So are you gonna tell me what possessed you to shower in the middle of the night?”

“Is 9 a.m. the middle of the night?” He asks, a grin playing at his lips.

“It sure is during summer vacation.”

Namjoon chooses to ignore your admission of being a living, breathing, couch potato.

“I wanted to go get a new pair of slippers, maybe a new frame as well. I obviously need to add a new shower curtain to the list.”

You look up at the way his tone goes slightly somber from irritation, and you’re having none of that;  it’s 9 am, middle of the night, and all you want right now is everything to be happy and breezy.

“Do you mind if I tag along? I wanted to get a corkboard for all my pictures, so I won’t need a new frame actually. We could go get some middle of the night breakfast too.”

His eyes light up, a new energy filling the room.

“Of course! You can, totally.”

His metaphorical tail seems to be wagging, and you’re a little confused about the source of his sudden excitement, but he seems to be in a good mood so that’s the important part here.

“Alright then, I’ll let you finish your shower- oh my god, wait. Are you ok? I heard you fall; that did not sound like a painless descent.”

Namjoon winces, rubbing at the back of his head like he’s suddenly reminded of the pain.

“I’ll survive with only slight bruising, it’s all good.”

You nod, relieved he didn’t hurt himself seriously.

“Let’s get you some bubble wrap while we’re there.” You tease, and he rolls his eyes, probably having heard that one before.

There’s this moment of silence where neither of you are moving, and you’re wondering what he’s waiting for to go back in the shower.

“So...are you waiting to get another peek at my junk, or?” He teases.

You blush, staring at him dumbfounded. Your sleepy brain says yes, but your pride says no.

“Right, let me get out of here.”

You take your roll of toilet paper with you as you leave, pride almost intact.

Both of your loudly growling stomachs make the decision for the order of things, and your first stop is the cheap dinner a few streets down. The usual grumpy waiter that you’ve grown fond of is on shift, and his eyes zeroes straight on you two the second you step in.

His regular glare is already pretty intimidating, but the intensity of his stare is enough to make you want to take a menu and hide behind. Instead you walk with Namjoon to the table you usually sit at with Taehyung.

“Hey Joon.” Is the first thing Yoongi says, throwing the menu on the table with all the lack of grace in the world. Namjoon salutes him back with the ease of someone who’s used to being the target of Yoongi’s laser focus. You deduce they’re friends, by the way they seem to have a silent conversation with their eyes.

He switches his focus to you after a beat, and you gulp loudly, confused by the inquisition in his stare.

“Hi Y/N, where’s your tragic love story?”

Your jaw drops to the table, shocked by Yoongi’s blunt call out of your unrequited love for Taehyung. You two often come to eat here, but clearly you come too often if Yoongi figured you out so accurately.

“Jesus am I that obvious?” You mutter, picking up a menu to avoid looking at either man. You don’t need to see Namjoon's reaction when learning you’re crushing on your roommate who’s also one of his friends.

Yoongi snatches the menu out of your hands, having none of that.

“The usual I presume?” He asks snapingly, throwing one last unimpressed look at Namjoon before walking away.

Namjoon waits before he’s out of earshot to sigh. “Who pissed in his cereal this morning?” he scoffs, trying to lighten the mood, and you’re grateful for his attempt but you’re also feeling pretty shitty; why do your feelings for Taehyung seem so obvious to everyone but Taehyung himself?

“Well, I guess the elephant is out of the bag”, you say with fake enthusiasm. You want to be mad at Yoongi for his brusque ways, but Namjoon would probably have figured it out one way or another. This is kind of ripping the bandaid in a way.

There’s another beat of silence before Namjoon clears his throat, and you brace yourself for what he’s going to say, which is why what he asks comes as a surprise.

“Are you ok?”

His voice is empathic, genuine.

You look up to him, eyes a little glossy.

He’s got a kind face; a dimple here, soft corner smile there; eyes searching but not judging, the crooked glasses giving him a nerdy look. Yet, you’ve...seen. There’s nothing nerdy about the rest of him.

You smile sadly, biting your lips while looking back down at the table. You’ve known him for less than 24 hours and you already feel like Namjoon is the kind of person you can confide in, and before you know it, words are tumbling off your tongue.

“I guess… It just sucks that I was not even worth a ‘I’ve just landed text’. Or even better, him telling me in person that he was leaving for the summer, completely ruining all the plans we made together.” Namjoon nods along with your confession, and once you open your mouth, you just can’t shut it. “Like I’m always making sure he’s included in all of my planifications, and I always go beyond to do stuff that he likes… Like I’m sorry but I hated doing pottery, like, I suck at it. All I made always ended up having a vaguely phallic shape and I’m pretty sure the teacher was judging me, but I still put through three months of pottery class, which were very expensive by the way, because I knew Taehyung would love that. And the Pasta! I hate garlic, I can’t stand it, but I still told him it was my favorite since it’s the only thing he can cook!”

Namjoon clears his throat, looking around at the people starting to take notice of your meltdown. You were getting increasingly louder, you realize, so you sigh, letting the tension escape your body with a deep breath.

Yoongi stops by the table to drop two cups of coffee, raising an eyebrow at you, to which you answer with a glare of your own. He walks away with an evil glint in his eyes, and you already know what’s about to happen. You still risk a small sip of the steaming coffee, only to spit it back into the cup, face void of emotion.

Namjoon winces at you, offering you some napkins for the drops dripping down your chin.

“He put mustard in it, didn’t he?” He asks while you wipe your mouth, then taking your water to wash down the acre taste.

You nod slowly.

“He’s got a weird way to comfort his friends.”

You nod again, but grabbing his cup at the same time. “Do you mind?” You ask, and he agrees enthusiastically, only to frown when he sees what you do with it next.

You grab the table syrup, dripping some all over Namjoon’s coffee cup handle. You put it back on Namjoon’s side of the table, smiling warmly at him.

“Where were we?” You ask cheerfully.

“I think he might just ban me from the Dinner.” Namjoon says in a daze, looking back at where Yoongi is throwing daggers at the both of you from the window, wiping his sticky finger on his apron in vain; You know this stuff is impossible to get rid of.

You knew Yoongi would expect your handle to be sticky after the stunt he pulled, which is why you did it on Namjoon’s cup instead. You make sure to send Yoongi your most radiant smile as you walk away, waving. You should probably avoid the dinner for a few weeks.

But now, belly full of good food, mood lightened, you can go on your productive day of buying stuff. You take the bus to the closest Target, a comfortable chatter between the two of you, when something suddenly hits you between the bedroom aisle and the bathroom aisle.

“Now hold on a second; I just realized I never properly introduced myself. I mean obviously you already know my name, since Taehyung seems to have talked about me, and well, Yoongi used my name earlier too. But still... Wow, I’m so sorry I'm the worst new roommate ever.”

Namjoon shakes his head no, fiddling with the brand new slippers he picked up on the way.

“It’s...fine. Actually, well. I was hesitant to tell you since I don’t want you to feel bad about it but... we’ve already been introduced. Also we shared like, three classes so far. I’m minoring in languages.”

“Oh… Oh my god.” You say, stopping in your tracks. You look up at Namjoon with wide, confused eyes.

“It’s ok.” Namjoon says, pulling you after him into the bathroom aisle with a light touch to the arm.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry,”

“It’s fine I swear.” He reassures, steering you until you’re standing in front of the shower curtains.

“Wow, all this time I was acting like we didn’t know each other-”

“Y/N...” He tries to stop you.

“I’m sorry I have the worst memory.”

“I think it was more your complete and utter lack of interest for anyone but Taehyung that did it.” He teases, not unkindly. There’s more an air of resignation to it.

You drop your head in your hands, feeling flustered and embarrassed.

“Wow everyone really knows, huh?”

“You’re not exactly subtle.”

Maybe your friends were right; maybe you need to take a breather. Maybe this summer away from him is a good thing.

“So… Namjoon Kim, how long have we ‘known’ each other?” You question, quotation marks and everything.

“Well…” He trails off, thinking about it for a second before answering, scratching his head as he seems to be wracking his brain for the exact information. “Taehyung introduced us during one of the first dorms get-together, so I'd say as long as you’ve known Taehyung.”

You groan, pulling on one of the displayed shower curtains, hiding your face behind, doing your best impression of an ostrich burying its head in the sand.

“I’m a horrible person.” You state to no one.

“To be fair though, I was not on the same floor as you guys, so we probably didn’t see much of each other.”

God, he’s such a good person, trying to make sure you don’t feel bad with yourself for basically ignoring him for two whole years. It literally took him moving in with you to notice him. You peek from behind the curtain, not ready to come out completely.

“I feel horrible, I’m really sorry I didn't mean to ignore you for two fucking years.”

“You’re good, y/n, I understand. Actually I think that you-.” He says, but cuts himself short, mouth slamming shut.

“You think that I...?” You ask, curiously, eyebrows going up.

“No, nothing. It’s nothing.” He answers, but it’s hurried, the look on his face borderline frantic. He doubles up on the fiddling with the slippers, the price tag close to coming off with the way he’s tugging on it.

‘Curiosity killed the cat’ they say, but you’ve never listened to that; when you feel like something is being hid from you, you’re like a starving shark smelling blood. You can’t let go, you need to know what’s putting Namjoon in this state; what he was about to say about you.

“Namjoon, it’s ok, you can tell me.” You try to go for a reassuring smile, but the look in your eyes must give you away because it only serves to make Namjoon look more worried.

“I- I think that.” He clears his throat, looking around nervously. “I think that you’re holding the ugliest shower curtain I’ve ever seen.”

You frown, looking down at the aforementioned curtain you're currently still half hiding behind.

It’s truly atrocious; it’s a solid ugly grey color, the top part bare of anything, but starting from the middle, the bottom part is layers of ruffles over ruffles, hemmed by some white lace. It’s truly horrifying; very hard to look at.

“Namjoon.” You say, and his eyes finally settle on you.

“Namjoon, if you don’t tell me what you were going to say I'm making you buy this truly horrifyingly ugly curtain.”

There’s a look of pure unadulterated horror passing through his eyes, before he composes himself, looking perfectly neutral.

“It’s your bathroom, I'll buy whatever you want.” He says, voice void of infliction, and you smirk, pleased.

“Amazing, I’m so grateful you’re willing to spend seventy bucks on this curtain.”

“Seventy bucks?!” He exclaims, choking on air. You know he’s a student; students are usually poor. Simple math.

“Or… you could tell me what you were going to say, and I can settle for this beautiful plain white curtain,-” You entice, coming out of hiding to grab the other curtain on the display, stretching it out and showing it off as if you were in an infomercial. “yours for only…” You pause, checking the price tag, “ $9,99.”

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. After a moment of silence, he mutters something so quickly you can’t catch any of it.

“Come again?” You ask, turning on your heels to hug the monstrous grey ruffle disaster to yourself in a threatening manner.

“I said…” He looks about ready to take a bite out of the slipper to avoid your questioning. “ I think that you’re- I think that- It’s cute.” He stammers.

Of all the things, you were not expecting that.

“What?”

“I think it’s cute, ok? I think that you’re cute for focusing all your attention on him like that.”

You’re shocked and confused. This is not the words usually used by your friends to describe your relationship with Taehyung.

“It’s like the rest of the world around you fades away when you’re with him or you think of him, and I wish-...I wish I had someone who liked me that much too.” He finishes, the tip of his ears burning scarlet.

You take him in at that moment, this broad and tall human, with the nicest set of dimples, the soft eyes hidden behind his glasses, the overall grand-father look that he somehow rocks; The way he’s so big yet he’s got this whole gentle vibe going on; how he’s so involuntarily destructive but he also has this calm aura surrounding him.

Suddenly, you’re kind of glad Taehyung is not around. You probably would never have noticed Namjoon if he hadn’t left. It’s only been 24 hours but you already know Namjoon is the kind of person you want to befriend. And he seems to want to befriend you too, so maybe, this summer won’t be so bad.

This summer is terrible.

You get a text from your boss first thing in the morning asking you to come in early, someone else having called in sick. Your bus shows up late, making you late, and you barely have time to catch a breath before Karen, the manager, is on you, lecturing you for your tardiness. Yes, maybe you’re often late, but you can’t really help it if mother nature skipped you when handing out punctuality.

You’re barely clocked in when you’re handed some cleaning tool, a customer having made a mess with some jam pots, meaning this is going to be a sticky disaster. Then you get screamed at because some prick disagrees with the pricing of a jar of pickles, as if that had anything to do with you; You hate pickles.

It just gets dumber from there on, and when the end of your shift comes around, you can’t wait to just be back home, with nothing to do but finally watch the finale of Hannah Brown’s season and maybe stuff your face with whatever you got from the grocery haul you did yesterday.

You wonder if Namjoon is cooking anything; a part of you hopes that he isn’t, worried for the state of the kitchen; another part of you would definitely be pleasantly surprised. As long as there’s no more garlic on the horizon.

It’s kind of weird how this is technically day 3 of you being roommates and you’re already used to his presence. Of course there’s still some awkward moments, but they never last too long.

Namjoon is such a sweetheart, and there’s a part of you that is mad for basically depriving yourself of his friendship for so long. Another part is happy that you did so, or his arrival in your life wouldn’t be the perfect distraction from Taehyung abandoning you. Not that you consider him a distraction, but he’s definitely distracting.

When he’s not falling in showers, he’s singing in them, apparently. Completely off tune, his voice not the most graceful, but still very, very endearing. A shame that you had to rush to go to work while he was having his very own concert, or you would probably have gotten out your phone to gather some blackmail materials.

There’s also his possible inability to cook anything other than pasta; it’s been three days but you’ve already seen him cook some kind of spaghetti at least thrice.

You’re not the most accomplished cook, but you can manage. You have a feeling that next to Namjoon though, you probably look like a professional Michelin decorated Chef. You’re thinking about taking over mealtime when you’re home, maybe assigning him the sous-chef role. A risk that you’re willing to take so you don’t have to see what would probably be a hurt expression at being completely dismissed from the kitchen.

There’s also his ankles. He’s got such pretty ankles, you’re kind of jealous. They’re all dainty and pretty, which is not what a man probably wants to hear when talking about his body, so you’ve decided to keep this compliment to yourself.

You’re not sure exactly what he does during his day. So far you’ve observed that he spends a lot of time in sweatpants, on his computer, earphones cutting him off from the world. He had spent a few hours on the couch yesterday, a focused look on his face as he was clearly working on something, but you didn't want to bother him to ask him what he was doing.

You get home, sighing deeply as you finally take off your shoes after nine hours of standing. It’s dinner time, your stomach is growling, there doesn’t seem to be any action in the kitchen, and you don’t have the strength or patience to cook anything right now, so you grab your phone, pulling up the UberEat app.

You plop down onto the couch, bouncing slightly before properly melting into it, but you can't fall asleep now, you’re on a food-oriented mission.

You’re about to pull up the page of your favorite pizza place when something in your peripheral vision catches your eyes.

It’s Namjoon’s laptop, open on the side table, earphone hanging from the side; The screen light is dim, but you can easily recognize the face on the paused screen.

It’s John Paul Jones.

You can’t believe your eyes, and you’re so shocked, you don’t hear the bathroom door open. You jostle when Namjoon appears in a flash, slamming the laptop shut, looking particularly distraught.

“You did not just see that.” He says, hand still on his laptop, frozen in position.

“I sure fucking did.” You exclaim, eyes sparkling. This is the best thing ever. “You’re watching The bachelorette. Alone. Because this is something you actually enjoy.”

“Please don’t tell anyone.” He whines, dropping into a low squat, wiping his face down with one hand. “I swear I’m a feminist.”

“You’re a romantic, you love love.”

Namjoon groans.

“That’s why you don’t judge me for my crush. You’ve seen worse.” You marvel, and he looks up shyly at your tone.

“You don’t have to worry, I won’t tell anyone...” You linger on the pause for a moment, keeping him guessing. “As long as you promise to do your marathon with me.”

He frowns for a second, searching your face for the teasing or ‘just joking’ that he thinks is coming. But it’s not.

“You’re...a fan of The Bachelor franchise?” he wonders aloud, and you laugh out loud at the bemusement on his face.

“If by fan you mean slowly but surely making my way through all the seasons, all the series, all the content I can, then yes, I would say that I’m a fan.”

There’s a shy smile growing on his face, his dimple going the deepest you’ve ever seen them so far in your three days of co-existing. You’re on the verge of popping out a ruler and verifying once and for all how deep those really are.

“Then yes, Y/N, I will accept your offer of being your bachelor buddy.” He chuckles.

There seems to be a lot of marathons on this summer’s horizon, and you love the idea.

Going to sleep at 5 am is never a good decision, but when it’s because you were binge-watching Bachelor in Paradise with your new bachelor buddy, then you can forgive yourself.

You step out of your room, yawning, at the same time as Namjoon does.

“Hey” You greet him, to which he answers with a small wave, squinty eyes avoiding the light.

“Hungry?” You ask, scratching your head as you make your way to the kitchen, Namjoon following behind.

“Ravenous” He croaks, morning voice ten tones deeper. But it’s not affecting you. Not at all.

You open the fridge to browse the content, pulling out some milk to make yourself some cereal, going to sit at the table so you can both eat and scroll through your phone comfortably.

Namjoon sits on the other side, buttering up some toast with an impressive amount of Nutella; but you’re not judging, being an ex Nutella-addict yourself.

You pull up your text like you’ve been doing for the past few days, checking if you received any messages that your phone failed to notify you about, sighing when you still have no answer from Taehyung. You would worry, except there hasn’t been any newsworthy event about planes or Korea or anything; you’ve been following the news just to be sure.

You peek at Namjoon, who’s staring blankly into his slice of bread with the air of someone who didn’t get enough sleep. You clear your throat lightly to get his attention.

He raises unfocused eyes on you, and you have to bite back a coo at how adorably soft he looks, with his soft brown hair a mess, eyes still half-open, a light stubble slightly apparent, and his mouth hanging slack.

“Did you...did Taehyung send you a text or something? Since he left?”

It takes Namjoon a second to register the question, frowning for a split second before shaking his head.

“He hasn’t, but I wouldn’t worry. His family would have reached out if he hadn’t made it safely.”

“Hmm good point.” You nod, going back to your cereal. You’re slowly coming to terms with the fact that Taehyung seems to have completely forgotten about you. It hurts like a bitch, but it’s getting bearable. You’re not sure how it’s going to be between the two of you once he comes back from his summer spent chasing his internet girlfriend, leaving you in the dust. You’ll definitely feel awkward around him, at least for the first few weeks. You’ll have to have a talk with him, maybe ask for an apology. So many of the plans you made together are now definitely not happening.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“The other day you said that you always plan stuff factoring in Taehyung’s interest and choices, and that kind of bothered me.” Namjoon mumbles, looking suddenly very awake but also very shy.

“Aw, don’t be bothered. In a way it’s kind of my fault you know. I could easily just do my own things, but I choose to plan around him because I want to spend time with him…” You pause, wince. “It’s kind of sad now that I’m putting it this way.”

“I know that he considers you his best friend, though, and relationships, even platonic ones, go both ways.”

You smile into your cereal, pushing them around the milk.

“I appreciate you defending my honor, Namjoon.” You tease lightly, a warm feeling spreading through your chest.

“Actually I was wondering-,” He cuts himself off, scratching his head, before carrying on, “I was wondering, is there something you’ve always wanted to do? But you haven’t since it’s not something Taehyung would appreciate?”

The question takes you by surprise, and you wrack your brain, trying to think of something.

“Well, I’ve always wanted to do a road trip to the future birthplace of Captain Kirk in Iowa, but Taehyung’s not really into SciFi, so I never brought it up.”

Namjoon’s face is the one of someone who was not expecting this answer at all, and he stares at you for a long moment, something akin to wonder sparkling in his eyes.

“You like Star Trek.” He marvels, shaking his head like he can’t believe it. “How are you so perfect.”

You freeze, he freezes; everyone freezes.

“Wait, what did you just say?”

“Erhm, well, hum,-” He stammers incoherently, face growing red, before finally getting control of his tongue again. “I mean, your cinematic taste; they’re perfect. How is your cinematic taste so perfect? I just woke up, my brain is still half asleep.” He laughs, but it sounds forced, and you take pity over him.

“Sure.” You answer, dragging on the syllable. ”Anyway, that’s what I would do. I’ve always wanted to visit there, and I’ve always wanted to do a road trip, so, yeah.”

Namjoon looks grateful that you’re not insisting, taking a big swing from his glass of milk, and you’re scared that he’s going to choke and splurt milk all over the table and you for a second. Knowing his track record when nervous, it wouldn't surprise you, but he manages to keep it all in without incident.

It’s been a while since you’ve practiced your reanimation techniques and Heimlich maneuver, and you make a note to review some videos, just in case. You have a feeling that living with Namjoon is stressful

“The reason I’m asking is, well, I’ve got nothing planned this summer, and I would love to try new things. I know we’re basically strangers at this point, but, if you want we could, you know, do some stuff together. Like, I would love doing a road trip to Captain Kirk’s future Birthplace. Only if you want! I don’t want to impose myself either. If you want to save that for friends you know better, it’s perfectly fine. I’m just saying, like, I’m open to doing stuff with you. Like, I think we get along well and,- Now I’m just rambling.”

You giggle, finding this whole thing quite endearing. You’re tempted to torture him a little, but you decide to take pity on him; it’s morning after all.

“Namjoon.”

“Yes.”

“I would love to go on that road trip with you.” You state simply, and your words take a moment to register, but he gives you a beaming smile, the dimples making yet another noticed apparition. The joy is short-lived though, a frown making its way on his face.

“There’s just one thing; I don’t drive.”

You snort, extending your hand to tap lightly on his, comforting.

“It’s a good thing if you ask me.”

“...Do you?” He asks tentatively.

“Yeah baby,” You exclaim, pulling out your best southern accent. “I'm a licensed driver and everything. ‘Haven’t drove into a wall since 2016.”

“That's not as reassuring as you think it is.”

“Are you questioning my driving abilities?” You ask, leaning forward in a threatening manner.

“...No.” He gulps.

“Then let’s set a date!”

There’s a new air of excitement taking over the kitchen, the prospect of a road trip making you feel giddy like a child going to Disneyland.

“Wait, where would you get the car?”

“I can pull some strings.” You shrug with a taunting eyebrow raise, aiming for mysterious. There’s a certain someone who owes you one, and this is the perfect occasion for him to pay his due.

Before Namjoon can question you further, someone starts knocking on the door incessantly. You turn questioning eyes to Namjoon, who mirrors the look, and he stands up, hurrying to the door as the onslaught doesn't seem to be stopping.

There’s a flurry of movement as whoever is on the other side of the door jumps into Namjoon’s arms, sending him swaying back from the weight. There’s confusion and shock on Namjoon’s face, and you quickly understand why.

“Tae?!”

[theresthesnitch]

20 Questions: Writer's Edition

I waited far too long to do this because I was focusing on writing, but I'm so excited to dive in. Thanks for the tags, @jilyesplz, @oyprongs, @missgryffin, @mppmaraudergirl, and @cesays. It made me smile each tag I got, and I loved reading all of your responses!

Answers below the cut to avoid a LONG response.

How many works do you have on AO3?

28

What’s your total AO3 word count?

120,326

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Only HP.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. Three Strikes til you're out Jily, Rated: E

Lily Evans knows nothing about baseball. Or baseball players. She knows even less about James Potter. However, when some bad press risks James's endorsement deals, Lily finds herself thrown into a fake relationship with him. Can they convince the world they are together and save James from the tabloids? Can Lily keep her heart as she learns about James? Or will they both strike out?

2. Bathed in the Moonlight Wolfstar, Rated: E

In the light of the moon, they came together and became something new. (PWP)

3. Shirts v. Skins Jily, Rated M

A pick up quidditch match, a contest, and a very thirsty Lily Evans. (Shirtless JP May)

4. All the Little Pieces Hinny, Rated: Gen

This is an entry in @clarensjoy's Hinny Ficfest 2021. It's a series of vignettes over the course of Harry and Ginny's lives. Prompt 60: "I heard that." "You were supposed to."

Five is technically my bingo entries for the Harry and Ginuary Bingo, which is titled There was a contest called B-I-N-G-O, but that feels like cheating. So my 5th fic is:

5. Courage is a little like love Jily Rated: T

A fluffy Jily first kiss one-shot, with some bonus Remus/Lily friendship to go with it.

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Yes! Some times it takes me a few days to get back to them, but I love comments and seeing what people think. I also love talking about my writing!

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Ha! I had to think for a minute, but there's really no question. To Go On Without Him is a Lily Lives AU one-shot-that-could-get-more-chapters. It's the least happy ending fic I have.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Okay, I started responding that most everything I write has a happy ending, but then I looked through my fic list and, uh... that's not even almost true. I have way more angst than I realized. Three Strikes is my only multi-chap, but it will have a happy ending. As far as happy one-shots, I think I'd either go with Just a Little Kiss, which is a Jily first kiss/get together one-shot for @efkgirldetective's Summer of Jily prompt 5, or Let's have a baby, where James and Lily choose to have a baby.

Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

Okay, first, I think there's a difference between a crossover - i.e. Tony Stark falls in love with Dr. Who - and an adaption - where the characters from the fandom follow a plot like another story. I won't say never, but I can't see myself doing a crossover. An adaption, however...

No, you can't make me write the Cars AU via the Marauders. I won't. I definitely haven't started it.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

I haven't, thankfully! The fandom has been good to me so far.

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Yes. lol. I've written both M/M and F/M, but I wouldn't rule out others in the future. Depends on where the inspiration strikes.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, and as amazing as that would be, I can't imagine anyone wanting to.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope! I would consider it, but I'm worried I don't have the time to dedicate to it.

What’s your all time favorite ship?

Oh no. Don't make me pick.

It definitely changes periodically, depending on what I'm in the mood for. I started reading only Hinny, then moved on to Jily, then Wolfstar. I've been writing and reading a lot of Jily lately, but I've also been reading a lot of Wolfstar. So all of them, periodically.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Ugh, I refuse to doom any of them like this.

What are your writing strengths?

I think my best bits are the shocking one lines - whether dialogue or no. I love building up tension to that one line that just makes your jaw drop.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I struggle so much with the flowery descriptive language. I sometimes end up writing dialogue and going back later to add the little bits that make it feel real.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

As a reader, I love it, but only with convenient translations so that I don't get lost in the story. If I have to stop reading to translate and figure out what's going on, then it's a bit of a pain.

I know a tiny bit of French and a tiny bit of Spanish, and I've considered writing some lines in other languages, but it would definitely be a line or two and not a conversation. And honestly, it would probably be purely for the purpose of turning on the other person who can't translate it in the fic.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter, specifically Hinny.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Three Strikes, for sure. I never really thought I'd enjoy writing a multichapter because I was worried that the pressure of writing it and delivering the next chapter in a reasonable time frame would be too much. I actually have a few that are as written or more as Three Strikes was when I started posting, but I thought I wanted to finish it before posting. I thought that, given my time issues, having it completed or mostly completed would make it easier to finish.

But posting Three Strikes while I was still writing made the fic develop into something I never expected. There are things in there that would never have existed without input, and I love where it's ended up.

Tagging:

I'm skipping tags because I think just about everyone has done this already, but if you haven't, please do! And tag me! I want to know more about you.