#the issue i have with documenting the times when i actually play some dress up. i get super super self concious

[sar3nka]

I still think abt that one anon from... a few months ago I think. The one who said I should make an instagram to document the looks I do. And I said I'd do it at the end of the year. I don't feel like it tho considering ig is dying and turning into tt.

[shinoposting]

A comprehensive guide as to why Aburame Shino is peak Autistic Representation

Very long post under the cut!

( This is poorly organized and doesn't actually include everything, but you know :] )

It starts with the flashback to when Torune was taken and flashbacks to early academy days, during which Shino is about 7.

He showed no interest in playing with other children, or in making friends. He didn't see a point in talking to people who didn't want to discuss his special interest, which he dedicated all his free time to, and he didn't emote when Torune was taken away, even though it impacted him very deeply. Even as a small child he talked "like an adult", monotonous, strange phrasing, over-explaining, and too quietly. When he wasn't being ignored by his classmates, they were trying to use him.

Later on when you see him socialize more, in Pre-Teen and Teenage years, more things become apparent.

In general he seems semi-verbal, most of the time silent, and becomes agitated when forced to repeat himself. Konoha Hiden expands on this, saying that he wishes people just knew what he meant and felt without him having to talk, and that he is bonded to Akamaru because he feels that Akamaru is the only one who he can communicate with in that way. When he's upset he isolates and at one point is even seen hitting his head when he was trying to cool down and was interrupted by unwanted social interaction.

He doesn't understand why people need to see his face, and usually doesn't look in the direction of the person he is addressing. He also doesn't understand jokes, rarely laughs, and angrily dissects puns…but then later puns become his entire sense of humor. He's never dressed for the season, either. Aburames tend to be very covered up by default but besides his Part 1 outfit he is always in multiple layers regardless of the season. (Year round trench coats are a huge autistic stereotype.) He gets along better with people outside of his age group, respected by adults and looked up to by younger kids who think he is cool and knowledgeable. Konoha Hiden also states that during this period he was suffering with comorbid Anxiety and Depression.

There's a lot of black and white thinking on display, for example he is anti-alcohol-- obviously he would have been taught not to drink as an Aburame, but he also doesn't like when others drink. He sees it as universally bad. He's a stickler for the rules and often scolds his peers for not following rules and guidelines. He also seems like a bit of a prude even though it is suggested that he himself has a dirty mind (noticing girls' cup sizes and the implications of Road to Ninja treating his Personal Business as a personality trait) which is a funny hypocrisy I have noticed in a lot of autistic people. He holds a hell of a grudge and ruminates endlessly, which is documented at higher rates in autistic people due to rigid thinking.

He is trying to make friends like Torune wanted, and is now aware that not having friends is a bad thing. He starts feeling the pain of being ostracized not only in general but also by his friend group and isn't even sure if he has friends. He is 17 years old before he understands what allistics consider friend status.

We start to see some of his sensory issues pop up too. He is seen wearing sunglasses even at night and while sleeping. He hates any food that smells strongly and his favorites are pretty bland. He pulls a piece of meat out of his mouth, in public, uncharacteristically violating taboo. He was able to identify the number of people in a distant group only by sound at a time when this would have been above his skill level. (Which makes sense. Team 8 is thus Eyes, Ears, Nose. More on this later.) By Boruto, he has added ear protection and stronger eye protection that he wears when he is expecting to be near fluorescent lights or crowds. Suddenly his overall mood is greatly improved and he can smile openly.

He shows signs of hyperempathy in being overly distressed when losing insects, as he has many millions of them, and having an exaggerated physical response to anticipating Sakura and Naruto's despair.

He has chronic bitchy resting face and is extremely blunt to a a degree of being insulting, which makes people assume he is a mean person. He also comes across as pedantic to his peers, when from his perspective he's just didactic, and even though he over-explains everything his peers still have difficulty understanding what he's saying.

He will also randomly connect the topic of discussion to his special interest and begin infodumping about bugs, and isn't aware that people around him are not interested or worse, repulsed by his special interest until told, at which point he feels personally hurt. Generally his interests are very stereotypical of an autistic person: bugs, comics, ecology, strategy, etc.

He seems level-headed and robotically analytical until he reaches a certain threshold when he suddenly over-emotes in dramatic and awkward ways.

You might notice that when his hands aren't in his pockets, he doesn't seem to know what to do with them; they're always balled into fists, which smells of someone who was taught not to stim. Even so, when he gets really excited in Konoha Hiden and is being himself, he starts spinning around. His speech quirk preceding frequent over-explanations (Why? Because... / The reason is because...) is also considered a type of echolalia.

Mentioning Hiden, in the Blank Period we start to see changes associated with the autistic experience of starting to understand that you are awkward, not knowing how to fix it, and all the anxiety that comes with that. He is stuck riding the lag train and is fully ready to become a hermit in the woods.

He isn't understood in the way that he wants to be understood. He can't let himself get comfortable in other people's homes. He uses his trench coat as a barrier between himself and other people, treating it like a security blanket. He still doesn't understand how his choice of attire affects people's perception of him and becomes agitated when he's told it makes him look suspicious. He doesn't appear to be pursuing any intimate relationships, and displays a lack of boundaries when picking Choji up with his insects when he gets excited.

The lag train becomes even more apparent in Boruto. He hasn't found a partner, his friends are growing even further away from him, and possibly worst of all he's seen as more childish-- too grown-up as a kid, too immature as an adult.

He is masking extremely heavily for the sake of his career, mirroring Iruka, removing almost all of his personal identity from his appearance including the parts that made him feel safe-- everything has to be professional. This actually hurts his ability to work with kids because he already knew how to talk to them, but he is now trying to emulate the image of a teacher for the sake of professionalism.

In the classroom he struggles with things I have seen real-life autistic teachers talk about: He works well with the younger kids, they love him and his fun facts, but the older ones can tell that there is something different about him and they will ignore or outright bully him. It's very difficult to control them or hold their interest. (He later develops stomach problems due to stress from working with said older kids)

The big problem is that he is not good at masking. In traditional settings with very clearly defined roles and rules of how to act and what to say he gets by just fine, but in organic interactions it's nothing but spaghetti and this causes him severe stress. He is proud of himself for being able to speak to many people in a day now but at what cost? Pattern recognition and rigid thinking of course leads to rumination spirals, and under extreme pressure he starts reverting to childish things. He has only had Kura-maa a short time before he becomes attached and starts personifying it. This may seem childish, but autistic people are more likely to do this and will continue to do so later into life than their allistic peers. (See Object Personification in Autism: This paper will be very sad if you don’t read it)

He has become a real people-pleaser, allowing himself to be imposed upon constantly, and apologizes excessively even for situations that were not his fault, which are both behaviors many autistic people pick up. And, for all his masking, he can't hide that he is still terrible at understanding and constructing metaphors, ie "bad insects" and the yakisoba bun analogy.

He is trying his damnedest to adapt and accommodate himself in a rapidly changing world that wasn't very friendly to him to begin with. He was able to slide under the radar as respectable and somewhat normal when the world was as rigid as he is. Now every day he's facing new challenges that he isn't used to and he's acting a little fucked up and neurotic, overcompensating and making it worse.

So yeah, maybe he's not 'cool' by most standards. Not everyone gets a happy ending where they become the most ideal version of themselves. Not in real life, and not in animes that have hundreds of characters. What's important is that he is exactly on the trajectory set by previous installments to the series and very accurately and thoroughly depicting autistic struggles in every aspect of life. And that's pretty cool to me. :)

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #39] Rooms

warnings: fluffy and luverly!! let's go to pohang!! laser tag chapter :) start of the pre-wedding celebrations!

a/n: im scheduling as i watch bangbangcon but it've already made it through the red bullet and wings show so I am behind schedule! too distracted! tannie writer second, army first!!

wc: 9.5K

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

"What did you vote for?" Jeongguk asks, tucking into the piping-hot French toast from his favourite cafe downtown.

Sitting by the window, you're polar opposites. Dressed down, you've come to meet him following his meeting with the bank, and are incredibly grateful that you're in a public space. Never before have you seen him so formal - but you have seen the tie he's wearing before. The last time you'd laid eyes upon it, it had been fastened around your wrists. Every now and again, your words trail off, eyes focused on his chest - and every single time, Jeongguk smirks.

"Pohang," you say, digging your fork into the strawberries he set aside for you on his plate. As much as he likes them, he knows you like them more. "Beach over mountains any day."

Jeongguk nods, brows furrowed together as he swallows down his food. "Fuck me, that's good - and yeah, same. Will be nice to get out of the city, too. And hey -" he snaps his fingers beside his face. Twice. Gets your attention. "Eyes up here, Disco Ball."

Throwing him a small glare, you decide you're not to blame. "You shouldn't have worn that tie."

Exhaling a breathy laugh, Jeongguk just shakes his head. "You should learn to have some self-control."

With a roll of your eyes, you play off his teasing. "Please, self-control is basically my middle name."

"Disco Self-Control Ball?" He asks almost a little too sincerely. "Must be a ballache for signing legal documents."

"My parents wanted me to be unique," you playfully reply.

"You're certainly unusual," Jeongguk knocks his head to the side, then takes a sharp swig of his coffee as if it's hard liquor. There's a playful arrogance to the way in which he teases you, and you know that anything you say will be met with dumb banter when he's in moods like these. "Unique sounds far too nice."

"Pack it in, Jeon," you scold, but there's a smile on your lips, and glitter in your gloss. A certain happiness radiates from you that he hasn't had the luxury of indulging in recently. What with the scare of carrying a literal child pressing on you for a couple of weeks, and Jeongguk's stress about the bank meeting, there's not been much chance for respite. You've both been processing the events - and the bad decisions it took to reach such a calamity.

So despite the tease, you're both agreed: a breather is needed.

Things with Jeongguk are good. Great, in fact. You're both seemingly happy with the arrangement at hand, and yet there's a fear that things could get spoiled. That you'll take how good things are for granted. Will ruin it.

For lack of better phrasing, you were only ever supposed to be fuck buddies. Not parents. Not anything more than friends who fuck around a little bit in the hopes that their issues would resolve themselves.

"Hey," he defends, holding his hands up, the smile on his face as he chews on the last bit of French toast just as infuriatingly charming as it always is.

Your conversation is lost in the general chatter of the cafe, and anyone walking past would be forgiven for thinking that you're talking about the upcoming new moon, or astronomy, or some shit like that. The way Jeongguk looks like he's got an entire cosmos in his eyes, and the glitter that freckles your skin, makes you appear like you're in your very own world. Very own galaxy, perhaps.

"I mean it," you say sternly. "I'll think you're flirting with me if you keep being mean."

Jeongguk just shrugs. "Maybe I am flirting with you."

The way you gag and heave at such a response has the table next to you glancing over to check you aren't actually throwing up.

Jeongguk laughs. Reaches for your arms to steady you, then glances over to the people looking your way. "Don't worry about her. Just swallowed a fly."

You look at him with narrowed eyes, yet again, and Jeongguk begins to learn that this is synonymous with feigned disgust. Your narrowed eyes are never glaring. Always glowing.

Shaking off his touch, you ignore the way Jeongguk bites down on his bottom lip, and how his lip ring does the thing.

"I'll swallow you if you're not careful," you threaten - and regret it immediately when Jeongguk raises his eyebrows.

"Now that's not very friendly, is it, Byeol?"

"Oh, no like that," you laugh, because you don't want to keep pretending like you're entirely disgusted by him. If anything, now you're thinking about it, you'd quite like to swallow him. You blame the desire to do incredibly unfriendly things with your best friend on the tie he's wearing.

"Anyways," you dismiss. "Are we driving across to Pohang? Or getting the train?"

"I think you mean to say am I driving - and the answer is yes, I am," he assures you. "Is this a sneaky way of begging for a ride?"

"I thought you'd never ask - and hey, don't look at me like that. You normally like it when I ri-"

"Byeol!"

"What?!"

"Behave yourself."

With a coy smile, you mumble an apology.

Jeongguk just shakes his head. Mutters, 'unbelievable,' and takes a sip of his coffee. Hands in your lap, you lean over to reach your straw and take a sip of your iced americano, too. Look up at him. Earn yourself another warning.

"Stop it with the eyes."

Cheeks rounding, lips still around your straw curving into a tight-lipped smile, you close your eyes.

"Seriously, you gotta behave yourself if we're gonna survive this weekend," he tells you, knowing that there's absolutely no way he'll make it out a weekend of you flirting with him in the way that you are now alive. Might just die.

A group consensus had been taken for Yoongi and Seoyeon's respective celebrations of their singledoms - but neither of them really felt like saying 'goodbye' to it. Would much rather just say 'hello' to the lives they're building together. In all honesty, marriage will really change nothing between the pair of them.

It's for this reason that they've opted for a group celebration. Two options had been given in the group chat - renting out a pension-style house by the coast over in Pohang, or a spa stay at a mountain resort on the edge of the city - and the vote had been unanimous.

This weekend, you'll all head over to the coast. After the stress of the last few weeks, you genuinely can't wait - even if Hayun will be there.

"It's inevitable," you shrug when Jeongguk asks how you're feeling about it. In all honesty, you're surprised that he breached the conversation. Thought that she'd be ignored like a bright red elephant in the corner of the room. Instead, it seems like he's trying to assess the situation before it even happens - and you can't blame him. "She might not be my favourite person in the world, but this weekend isn't about me, is it?"

You've given it a lot of thought over the last few days. Too much thought, you think. Have considered half a dozen scenarios that could play out, and the bias of your brain always has them working out in your favour.

She wants to argue? You'll rise above it. She gives you a snide remark? You won't give her the dignity of a response. Jeongguk falls under her spell? Let him. It's not like he's yours, anyway. He can do as he pleases.

Yet when you look up at him, and see the look of contemplation on his handsome features, neat brows furrowed and a frown detailing his expression, you secretly hope that she isn't what pleases him anymore. You're unaware of the ins and outs of their conversation at The Ryu. All you know is that she always laughs a little too much at Jeongguk's jokes in the group chat, but that he ignores all of her replies.

"Well, no," he supposes, eventually.

"How are you feeling about it?" You decide to ask. Have spent far too long trying to read between the lines that Hayun has painted red. Would like a little clarity. Think that it's about time you stopped jumping to conclusions without a safety net in place. "Have you spoken lately?"

He shakes his head. Toys with the straw in his coffee glass, which is mostly ice by this point. The small frozen shards clatter against one another, but will soon be melted into oblivion. Forgotten all about. "No reason to."

He pretends to not notice the coy smile you're trying to hide, but it's contagious. He mirrors you. Does a terrible job at pretending like he isn't pleased by this admission.

There's an acute awareness between you both that this feels new. That the overwhelming burden of Jeongguk's confused feelings towards Hayun no longer weighs down on his shoulders in the same way that they used to.

"Think that Tae and Danbi are gonna try and get a ride with me too," he tells you.

"What about Jimin?"

"Oh, yeah," he nods. "Him too. That's like, a given, though. He's already shotgunned the front seat. Joon's gonna get the train,  I think. Said he and Hobes had spoken about catching the same one."

Nodding, you add, "Yeah, Hobes has already got his ticket sorted. He's always at that bloody tennis club with Joon these days. Think he might have a crush."

"Really?!" Jeongguk exclaims with such vigour the table beside you gawks over at you both again.

Laughing, you hush him. "Maybe. Never really seen them together, but he did ask me if I've ever noticed how good Joon's thighs are the other day."

"He has got really good thighs," Jeongguk laments with a little envy. Seems like as much as he works out, he can never reach the same levels of muscle ass on his own legs. "Understandable."

"Can't say I've ever noticed."

"You must be blind."

That, or just always too busy looking at Jeongguk's thighs instead.

Even though they're tucked neatly beneath the table, you still glance down at his lap, reminded of just how much you like his thighs - and how much he liked you on them in the janitor's closet at Taehyung's art show.

"Eyes. Up."

"Oh my god," you whine, cheeks flaming. "I wasn't looking at them like that ."

"Is it the suit?" He questions, genuine curiosity brimming on the very edges of his jovial teasing. It's been a while since he's seen you this unable to visibly control yourself. Too long, he thinks. Selfishly, he quite enjoys it when it's like this. Like you a little loopy for him. "Is that what's getting you all hot and bothered, huh?"

"I'm a perfectly normal temperature."

"You're sweating," he lies. "Burning up for me, baby."

"Is that a Jonas Brothers reference?" You question, equal parts bemused and frustrated with how much he likes to fuck around with you like this.

"I'm a man of culture, Byeol."

"You're a twat."

"Yeah, that too."

Rolling your eyes, you decide that you don't wanna let the conversation derail yet again. Take charge of the direction it goes in.

"So tell me more about your meeting. How'd that go? When will you hear about the loan?"

"Yeah, really well," he says and gets into the specifics. Tells you all about the loan process, how his business plan was barely even looked at despite all of his hard work, and how uncertain he still is.

"You'll be fine," you promise him. "One step closer to the big dream."

Nodding, he's apprehensive. Tries not to let it show. "One step closer."

Walking into your room, anyone would be forgiven for thinking you're packing for three months - not three nights.

"Why is this even up for debate?!" Jeongguk laughs, holding up the skimpiest bikini he thinks he's ever seen. "We're not going swimming in the sea. It'll be bloody freezing."

"Okay, firstly - you're not swimming in the sea. I'll do whatever I like, thank you very much. And secondly, haven't you looked at the listing?" You assert. "Seoyeon sent it over a few days ago."

Opening up his phone, Jeongguk scrolls through the group chat, which has received easily a hundred messages since then. He's awful at checking it. Always finds out the important details from you or Jimin, anyways.

Scrolling through the pictures, it's the first time Jeongguk is properly looking at it. Had agreed to whatever the happy couple had suggested, and just wired the money through for his share of the weekend rent - after all, it's their celebration, not his. Will happily do whatever they want, and plans on spending the weekend in a permanent state of ' yes '.

A large white pension house, it overlooks the coast and has a pathway that directly leads down to a small cove. With two extra buildings, there are enough rooms to comfortably sleep you all, even if some will be sharing. 

It has everything you could need for a weekend away with friends - an outside deck with a large barbecue, a ping pong table you know full well be used for beer pong, sofas that look like they can easily fit a football team on them and a hot tub in the corner of that outside deck. You dread to think of what men like Jimin would get up to in it, but thankfully there's no one here this weekend he can put his moves on.

Looking at the bikini still in his grasp, he comes to realise why it was in your pile of potentials - and stupidly, all he can think of is the fact he absolutely does not want to give any of his friends reasons to stare. Knows they inevitably will. Knows that if the pair of you were established as more than what you are, he'd revel in it. Would be so incredibly proud.

And yet he doesn't want any of the single boys thinking about you in the same way that he does. Doesn't want them to have any reason to put moves on you.

Still, you're your own person, and he knows better than to ever try and tell you what you should or shouldn't wear - so he just tosses it into the small suitcase you're packing.

Is a little bit mopey and pathetic as he says, "The boys will be drooling."

Raising your brow, you question, "Is that an issue?"

"No issue," he lies, then flops onto his back, head landing on a pile of your pillows. He smirks. "We both know I'm the only one you'll be drooling over, so it's fine. Let them look."

"God, your ego will be the death of you."

He doesn't reply. Knows you'll be the death of him, instead, and kind of loves this reality.

The rest of the evening trawls on, and your suitcase is packed and unpacked - according to Jeongguk - a 'gazillion' times. Eventually, fed up with your own indecision, you'd said, "I can't be arsed. Pack for me."

And so he had. In lightning speed, Jeongguk had enough clothes gathered for the weekend and your toiletries all zipped up into a small bag. In true Virgo fashion, he'd folded them all needed and organised your suitcase like a display unit at an upscale department store.

When you reach over to question one of his shirt choices, he taps your hand away. "Nope. You're done. You can't spend another fourteen years packing."

"I could give it a good try."

"Byeol," he whines. "You won't get a better configuration than this. Don't try it."

He also doesn't want you to take out a few of the things he's snuck in there, either. Your bikini is in plain sight, so you know that he has at least packed that.

"Fine," you sigh, flipping the lid of the suitcase over to zip it up. He really has done a stellar job, and you know you shouldn't, but you actually find his efficiency kinda hot, in a strange sort of way. Just shows his competency. Makes you think he'd be useful to keep around. Good with a drill. Good with a screw - but you knew that already. "You all packed?"

He raises a brow as he reclines into a more comfortable position on your bed. "Is that even a real question?"

Those narrow eyes of yours come back, and Jeongguk watches as you scan your bed for something to throw at him. His eyes reach your My Melody plushie a fraction of a section before yours do - and so he lunges for it, narrowly beating you.

The speed at which you both reach for it causes you to stumble a little onto your bed. Jeongguk holds the My Melody above his head as he sits up straight against the headrest, and on his face is the cheesiest grin you've ever seen. It's so bright that you almost miss the way his lip ring is doing that godforsaken thing once more.

He challenges you in the way he raises his brows, as if to say, "Come and get it."

And who are you to refuse a challenge?

It's clockwork the way in which you two tussle around. It's gentle and childish. You're giggly, and so is he. He could pin you down easily; restrain you in a way he's done before.

And yet he doesn't.

He lets you win, because letting you win also means having you on his lap - and he's sorely missed that. Missed you. Missed the feeling that comes with pretending like you're more than what you are.

A win for you is a win for him.

With My Melody in your hands, Jeongguk's hands come to find their place on your waist.

"Got it," you say quietly, and Jeongguk just hums. Nods. Pulls you further up his lap.

Leaning your forehead down to rest upon his, it's easy to forget the boundaries you've set in place. Hard to remember how to be responsible.

Nudging his nose up against yours, Jeongguk can't help but let himself slip back into old habits. Bad habits. Ones he should have kicked ages ago.

And yet he lets his lips ghost yours. Aligns his between yours. Tightens his grip on your hips and gently rocks you. Whispers a hushed moan. Takes a second to pause. Think about what he's doing. Assess whether or not it's a recipe for disaster.

Resting his forehead against yours, he shakes his head. Goes to speak - and then, against his better judgement, presses a chaste kiss to your lips. It's teeny tiny. Delicate. Too little and yet too much all in the same fleeting touch; like a shooting star not shining for long enough to make a wish upon.

"C'mon," he whispers against your lips. "We can't be doing this. Not now."

"I'm not doing anything," you whisper right back, as if your hips aren't languidly grinding against him. " You're the one with a boner."

"And you're the encouraging it," he says, as if he wasn't the one to get you positioned over his cock. "We've been doing so well. Let's not fuck it up."

Part of you wants to fuck it up, though.

"Say the word," you tell him, knowing that you need him to be the strong one.

"B," he says a little breathlessly, swallowing down the syllable.

"Say the word."

Jeongguk shakes his head. Sounds guilty as he admits, "I don't want to."

God , he just makes it so hard to resist.

"We've got an early start tomorrow," you contemplate out loud. "Maybe you should get going."

"Maybe I should," he agrees - but then hurriedly changes his mind. "Fuck it. No. I don't wanna go."

"No?" You ask with a soft smile on your lips. It's taking everything in him not to kiss you right now. Ha to physically hold himself a little further back.

"No," he husks. Is all raspy and needy, obsessed with how it feels to have you in a position like this. He'd wait a lifetime, he thinks - but is also impatient. Wants you now. "I wanna stay. Wanna make you cum."

Ooft . It's bold statements like those - the crude , the vulgar , the indecent - that always drive you a little wild. Jeongguk will touch you so tenderly, as if he's scared of leaving a single mark on your skin, and yet whispers words that will forever warp your sense of desire.

"That's not very friendly," you say, stroking your hands through his hair, still fascinated by the new length.

"Yeah, it is. It's like, so kind," he assures you. " So friendly."

With a bemused smile, you remind him of his desire to leave. "Were you not just saying you had to go?"

Closing his eyes, Jeongguk lets his head tip back, his pretty neck exposed, Adam's apple just begging for a little kiss. You refuse.

"You're right," he groans. "Fuck. Yeah. Sorry. Shit. Get off me, you temptress."

Laughing at his ridiculous wording, you do as you're told. It's tender, the way Jeongguk lets you go, but keeps hands loosely on your body until you're out of reach.

"Do us both a favour," Jeongguk says nonchalantly, reaching over your bedside table for the trinket box that houses things a 'friend' really shouldn't know about. He opens it up, and you watch on in suspended disbelief - which only tenfolds when he pulls out your fucking vibrator, and then chucks it at you. "Take this with you."

Barely managing to catch it, you stammer out a collection of high-pitched noises that mean nothing and everything all at once.

"Okay, one," you hiss, eyes wide, shock evident. "You don't just go into a girl's private things like that-"

"I've been in your private thing loads."

"Jeongguk, that is not what I mean. I said things, not thing ."

"Yeah? I've seen 'em all. Been in a couple. Plural. Things."

"Gguk," you laugh now - and then remember you're holding a fucking rabbit . The black silicone is a demure upgrade from your last one, but how demure can a dick-shaped vibrator with a pair of bunny ears be? Tossing it down on your bed, it lands with a thud - and that's how Jeongguk knows it must be fucking powerful. "I'm not taking a vibrator on a trip with all of our friends."

"Do I need to remind you that you were gonna walk around in front of our friends with my cum in yo-"

"Stop!" You cringe. Whine as you throw your head back. "God, we're disgusting ."

"Yeah," he admits. Smirks. "Was kinda hot, though."

Shameless , you think - then wonder if he's always been like this; if Hayun got this side of him.

Thing is, when Jeongguk had been sleeping with Hayun, he'd been trying so hard to be perfect . The perfect gent, the perfect concept of a boy she could grow to love. For a while, it had seemed to work. So intent on being pristine, he kept their sex life equally as perfect. Would never be vulgar without purpose.

He steps into a realm that goes beyond his past experiences with you. His confidence fools you into a false understanding of his experience, but he'd got every reason to be confident with you. The sex only seems to get better and better. The riskier he gets, the bigger the reward. It's a recipe for disaster. A bad decision waiting to happen.

This is probably why cooling things off is a good decision. He was one step away from exhibitionism. Is taking things too far.

Fails to realise that maybe he wants to be caught. Wants people to know you fuck, because it's the only way he can mark his territory. Primal instincts. The same type that gets him spitting on your cunt, lips wrapping around your nipples, cock fucking into you at any given opportunity. He desperately wants to belong to you.

It's not a case of him being possessive, no. It's a case of him wanting to be possessed by you.

But these are dangerous things to think about when he's supposed to be cooling things off.

So instead, he simply says, "Take it with you. Please ."

"Why?" you question, because you're never gonna easily agree with him.

"'Cause I need you to not try it on with me," Jeongguk almost pleads. "Need you to be satisfied."

Funny how he thinks a dildo is capable of that. The only reason you upgraded was because the last one didn't cut it anymore. This one... yeah, this one is better, but it still isn't good enough.

But you're a dickhead in the best of times, and Jeongguk is never gonna get a serious answer from you.

"I'll just go to Jimin's room."

Jeongguk doesn't even crack a smile.

"No, you won't."

"Done it before-"

"You're not doing it again."

"Why not?" you pout, reaching back down for the vibrator. The way you hold it isn't necessarily obscene, but it is suggestive - and it makes Jeongguk's semi so painfully hard. One of his hands comes to his lap, as if to hide it, but it's no use. You can read his body like a book. Know exactly which chapter you're on. "I could just go to his room instead of yours when I'm horny?"

"What's the use? You'll leave just as horny as you went in."

"That's so mean."

He smirks. "Okay, but is it a lie?"

You don't dignify him with a response, instead opting to shoo him out of your apartment, with the promise of him getting to yours bright and early the next morning. Taehyung will be staying at your place with Danbi, to make it easier for Jeongguk, and all things considered, it's a well-set plan. No issues.

Or at least no issues until he arrives to find out that if he considers you not a light packer, then Danbi must be a heavyweight packer.

"We're going for three nights!" Jeongguk says in disbelief, when he's greeted with a full-size suitcase and a carry-on - not to mention the two tote bags over her shoulders.

"Okay?" Danbi says with the straightest face known to man. Part of you thinks she's just testing him, but the rest of you has known her for far too long. She really is a terrible packer. "And?"

Taehyung just has a leather duffel bag over his shoulder and an apologetic 'I tried telling her' look on his face.

Jeongguk stands still for a moment. Stares. Looks as if he's about to protest until, eventually, he just relents. "Fine - but I'm gonna have to reconfigure things."

You have to bite your tongue. Stop it from declaring how sexy it is when he talks efficiently. Oh, who are you?! One pregnancy scare and you're thinking about him in DILF capacities - but then he's rearranging the luggage, and the muscles in his arms flexing beneath his skin like fucking art, and - Oh, God. Pull yourself together!

The weekend will be a certified disaster if you don't get a grip on your brain and realign it. Jeongguk is your best friend. An idiot. A sexy idiot, granted, but still an idiot. You just wish he was wearing a jacket or something.

So busy looking at his arms, unable to form any words or offer any help, you're transfixed as you hear your name.

"Byeol?"

"Hmm?" You snap your focus up to his face, and are thankful you're not fucking drooling.

Too concerned with the luggage debacle, Jeongguk doesn't really notice the way you've been ogling.

"Will you be alright with bags by your feet?"

"Yeah," you nod. Your parents had always popped bags by your feet when you were younger, as you often travelled with your dog, giving him all the boot space. Squeezing yourself in is second nature. "No bother."

"Alright," he nods appreciatively, then taps on the passenger door. Jimin's napping, and Jeongguk had chosen not to wake him, knowing the car will likely be full of chatter when the three of you join the ride.

Waking with a startle, Jimin's clutching his heart when he gets out of the car. "Thought I was dying."

"You might be soon," Jeongguk grimaces, which earns an immediate wail from Jimin.

"No!" He asserts, knowing what is about to be asked of him. "Gguk, you promised ."

"I know, but I didn't expect there to be so much luggage!"

Jimin scowls in the direction of you three, who admittedly are standing there looking like guilty schoolchildren - even if it is just Danbi who has caused the conundrum.

"It's not a long drive," Jeongguk tries to reason with him. "And I'll pay for your snacks when we stop at a service station. Please, just sit in the back."

After a little more huffing and puffing, Jimin reluctantly agrees - but as an act of silent protest towards Danbi and Taehyung, he decides that he's having the middle seat. If he has to third-wheel, he's doing it on his own terms.

Eventually, you're crammed into the passenger seat with yours and Jeongguk's luggage, and a crate of beers on your lap.

"You good?" Jeongguk asks quietly as he starts the car up.

"All good," you nod as Jeongguk passes the cable for the aux over to you.

"Hold on, DB," Jimin says. "Made a playlist. I'll send you the link."

He really does take his shotgun duties seriously, and so you feel bad for getting his spot.

In all honesty, Jeongguk would have preferred you in the back. Would have liked glancing in his rearview mirror to see your disco balls eyes from time to time. Still, there's a comfort that comes with having you so close. Fears your glitter catching in the early morning light could be a distraction. Decides it's a fear he doesn't mind facing.

The drive is as smooth as you'd expect; mindless chatter, stupid games, and a soundtrack worthy of a montage in a cliche chick-flick. Jimin really did do a great job with the playlist, and, at times, Jeongguk's car becomes its very own noraebang.

You're nearly three-quarters of the way there when Jeongguk eventually turns off and heads into a service station. Doesn't need fuel for his car, but he can definitely do with fuel for his tummy.

Placing his hand on your back, Jeongguk gets your attention while you head towards the food court.

"Just gotta take this," he says, holding up his phone to show you an incoming call.

Nodding, you ask, "Want me to get you anything?"

"Surprise me."

"Will do."

Catching up with your friends, you're pleased to see the service station is just as you'd been expecting - a few stalls of snack foods, a couple of shops filled with tat for last-minute gifts and a little CU. The smell of hot oil and gasoline wafts around the place, wrapping you up in a certain nostalgia.

"Watcha getting?" Danbi asks.

"Not sure," you muse, looking at the menu above the canteen-style dining area. It's small, only about thirty or so seats, but it's quickly filling up as people seek refuge from the fine droplets of rain that have begun to pitter-patter down.

"Where's Gguk?" Jimin asks no one in particular.

Glancing over your shoulder to the entrance, you spot Jeongguk still on his call, pacing slightly. He's not seeking cover from the rain, eyes hard as he listens to whoever is on the other end of the line. Chewing down on his bottom lip, there's an uncertainty to his typically confident posture.

"On a call," you simply say, still observing him. Tension builds between his brows as he says something you can't decipher, before he turns away from your direction and continues pacing in laps with little regard for the weather. "Not sure who with."

It's another five minutes before he rejoins you, and when you ask him who was on the phone, he asks you what you've ordered, instead.

"Chicken," you tell him, eyes a little sleepy from the early start, not pushing on the ignored question. "Didn't really fancy anything else."

"You get me chicken, too?" He asks softly, rubbing your back as he stands a little closer beside you. Arm looping around his waist, you use his chest as a makeshift pillow for a moment or so.

"Mhmm. Figured we'd share."

"Sounds good to me," he says.

Eyes closed, you're unaware his sweet voice is paired with an incredibly rude middle finger, which is currently being held up towards Jimin and his shit-eating grin.

Cheeks chubby with the hotdog he's chowing down on, Jimin will always be the biggest supporter of Jeongguk being interested in, well, anyone other than Hayun.

The fact that it seems to be you?

Just makes it even better for him. Mainly because there's an endless supply of jokes he can make about him having you first, but also because he knows how deeply you care for Jeongguk. Thinks that his best friend deserves someone who gives a shit. Hopes that whatever the fuck is going on between you will sort itself out, sooner rather than later.

It's for this reason Jimin is so pleased that Hayun will only be on the trip for the final night.

She's currently back in Seoul for a job interview. Seoyeon had been a little disappointed when the schedules had clashed, but knew that it was important for her friend. She'd been desperately trying to find a job back in the capital city, and this was the first tangible shot in months.

Yoongi, on the other hand, had been quietly thrilled. Has no time for Hayun and her bullshit. Is just glad that other people seem to be wising up to the fact she is the way that she is. Has never really been a fan of her, and hopes that with time, Seoyeon will also distance herself. He'll never dictate her choices, though. It's something she'll have to learn to realise herself.

Food consumed, an appropriate amount of money wasted on the coin-operated gachapon machines, and a photo booth picture of the five of you crammed into a tiny passport-style booth taken, you head on your way again.

The drive takes far less time than you expect, and before you know it, you're all claiming to have been the first to see the sea. In all reality, it was Jeongguk who saw it first, but he lets you have your fun.

Dressed in white as she comes to greet you, Seoyeon is every bit the fairy princess bride-to-be. Her hair is delicately waved with teeny tiny plaits running through it. She too sports a little glitter on her eyes, but not half as much as you and it makes you consider altering your routine - but you know you never will.

"Gguk," Yoongi calls for Jeongguk's attention just as you finish unloading the car. "Sorry, I know you've been driving for a while but Joon and Hobi are at the station and the crappy weather is making it hard to get a taxi. Could you-"

"Yeah, yeah. Sure." Jeongguk nods, the start of his 'yes' weekend beginning. There's not a single thing that will be asked of him that he'll deny. Will do all he can to make things easier for other people, even if it does inconvenience him a little bit.

Car keys still in his hand, he holds them up and looks across to you. "Coming with?"

Shaking your head with a warm smile, you're appreciative of the invite, but you don't want to dip as soon as you arrive. The station is no more than a fifteen-minute drive, twenty tops, and given his face of thunder earlier, you think perhaps it'll be good for him to have some time to breathe.

"I'll make sure you get a good room," you promise instead, and he seems to appreciate this.

Waving a goodbye to everyone, Jeongguk heads off alone, while you take his and your bags in.

"You not going with him?" Seoyeon chirps as you take back one of the suitcases she's just claimed.

"Stop with the helping," you laugh. "It's your weekend. Should be relaxing. And nah, he can survive without me for a little bit."

"I hate feeling useless," she insists, and hoists Jeongguk's bag over her shoulder. Wobbles slightly, due to it being deceptively heavy, but she also seemingly has the core strength of a Goddess with how easily she balances herself. "Where are we taking these? Where are you guys staying?"

"Oh, we're not sharing," you say rather quickly. "Unless we need to, for space?"

Shaking her head, Seoyeon explains, "Oh, no. I just assumed you were. Danbi and Tae are sharing, Hayun will stay with Nabi when she gets here, so there's enough room for you and Jeongguk to have your own rooms. I mean, if that's what you want."

There's a subtle suggestion in her tone; permission, almost. You can stay with Jeongguk.

But instead, you double down.

"No, it's fine. Would probably be a bit weird, wouldn't it?"

Seoyeon smiles but keeps quiet as you head towards the second house, which is just off from the main building. Two rooms downstairs, and two rooms upstairs, it's the one you like the most when you saw the listing. Jimin's already nabbed one of the upstairs rooms, and you want the other one.

"Drop Jeongguk's bag here," you tell Seoyeon as you enter the house. "He'll be downstairs, and I'll be up."

"Sure thing," she smiles and she does as she's told, while also wondering if you'll be the one sneaking downstairs, or if he'll be the one sneaking upstairs.

Seoyeon leaves you to get yourself adjusted, and you're thankful for it. You know the weekend is gonna be full on when it comes to socialising, as much as you adore everyone coming (well, almost everyone), you know you'll be exhausted by the end of it.

It's partially why you insisted that Jeongguk retrieve the boys alone. He needs his space just as much as you do, and will probably need a final few moments of peace and quiet before the chaos that will surely unfold when everyone is reunited.

The room you're in is well-sized. Not huge, not by any stretch of the imagination, but it needn't be. What matters is the view - and it's the exact same reason Jimin chose the room across the hallway. A wide window takes up most of the wall that faces the coast, and in it pours the most gorgeous view you think you've ever seen.

An endless cerulean sea stretches in front of you. On the southeast coast of the country, you know that Dokdo lies not too far on the horizon. Ulleungdo, too. Both are obscure to you right now, the mist of a rainy haze rending everything beyond a mile or so into nothingness.

As you stare out of the window in a state of awe, you hear the soft vibration of your phone, and drag your eyes away. All pale wood and white fabrics, the furniture and bedding are pristine. A far cry from the clutter and mayhem of your and Danbi's apartment. Reminds you of Jimin and his minimalist tendencies. Must be living the dream over in his room.

Picking up your phone, you're surprised to see a notification for a voice note from Jeongguk. Flopping down onto the bed, you hesitate a little before pressing play.

"Hey, B," Jeongguk's voice echoes around you. Comforting, like the warmth of a blanket or the scent of freshly baked cookies, it's nice to hear his voice even if you only saw him about ten minutes ago. Laying your phone on your chest, it's as if he never left. 

"I know you're gonna ask about the call, but I don't wanna talk about it this weekend. There's just a hold-up with some of the bank stuff." You frown upon hearing this. Wonder what on Earth could possibly be wrong, knowing how hard Jeongguk had worked for it all. "That's all. No biggie. Was just thinking about it, so yeah. Thought I'd just let you know. Nearly at the station, so will be home soon. That's all. Okay. Bye-bye."

The cuteness of his sign-off fails to negate the heaviness of the rest of the message. It had obviously been dwelling on his mind, but also proves that letting him drive alone to process his thoughts was the right call. His choice to send a voice note was deliberate. He didn't want to engage in conversation, but he did want you to know - and you appreciate that more than you think you'll ever be able to convey.

Being invited into Jeongguk's mind, free of charge, with no expectation to invite him into yours is an honour. Proof of how he values you. An action that speaks louder than words.

You send him a quick text - "thanks for letting me know. got u a dreamy room, ur welcome x" - and then head back over to the main house. Rain drizzles down on you, but you don't mind. The rains are welcome after such a dry winter. Like the cutting of Jeongguk's hair, and the purchase of a brand new liquid glitter, they feel like the start of something new.

"I hear we're roomies," Jimin beams as you walk into the large, open-plan kitchen. There's a table big enough for a small country just in front of the kitchen area. To the right, through a large open arch is the sitting room. Designed for socialising, Seoyeon and Yoongi really did pick the best place.

"Housemates," you correct. "Jeongguk's in there too - who's got the fourth room?"

Sitting at the table, dressed casually but looking ever so beautiful, Nabi raises her hand. "You're stuck with me, I'm afraid."

"PARTY HOUUUSE," Jimin cheers, raising the beer he's already nursing, which makes you roll your eyes - but you can't help but laugh. He's ridiculous, yes, but he is fun - and he's also probably right. You first bonded with him over drinks, met Jeongguk at the bar of Dionysus and didn't warm up to Nabi until a very spirited game of beer pong. You likely will be the ones drinking all night and waking a little worse for wear the next morning.

Yoongi smirks like the cat who got the cream. "I love it when a plan comes together."

"Hmm?" you chirp, but Jimin is far more direct.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Seoyeon stands beside Yoongi and rubs his back tenderly with a smile on her pretty lips. The peach blush on her cheeks is so delicate and befitting of who she is, that when her eyes shine with a glint of mischief you can't help but understand exactly why Yoongi is so smitten.

"We might have lured all the party people to the same house," she admits - but she's quick to defend herself when she notices the feigned offence on all of your faces. "But hey, it's perfect! We can go to bed whenever we need to, and you guys can keep the party going!"

"We're too old for your shenanigans," Yoongi assures you. "About to be a married couple-"

"Gross," Jimin adds.

"So we're not as young and reckless as you young'uns."

"Yoongi, you guys are literally only a couple of years older," you laugh.

"You're a pair of sneaky bastards," Nabi tells them with a smile. "You're lucky I love you both."

In all reality, there's no offence to be taken. It really is the perfect scenario. You're not surprised that it's something they thought of ahead of time.

Everything for this weekend has, to a certain extent, been well prepared - though not by the happy couple. Assigned partners, you've all been tasked with planning an activity for the weekend.

Seoyeon and Yoongi had assigned themself the 'greeting party', of which this is, and is also why Yoongi is cosplaying Jeongguk as he serves mimosas to everyone who walks through the door. He's not a bad bartender - but he'll never be your favourite.

Taehyung and Danbi have been paired together, and will be guiding you to a certain death this afternoon.

Your activity partner is Namjoon, and you half suspect it was another deliberate ploy from Yoongi and Seoyeon to get you more acquainted with him.

Out of all of the boys, he's the one you know the least well, so it's been fun trying to plan an activity with him. Has been nice getting to know him in a way that doesn't feel forced - even though you know it entirely is.

Tonight, you'll become hosts of the most extravagant tipsy bingo ever known to man.

Both creative in your own ways, Namjoon is probably the best partner you could have had for your big vision. He's good with words, while you're good with making things look... well, ridiculous. There's a box by the front door addressed to Namjoon that he had had the genius idea of sending up beforehand. It's filled to the brim with props and decor and honestly, you can't wait.

Tomorrow morning, you'll no doubt be nursing murderous hangovers, which is where Jimin and Nabi step in. You don't know much about their plans, but you have heard the words 'Olympic' 'limbo' and 'sick bucket' mumbled between them during failed attempts at secrecy. You dread to imagine what they have in store for you.

Jeongguk has been paired with Hoseok, but they utterly refuse to share their plans with you in a capacity. It's been driving you insane - and they've both been revelling in it. Their activity is planned for the penultimate day.

As Hayun is arriving late, she's got the responsibility of the final morning, and has told everyone in the group to pack a pair of sensible shoes. You almost didn't bring any just to be a little bitch - but this weekend isn't about you. You're playing nicely, whether you like it or not.

The arrival of Jeongguk with Hoseok and Namjoon in tow is met with an overwhelmingly fond cheer. They all look slightly embarrassed by the display, but they are also the only ones without alcohol in their system.

Mimosa in hand, Jeongguk comes to greet you personally after the general hellos.

"I swear to God, if you've put me in a basement room-"

"Shut up," you laugh, tapping his arm fondly. Standing a small distance away from the group, it may as well be just the two of you in the room. Everyone else just fades into the abyss. Hardly a surprise, when he's got eyes like black holes that are intent on swallowing up every single one of your stars. "We're in the second house. Nabi and Jimin are with us."

"Hmm?" He chirps, not aware of the layout. "We're all in the same room?"

"No! No, different rooms. There are four rooms. Think Hayun will be joining Nabi on the last night."

Nodding, Jeongguk takes a hefty swig of his mimosa. Needs it to swallow down that information. "And you decided that's where we should sleep?"

Smiling as if she's never phased you, all you do is shrug. "Mhhm. Problem?"

He sticks his bottom lip and shakes his head. Reaches over to mess with the long bangs that frame your face, ruffling them out of position. "Fine with me if it's fine with you."

"Well, yanno," you begin to tease as you knock your fringe back into place. "I'm just across the hallway from Jimin. Easy access."

All very suddenly, Jeongguk's eyes get a little darker. His laugh, a little more sinful. He reaches over again, just to mess your hair up. Almost fucking growls as he says, "Don't you even fuckin' think about it."

His stare lingers for a second longer than it really should, but he's surprised to see you just smirking in response to his command.

"What if I already am thinking about it?" you tease quietly.

Jeongguk looks like he's ready to drag you into the second house and fucking nail you against the front door. Looks just as hungry as he normally does when you're naked. Breathes out a stunted laugh. Shakes his head. Is about to speak, when Yoongi called his name.

"Gguk, can you do the gim-mari? My hands are full."

Closing his eyes, Jeongguk takes a deep breath. "Behave yourself this weekend."

You watch as he walks away to help fry up the seaweed rolls, satisfied with yourself for getting under his skin so spectacularly.

He's dressed down - dark sweats, big white shirt with a silky black baseball jersey layered over the top of it. Lotte Giants, of course. Reminds you of how easy it was to get him keen on the weekend in Busan. You really shouldn't thrive on riling him up so much - but it's just so much fun . Hard not to do.

There's not much time to dwindle on silly little thoughts like these, because as soon as you've finished eating, Taehyung and Danbi are shooing everyone of the main house and down towards the front gate.

Their activity, you discover as you all get out of the taxis they had ordered for you, is laser tag at a local party place, of which you're certain almost exclusively caters towards children.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," Jimin moans as the assigned teams are getting into formation on opposite sides of the room. He lifts an accusing finger, and turns to the couple who has organised the whole event. "Who did this? Danbi? It was you, wasn't it?"

Her eyes are wide, and her lips are just as pouty as the accusation is correct.

Shrugging, a smirk breaches her sincere expression. "What's wrong? Scared you'll lose?"

"Scared?!" Jimin shrieks. "Danbi, this is a suicide mission."

It's not.

It's laser tag.

But Jimin is right in thinking that he'll lose, given the frankly dire state of his team.

He's on Team Purple, captained by Taehyung, who is currently sitting and smiling adoringly at the rival captain. Jimin's new arch nemesis. Or just simply, Danbi.

The rest of the team is made up of yourself, Hoseok and Seoyeon.

Standing at the helm of Team Green is Danbi. Behind her is Jeongguk, caught up in conversation with Nabi and Namjoon, while Yoongi adjusts the strap of his laser gun.

It's not a fair fight. You know this. Doesn't mean you're not gonna act offended.

"What's that supposed to mean?!" You tut, voice an octave higher than usual. "We've just as much chance of win-"

"They have Jeongguk," Jimin deadpans.

Even you can't argue against that.

"So? We've got youth, good looks, and luck on our side," you tell Jimin. "If you don't believe in yourself, then how do you expect to even stand a chance? Pull yourself together, man!"

From across the room, Jeongguk appears to be engaged in conversation, but the way he accidentally slips a laugh out at the end of your sentence gives him away. You glance in his direction, but find him looking away, hand scratching at the back of his head. He's not slick in the slightest, but he is cute. You'll give him that much.

Teams assigned, safety briefing done - with Jimin mumbling about the way he'll break each and every protocol to win - all that's left is to battle it out to the death.

Or until one of the teams loses. Same difference.

The shrouded darkness of the tag course isn't too dissimilar from Dionysus, and has a familiar intrusive scent of artificial smoke. It obscures the lights, but is quickly wafting away through the vent so as to not interrupt gameplay. Huddled around your home base, Team Purple needs all the morale it can get.

"Gguk's gonna be on the attack," Taehyung theorises. "Danbi will be floating midway - she won't want to attack but she also doesn't wanna be a lemon guarding their base. I think Joon will be their guard."

Seoyeon hums in agreement, stripes of neon face paint on her cheeks as if she's really going into combat. "What Yoongi lacks in height he makes up for in speed. He'll be attack too."

"And Nabi?" You ask. She seems to be the only unpredictable force for the Greens.

"Honestly not a-"

Taehyung's pondering is interrupted by a booming voice through the loudspeaker. "THREE."

"Fuck!"

Stupidly spending too much time contemplating Team Green's tactics has prevented Team Purple from planning anything.

"Shit," Jimin hisses.

"Seoyeon, guard - if Yoongi gets here-"

"TWO."

"- you distract him. I'll find Danbi. Hobes, DB... Just like, try not to die."

"ONE."

"Jimin, you're on attack."

" Fuck !"

You should really anticipate the way Hoseok starts flailing, and yet it still takes you by surprise just quite how loudly he screams. He has no rhyme, no reason as he runs into the maze of hidden spaces.

Taehyung curses. Looks over to you. "Whatever you do, just don't do that ."

"Roger that," you nod, retreating to a doorway that leads to the ramp up to the second story. Figuring vantage is needed, you head up there without much care. Team Green will still be over in their camp. You've enough time to take things at a leisurely pace; to figure out the blueprints. 

The layout is obscured by dozens of false walls and misleading hiding spots. There's a clear direct path into Green territory, and you spot Jimin scoping it out from another vantage spot below. Even despite the atmospheric music playing through the overhead speakers, nerves are so high it feels like a pin could drop.

Until, all rather suddenly, a gun is pressed to your back.

"Hey, B."

"Oh you motherfu-"

Before you can even finish, your vest is vibrating, the sound of a galactic gunshot echoing in the small space you're hidden in. The levels on your gun flash and dip for the first time. Across the main pathway, Hoseok is still screaming. There's no way you're winning this thing.

Twisting to face Jeongguk, you're met with his infuriatingly charming smile as his lip ring glistens in the selective lighting.

"How are you so quiet?!"

"You've been to my parent's house," he smirks, glancing down to check your levels are still flashing on your gun. Shrugging, he's quite clearly smug with his hit. "You know how thin the walls are. Learned to be light on my feet."

Unable to shoot back while you're still in 'recovery' mode, Jeongguk knows he has a little time to indulge in you. Makes the most of it.

"You know, you actually look really hot like this," he tells you, nodding at the combat gear. Gets a little closer. Clearly is still a little riled up from the way you'd teased him that morning. Taking a step back, you find yourself against the wall - which suits you fine. One less area of weakness. "Like, stupidly hot."

"You're fraternising with the enemy, Jeon," you whisper as he gets closer enough to nudge his nose up against yours. Jeongguk lets his laser gun fall slack over his shoulder. Has his hand beneath your jaw, thumb stroking up onto your cheek.

He nods. Brushes his lips against you as he husks, "That's kinda hot, too."

"Oh, c'mon," Yoongi whinges from the entryway in equal parts disgust and disappointment. He'd been expecting to find someone on the lookout, and also knew Jeongguk would likely have been on a similar route - he just didn't expect to find you two so bloody cosy. As his own hand slaps against his thigh, he's speechless. Just wails, "Really, Gguk?!"

Jeongguk doesn't wanna turn around. Can feel his cheeks flaming a shade so deep it could rival the red laser of his gun, which is currently pointing towards the floor.

A moment of weakness. A rarity.

One you'd be stupid to not indulge in.

You swiftly lean around Jeongguk. Whip your gun into position. Aim straight for Yoongi's chest and beam as brightly as a thousand suns when his vest begins to flash.

But you know Jeongguk has realised what you've done - and so at the speed of absolute lightning, you twist your gun back on itself and shoot at the target on Jeongguk's back. The vibrations ripple against you too, as both men curse you out, unable to get their own back while they're in 'recovery' mode.

Pulling yourself away from Jeongguk, you bolt for the entryway Jeongguk must have come from. "Bye, boys!"

You beeline straight for your home base, as you know that's where they'll be off to next. Seoyeon's still in position. Aims for you, until she realises you're on her team.

"Oh my god," she exclaims, and it sounds as if she's been holding her breath for hours. "I've been so scared. You never know who's gonna come round the corner!"

Nodding, you come to stand by her. "Gguk and Yoongi are upstairs. I got them both. Think they're gonna be looking for revenge."

And as you feel your vest vibrate with no indication of where a shot came from, you're proven right. Seoyeon chirps in surprise as her vest does the same.

"You bastard," you grin as Jeongguk walks into frame, and leans against a partition wall with all the casual arrogance you'd expect from him.

"Don't hate the player, baby. Hate the game."

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

[headingalaxys-spicy]

What would happen if yandere America and England fell in love with someone who is their perfect match? Like they're equally as smart and powerful as them, to the point where anything they throw at her she can throw right back at them. And at first she was civil about it and politely asked them to stop and reinstated that she isn't interested, until she eventually reached her limit and warned them that she won't hesitate to fuck them over if they keep testing her. Knowing so well that she can take them on, and she's right to be brave because they actually feel like they're armwrestling themselves in this fight. Making their infatuation and want to control her even stronger.

P.S any AU with this one will do

I tried with this one and tried to have some accuracy in real life but probably missed the mark especially on Englands part but hope you still enjoy!

Going to go with a Human AU on this one because I feel like there is more room for Tit for Tat, or something like that.

Further explanation about this post because I botched it so badly lmao.

🇺🇸 America 🇺🇸

As he dressed himself for the day a permanent smile was plastered to his face. He was ready to claim his prize after several months of meticulous planning was about to unfold. He’s been daydreaming about being able to kiss you on the lips for the longest time, and the longer you play, keeping away from him fried his nerves. He bit down on his thin lips in anticipation. How would you react? Would you escape the strings that he’d try to attach this time, or would he be able to have you caught in his trap finally? He prayed to god that you wouldn’t be smart enough to outdo him this time. He ignored the doubts in his mind and stayed positive. After all he was a powerful government official just like you, but stronger right? Right?

One of his assistants knocked on the door of his room in the white house.

“America, sir, the security detail is here to escort you to the airport, and as requested, your 50 McGriddles with an extra large Coke are ready as well.” He knocks him out of the multitude of thoughts that surrounded you. He hated but loved at the same time that you gave him the difficult challenge of capturing you. Even though you were one of his leading diplomats in consular services in (country you want to work in), he was headed there today to discuss one of the latest incidents that happened under your watch. He was eager to see how you’d manage this latest crisis. This one had to work. Treason was the latest and most diabolical plan he’d set in place. Knowing full well that the United States did not take such offenses lightly. Yes, this was going to be the moment that the spider would have its meal. No way in hell could you escape this time.

In his previous attempts to get you displaced from your position as the Consul General, he tried to have an entire swath of Americans complain about your work ethic and the general maintenance of the Consulate in (country). Everything from the improper issuing of passports, visas, and lack of training for the newer staff. In short, you are failing in your duties on the ground in your country to provide adequate services to the citizens of the United States. Frustratingly within only a span of 24 hours, you were able to find the faults in his plan and figure out that the documents had been falsified, claims were fake, and ensured that all passports and visas were accurate and up to date. He fucking hated that you were a diligent worker and effective problem solver. He had to up the ante.

When you had a meeting with him and the rest of your staff at the consulate, you’d given him a verbal confirmation that you knew it was him trying to mess with you.

“As stated, a few of the affected citizens stated that there were some persuasion and unconfirmed accusations that have strong connections to this being an internal issue. Hopefully, whatever is going on in the homeland will not continue.” You pointedly look at him with your cold (eye color) clash with his calm blues that showed no hints of guilt within them.

Next came the documentation leak of his own citizens. It hurt him to do his citizens this way, but it was worth the sacrifice to be able to have you in his arms. A few eggs had to be broken in order to obtain you. This was much more egregious and as such much harder to evade the webs that were being spun in order to apprehend you.

“My cyber security team has detected vulnerabilities and updated our continuous parameter monitoring. However, we did have issues over the past week with numerous cyber attacks compromising a few of the files that we have within our database.…” You caught onto the flicker of joy that welled within those pools of blue. Your heavenly voice tickled his ears; your failings at keeping people’s private information were going to lead you right into his arms once you were-

“We came close to having a massive leak within our systems. I collaborated with the FBI and CIA to aid me and my staff to update and train all on new procedures, and updating our systems for the maximum protection of the citizens of the United States.” You shuffle your paper loudly as if it were a gavel laying down your latest declaration. “There should be no further interruptions, within my consulate Mr. America.” Finally, addressing him in a highly harsh tone. Most in the room took it as you being annoyed that within a span of a month, you’d begun to have these strange issues that no other consulate in the world that was run by the United States was having. You knew damn well that it was the man at the other end of the table smirking who was testing you for whatever reason. You made it clear that you needed him to stop his foolishness. You had more important matters to attend to.

“You can call me Alfred, babe. Don’t be so stuffy. You’re doing great! I’m proud that you’re doing so great.” The compliment had more condescension than praise.

Yet again, his webs failed to enrapture you and connect ties to you. And it made his blood boil that you knew how to leverage all avenues of his own government to keep you out of his arms reach. Alfred still smirked at this latest evasion pretending that he was only feeling pride that you had outsmarted him. He adored your passion and wit but hated it even more so now. A sudden technological leak would have thrown most citizens. But, not you; you were not like most citizens. You graduated from Princeton with your Ph.D. in Public and International Affairs. You were determined to show your mettle and your intellect, which was proving to be difficult for Alfred to connect even a single silk thread to you.

‘Damn it, Y/N, why couldn’t you be stupid?! Why couldn’t you be easier to catch off guard? I’m into it but jeez woman that brain of you’re is alluring and annoying!!’ He angrily moves his pen back and fourth on the yellow writing pad he was given to take notes during the meeting.

“That concluded the end of this meeting. If you have any further questions or concerns you all have my email and phone number. Dismissed.” Pleased everyone vacates the room to head for dinner. You hoped to just rest your eyes. You’d been up for the last 72 hours putting out the latest fire that Alfred had attempted to set within your consulate, and you couldn’t wait to be in bed. As you made your way to the exit, Alfred sped up behind you and firmly gripped your shoulder.

“Wait Y/N I’d like to get dinner with you. Care to join me this evening?” As if he didn’t just try to undercut you moments ago.

“No, I’m tired. I have to go get some sleep. I’ve been at it for the past couple of days putting out fires.” You turn to him with an accusing gaze in your eyes. “And I have better things to do than put up with the games of a petulant child.”

“Oh Y/N are you accusing me of something?” His heroic smile seemed more villainous than anything else. You resist the urge to roll your eyes.

“No, but I would like the games to cease. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to sleep.” You jerk your shoulder away from him forcefully, indicating that you are over the bullshit. A shock of sadness and longing wrenched his heartstrings. Why did his love have to be so cold to him? The sound of your heels clicking further echoed in his ears.

Was he really that repulsive to you? Why couldn’t you see him as your hero that just wanted you to be home and not in (country)? Why couldn’t you see that you belonged to him?

Why?

It was time for him to pull out the big finale. He was determined to have you one way or the other.

Alfred pulled out all the stops in his final attempts to make you cave and lose your job as the Consul General.

He called a secret meeting between the head of the CIA, FBI, and your other heads within your consulate that worked directly under you. It was time to put an end to your clever circumventions. He needed you to warm his bed, dammit; he was tired of it being so frigid at night. Anyone that questioned his motives for having you or stood by you and your tenacity was swiftly removed from the meeting and sent to Guantanamo Bay while he had put in place a plan where a double would fill in their shoes.

“But, America Sir, Y/N is the best Consul General that (country names) office has ever had! For the first time in decades, everything is running smoothly! Why ruin that? For some self-serving ego? Don’t you give a damn about your citizens!?” One of your vice consuls shouted out, indignant and the stupidity of the immortal country to have you be tired of treason and extradited to the United States.

“This is ludicrous, Mr.America! Y/N is one of your best! Why the hell are you trying to set her up for treason!” The man in his late 30s practically sprang from his chair in rage.

America’s haunting frown, an ominous glint in his eyes hinted that the two would be in for a horrendous future. Regardless, the two vice consul men didn’t sit back down in their seats. They were going to stand by their leader.

“Well, I the two of you like being waterboarded.” He snapped his fingers and swiftly, the two were removed from the room. “Anyone else?” Three consular agents slapped their IDs on the table and willingly accepted their awful fates with the other two. America raised an eyebrow.

‘Damn. She really does have a great deal of influence. Now really is the best time to get her out of here.’

“Now that, that’s settled onward with the plan.”

You’d received an extremely concerning text from your consul members that America hadn’t yet apprehended. Letting you know that evacuating the country was the best thing for you, and you had to do it NOW before the sun had a chance to rise. You tossed all of your necessary documents and withdrew all your money from (country’s bank); you had to pull a favor from some of the (pick a nation that you’d collab with) diplomats for a favor to hide you and help you obtain a new ID and change your entire persona. You explain that you would be framed and that America was up to some devious bullshit. They gladly lent a hand since you’d aided some of their citizens when they were in a pinch. You didn’t turn back, but you knew you’d always be on the run with America always pining for you.

🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿 England 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿

This week had been trying for Arthur. He stirred his spoon continuously in his porcelain tea cup for the past ten minutes. He stared off into the distance. His head was abuzz with thoughts of nothing but you and your many schemes to avoid the strings that he tried to tie to you. After all you were a perfect doll, perfect, clever, and stunningly beautiful. He, to some degree, wished that you were much more dense and docile; perhaps then it wouldn’t be so hard if you weren’t a top grad at Cambridge and adept at managing the political chaos that he orchestrated from the shadows.

This puppet master was determined to attach his string so that he could be in control.

The latest ploy to obtain you involved a public political stunt organized to get the public to have an amount of distrust within you as an ambassador. He called in a few favors from Italy and from some of his MI6 to make a public outcry of you not doing your job in aiding them from being detained.

“Ms. (Last Name), what is going on why have you and your team been so slow to respond to the requests of the 10 detained U.K. citizens who’ve been pleading for your help? Have you no dignity?” A report flings an accusation in your face when you first left your apartment in (country name). Clicks of several different cameras and other people who were clamoring for the scoop to make headlines in various publications across the globe.

“Will you be stepping down soon? There have been a few rumors that a few of the heads would like for you to have an official persona non grata to be in the process!” Another shouted at you to spark your attention and to give you anxiety. However it did the opposite, it made your blood boil but you reamied composed and simply walked away from the mass of reporters that seemed bent on hunting you down. You picked up your pace and hopped into the SUV that one of your fellow counselors was driving. You were thankful that you had a close-knit team within your consulate.

“Soooo, there have been crazy rumors spreading on TikTok…”

“Of fucking course.” You roll your eyes and practically shout out. “That’s how all the craziest shit gets started. Let’s just get ahead of all this and figure out what’s actually going on.”

“Well, I have few theories on some of the higher-ups or one in particular that has been gunning for you mate.”

“Oh god yeah, not him. I absolutely hate him. Kirkland.” Your eye twitches somewhat in having to mention him. The bastard had tried to repremand you publically to embarrass you but you put a stop to it real quick. He’d tried to accuse you of favoring your host country you resided in currently when it came to talks about trade deals. When you pointed out there were obvious flaws in his logic that deals in (country) were precarious due to him being greedy in previous years. That in turn made it much more difficult for you to make reasonable concessions that didn’t spark outrage in the nation you were in and tend to the demands of the United Kingdom. You mind wandered back to one of the first times you had to be combative with the prick.

‘Balancing is all a part of being a diplomat, along with sometimes having to make difficult decisions that not everyone will understand at the present moment. Mr. Kirkland. Besides, I was able to obtain usage of those ports and got a better deal on exports so that the citizens of the U.K. won’t have to pay so much for certain goods. We may have to cut them a better deal on precious metals and petrol but cutting good deals is my job afterall. Not to simply plunder places.’ You shuffle your papers and give him a severe side-eye after he tried to accuse you of not doing what’s best for the U.K. in the long run. ‘After all at least I’m able to maintain positive relationships with others unlike you.’ Not even trying to be subtle about your disdain for him and his continued interference in your responsibilities. It wasn’t the first time during a meeting that he’s tried to undercut you.

You remember the burning heat from his glaring green eyes was intense, it felt as if there were lasers aimed directly at your back. However, you didn’t honour his gaze. You simply marched out with the rest of your consulate staff to continue on.

On the inside, Arthur loved the challenge and it made him want to fawn over you more. The line between love and hate was insanely thin for him. On the one hand, he wanted to come up with several scathing quips to cut you down; on the other, he loved the fact that you were bold enough to talk back to a higher-up like him. It was quite the thrill. He wondered if you’d maintain that type of energy in the bedroom. He didn’t want to push you any further, considering he understood he had angered you enough, and it was quite clear that he had obvious feelings for you. Not all of which were entirely clear.

You being weary and annoyed by him was an understatement. You outright hated him, and it was obvious by the venom laced in your words. He simply had to resort to telling his fairies and other magical friends of his lovesick woes while he schemed other ways to drive you to him.

When you finally arrive at the consulate building, you rush in, dodging some of the other reporters.

“Everyone to the main meeting room now! We’ve got a crisis situation to handle! Security, no reporters are to come into the building until we come up with a proper strategy in place!” You frantically try to gather everyone and grab your work laptop to estimate how viral the situation was on the international stage. You planned on making a public statement within the next hour to get in front of the rumors.

All guards rush to secure all of the entry points while they diligently wait for your next commands.

From the comforts of his balcony as he continued to stir his now cold earl grey tea. England checked the news for how the situation was progressing in (country you’re a diplomat in). His green eyes glowed with anxiety and small sparks of joy. It was easy to persuade the hearts of men with emotional fervor, especially when the crisis actors he hired were good at appealing to a population's pathos.

Your (eye color) almost welled with tears when you saw that the videos had already reached 10 million views and counting worldwide. News sites like attn, The New York Times, BBC, South China Moring Post, and Deutsche Welle have already published pieces about the 10 political prisoners who claimed that you denied helping the U.K. citizens in their desperate time of need.

“Oh fuck me sideways.” You felt sick. This was the first time that the situation had ever gotten away from you this badly. It would take you weeks if not months to get out of this. The worst part is that your phone was ringing and it was from the high commission in the U.K.

“They’re coming for her job oh jolly. Ahahahaha.” Arthur was reading the email that had been sent out. The persona non grata he requested had been granted.

“Y/N are you okay?” All of the other ministers and counselors were looking at you as the color drained from your face.

Before you had a chance to react the doors of the meeting room had been flung open and some of the royal guards were there to retrieve you and extradite you back to back to the United Kingdom to be tried.

“Ambassador (First Name) (Last Name) you must step down and head back with us, the royals have commanded you to do so. If you resist it will only make things far more difficult for you.”

[katyspersonal]

Looked at some models myself

Hey guyes! Remember how I complained about wanting to become an old lady? Well, I have good news for you (and myself)....

LOOOOOOOOK!!!!!!

Okay this IS pretty cool! I was able to borrow that one save-editing program thanks to a friend (and the fact that code can be reused two times) so I was looking through some models, I wanna see more and figure some other stuff too, but... jees, seeing this for myself on the BIG screen is so much better than taking low-res pause captures from low-res youtube videos fsjdfh

This set comes in one piece, as only chest piece, but covers everything including head, and attempt to wear actual head/legs/arms pieces causes clipping.

I also found out that Adella’s dagger IS a weapon that can be equipped, sort of! I found out by looking at the page with Hex IDs for weapons, and it was right up there ( x ). So yes, I tried this one too.

Turned out that it does have strong attack animation AND charge attack programmed, however, they do not deal any damage. I’ve tried several times, and nope. Adella, apparently, only uses the L1 attack with it, that is rather slow and repeats her slowly staggering to stab us - you can see the damage it is dealing is rather low, actually. So, yeah, unfortunately, not effective weapon at all... It swings way faster if you use L1 after R1, but, again, doesn’t deal damage to any enemy!

Also it IS bigger than I thought it was o:

There are also these REALLY strange looking untextured black arm pieces for some reason. Don’t even know what to use them with, because they clip through other clothes. Was also really upset to find out that I could NOT, in fact, wear Mico’s cut content handcuffs or Garden of Eyes’ head.

Again, this is just soooooo much better up close and seen by myself!

Her clothes pieces also have actual icons, and even reasonable defence stats, which is so neat? Don’t know what else it is supposed to mean other than these were intended to be possible to loot and wear, but... yeah

I was editing a save file using IDs found by that cool person Sanadsk / Omega Fantasy, ones for armors are specifically revealed in this document ( x ), but there are also IDs for stuff like weapons and items ( x ). Interestingly, there are still no Hex IDs for weapons from DLC anywhere I could find... But I think that’s even to the better, because everyone must experience getting Rakuyo by themselves jhfdshjfdshfd I think I will just gather them on my own later, by keeping track of placing a weapon with known ID, recording where it is in the save file, and then equipping a DLC one on its place and writing down the number. It is really easy, just need to play until that point now because my progress was lost due to having to switch account on one possible for online :s ....but when I finish with that, I will NOT share Rakuyo’s ID with the public, because everyone should fight Shark Giants, ahahahaha!!!!!!!!!!!

By the way, a myth got debunked!

I thought Annalise had a low-res ring on her hand, but turned out that it was just a clipping issue in her fingers, that applies to both hands! D: Yeah, there is a chest piece that, rather than just giving her dress, changes entire player’s model to Annalise! With ridiculously blueishly pale skin, long demelanized hair and... no face, apparently...

So yeah, I want to find out more stuff, such as how to replace one NPC with another to take a closer look and freeze enemies/bosses in non-hostile positions, I have some ideas on how that could possibly be pulled off! This thing is also convenient if you really need to look at something but you messed a questline (like how I had to start a new game to see Henryk’s armour because I accidentally aggroed Eileen early т.т). And of course I am going to save-edit dungeons! I can’t explain it well, it just... being able to see and capture things by myself feels so much better than relying on videos and screenshots found online?

However, one thing annoyed me! Like, I don’t know if the version of Save Wizard get to use is somehow ‘wrong’, or things are JUST like this, but there was one irritating thing that only occured to me a bit late?

Basically, imagine that you want to look at Adella’s dagger close, so what you want to do, is, obviously, to replace a Hex ID for weapon you already have in your equipment with Hex ID for it! For example, unleveled Hunter’s Axe! We can see ( x ) that Hex ID for Hunter’s Axe is 004C4B40 ! So what do you wanna do when you see 100500 lines of shit like this?

Naturally, just hit search for 004C4B40! But for some reason, the search instead glows blue at 40 4B 4C 00 instead! And yeah, you probably figured by now what is wrong here, but I didn’t get it at first? I kept searching and trying to find what was wrong, and then gave up and replaced 404B4C00 with the normal ID for Adella’s dagger - 000DBBA0 . And... I got jackshit. Just empty item.

But then I did realise that the weird numbers and letters search gives me do, in fact, make sense...... This ABSOLUTE MOTHERFUCKER, for some reason, wrote Hex IDs in inverted order! And not as in, ‘write the same line backwards’, no! Instead, the ID consists out of 8 symbols but they are paired, so you have to write PAIRS in reverse order, but not reverse the order of the letters themselves! So the correct way to insert Adella’s dagger would be to write 00 0D BB A0 as A0 BB 0D 00!

BUT HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT?????? AAAAAAA!!!!!!

Again, I don’t know, maybe it is on me, I just thought it was painfully obvious how to use this program and I didn’t expect something to be odd, especially with Hex IDs already known to the public - why not write them in ‘correct’ order then? But yeah, the riddle was solved, and I get how it works a bit better now. This is really satisfying that I can DROWN in references now, but I’ll need to take my time with this thing, because with some stuff I still dunno what to do. For example, I saw people edit where Doll is by replacing her ID with ID of like... some cut content model such as King or Beltran, to take a closer look, but for that I do need ID for the Doll first. :thinking_emoji:

I will find out I guess, this thing is simpler when you get around intuitively knowing where is what code.

[xenosagaepisodeone]

Ive heard it said that the lolita community has gotten a lot better since the like, message board days, but I'm not actually in the community so can't verify. I'm in some local FB groups for it and it seems pretty cute and supportive and people do clothing swaps and stuff, but I see on wider platforms like tik tok/reddit there's a really smarmy vibe and people act like they are fighting a social issue when someone wears off brand knickers or something. Tho even w the in person stuff there will be events where they r like You MUST have an appropriate outfit on or we will turn you away which I guess makes sense form like the popularity of the style vs the entry bar so they maybe don't want to be outnumbered by plainclothes lolita-curious in a fashion subculture but idk it just seems really dumb especially for things like cons. Like ive never seen a furry or goth meet up that had a dress code.

I do think that a lot of the strict rules that micro lolita communities have about the fashion are very silly, but some of them make sense if you consider lolita fashion a form of play. The meetups, tea parties, practiced poses/mannerisms are all built on a collectively understood but unspoken set of rules, which are performed with the intention of achieving a certain atmosphere that one could not do on their own. I know that not all meetups and such have an element of roleplay, but lifestyle is an inherent component of fashion in a way that's dissimilar to music/art-oriented subcultures like goths and furries. I used to think that it was ridiculous how serious these girls would get about clothes until I conceptualized that the hundreds of dollars spent on pieces from renowned brands was not simply about securing a quality item, but evidence of belonging. authenticity, earned through an arbitrarily determined but irrefutably documented monetary exchange. luxury goods excavated for meaning, reshuffled 10, 000 times over in the form of different coords, but never losing it's elevated splendor. knowing how to order stuff from overseas becomes almost eldritch knowledge due to how having contact with this thing most people in your area don't exposes you to an entirely new and deeply captivating way of being.

still, like my first sentence points out, I agree that a lot of people are stupid as hell about lolita fashion. brand elitism is annoying and vapid no matter how much you insist you are Actually defending the integrity of the subculture. On top of that, it contributes to stagnancy and toxicity within communities since the focus on keeping the fashion "pure" instead of loving it and having fun only drives people to attack newbies who haven't mastered some arbitrary set of rules. idk if people are still weird about replicas, but I remember years ago they were a super hot topic for no other reason than the girls who could afford high end brands had Commodity Fetishism Brain.

Anyway that is enough of my weighing in on a fashion subculture I do not belong to I'm going to bed.

[jeannahas]

Judgement

Heartbeats.

Again. Pulsing. Deep. Rhythmic.

A heart, stationary in a dark space, beating. blood flowing. Dark, twisted. greedy.

Rage. Mine- deep, sudden, unprovoked.

Faster, faster, heat rising, almost crushing itself in a desperate fear -

Smoke. Embers, Curling flames along the edge of paper, a charring of the tissues, trails of dark fire racing across the veins, the arteries, one final THUMP -

Ash.

One word, loud, overbearing, filling every FIBER of my being -

EXCISE.

I sit up.

My blankets lie far to the side of me, cast off at some point during the night, as I gulp for air, my arms trembling in that way they always did when I was dragged from sleep, as my nerves struggled to connect to my mind once again, struggled to fight through the murk of sleep. I felt a pain - a stabbing headache like a migraine, as I force my eyes to open, staring at the hardwood floor of my small one bedroom apartment, as that dream haunted my thoughts. My body was still stiff, and limp, at the same time - but my mind was as far from sleep as it could have been.

I fumbled for my phone at the edge of the nightstand, wincing as it flared to life at full brightness before I tamed the overbearing light, rapidly typing into the searchbar: "Excise - to remove a section of a document." That wasn't right. I scrolled for more definitions - Root: Ex- to remove, out of, cise - cut. Ok... to cut out, to remove. Apparently it was a term that was sometimes applied to medicine, to cutting things out, cutting out bad tissue. Or something.

I rubbed my eyes, but opened them again, staring blankly at the floor, before I forced myself to stand. That dream... Felt different. Felt important. My arm twitched, and I winced in pain, glancing down as my hand seemed to clench. I felt my heartbeat spasm, and I gasped as I fell to my knees, but the feeling subsided almost immediately.

I opened my phone - opened the news.

A livestream - playing. Had I left it running? It was some political campaign, and everyone was in a panic.

Ah. The title mentioned The Orange Idiot. Wait - a stretcher? Medical staff rushing onto the stage?

By the end of the day I knew what had happened. It was published all over the news everywhere, and soon YouTubers and news sites were directing it.

Assassination - probably. He had collapsed on the stage, clutching his chest as his eyes went wide, limbs spasming in pain and some kind of horror mid-speech. He fell to the ground, and medics rushed over, and reportedly he clutched at them and tried to speak - and promptly died.

It was the autopsy report that stuck with me. The description.

His heart - immolated. Charred, all the tissue around it burned as if the heart had been the source of the flame.

It couldn't be....

Right?

I had to know. I had to test my dumb theory. Because each night, I had the same dream. But it was not the same heart, each night different, different feelings, different thoughts.

Always, the dream ended with the same chilling word.

EXCISE.

That morning, I woke up early. And actually got up, got dressed, and walked into the living room as the sun began to rise, just barely peeking into the second floor of my apartement. In my hand... a list. Names. ones I knew. Cancers. Corrupt tissue in society. Only five. Just in case... something.

Shakily, I drew the blinds, cutting out the sun. I turned on the TV, and flipped it to the first live story I was casting from my phone. It had been live for the Orange Idiot, maybe that was important?

I tuned into the first one. An interview. Rare, with this individual. He talked about his plans for expansion - for automation. The reporter accused him of mistreating his employees as he managed the many warehouses - of how easy it would be for him to solve some of the big issues that threatened humanity - or at least the nation.

It wasn't even voluntary.

I could SEE it. Beating. In his chest. A heart. A faint, ghostly echo, superimposed before my eyes. It beat calmly. emotions wafting off of it- pride, disinterest, frustration at being challenged.

I extended my hand, trembling, and for a moment, it felt as if I held that heart in my hands. I saw him hesitate, pause, touch his chest with a perplexed expression as my hand gripped the phantom heart before my gaze. It felt like a stood before him, above him, below, smelling everything, feeling the emotions and confusion.

I flexed.

Pain flared in my chest too, but I didn't let go. In the span of a second - maybe two - the heart was reduced to char. It faded from my view, and suddenly, the video caught up to me. The man - wealthier than almost any other on earth, cried out once in pain, before the fire seared the edges of his lungs, whips of smoke puffing out of his mouth for a moment as he clutched at his chest, pitching over sideways.

Screams.

I turned the TV off. Turned my phone off.

It was... true then.

I looked back at my list. Steeled myself.

Three died that day. I tried to do it with photos - with recordings- nothing.

There was a lot of experimentation that week. Videos of people getting kidnapped, realizing that I couldn't seem to affect things that happened to far in the past. Photos didn't work either.

Word spread of a terrorist movement. Of billionaires and a few governemtn officials - from a couple different countries- dropping dead.

Dictators made live speeches.

Putin.

A few others.

Everyone stopped making live speeches. They noticed the trend. I knew I had to be careful. Had to bide my time. When it was happening, in that moment I could feel that heart in my grasp... I felt things. Emotions. Not my emotions either, I knew that much. I KNEW something terrible. The worst thing that heart desired.

There is so much I wish I could erase from my mind. I threw up the first few times thinking about it. But as evidence of this... curse? Ability? Power? Became irrefutable, I began to see it as something of a duty. I kept up with the news. Made a point to learn about events. Bought binoculars.

A few were... somewhat petty. Three CEO's. Not the most evil... but knowing someone's heart, knowing without a doubt they see people only as something to be extorted... it made it easier in those cases.

After a month, people began making live speeches again. but no one I KNEW was guilty like those first few - I suspected, of course, but I still hadn't tried to... stop the process, once I could see the heart. I didn't know If I could stop it, it felt so automatic. I didn't want to rest causing harm, instead of good. Excising dead tissue can be necessary for healing - but I reminded myself that if done carelessly, limbs can be lost, and irreparable damage can be dealt easily.

Speculation continued as to how the terrorists had managed to strike all over the world in such a short span without being caught - some were calling them acts of god - true maybe, if god was responsible for this - while others called it the work of the devil, or a conspiracy.

I was walking by an alleyway - lost track of time at work. It was winter, and the dark had set in fast. I was walking, had blown a tire.

I heard the gunshot - saw the man rifling through her pockets as her breathing turned ragged.

I didn't even think. Rage pulsed like a fire through my veins.

I gripped his soul - another heart reduced to cinders, his last breath a puff of ash.

It hit the news. The difference of the scale of crime had stood out to everyone. The first time it hadn't been live, the first "petty crime." They found the body of the dead girl, of course, and could tell that he shot her - he was still holding the gun.

A wildfire of speculation. People wondered if it was a group of dedicated vigilantes with rare technology, or if the murdurer had been a member of the "Terrorists" who had gotten on their bad side.

They all guessed wrong. In a dozen different ways. Work closed for a little while.

I left to a rally. A senator - trying to get reelected despite his lies.

This was risky. could they track it back to me? Was that even possible? They could maybe look for patterns in where my cell phone was right? For these ones, where I couldn't just look on the television?

Nevertheless - binoculars raised.

a cruel heart reduced to Cinders. A heart dedicated to wealth, to separating families, to suffering - to dehumanization as a tool of power.

Another corpse on a stage, as cheers and chants turned to screams, as people began to run.

I'd never seen this part. The panic, the fear from the masses. I felt guilty about that. I'd only ever thought about the removal - not the trauma.

It made sense. I hadn't felt the same since the first time I'd done this on purpose.

I almost was trampled. Police arrived, tried to lock everyone in in a bid to find the assassin - rubber bullets, tear gas, any other number of things - police in full riot armor, beating and striking.

One stood in front of me- my eyes met his.

I saw only cruelty.

My eyes locked with his partner's. He was young - in those eyes I saw only fear- a desire not to hurt.

I looked back at the larger man, with the raised baton about to crash down onto my head.

I snarled.

That's all it took. He collapsed, clutching his chest, and I ran with the rest of the fleeing crowd.

I took it slow that month. My family asked if I was alright after having witnessed that, that they found it odd for me to be there at that rally anyway, and they hoped that nothing else happened.

Then something curious happened.

I found a page.

It was just called "The Death List". It bore names of several individuals. CEOs, politicians, murderers, criminals, rapists, and any other number of things.

The name was adopted by the press as the name for this Terrorist Movement that was Me - because anytime I... did what I did - that name was moved to the top of the list - and immediately crossed off.

Two months I did nothing. Then I scratched the first seven names I had been able to verify- and a few others - which I was able to find live events for - off of the list. Murderers and rapists on trial, corrupt officials. One - another of the wealthiest - as he gazed proudly at one of his stolen creations. His bid to immortality.

A few social media sits gained new CEOs that day, coincidentally, with that last mark.

The manhunt began in earnest then. All over the United States, people were searching for members of the "Deathlist" - and many many people were accused. I didn't know what to do about that. How to respond. The deathless itself became a closely monitored site, and I didn't really dare to access it - but copies of the list were thrown up almost everywhere. Researched endlessly. Vetted and disputed.

So I decided to go to an event. I didn't have any other abilities. I was a normal person - just with one dark gift. bullets, knives, punches, bricks - all still the same. Just as painful - just as lethal. This time each person was checked religiously as they entered, and cleared. We couldn't actually see the speaker. Her face was projected onto the screen alongside her name.

That was all I needed. I waited until she said something I knew to be false - until she claimed a LIE I FELT deep inside her soul.

And it burned.

I was trampled that day. Was rendered uncurious. Was detained with 200 other people who hadn't slipped away in the chaos.

We were released eventually. No wire, no mic- but oh boy were we marked to be monitored. They were looking for trends now, patterns.

So I've waited.

And I'll wait. I see changes. Evil being hidden, being repressed in a bid to stay out of the spotlight under the chaos of upheaval and sudden changes. Instability, revolutions, revolts in some places.

But in the meantime.... I'm watching the list. watching as billionaires and cartel kings hide their wealth in new ways the list tracks - watching as live updates of private jets are posted to the Deathlist.

The body of the society knows it is sick -

it has identified the cancer to be excised.

[buttdawg]

I am a Sting-hating Bozo.

I saw a tweet after AEW Revolution last night, which applauded the Sting retirement match, and added that if you didn't like it, you were a bozo. Well, that guy's right, and I'm big enough to admit that this makes me a bozo.

I haven't enjoyed Sting's run in AEW. This was mainly because of the career-threatening bucklebomb he took wrestling Seth Rollins during his WWE run. I wasn't thrilled with the idea of him wrestling in WWE, because I was worried about him getting hurt, and then he got hurt, retired, then came back for the AEW run. It just seemed like a recipe for tragedy, and I wasn't excited to see this guy play Russian Roulette with his body.

I don't like Darby Allin, for reasons I documented a while back. Darby's one of those guys who managed to survive the #speakingout movement, and I don't know if it's because of his popularity with the fans, or his position in AEW, or there were just so many wrestlers being accused that he got lost in the shuffle. For better or worse, AEW decided to have Darby be Sting's sidekick, the young talent charged with supporting him through all his matches right up to the end. Their team had an undefeated streak, and won the tag titles. This was probably solid booking and Sting deserves the honor, but I always suspected that they just didn't want the team losing matches because it would require Sting to take a lot of bumps to make it look credible. The whole dynamic was for Darby to take all the punishment and then he could rally and Sting could do the Undertaker-style magic and they'd overcome the odds. Having them lose would wreck the formula, so I understand what they were doing, but it also made their matches very predictable, on top of my other issues with the act.

I guess what I'm trying to say here is that I respect the arrangement they came up with for Sting's last run. In hindsight, Sting didn't get a tragic injury, and the crowd was loving the whole thing from start to finish, so the formula worked. Sting was sufficiently protected in the ring, it never got stale or boring for the audience, and everyone involved seems to be happy with how things turned out. I didn't care for it myself, but it looks like I'm the only one, so I can't really complain that this was badly executed. They did exactly what they set out to do and the crowd ate it up. Not just Greensboro, but every Sting/Darby match through this entire run.

So yeah, I'm a bozo, because what can I say? I didn't like this whole bit, and I was looking forward to Revolution because it would finally come to an end, so I'm relieved that it's finally over, but I can hardly call it a mistake. At least from a business standpoint, it made all the sense in the world to book Sting the way they did.

It occurred to me during the match that part of my problem here is that I don't really "get" Sting. There was a part of the match where he beat his chest like a gorilla, and that's the thing he always does when he's making a big comeback, like Hulk Hogan's dramatic fingerpoint, or the Undertaker's zombie situp. I've seen Sting do it lots of times in the past, but I never really understood it because I think it just looks really stupid. Tony Schiovane's marking out over it on commentary, and it finally hit me that Sting's fans love it when he does that. I mean, of course they do. It's one of his signature taunts. He's been doing it for decades, and he wouldn't still be doing it if it wasn't over.

But I still hate it. I also hate when Tony Schiovane kept squealing "It's Stiiiiiiiing!" all the time. It sounds dumb and corny, and I thought it was dumb and corny when he did it in WCW, but it's part of the whole legendarium of Sting. At some point it finally clicked that most people actually enjoy hearing Tony do that.

I don't get all the Sting personas. Surfer Sting wasn't a surfer. Crow Sting was just Sting dressing up like the Crow. I just assumed WCW had worked something out with the Crow people, but no, Sting saw the movie and just decided to imitate that completely. Then he watched "Dark Knight" and started working Heath Ledger Joker into his act. I mean, Jon Moxley did that do for a while, but he just took inspiration from the character. Sting just started imitating the facepaint and the character and everyone started calling it "Joker Sting" like we're not even trying to pretend this is a distinct concept here.

There's just something I find inauthentic about the guy. I don't know who ripped off who, but it's always bugged me how the Scorpion Deathlock and the Sharpshooter are the same move. Ric Flair says "wooo!" and Sting has his own "wooo!" with a different cadence and tone to it. He only carried baseball bats around because the nWo was doing it too and he just never stopped. The way I heard it, "Crow Sting" was mainly inspired by Scott Hall telling Sting he should just shamelessly swipe the Undertaker's whole deal. I'm not saying that's wrong or bad. Lots of wrestlers borrow and steal from other wrestlers. What bugs me is that I never really felt like there was a real guy underneath all of that.

Like, whenever Triple H does the Conan the Barbarian schtick, I know that's the sort of thing he's into. When Undertaker did the Bikertaker thing, it was him putting his real life love of motorcycles into the act. Say what you will about the Ultimate Warrior, but what got people into his nonsensical promos was the conviction behind them, like he really believed in whatever he was babbling about.

I guess Sting could be into surfing and "The Mask", "The Crow" and "The Dark Knight", but a lot of it feels like stuff he just latched onto because it was popular and it stuck. All they ever say about him is that he's a really nice, selfless guy, and that's great and all, but it's probably why I never managed to get into him.

But I get it, I'm griping about one of the most popular and beloved wrestlers of the last half-century. I wish him well. I'm just glad AEW is finally done booking matches for him. Hopefully this means we can stop seeing Ric Flair on TV, and maybe they can spend more time on guys like Will Hobbs who deserve the kind of spotlight Sting was getting in the late 80s.

[menacing-anon]

My Predictions Masterpost, Pre-2x04

This is an update on all my predictions after the first batch of episodes! Here's the compilation pre-2x01.

In new promotional material is this ad; I haven't gone through all the photos on the Warner Bros. website that I haven't seen, because at a glance, they seem to give too much away. And as last time, I'm sure there are some great theories out there that I have to miss because I'm running late! Hopefully for the last time this season :)

THIS POST CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR 2x01-2x03.

First, I'll sum up what I got right and wrong in my previous masterpost, though I also made a bunch of predictions between eps that are only documented in my (under construction) reaction vids.

Episode 1: Impossible Birds

What I got right: The cake the Revenge crew eats is wedding cake, and we find out by the end of the conversation about Izzy and Blackbeard's relationship that Ed has repeated his violent act from the finale. Fencing with Izzy is Stede's dream sequence, transportation is an issue for them, and this ep features Stede and Oluwande shopping, etc. and the rainy shots of Stede and his crew. Stede lies awake next to Roach thinking about Ed, which alternates or is consecutive with Ed playing with the cake toppers, but,

What I got wrong: It happens at the end of this episode, and Stede thinks about what he heard about Ed that day. The wedding raid is the first time Ed is shown, the conversation with Izzy happens right after they eat cake, and Ed plays with the cake toppers in the auxiliary closet.

Episode 2: Red Flags

What I got right: Ed just had a rough night, then behaves like he's moving on. The storm happens, and the crew mutinies. Ed is the person with the rock tied around them.

What I got wrong: The Fang and Izzy area starts the mutiny, though Izzy is not in favor of killing Ed. He is still thrown overboard by his crew, is seen falling into the water here, reunites with Mer!Stede and emerges from the sea at the end. The intended new captain is Jim — this we just never find out. Stede runs across the beach, lies awake under Buttons' hammock, and throws the bottle in this ep.

Episode 3: The Innkeeper

What I got right: Izzy's amputation is for medical reasons. The man Ed confronts is a hallucination of Hornigold.

What I got wrong: Izzy's amputation is in this episode and due to the injuries he sustained before the gunshot. The innkeeper is not a character seen anywhere else.

The Rest:

What I got right: The Chinese Outfit Era is before Green Shirt Era. The crew is dressed in Chinese outfits by the (eventual) capturers. The scene where Ed headbuts Stede is around the time of the escape, and they're not made up then or when Stede tells someone that he hurt Ed. This is their IRL reunion. Lucius is alive, he reappears before Stede and Ed make up (in fact, Stede never tries to reunite with Ed while thinking he might have killed Lucius), and this is a reaction to him:

I'm proud of myself for this last one 😅

What I got wrong: The Chinese Outfit Era in in episode 4. The crew wears the Chinese outfits to blend in with another group. The scene with Anne and Mary? is Stede and Ed's IRL reunion. This shot of Zheng is in episode 6, on the other side of this street chaos:

Now onto predictions! *rubs palms*

Episode 4: Fun and Games

Every time, the way I thought an ep would end was actually the way the next started, so I figure we start with a headbut! 😅 B****, you thought 🤭 Ed probably walks out of the sea in his dream sequence, I would say before that so the headbut causes a sudden tone shift that doesn't wear off.

In the in-between part, Stede tells his re-changed crew the headbut was an accident, but I bet much of what happens has not seen the light of day at all and is so much fun! 😃

...Later, Stede runs into the similarly rumpled, mark-on-his-lip Ed at this furniture... shop? "Former" means Ed intends to leave, so maybe he came to stay with his buddies?

We meet Anne and Mary?, Anne and Stede talk, and they have a double dinner date. It takes a turn 😅

Although the kiss looks like it's in the same room as the dinner — where Stede is already sitting and there would be someone else for Anne to look at — ngl, it's off. Look at the candles and paintings behind Stede 🤔

I'm saying it's this room, or at least the same room in a different scene:

And Anne's tone in this conversation could be interpreted as flirtatious, so idk, maybe she's for real and that look after the kiss is because someone interrupted. Still, the idea that Anne is making a point or trying to evoke some reaction feels more right to me, enough to outweigh the set details that I can't explain away, so I'm throwing it in as an alternative prediction.

By Ed's look and the setting — ooh, and Mary sitting next to him! — I believe this also happens at Anne and Mary's place. I guess they split into duos to talk, before the dinner. EDIT: Actually no, I think it's after Ed causes some havoc at dinner!

There's that clip where Stede demands Ed's respect as his captain. Someone predicted that Ed might step down as captain in recognition of the harm done to the crew, and I suppose it might also be because... they just wouldn't let him stay in a position of power if he sticks around. I believe this might play out towards the end.

Anne and Mary have a bunch of furniture and stuff, and Izzy's peg leg looks like it could be from another object, so I say he gets it from there. Through whom? All my guesses are equally unsupported, but maybe Stede feels responsible, or his anger towards Izzy has cooled off enough to think about what might help him.

What with their training, I think the rest of the Light Shirt Era is too much for one ep, so I'll say it happens in...

Episode 5: TBA

Ed is in his If I Was A Regular Dude Phase outfit, and Stede demands his respect as his captain. I have no idea how they still aren't made up, tbh. Stede isn't just immediately telling Ed why he didn't meet him at the dock, that he loves him, and that he's been looking for him for weeks? 🤨 The whole crew isn't groaning at them to just kiss already? Hyped to see what gives.

Anyway, Ed's disrespect prompts Stede to start training with Izzy. Stede may very well approach Izzy with the idea, 'cause I doubt he would go to Izzy just to be like, "what do I do if Ed doesn't respect me?" 😆 The way I see it, Izzy had two issues with Stede as a captain: his people-positive management style and lack of piracy skills. Stede was never gonna stop supporting his crew, but now that even Izzy is realizing Stede is onto something with that, he could probably respect Stede as a captain if he became a more capable pirate, so he's willing to help make that happen. Otherwise, Izzy sticks around because he feels like he owes it to the crew to improve their situation, which I'm basing on his 2x03 conversation with Stede where he takes responsibility for their pain and wants to prevent more of it.

Izzy instructs Stede on the deck and slices candles. We get a raid, maybe a small one for practice, where Stede picks up a gorgeous coat, fights a guy, and tells an observing Izzy that he's done a punch, as demonstrated on him earlier.

The Rest, Chronologically:

I'm still grouping events by OOTD, though now breaking it down further to include Ed. Below is a handy-dandy chart for your reference. Keep in mind as well that there's Before Earring and With Earring for Stede.

I'm more or less saying it's an episode per slice.

Episode 6: TBA

I am so confused about the order of events in Green Shirt Era 😭 If how much 2x01 changed my predictions for the next two eps is anything to go by, 2x05 or 2x06 will make a lot of this fall into place.

"Alls I know is," in Green Shirt Regular Dude, Izzy and Ed talk outside Jackie's, then Ed talks to Jackie while Stede is a seagull nearby, probably after becoming the object of enthusiasm of these folks outside:

So maybe this is later in the same ep:

Quite possibly around here, Zheng returns and draws her dagger, and Oluwande fights someone.

Green Shirt Era also comprises this:

I think it would happen sooner rather than later, to allow time for more overarching threats and introduce the fireworks, which I'm pretty sure are involved in a later, Banes-related explosion — check out the top right corner.

Also, it's Before Earring, and speaking of that, I know people thought Stede's screaming is post-battle, but I think it might be around here, because of the bullet wound or whatever is going on. Banes also talks to the "gentlemen" at least an episode before they do anything, probably at the end.

Episode 7: TBA

We enter Green Shirt With Earring Back-To-Black Back-To-Beard. Someone was like, "why are they avoiding showing Ed in the ad? what are they hiding?" The beard that he grows overnight! And that's what everyone's screaming about here, if you ask me 🤭

More likely, it's an intimidation tactic! 🙌 Which is why Ed equally quickly loses it in time for the larger-scale beach battle.

Stede talks to someone about being a failure, probably before the succeeding action. The soldiers raid? the bar, and Zheng, Stede and Ed prepare to fight. There's that protagonist-caused explosion, and I suppose that's when chaos ensues on the street. Right before it might also be when Ed says that something's wrong.

New threat introduced and assessed, all the mains gather to discuss the suicide mission: the beach battle. Right? Surely it's not at the bar. I don't know when Oluwande, Jim and Archie wear dumpling chains, but nobody was shown stealing them, so perhaps it's after they ally with Zheng against their common threat.

lizardywizardry points out in the replies to the ad that "it's only suicide" is clearly from a different conversation than "if we die," predicting that Stede gives Ed a last-night-on-Earth speech, and naranja-petrificada did raise the possibility of Gentlebeard having a bittersweet sex scene with that context in the finale.

On the first point, yes, and I'm not oblivious to the possibility that that's actually when Gentlebeard make up. Super late, but as naranja-petrificada suggests, penultimate episode para||el 🤷‍♀️ I won't commit to that prediction, though; I think they'll get there by the time they're planning all together.

Secondly, Gentlebeard's probable sex scene — Chekhov's orgasms — totally escaped my previous post, whoopsie daisies, but I'll say... end of episode 7. It suits for an ending, it almost para||els the timing of their first kiss, and it won't detract from the fuckery-heisty-ambitious-packed-twisty-cliffhanger finale. naranja-petrificada says that might mean a morning after scene, which I would also bet on, and they have some more interesting ideas from there!

Episode 8: TBA

Morning after scene, then suicide mission. During it is the other time I think Ed might say a storm is coming.

Frenchie, Lucius and Izzy infiltrate in army? attire. But as I wrote last time: Izzy is also the only character seen talking to the new antag, about piracy and in his regular outfit. No way he gets in cahoots with them, and he could be recognized during the fuckery if it were before, so I guess that's in the aftermath...? Much to think about.

Also Red Shirt Era manages to slip in after...? I am SO confused, I'm SAYING 😫

And that's it! I'll be back to reevaluate before the next drop! 😃

[kevinlemnah]

I got a song for tre

But I also got songs for Dr. Dre

Tell Dr. Dre, I’m not Eminem

But I am fresh off a relapse

I’m about to snap

Read the lyrics I like to cap

But just know this is NoCap

You and Jamal set me up motherfuckers

The first time I got played

275 on a zip of some chronic

But bitch you better know I got the best exotic smoke

Shout out to my collective team

I’m about to have the ultimate dispensary

Call it a retail collective

I have a bunch of stock

Shout out to the jet life stock

I’m invested

Invest in me see a return

But this is just a flip

Shut out DJ flip

A return to your promotion video

But if you’re talking about Kevin stock

On my Block

I’m the Niga would wood

The bitches gonna love my wood

But the last bitch loved marvel

I gave her the Dopest fucking

Custom Incredible Hulk glass bong

Goddamn, Kevin was wrong

Include that in the song?

But I’m not wrong

Coming correct

Like to see others happy

And I know how much you really like the Incredible Hulk

But bitch, you better know

I am a monster

I’m so fucking green

You know I’m the Hulk

But you like your medicine

Call you a nurse

But let you know I’m a fuck every porn star

Who likes to dress up as a nurse

Afterwords, I’ll buy them a purse

But talking about being a scientist

Call me Bruce Banner

But to recognize my strain of the day

Call Bruce Banner

Look At my profile, what says the banner

I got one wood

Actually, i changed the picture

It shows shows that I got tomatoes

Call me the farmer

But my rapper image is surely building

My legacy always say I’m a builder

Also, a fucking rapper

So I can’t wait to eat one of my tomatoes

I grew them with love

To document my growth

Call me a junkie because I relapsed the night. I got home from the mental hospital.

Are you best believe I didn’t get high till the end of the night

I was working on my chores. I was losing my mind. I cried, so goddamn hard when I finally got home.

I was home, but he didn’t feel like home

What is home when your family betrays you?

Fuck you Tre And Jamal I don’t know why you motherfuckers hate me

But I do know now see me I’m coming greatly

But if you ask lee , I’m a renegade maniac

But that Niga really is a fucking maniac

And he gives it raw and unfiltered. he’s a crazy motherfucker

He might be a pussy but he’ll come direct

I’m only saying he’s a pussy because

He’s in love with his wife

Because he claims he wants a whore

But really it’s his wife he adores

I never fucked Missy

But I will fuck any other husbands wife, that is unhappy

Lee I just hope you can make her happy

The Bitch accepts you

The whole world rejects me

But call me rejected

That’s probably just my homework

Because of the late submission

But I’m on a rap mission

And I’m dominating

But just know her pussy’s going to get dominated as long as she consents

It’s an open message to any bitch that wants

Kevins dick

But I think one of my songs should be nominated

I’m just tired of being fucking regulated

No regulator on the new whip

Maybe I should turn my life around

Not a drug addict

I’ll be at the adrenaline junkie

Fuck that I’m never junkie

I’m making my own luck

Cousin Stizz couldn’t remember the line

But now I do, I got lines

But this is just a line that came from you

My Destiny talks to me

Or maybe I’m just talking to the fucking government

I’ve been regulated

But I guess they had the vet me

So they could see me be my best me

They saw the worst

So I did not expect to start this rap

I was about to issue a challenge

But if we talking about challenges

I’m a champion the conquers challenges

But I’d like to challenge

Call it get in your wife in my bed

Bitch, you know I’m tweaking I’m just trying to get some head

G Herbo

That’s probably one my favorite songs ever

Did you know I’m a Tweaker

But now I’m official

Tweaker is now. Rapper

I’m also a builder

I’ll give out pain in these pictures

With the songs building

Talking about my setbacks

But this is is a flip

From a flippp

It should of helped me come up

But shout out the junkie

Because of you, Tre and Jamal

Be it a dedication

But I am educating

You guys were fucking junkies

You fucking robbed me

So you’re so crazy gangster

For being a thief

I hated being a fucking thief

Shout out mt thieving friends

Back then I used to sin

I trade anything if I see the value

Or can profit

But I’m going legit

Call me a Barter man

But this is not a trade

Shout out wayne

I might be the new goat

Ask drake how’s that for fair trade

The trade is not fair

Kevin’s mentality capacity

Lost my guardian of the galaxy

But this is just a rap to the galaxy

Look into my crystal orb

I’m going astronomical

Where am I spiritual?

Definitely wasn’t a chemist

But I knew the chemist

Shout out wayne

Must suck to be dead

Kevin The junkie is dead

Kevin, the rapper coming ahead

I’m

Ahead of everyone I grew up with

Because of that set back

Just held me back

I just wanna know what you do it with the 300 bucks

I could’ve used it

But I robbed a bunch of people

In my quest to say high

So if you support me

Just say hi

But if I owe you I already know you ain’t gotta tell me why

I’ll pay that bill

Im about to pay all my bills

My life has been on chill

I’m frozen

I just can’t stop I’m numb to my music

Please don’t abuse it music

But my setbacks push me forward

So this is just a dedication

To the Niggas who glorify Robbing

Fuck a thief

Kill the junkie

You’re lucky I’m a nice guy

So I dedicate you to my success

Call You lucky

just know bitch you robbed me

Try it again, and I will shoot the gun

Bitch I don’t need the gun ima be so fucking rich

You’re not even gonna be able to get access

To where I’m located

I’m about to relocate

But I’m not scared

If you want to hurt me

Claim it , ride on my enemies

Kevin Drug addiction is my only enemy

That is not an enemy no more or a crutch

I’m obtaining success

So check my attendance at the next event

I need some promotion

But I still got motion

See me on the track

Call me the train

My freedom train is rap

I’m the little engine that could

But my dick could fuel your engine

Go fast, it’s not diesel

But you know it’s sour

The weed get me up , I’m going sativa

I like some jet fuel

Bitch, I cum gold

I got gas , call me the fuel pump

But just watch me work

Feel my dick pumping

She likes it raw and unfiltered

Maybe I should send my adult letters

And as a submission to the penthouse letters

I just know I want more than a penthouse

I’m coming own the building

But it’s always nice to have a few different options

So, I have multiple houses

I’m a builder I see potential

Just an upper fixer

I’m fixing my life without the uppers

Because I know I’m a control my drug addiction

Because I can have drugs

And not feel the need to use them

So am I a junkie or just an intelligent person

Because I understand the value

Call me the Dea or the CIA

Because I used to meddle in the drug profession

But I hated that profession

I never wanted to make that my career

No, I’m following my passions

I’m making my own career

I got a legacy

But don’t call the FBI on me

I’m not that much of a threat

Goddamn I gotta do another freestyle

Because I got so much style

My creative perspective

Last song I dropped

I was about to hit you with some real fucking tweaker tale

But my thoughts were blurred

Because everything connects

But my next Tweaker tale

Is no Fools tale

These are just the stories of my life

Talk about bombing

My songs are doing damage

Kevin wasn’t a terrorist

But if you have never heard the story about my brother going to Israel

I’ll give you a mental, wicked story

Call it a tale

But this is the real life edition

Kevin doesn’t need a spin off

Come in as the original

Goddamn, I’m so original

My rap is so goddamn fucking hard

hear these words

And read the lyrics

How is this for my latest submission?

Todays

the day?l

I’m

Making my way

Bitch get the fuck off the highway

Move out of my way

2 AM drive goldHighway

I lived the high way

But I’m looking for a new way

I got clarity

But these diamonds are gonna give me the clarity I deserve

The recognition of what drugs did to me

Sold snow to get some ice

I told Medo, fuck, Trappin

And he’s gonna die in the feds

I’ve lost a lot of friends

Who will miss me if I’m dead

So, I’m rapping before i end up dead

Well, I was tired of being dead last

But I Gofast

When I’m on the drugs

I would love to have a hug

From someone who loves me

Who am I kidding?

I’ll never have that they just want my money

But Bitch I just want some tree

And a good meal

But I’ll settle for all the mils

Tell my sister’s kids, uncle Kevin

Leaving you an inheritance

Creating my destiny

Just hope the whole world sees the best of me

Because I can’t go back to being the worst of me

Hope you see me

But if you don’t

Listen to the songs on the hottest radio channel

Kevin’s channel

I’m coming live raw and unfiltered

ItsUpexclusives your new favorite channel on the radio

Goddamn I can’t believe I’m about to be on the radio

Mental illness is no fucking joke

Shout out radio

But my dad when he was a kid, he took apart a radio and rebuilt it

As a kid

I come from such a blessed family

Can’t make this up

just thoughts from my diary

Call the cloud

I Kevins, not a clown

But I’m clowning

Maybe Krump

I’m

Not teeflii

But I rap ,

But I also i Krump

Talk about dance

I just need a new balance

I’m so off-balance

Balance is key

Just ask me

Or ask king los

Talking to the goat

What are all the rappers votes?

Is Kevin the certified goatkiller?

Will he ever get a feature for #all the goats

I’m gonna make some money off my certified goatkiller Album

But you already know that shit is going platinum

So give me a trophy

I’m achieving my victory

Winners circle

Jet Life to my new life

Jet Life to the next life

Just wanna know how it was that weed

You smoked in the music video for the song breakfast

Kevin’s about to get a new address

Studio location what’s the address?

I need a feature

But you already know the shop is open

I got songs

I’m trying to open up my weed shop

Shoutout T.y. I’m about my street life

Fuck living in in the street

I’m too great

And I’m not even baked

What is soon as I take my shower

I want to take two hours ago but got distracted by rapping

You know I’m getting baked

I got so many stories to tell

Just wait for my next tweaker tail

But I got about 30 new uploads to share today

Wanted to work on school yesterday

But I was inspired by a video promotion I saw yesterday

So I’m just continuing the workflow

Into today

But I did get some sleep

Because I was up a couple days

But I’m overworked it’s overtime season

Because my only reason is I’m trying to get pay

Get Kevin paid

But bitch you already know

Another motto

Get Kevin laid

Make my day

But the work I make today

Sure, as fuck should get me paid

What do I know?

I’m just certified crazy

But you know I work I’m never lazy

Just tried to do things the right way by always working a job

But my least favorite job call it working in the Drug business

I’m out of that fucking business

I’m building a career promoting my own business

Kevins, a businessman

But you better believe I’m a motherfucking rapper

I’m an activist

Supporting my own actions

I’m pro active

All the shit just happens

I guess I’ll reach out to Harry Mack

I heard you were the best but those were just fucking Steve’s words

And that motherfucker is an artist

And he said Harry Mack is the best motherfucking rapper

Well, I know of a lotta good rappers

not personally but their lyrics hit my soul

I wonder if mine will touch anyone soul

But voice in these thoughts heal my soul

Tales of the Tweaker

It’s going up

Color map to my soul

Pretty lights

When me and Lucy went to Cali that was the album I listened to across the country

So was born sinner

J. Cole

TJ really liked the dollar and a dream

Well, I got a dream and maybe 10 dollars

I heard you charge 2000 a word

Well, read my words for free

Kevin hart might be a comical

Kevin’s heart might be the real deal

This is just another submission

On a mission to obtain a rap deal

But a rap deal gotta come with the weed deal

I’ll give up the meth

But I’ll need my fucking weed

The last doctor recommendation

Kevin needs advance millions

An unlimited cannabis use

His songs are about to touch the heart

ACross the world I’m going global

In the world of people of about 7 billion

Just know, Kevin is a diamond

Call me the one, I’m rare

Im one in a million

But I’m worth about 4 billion

But taking over the world

Coming global

But I’m gonna make a video today

Because I’m going to play

Not at the driving range

Tell DJ Khaled

My backyard is my golf range

Tales of the Tweaker

Come, see my golf clubs

Ask dirty Dave about my old Ways

Hope he finds new Ways to cope

Me I used to smoke . But I love Coke.

I’m not smoking anymore uppers

I’m just rapping

Hope you see the new up and comer

I might be late, but just know I’m coming

I Bitch, if we’re fucking

I’m a legend I’m fucking for keeps

She better be worth it

If you want my heart to keep

Ima get me a new Jeep

But I’m also going to have a bout 20 new whips

If the bitch gets out of line

I’ll pull out the whip

Put you in your place

These are Kevins rules

Love me forever . I’ll do the same.

But I don’t need you to make my name

But I think the love I had for the women of my past gave you the name

Call me Kevin, I might be boring

I was a lame, but now I’m soaring

Enjoy the fame you got from my name

Kevin’s coming out on top of the rap game

But I really did go insane

So am I so a certifiedgoatkiller?

Certified crazy

But Kevin Lemnah is the biggest rap legend from West Virginia

Take That to the Bank

Let me buy you dinner

But bitch you know I like dessert

I need a treat

Cater to the pussy

Fuck you slow

Record it on the beat

I’m coming Potent

Shoutout to jae millz

Pass me some potent

The Virgo series

That was some gangster fucking shit

Not a Virgo

I’m an Aries

I was born in April

Not April fools

But I am number one

I’m a diamond

Don’t you forget it?

The pressure turn me into a diamond

So I need some diamonds

But even without them, I’m shining

Off the track. But I’m grinding

Like to skate

Shoutout to wayne

I’ll meet you at the office , tell Jim

The new employee is Kevin , fuck Dwayne

I’m not a beet farmer

But I’m a cannabis farmer

And I just started the paper mill

Cause I got a lot of bills

And no paper

So this is just a statement

I’m Schemin

Tell skeme the statement really hit my soul

But real recognize real

Perfect Niggas ain’t real

And real niggas ain’t perfect

Strive to be perfect

But I know I’m humble can’t achieve that

I did achieve progression within my rap

Call the progression

Not Kirko

But hear me vent

Maybe I’m an idiot

Call me idiotKevin

He wrote me a song idiotKenzo

Call me methkiss

But that Niga can suck my dick

But I’ll credit you on the creative influence

Your dis song really helped

Me channel my feelings into some creative perspective

Has the perception changed on Kevin?

Do you think I can be my greatest?

Rocky theme song

Call me the goat

This is the President

hear rapsVoldemort

Speech , soon as I get rich, I’m moving to the beach

But I’m buying dad’s house

Because it means something to me

So did the house on Rosehill

God damn I live on a hill filled with roses

It’s meth , but I’m changing in order to be my best

Not the flower of love

But tell the Bitch, I care if you receive a Flower from me

It will be a rose. Because I’m a hopeless romantic.

just know it’s official

Live and direct from the tweaker official

My independent record label is looking for investors

Sponsor the biggest in the music industry

Call me Kevin I was a loser

But you know I’m winning

Am I Rapping or am I just a poet

Hear the song read the lyrics

This is just another official release. It’s up exclusives.

Hear my music

Given to you directly from a certified renegade maniac

Tell YG he’s a maniac, that gangster motherfucker got some I’ll beats

Ima Buy that CD album

Because yg isn’t the only one one with issues

Kevin’s got issues

Find me in killa Cali

I’ma need some Cali killer

But I’ll give it to much realer

Just don’t kill me, for trying to be the better me

Thank you to any fan who supports me

This is a message from starving artist

About to be a main stream artist

But you already know it’s up

I’ve been real

The Currensy

I need some new house shoes and I’ll take 10 grand and make another Ten 10grand and make another 10 grand

Call me Babe Ruth

The bases are loaded

I’m about to connect with the ball

Call it a grand slam so shout out DJ flip

A tip I’m gonna flip back to the west from the east side little Nigga

Might be little but ask a bitch

- [ ] And she’ll say my dick is bigger

- [ ] Might be a country Nigga

- [ ] Might be the blackest white man

- [ ] Baby grew up, recognize him as the man

Read the bullet points my perspective

Ill highlight the message that is important

Changing my life to me

It is important

Don’t forget it

I’m in a pursuit to be officially legit

Call me legitimate

Not so Way out

It’s just a Kevins way out

Its a blue shirt?

Even if it’s white

Flip the brand

Dj flip gonna help me become the man

I want to be a producer

But I know nothing about producing

I didn’t know anything about writing songs

But now I’m a songwriter

But I’ll give it to the truthful

I’m feeling sick

About to go to detox again

Fuck me again

I’m so fucking hungry

But I was also a sofucking hungry last night

To be honest, I’m lucky I even woke up

I just know Kevin’s woke

I’m not perfect

You can change the story

But the words I spoke

Are the truth

Find me in the booth,

never the court

Tell the lawyer Amanda Greene

Kevin is coming green

So I really might need a Lawyer

And definitely an accountant

I gotta get straight with all my taxes

All my debts

Fuck my credit

I’m paying cash,

With no rap deal I hope I get your respect

All I need is a fucking money check

But maybe some food

I’m still in the hood

Im

At my home

This is my morning work

And again I got distracted

With my career motivations

Dedicated to my musical influences

I see everyone trying to help me

But ima

help myself

Ain’t asking for permission

Do what I want

Prepared for the consequence

So accept my late submissions

I don’t need the credit

Just want you to know I’m capable of getting the job done

I just work better in my own space

at my own pace

But the past is the past

My new pace it’s putting me ahead

I just hope it comes sooner than later

Before pops is dead

But just know ima keep striving to be my best

You dealt with my mess

And you locked me up because of my addiction to meth

But I guess I was angry at the world

When I should of worked harder to change my world

But this goes out to the whole world

Our whole world is about to change

I can be the change

That I want to be

I just hope you see

Open message to Anyone who doubts me

[windwardstar]

#I think maybe 'feels strongly abt gender' and 'doesn't feel so strongly about gender' is also a spectrum#I don't think it's fair to say that nobody would willingly present as a different gender if it wasn't genuine#Otherwise I agree with your points

oh yeah no 100% here, like yeah there are people who don't feel strongly about gender and are cis bc they don't feel strong or who like playing around with it while still being cis or who just don't experience dysphoria. However I was not trying to make that second point about nobody willingly dressing up as a different gender unless it's genuine (which is like.. crossdressing and drag is famously people doing that) and if it came across that was just not intended at all. my post was a stream of consciousness/train of thought ramble i did not my phone bc i was bored and not intended to be anything resembling well thought out thoughts.

so it was not "nobody would present as another gender unless it was genuine" which i thought was clear that oh hey there are women who are not trans who did dress up as men for a short time for specific reasons and then went back to living as women, like they exist, and are well documented, nobody is saying they don't (in fact it's the opposite, everyone is saying it's always a woman dressed as a man and never actually a trans man or masc). It was just me going oh hey why isn't dysphoria something I see brought up in these conversations? because like cis people CAN and DO experience gender dysphoria and as a trans person who is very familiar with being perceived as a gender i am not, that that is fucking dysphoria inducing and did none of those women who were actually women who dressed as men for xyz not-trans reasons experience dysphoria? did any of them talk about that? (because like, if you go on, it was the only way to do xyz thing, surely some of them still had to dress as men despite it being dysphoric? why don't we hear that? Or is it simply the ones that didn't like dressing up as men simply found other reasons and the "woman dresses as a man to accomplish task' self selected only for the women who never felt any dysphoria around it?

But also saying that hey there is a huge issue with refusing to call anyone a trans man and just saying everyone is a woman dressed as a man (and that it's a huge choice to go "We can't know this woman who dressed as a man, went by a male name, and insisted on being treated as a man, was actually a trans man or even abides by our concept of gender so we're going to continue to use she/her and call her a woman throughout this discussion because one of these is seen as a neutral default and the other a political modern label, when like, both statements then are equally unknowable for the person in question") and how like, hey people who do that, maybe consider that living as a gender you aren't can be super dysphoric and maybe think about that aspect when talking about these figures.

anyway this is still more word vomit, not meant to start anything just more rambles hopefully trying to be clearer because i was making two different points that i think got mixed up bc prev post was made on my phone and not edited,

so yeah tldr: was not saying people wouldn't cross dress unless it was genuine trans shit but more i bet some of those women who dressed up as men experienced dysphoria around it and why isn't that part of the discussion? especially when you contrast it with the trans men who would not have felt gender dysphoria about being a guy. and just like, more poking at the topic and how people felt about it.

Sometimes it really jumps out at me that oh wow I am trans and wow cis people really are cis (and trans women really do be women) Because like.

I heard Amanda Bynes had a ton of dysphoria having to dress up and be treated as a boy for she's the man which was like oh wow ok yeah i guess i can see how for someone who is not a guy being treated as one even for an acting role would be dysphoric. And like despite all the failings of that movie middle schooler me saw that movie and was like that is the dream. Pretend to be a boy. Amazing.

And all the movies where the teen girls stuff theirs bras and the "bosoms!" bit from Anne of green gables that I was always just ???? Why would you??? But apparently they really do want bigger chests and are excited for them. That women who get masectomies for cancer get reconstructive surgery to give them their chests back because a flat chest gives them dysphoria.

And like. There was someone at choir who just like vehemently rejected the suggestion of wearing the tux/"men's option" when I mentioned it as an alternative to the dress she didn't like. And like. It was the same reaction I have to the suggestion to wear a dress.

And all the hellish aspects of puberty I went through the transfemme friends excitedly talk about getting and wanting because those are desirable gender affirming things for them.

And just. The whole "the only trans people are trans women" narrative from before I knew there were other options was just yeah I'm with the guys on this one why would someone want to be a woman, (and like, the problem is those guys don't want to be women either so it runs into the same brain wall of can't fathom someone making that choice) but I can totally imagine actually wanting to be a guy. And how like, when approaching the concept with cis people you gotta frame it as them being the gender they are because they don't want to be another one and can find it really hard to imagine wanting to be (aka if you're running into a wall with cis men who are only aware of trans women bring up trans men, because they absolutely get dysphoria of being mistaken for a girl and misgendered as a girl. Like so much of toxic masculinity is weaponised misgendering).

But it's like. Ah yes the fact so many things I find incredibly dysphoric others find gender affirming and the reverse also being true is always just a little world tilting bc oh wow right not everyone hates/loves this gender thing, but also like nice confirmation that if there was any doubt of me being trans that no in fact your experiences are not considered the default normal and that is very much a trans thing.

Also tangent associated thought like. There is a whole "woman dressed as a man and lived as a man for xyz reason but wasn't actually a trans man/masc" which like ok I can accept that there are women who for brief periods dressed as men in order to achieve some goal or something but like... seeing how cis people respond to being miagendered that is causes dysphoria even short term and knowing as a trans person how hellish dysphoria is like... why isn't that an aspect in any of these discussions (and if it is why have i not heard it yet)? Like dressing as and being treated as a gender you are not for years or decades or the entire rest of your life is hell. So why would someone willingly do that? Like obviously we can't ask the historical figures that and we shouldn't say whether or not they experienced dysphoria from dressing either way (unless there's like actual documented proof) but like idk. This kind of just occurred to me and now I'm like. A) the default assumption always seems to be this is a cis woman presending to be a man unless we have explicit proof to the contrary and even then ignore that to say she's a woman but then B) how have I basically never heard any reports on how these "cis women" hated being misgendered (like I'm sure there were some and I would love if we could find these reports bc it would really help highlight the difference between dressing up as a man bc women couldn't xyz and trans man dressed as a man and when found out used the excuse of only pretended to be a man for xyz to avoid being punished for you know being trans)

[tinyvampire]

how the ghosts would react to you coming out as trans

(bc i have bbc ghosts brain rot & i’m up late with good ol trans anxiety) enjoy!!

thomas

he would support the hell out of you, but would definitely be the kind of cis person to make a big dramatic show of it every time he accidentally misgendered or deadnamed you. listen - i love this man, but he is a drama queen. after telling him you’re trans, he would probably make it about him in some way - like maybe he once knew someone who was queer, or he always wanted to write a poem about one of those greek myths that involve trans people but he was too scared to, and etc etc etc. so yeah, he’s a bit of an attention whore, but he would go full ‘damn your eyes’ on anybody who was malicious towards you for your transness, 100%.

julian

with a crass, in poor taste joke, confusion, and then acceptance. basically how julian responds to any semi serious situation. he’d make some awful joke, maybe about cross-dressing, and then after learning more about what being trans actually means he’d come around. i don’t think he’d apologize (does he ever, like fr lol) (love him but 🤨), but he would probably say it makes sense that you’re a man/woman/nb, because of x y z behavior (which is stereotyping, but like at least he has the general idea & he’s trying) and then he’d make a conscious effort to never use your old name again.

fanny

similarly to the way she reacted when the lesbian couple was married at button house. she’d be aghast & outraged for like five minutes, ranting around the house about how true gentlemen/ladies don’t exist anymore in this modern age and etc etc but by the next day or so, she’d sheepishly apologize and ask you some questions about it. from then on she’d be quietly supportive in her own way, like automatically correcting when someone misgenders you & then never bringing up the incident; even when you thank her she’d be like ‘what on earth are you talking about, (chosen name)!’

pat

exactly how any ultra-supportive dad would react. pat would make it his personal mission to affirm your identity & make you feel comfortable and safe regarding your transness. he would also definitely throw you a surprise party in celebration of your coming out, complete with ‘it’s a boy/girl/baby (if you’re nb)’ banners courtesy of alison. he would be so touched that you trusted him with this information & more proud of you than he could ever say in words. (he’d also excitedly tell you facts about 80s queer icons that you already knew, but you’d pretend not to just to humor him.) (‘wow, freddie mercury was bi?! 😮’)

robin

honestly the best to come out to imo. robin’s been around a long time; this has made him incredibly kind & understanding. humanity’s stereotypes & societal pressures are born & die just as fast as people do, and he’d tell you as much (in his own robin way). humanity’s prejudices are much the same & robin has no time for that bullshit. he’d always be there if you needed a shoulder to cry on, and would passionately defend you and your identity should the occasion arise, no matter what.

the captain

instantly eager to assist you in any way possible. “it was very sharp of you to come to me with this. there’s so much to be done. we must change all of your legal documents at once, not to mention the wardrobe issue. hmm..patrick! assemble the troops!” he’d take charge immediately as though the only reason you came out to him was because you couldn’t handle transitioning by yourself & needed someone to be in charge. he accepts you right away too, though, so it’s no bother to you that he’s being his usual bossy, captain-y self. also he’d respond as though an actual crime had been committed if anyone gave you shit for being trans.

kitty

the definition of ‘little confused but got the spirit’. she’d probably think you mean you want to play dress up with her, and she’d be so excited she wouldn’t be able to focus on any explanations being offered by the other ghosts or alison. (& i know the ghosts couldn’t even play dress up if they wanted to, but do you think this fact would stop kitty from trying??? absolutely not) eventually, though, pat would gently explain it to her & she would support you whole-heartedly. (she’d still be totally confused though, bless her)

mary

literally would have no fucking clue what you’re talking about. “what be a transgender?!?” it would take the better part of a day to explain it all to her, but i do think she’d eventually understand, at least better than kitty. she’d probably be worried you’d be burned for it at first, and might even discourage your transition goals because of it, but once you reassured her that times have changed, she’d be happy to support you.

humphrey

i’m headcanoning this headless man as a trans man & no one can stop me. honestly, now that i think about it, humphrey gives off some serious t-boy swag vibes. i feel like you’d tell him you’re trans & he’d be like “ah so that’s what they’re callin it now” & boom, y’all are best friends. i can hear you in the replies now, ‘but they didn’t have access to hrt back then - !’ well pffpffpff, i don’t care. humphrey is trans now. you’re welcome.

[lucy90712]

Sapnap- face cam

Wc- 1987

Warnings- none (I think)  I've been up for almost 30 hours mainly because I was doing college homework all of last night and because my boyfriend Sapnap was streaming and being very loud which kept me up in the first place which was why I did my homework anyway. I love Sapnap to death but sometime he can be a little annoying but I put up with it.

Sapnap only got into bed at 4am and he's still asleep now at 11pm meanwhile since then I've finished a big essay, cleaned the apartment, done another essay and then made breakfast for myself which I'm eating now. I wish I could be this productive when I've had sleep but somehow it never works like that.

Eventually Sapnap came downstairs sauntering because he was still sleepy, some of us wish. He walked right over giving me a hug from behind as I washed some dishes and gave me a kiss on my cheek.

"Morning babe you alright?" He asked

"Yeah I'm good a little tired but I'll live" I replied

"Just to let you know I'll be streaming later" he said

He always tells me when he's streaming because his fans don't know about us and he doesn't want to accidentally reveal anything to protect me which is cute but it gets hard when he streams for hours on end and I need help with something. Sapnap is good about to it though if I really need help I either text him or message him on discord and he'll help but he sometimes doesn't read his messages.

I gave him some of what I made for breakfast and he sat down to eat it while I talked at him about college work that he pretends to care about. He's very supportive of all my college work and he'll let me get on with things if I have to but he will also talk about things with me if I want to. Thats one of the best things about Sapnap is his ability to adapt to how I'm feeling at any given moment and I like to think I'm at least ok at doing the same for him.

After breakfast Sapnap cleaned the rest of the dishes and let me take a shower which was nice and relaxing and woke me up a little bit as the cold water at the start hit my back, usually I would not be under the water as it warmed up but today I felt like I needed a shock to my system to get it going for another day. I had more homework and a lecture to do today so there was no chance for a nap until the evening when it's kind of pointless anyway.

After my shower I got dressed into some sweatpants and a t-shirt because it was comfy for sitting down all day in. Sapnap had got my laptop ready for me and had got me a glass for water which was sweet of him. My lecture was in about 2 minutes so I logged onto the class ready for it to start, when it did I put my headphones on so that Sapnap didn't have to listen to my teacher going on about whatever we were doing today, he always says he doesn't care but even I don't want to listen to it sometimes so there is no way he does.

As I tapped away making notes Sapnap put his hand on my knee rubbing his thumb in circles comfortingly. He does this all the time whether its sat on the sofa like right now or while we're driving somewhere but its safe to say that I love it, it lets me know he's there in a weird way it's like he's acknowledging my presence. At one point he got up and went to the kitchen and when he came back he had my favourite snack which he put between us so that we could share. What a lovely boyfriend he's being today, I'm starting to wonder what he thinks he's done that's he's trying to make up for.

My lecture finally finished after what seemed like and age so I went to get straight on with my last essay that needed submitting by the end of the month but Sapnap shut my laptop before I could get the document open, he grabbed my hand and pulled me up from the sofa and towards the door.

"Come on were going out for a walk" he said

"Why, I have an essay to work on" I whined

"You'll never leave the house if I don't drag you out so come on" he said handing me my shoes

I put them on and grabbed a jacket because according to the weather it was meant to be a little bit chilly out today, Sapnap grabbed the house keys and pushed me out the door onto the street. We don't often go out on walks because neither of us like leaving the house that much if we were to go out it would most likely be in the car to just go for a drive.

The two of us walked down the street holding hands and swinging them back and forth as we took steps forwards. Sapnap clearly had a good idea of where he wanted to go because he was making turns all over the place. Eventually we ended up at the target not that far from our place and we went in looking at everything like you do in target and we topped up on some snacks for a movie night soon.

We left with our snacks and Sapnap dragged me to the nearest park so we could sit outside and get a bit more fresh air. The nearest park is actually the one that we went to on one of our first dates so we have good memories there, on one of the benches by the duck pond is where we had our first kiss and many more after that.

I always love going back to that park with Sapnap because each time we reminisce on the past and talk about the future which seems to change each time we come here. We walked to the exact bench that we had our first kiss on and sat down looking at the scenery. It had changed quite a bit since the first time we were here, there used to be a little play park for kids in the distance but now thats gone and is replaced with a small flower garden instead.

The first time we came here and we talked about the future all we wanted was to still be together after we left for college which of course happened, then the next time we wanted to move in together which we did and now. I'm not really sure what the future holds for us but I'm sure it will be interesting.

"Wow its been so long since we came here we have changed so much and achieved everything that we wanted to" he said

"I know its so weird to think that our last goal was to move in together and now we have been living together for 5 months where do you think we will end up in the future?" I asked

"On man I have no idea but I would love to still be living together and maybe in a bigger place and maybe even be engaged" he said

This shocked me I never expected him to say that but I guess that is the next logical step for us to take in our relationship.

"I like the sound of that" I said  

We went back home and Sapnap went to stream while I worked on my essay he didn't tell me how long he was going to stream for but it will probably be about 3 hours. So I sat down and got on with writing the last 15 pages of my essay which would probably take me the entire time he was streaming maybe longer.

My essay took me almost exactly 4 hours to do but when I tried to submit it it wouldn't upload which happens from time to time. I looked at the upload speed of the WiFi since Sapnap taught me how to do it and it was fine but I assumed that it was being used for something else. This problem has happened before when Sapnap is uploading a video so I assumed that was the issue.

It got up and walked to Sapnap’s streaming room waiting outside for a moment to double check that he wasn't still streaming, I waited a couple minutes and heard nothing so I knocked and went in.

As soon as I went in I saw that Sapnap was still streaming and his face cam was on which meant that I was now on his stream in front of however many people. I've never made such a stupid mistake especially one that outs my entire relationship, I just stood in shock not being able to move and get out of the shot. Sapnap had the exact same reaction his face was filled with shock and fear at the same time.

Nothing prepares you for the moment that you expose yourself live in front of probably 100,000 people or more who will record anything that happens. Nothing prepares you for the chaos that will ensue when you do the before mentioned thing and definitely nothing prepares you for the guilt you feel doing so.

"Um hi y/n" He said trying to make things less awkward

"Hey" I replied shyly

He motioned for me to come over because there was no point trying to hide this anymore since no one will believe anything we say now. I stood next to Sapnap luckily being short enough that I still fit in frame but he had obviously given up caring at this point because he pulled me down into his lap to sit while we talked to his chat. Again he did the thing where he rubs his thumb in a circle on my leg and this time it really was for comfort.

"Well chat this is y/n and shes my... girlfriend" he said

"Hi everyone" I said shyly

"Now chat I'm going to need you to be nice to her or I'll be angry because she is very precious to me" he said

His chat were going insane telling others to clip this and people getting way to excited about all of this and some were asking questions. The whole chat was going so incredibly fast that it was hard to read all the messages.

We answered some of the basic questions like how long we have been together and other things, people also asked if George and Dream knew which of course they did and they have made jokes about Sapnap having a girlfriend but no one ever took it too seriously. At one point dream joined the call and started mocking us for being stupid and exposing ourselves and he told some stories that he knew we wouldn't mind him saying which the chat enjoyed.

I started yawning more and more as I stayed on the stream because I wasn't keeping my mind busy my tiredness was taking over. I leant back into Sapnap to rest my head on his shoulder, he out his hand on my head running it through my hair which is very relaxing.

"Are you tired?" He asked

"No I'm fine I can stay awake" I said

"I don't want to hear it I know you've been awake for over 24 hours so you are going to sleep" he almost demanded

He put his arms around my waist and pulled me into a comfortable position where I closed my eyes and fell asleep almost right away forgetting that Sapnap was still streaming but it doesn't matter.

[robininthelabyrinth]

First time submitting prompts, fairly new follower. Love your writing!

NHS and LWJ friendship. Subtle and maybe people other than their big brothers don't see it and it shocks people when they find out. Mostly Canon compliant?

Associates - Part 3 - ao3, pt 1, pt 2

In the end, it was Lan Wangji who went to get Wei Wuxian, rather than wait patiently for him to return of his own free will as he had originally intended.

It had been Nie Huaisang’s idea, after nearly a year of Wei Wuxian travelling – they’d never actually pursued the jealousy idea he’d initially suggested on account of it being a terrible idea, Lan Wangji’s temporary moment of insanity in even considering it aside. It had come up seemingly apropos of nothing, one day when the two of them were working together in Lan Wangji’s study, Lan Wangji filling out the paperwork in his graceful handwriting as Nie Huaisang flittered around solving problems – he preferred pacing as he thought, which perhaps explained his reluctance to work on documents despite his beautiful calligraphy, and all the marching around made him, in some moments, look remarkably like his elder brother, something Lan Wangji deliberately refrained from ever mentioning.

“You need to go pick him up,” Nie Huaisang had suddenly said, in between planning out the next discussion conference and explaining why a seemingly minor dispute regarding shifting the boundary line near the Yuncheng Bao sect by a single li could have catastrophic consequences for the Jin sect’s long-term stability. “I know you’re afraid of giving the impression that you’re trapping him and restraining his freedom, but that’s your problem, not his. He wants to be asked.”

“Does he?” Lan Wangji had asked, finishing the sentence he was on and putting down the brush. Some things took priority above night-fishing rights near a contained Waterborne Abyss, no matter the new head of the Laoling Qin sect might think.

“Mm, yes. He’s been taking a lot of night hunts in the immediate vicinity of Gusu, close but never too close…Lan Zhan, he’s hinting that he wants you to chase him.”

“Pride?”

“A bit, maybe? Mostly I think it was his position in Yunmeng Jiang, where the former Sect Leader Jiang wanted him and Madame Yu didn’t, so his status was always that slightest bit uncertain. Here and now, he wants to know that he’s really welcome…don’t give me that look! He knows he’s welcome, you’ve made that clear, but making you be the one to ask is just another way to ensure that it’s actually true.”

And so Lan Wangji had gone to where he’d heard that Wei Wuxian was night-hunting, flying down on Bichen when he saw him walking with Lil’ Apple along a mountain path – he called his name, and Wei Wuxian had turned and smiled…

Wei Wuxian had come back with him.

More than that – he’d kissed him, he’d said he was staying with him, he’d agreed to marry him, to live their life together from then on.

They were officially engaged now, the auspicious date having been selected, Jiang Cheng and Jin Ling having demanded roles on the side of the bride – Wei Wuxian briefly protested being the bride, then realized that he was marrying into the Lan sect and promptly reversed course, announcing that he wanted all the trappings of being a bride, excluding the dress – and life was very, very good.

Unfortunately, a couple of weeks was about as long as the cultivation world could hold off on needing its Chief Cultivator to be more than part time – he’d done a lot of the work in the mornings while Wei Wuxian was still asleep or when he was busy, and of course he had the system of delegation that Nie Huaisang had constructed for him and naturally Nie Huaisang himself helping out through his letters – and regretfully, Lan Wangji had had to return his full focus to his duties.

At first, it didn’t mark that much of a change: Wei Wuxian would bring projects of his own and they would work side by side, Lan Wangji already accustomed to the presence of another through all the work he’d done with Nie Huaisang, and Lan Wangji insisted that Wei Wuxian go out regularly with the juniors for night-hunts even if he himself could not. It all seemed fine, except only that Lan Wangji had the distinct feeling that he was missing something important.

It was only when the first big issue came up – a serious dispute between two small sects – that Lan Wangji realized what that was.

He sent a message to the Unclean Realm and waited.

Nie Huaisang arrived at the Cloud Recesses at the exact time one might expect if Nie Huaisang had received the message and left at once at top speed, accounting for the relatively slow pace he had when flying as a result of his mediocre cultivation.

Letter still crushed in his hand, he swept into the jingshi in his usual manner, all high drama and flash, wailing, “Lan Zhan! You betrayed me! You, of all people! My oldest friend!”

Lan Wangji, who had been expecting this, rolled his eyes.

Wei Wuxian, sitting in the desk he’d claimed as his own, looked up, startled. “Nie Huaisang?”

“Oh, hi, Wei Wuxian, congratulations on your engagement, has Lan Zhan shown you the present I sent? Probably not, he never does – Lan Zhan! Don’t think I’m letting you distract me with Wei Wuxian! You answer for this right away!”

He waved the crumbled letter at Lan Wangji.

“There is nothing to explain,” Lan Wangji said. “I requested your assistance in my capacity as Chief Cultivator.”

“You called me a spineless, gutless coward!”

Wei Wuxian made a choking sound.

“I sought to accurately characterize your recent behavior,” Lan Wangji said, and noted that Wei Wuxian’s choking noises got worse, although he did not actually appear to be in need of air. “Do you object?”

(There was something about Nie Huaisang’s company that reminded Lan Wangji irresistibly of being a child again, he had found, and it was only recently that he had begun to remember that as a child he had once had a tendency to bite. A pleasant rediscovery, even if the sharpness of his teeth were now expressed via paper and ink rather than through physical attacks.)

“You were the one who took a month off,” Nie Huaisang complained, a blatant lie given that Lan Wangji had been on partial duty for no more than two weeks, but dropped into his usual place at Lan Wangji’s side obediently enough. “Lan Zhaaaaaaan, don’t make me do work –”

Lan Wangji was going to say something about how it wasn’t like Nie Huaisang was doing any less work by doing his part in the Unclean Realm rather than being physically present in Gusu for consultations, he was just doing it less efficiently, but that was when Wei Wuxian coughed into his hand.

“Sect Leader Nie,” he said, with too much formality, but Nie Huaisang waved his hands at him querulously, clearly disapproving, and his shoulders relaxed a little. “Ah – Nie Huaisang. Since when do you call Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan? I thought you called him Lan-er-gongzi?”

“Oh, no, it’s been Lan Zhan since I was – what, seven or so?” Nie Huaisang said. “I wasn’t joking about him being my oldest friend, you know. We were just fighting back then, when you came for the lectures.”

Wei Wuxian blinked rapidly and turned to look at Lan Wangji, who nodded in confirmation.

They’d failed each other rather thoroughly back then, neither one being there for the other when they could have been. Nie Huaisang had not been wrong to observed that simply because he had always been free and open with his affections, Lan Wangji had assumed they would always be there to be resumed at a later time, without any need for maintenance – playing hot and cold, offering and receiving comfort and support at certain times, totally distant at others…it wasn’t until much later, when Lan Wangji emerged from seclusion, that he had needed Nie Huaisang again, and realized what he’d lost in the blank and disinterested glance of the boy he’d once thought of as his friend, who now seemed to visit the Cloud Recesses only in search of his elder brother.

They’d spoken in those intervening years, but it had always been light, superficial. Lan Wangji could have reached out a hand at that time, sought to resume their relationship, but he was consumed with his own grief, his own troubles, and out of respect for the face of his sect he had refused to share them; perhaps if he had, Nie Huaisang wouldn’t have done what he had done, would have relied upon him instead.

Perhaps things would have been very different.

It wasn’t until he’d finally swallowed his pride to ask Nie Huaisang for help with the overwhelming work of being Lan sect leader and Chief Cultivator both that they had broken through that distance once more. It had been difficult at first, readjusting their long-lost patterns to their adult behaviors, but they had slowly but surely fallen into a comfortable dynamic that suited them both.

“I had no idea,” Wei Wuxian said blankly. “You spend much time together?”

“Nie-xiong assists me in my duties,” Lan Wangji interjected before Nie Huaisang could spout something stupid about eloping, as he was sometimes wont to do. “He has been critical in ensuring that I am not overwhelmed.”

Wei Wuxian mouthed ‘Nie-xiong’, but what he said was, “You, Lan Zhan? Overwhelmed?”

Lan Wangji nodded. “My brother went into seclusion,” he explained. “As sect heir, I became responsible for the duties of sect leader of the Lan sect, and I had also accepted the post of Chief Cultivator.”

“And he didn’t have anyone else to help, so he came to me,” Nie Huaisang said cheerfully, ignoring how Wei Wuxian’s eye twitched. “I hope you don’t mind. It was very convenient a trade: I know plenty of things about being a sect leader – more than you’d think, I swear! – and Lan Wangji, as Chief Cultivator, can help me whenever someone tries to make something out of that awful business last year.”

There had been a few unfortunate sequelae to those events. Nie Huaisang’s role had never been officially confirmed, but somehow word had gotten out regardless and sects throughout the cultivation world were looking at Nie Huaisang in suspicion – less out of concern for Jin Guangyao, although there were a few that had especially benefited from his rule that were disappointed, than with an eye towards the future. The wise ones were afraid of his patience and planning, but far more were simply greedy, looking for a chance to finally uproot the notorious Headshaker now that his best protection, his brother’s two sworn brothers, were not there to defend him.

As he had promised, Lan Wangji had defied any attempts by others to do anything of that sort.

As he had promised, he would not change his mind or withdraw his support, no matter what Wei Wuxian said.

His shoulders tensed as Wei Wuxian looked over at him, his expression thoughtful. “I’m going to need to talk to Jiang Cheng,” he remarked, seemingly unrelatedly, and then said, “Well, I trust Lan Zhan’s judgment.”

Nie Huaisang had covered his face with his fan and was looking over it at Wei Wuxian. “You do? And here I thought you didn’t associate with evil…”

“Those are from Lan Zhan’s sect rules, not mine,” Wei Wuxian declared. “If he doesn’t judge you to be evil, who am I to say otherwise?”

Nie Huaisang smiled.

“We should talk more, sometime,” Wei Wuxian continued. “And hey, Nie-xiong, I don’t know if you still collect those books –”

“Oh, of course, Wei-xiong!” Nie Huaisang said enthusiastically. “Though you don’t need to ask for them from me. Lan Zhan’s built up quite a collection over the years.”

Lan Wangji sighed, even as Wei Wuxian spun to look at him with a predatory look in his eyes, not unlike a sighthound that had just fixed on its prey. “You do?”

“Nie-xiong has gifted me with many art pieces over the years,” Lan Wangji admitted. His ears felt as though they were on fire; they were undoubtedly red. “You may peruse them at your leisure.”

“At our leisure,” Wei Wuxian murmured, his eyes deeply intent. “I can’t wait to see what spring books you like best, Lan Zhan.”

Lan Wangji averted his eyes, feeling hot.

Nie Huaisang giggled and snapped his fan shut. “You don’t want to see the art I sent, Wei-xiong, trust me,” he cackled. “You want to see the pieces. Just ask!”

Wei Wuxian grinned and shook his head. “I think that’s a private discussion! Anyway, I’m going to go talk to Jiang Cheng – you two work on your Chief Cultivator stuff.”

“Your insight would be welcome,” Lan Wangji said, but Wei Wuxian waved a casual hand.

“Later, later,” he said breezily. “I don’t know either of those sects, I couldn’t possibly say anything intelligent – maybe next time you have a question. I look forward to working with you, Nie-xiong.”

“The feeling is mutual.”

Lan Wangji watched them smile at each other – still a little wary, but both clearly willing to attempt a renewal of their own friendship, even after everything – and his heart felt light.

The only thing, he reflected, that would make this perfect would be if Lan Xichen came out of seclusion.

But with Lan Wangji, Wei Wuxian, and Nie Huaisang on the job, they’d be sure to figure out a way to do that soon enough.

He was sure of it.

[bqstqnbruin]

I hate it when you’re not around, and the fact that you didn’t call

OK so here we are with the penultimate part! BIG MASSIVE THANK YOU to the absolute loves of my life @pucksnsticksnhockeyboys​ and @fratboytj​ for helping me write this because I am a dumpster fire of a human and this would still be unfinished had it not been for them 💛💛💛

Hope you like it!

Read the whole series:  I hate the way you talk to me and the way you cut your hair // I hate the way you drive my car // I hate it when you stare // I hate your big dumb combat boots and the way you read my mind // I hate you so much it makes me sick, it even makes me rhyme // I hate the way you’re always right // I hate it when you lie // I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry // I hate it when you’re not around, and the fact that you didn’t call // But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you, not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all

---------

“This right here is our issue!” 

“I don’t care. You need to leave.”

---------------

You and Evelina were leaving for Los Angeles the next day, the presentation not quite done yet as your boss bombarded both of you with texts asking for updates while you were just trying to relax at home after what had been a stressful week of work. The two of you had turned into gremlins as soon as you came home, hair tied back, sweatshirts on, hoods up, facing each other while sitting cross-legged on your living room floor, typing faster than you probably needed to every time your boss sent a new suggestion. 

“Does he really think adding in a transition between these two slides is going to do anything? Like, there are no other animations in the entire presentation, why these two slides?” you huff, pushing the fly-away hair out of your face as you look to Evelina, hunched over her laptop with her computer screen illuminating her face.

Your phones continue buzzing as you try to put the finishing touches on your laptops. “Whatever this man is smoking, I need some to deal with him,” Evelina mutters. You look up from your computer, questioning the statement that just came out of her mouth. “What?” she asks, “Don’t act like you wouldn’t, too.”

“I’m texting him and telling him we’re going to stop for the night and talk with him in person about it tomorrow at the airport and on plane,” you tell her, setting your computer down next to you. You lay down on the floor, stretching your body out with your hands over your head, your toes pointed, groaning so loud you practically scream as your phone lays silently next to you. 

“Have you heard from Matthew?” Evelina asks, breaking the silence that was normally broken by texts from him. 

You shake your head, sitting up again. “Not a word.”

“Have you tried to talk to him?”

You take in a deep breath, closing your eyes as you pick up your laptop again. “Nope. Nothing posted on our stories on Instagram or Snapchat in a week, no texts, no calls, no Facetimes, our streak gone on Snap. We’re both radio silent,” you start, trying to fight back the tears that you knew were coming. This was for the best, maybe. You didn’t need to be preoccupied with the idea of liking someone that was just going to hurt you. He was only meant to be your friend. Your best friend. 

“I’m sorry, babe,” she says, turning her head. A small piece of paper under your couch catches her eye, stretching to see what it was. “What is this? ‘For Ev and Hg’ Who’s Hg?”

“I think that’s me,” you say, reaching for the card, Matthew’s messy writing scrawled across the small paper. It must have fallen off the box that had the jerseys in it, you figure. 

“That’s not right,” she says, pulling a laugh from you.

“Matthew calls me that: Hg is the chemical symbol for mercury, coming from hydrargyrum, the Latinized form of the Greek word hydrargyros, which means water-silver. Mercury stops oxygen from reaching the brain and it drives you crazy. He’s saying that I drive him crazy,” you explain, a sad smile on your face as you play with the card, curling the corners of it slightly just so you had something to do.

“That is surprisingly smart and cute for him,” Evelina gushes, a sudden wave of sadness washing over her. “I think this is my fault,” she admits.

“What?”

“Matthew not talking to you. Matthew knowing about the list.” You stare at her, not sure what to say. What was she talking about? “I told him about it the night you started it.”

“What the fuck?” you scream, “That’s the reason we had this whole fight in the first place. That’s why we aren’t talking right now. Ev, you ruined my friendship with Matthew!” 

“You’ll get through it,” she tries to reassure you, unable to look at you. “Couples fight all the time.” 

“We were not a couple!” you yell, standing up. “And now, because of you, we never will be.” 

“Is that what you wanted?” she yells back, getting up with you as if you were about to start physically fighting. “Do you want to be a couple? Or do you just want him to be your friend? I don’t care anymore, but until you figure out what the fuck you want, you can’t fix this.”

You look down at your feet, wiggling your toes in the socks you had on. “You’re right,” you admit to her, trying to stay as calm as you could. “But why did you have to tell him about that list? What do you think it’s like to find out that someone you care about has been keeping something like this from you?” You stand there quietly for a minute, neither of you sure what to say to the other. “I’m going to go to my room,” you say, finally breaking the silence, “Just, don’t bother me for a little bit, ok?” You don’t let her answer, picking up your computer from the floor and retreating to your room to lock yourself in for the time being. 

Evelina sits down on the floor, trying to figure out what she can do. This was her fault. Or was it yours? She had suggested the list, but you were the one who went along with it. She made the bet, but you wouldn’t drop it. She wanted you to be with Matthew, but you have been fighting it no matter what everyone else tells you. 

She shakes her head, picking up her computer, a reminder from her calendar coming up in the top corner: Flames @ Kings, 7:00 p.m. Friday. Staples Center. With all this bullshit, would you even still want to go to the game? Evelina pulls up her phone, hearing loud music coming from your room, thankful that you wouldn’t be able to hear her conversation. 

“I can see on her Spotify that she’s playing the playlist we entitled “depressed bitch” when she broke up with her last boyfriend and I can’t stand to see her like this. Why did you have to bring up the list?” Evelina barks into her phone.

“Why did you have to have Y/N start the list in the first place?” Matthew’s voice comes through on the other end. “With no list, then we wouldn’t be in this fucked up mess in the first place. You’re the reason I’m not talking to her.” 

She knew he was taking his anger out on her. And he’s right, as much as she hated to admit it. “I know it’s my fault,” she says, begrudgingly, “which is why I’m trying to fix this. She cried for five hours after you left last week. She did not sleep for two days and I think the only reason she did was because our boss is an exhausting jackass. It’s because of you and me, and she’s made her peace with me as far as I can tell. I need you back in the picture.”

“Why?”

“Matthew,” Evelina groans, hating that she had to explain her reasoning to him, “you’re good for her. You’re good to her. You listen to her. You hear her. From the moment you met her, you were absolutely infatuated with her.”

“Yeah.”

“So why haven’t you talked to her in a week?”   

She hears him let out a deep sigh, swearing she could hear him sniffle as if he were crying. “Because I’m in love with her. I love Y/N. And I know that the more I try to pull her back to me, the harder she’s going to push away.” 

“Why do you love her?” Evelina asks, grabbing her computer, an idea popping into her head as she balances her phone between her shoulder and her ear, pulling up a blank document. 

He scoffs, starting, “Her way of relaxing herself is by ranting about obscure facts that no sane person would actually care enough to read, let alone commit to memory. And she absolutely lights up when she tells you this stuff. She has this, this soft smile that still somehow reaches her eyes when she’s talking. At the end of her rant she makes that face where she scrunches her nose because she thinks it’s embarrassing that she just spewed all those facts to you.” 

“Keep going,” Evelina instructs him, her fingers flying over her keyboard as he talks.

“Are you typing?” 

“I’m working on...work. Keep going, I’m listening,” she says fast, hoping that he wouldn’t question her.

“I like how she dresses, and I know you think she doesn’t have good style but hear me out: she dresses how she’s comfortable. She doesn’t dress up often because it’s not something she wants to do so it’s not something she does do. But, fuck, when I see her dressed up in the slightest, she looks beautiful. She looks great in anything she wears.” 

Evelina couldn’t help but smile as she continued to type, not even needing to egg Matthew on to keep spilling his guts to her, his voice getting more confident with everything he listed. “Have you ever noticed how she doesn’t hold a pen correctly? What was it, her grandmother taught her to write outside of school so when she went to school and already knew her teachers saw that so they didn’t focus on her and catch that she was holding it wrong? So now she’s constantly playing with it to distract herself from that fact, which makes no sense, but whatever. And she has ink all over her hands all the time because she keeps twirling it between her fingers and dropping it.”

“She’ll joke that it’s ‘abstract art.’” Evelina cuts in, both of them laughing.

“Come on, even you love that. She’s so stubborn. Once she gets any idea in her head, she won’t give it up because she knows she’s right. It drives me crazy.”

“Mercury,” Evelina mutters. 

“What was that?”

“We found the card that you wrote with the jerseys,” she explains, peeling her shoulder away from her face and holding the phone with her hand for a moment, “You call her Mercury because she drives you crazy.” 

Matthew stays silent for a moment, forgetting that you were supposed to see him in Los Angeles against the Kings that Friday. “Are you still coming to that?” 

“You mean is she still coming with me?” He doesn’t answer again, leaving Evelina to fill the empty space in the conversation. “I’m going to try to get her there. I want her there. And I know she wants to be there, too.” 

“I remember the night we met,” Matthew says, changing subjects, not wanting to think about the possibility of not seeing you at that game, “it was just a normal night out with the guys and then two girls who we hadn’t seen before walked in. And normally we wouldn’t think anything of it, but,” he exhales, “I don’t know. The entire energy of the bar changed. All of us felt it. And then the two of you walked up to us. You were fucking annoying,” he jokes, earning a scoff from Evelina.

“Watch yourself Tkachuk, don’t make me mad right now.”

Rolling his eyes, even though he knew she couldn't see him, he continues, “The guys loved you immediately, it was like you had known them for years the way you fit in. But then there was Y/N. She’s your exact opposite: you were this loud force of nature but she was quiet. There was just something about her that I had to get to know her. I knew she was different around people she’s comfortable with and I just had to be one of those people. Couldn’t even tell you why.”

Matthew keeps talking, Evelina typing as he keeps telling her about his feelings. In a lull in your music, you can hear her laugh from your room, thinking to yourself that you were glad at least one of you was having fun with whatever it was they were doing. You finally sit up, having been sprawled on your back on your bed staring at your ceiling trying to think of something, anything that wasn’t Matthew. You look around your room, trying to ground yourself from the pain you felt from not hearing from him, not wanting to reach out to him to begin with. You see your computer on your dresser, forgetting that you put it there once you got to your room, getting up to put something on from Hulu. 

Out of the corner of your eye, in the reflection of your mirror, you see a black sleeve sticking out from the rest of the clothing that was hanging on the back of your door. You put your computer on your desk, flipping through the clothing to see what it was. You pull it off whatever hanger it was on, a wool winter pea coat, definitely not yours. 

Because it was Matthew’s. When you first met him, you were so comfortable around each other. You could go over his place with ease, not feeling awkward when you fell asleep on his shoulder while watching a movie, feeling completely normal when you woke up the next morning and used his bathroom as if it were your own, eventually keeping some stuff there for when you did stay over, no matter how little use it served you the night after the charity event. 

He was the same at your place. He has stuff around your room everywhere, you never really blinking an eye at the pair of his sweatpants and the tshirt that were somewhere in your drawers for when he slept over. Not even a year ago, he left in the sweatshirt, the coat he wore the night before left on the couch without you realizing it, making its home on the back of your door only to get shuffled right up against the wood as you hung more and more clothing in front of it. 

You walk over to your bed, not taking your eyes off the coat. You sit down on your bed, hearing some sort of jingling sound from somewhere in the coat. Digging through the pockets, you can feel something metal in the front right one, a piece of paper poorly folded around it. Should you be going through the pockets of someone else's coat? 

Who cared at this point? You take out the contents of the pocket: a key and a receipt. Your heart was racing, having a feeling about what both of these things meant. The receipt was dated the night you went out to the bar when you moved to Calgary, the night you met Matthew and the rest of the boys. Matthew’s name was on the bottom signaling that it was his, a few drinks circled by who you assumed was him. 

Those were the drinks he bought for you that night, the drinks he would always ask you if you wanted befor you could get a word in first, ‘vodka sour = lemon,’ and something else you couldn’t quite make out written on the side. The next time you were out with them, a vodka sour was the drink he bought you because you told him you liked lemon but hadn’t found a drink that you liked with it in it. That was the drink he bought you the night of the charity event. 

On the back of the receipt, again in Matthew’s handwriting, ‘my home is your home, Y/N.’ In your hand was a key, with a lemon charm hanging off of it. 

It was a key to his apartment. 

You couldn’t begin to fathom the emotions that washed over you in that moment, knowing that he was going to give you his key, probably before you even thought of giving him one for your place. Fuck, you didn’t even give him one, Evelina did. You didn’t even think about it, and there he was, a key for you, planned out, thoughtful, meaningful. You felt like crying because of sweet it was. 

You pick up your phone, pulling up Matthew’s contact to call him. Your finger hovers over the button. All you had to do was press the button, and you would talk to him for the first time in a week. Before you can tell yourself no, you hit the button, a picture of the two of you coming up on your screen, ‘Matthew, calling,’ rolling over your phone in bold white text.

You didn’t even know what you were going to say, holding the phone to your ear. Actually, you knew what you wanted to say, hearing the phone ring, and ring, and ring. It wouldn’t stop ringing. 

It was a sign. One that you shouldn’t be calling him, hanging up immediately and blocking his number so that he can’t try to call you back. If you were meant to be with him, then he would have answered when you wanted to talk to him most. He would have called you first.

Every emotion you felt turned into anger. You wanted him to call you. You wanted him to be there for you, because if this were happening with another guy, Matthew would be the one sitting there on the bed with you talking you down when this hypothetical man didn’t answer. 

“Mother fucker!” you scream, throwing the key against your door, letting it drop to the ground, wishing it was smashed. 

Evelina hears you, hoping that the conversation with Matthew would end soon so that she can go check on you when he says, “What about how she’s always so quick with her chirps? I have never met someone who’s so fast with a comeback. She’s better than any guy in the NHL. Better than anyone,” Matthew says, still on the phone with Evelina, his voice getting quiet. “Better than anyone,” he repeats himself. 

“I’ve known Y/N’s last two boyfriends and between her and Thomas recounting the high school boyfriend, I feel like I knew the third,” she says, partially regretting bringing up Thomas’s name, “You really love her?” 

“Haven’t I said that already?” he snaps.

“Yes, but I want you to say it again. She is my best friend and has had plenty of people say that they are in love with her. You’re the first one she’s been in love with back, though.”

Matthew’s breath hitches at those words. If Evelina was saying it about you, then it had to be true he figured. “Of course I do.” 

“Ok,” is all Evelina can say, leaving the two of them in silence for a few seconds. 

“Uh, bye, I guess,” Matthew says, hoping the awkward silence that fell between them would end. 

“I’ll text you later about something. Bye,” Evelina hangs up the phone, letting out a long sigh before getting off the floor. Wandering to your room, she knocks on your door, waiting for any sign of life from you to tell her she could come in. “What is this?” she asks after stepping on the key, handing it back to you, plopping herself down on your bed.. 

“Matthew was going to give me a key to his apartment,” you tell her, waving it around in the air. 

“When?” You shrug, honestly not sure how long ago the coat was left there, not sure how long it had been in his pocket in the first place. “I need to ask you something,” she says.

Not really paying attention, that stupid key in your hand, you answer her anyway, “What?”

“Do you like him?”

“Him who?”

Evelina rolls her eyes at you, telling you who even though she really didn’t need to. “Matthew.” 

“Of course I do. He’s my best friend besides you.” 

“Do you love him?” 

“Why hasn’t he called?” you ask, quietly, her instead.

Evelina sighs, “He probably wants to give you space,” she tells you, even though she knows the real answer. “He just wants you to go to him when you’re ready. You know he would never push you to do something you don’t want to.” 

The two of you sit there in silence for a moment, neither of you sure what to say. Would Matthew want you to reach out first? If he did, why didn’t he answer the phone just now?  “Y/N,” Evelina presses, you knowing that she wanted you to respond to the question you intentionally left unanswered. 

You pick up the receipt that was beside you, the key still in your hand, wondering how he could have thought yo give you the key before you even thought about it yourself. And why did he never give it to you? “Ev. I said no. He’s just like Thomas. He loves me and I don’t feel the same way, and I’ve lost him just like I lost Thomas,” you insist. 

“You didn’t lose him,” she tries to reassure you. “This is going to work out.”

“How do you know that, Ev? He means everything to me. You and him are the two people outside of my family that I care the most about. What does it say about our friendship that we get into some stupid fight and now we don’t talk for a week?”

“Y/N,” she lets out a small laugh, “He loves you.”

You shake your head, swallowing hard as you turn the key over in your hand for what felt like the thousandth time. “If he did he would be here right now. He would have called, he would have done something to show me that he cared about me.” 

“Y/N,” she tries.

“No, Ev. Can we just drop it?” you beg, reaching over to your nightstand and throwing the key and receipt in the drawer. “We have to work on our presentation, we leave tomorrow, and we still need to finish packing.” 

The rest of the night was spent by the two of you not saying more than monosyllabic sentences to each other while you worked on the finishing touches of your presentation, packing the last of what you needed for the trip and triing to get your mind off Matthew. You zip your bag up, satisfied that you were finished when you see the jersey Matthew gave you sitting there on your floor, in a pile of other clothing you meant to put away. 

You pick it up, like you did the jacket that was now sitting on the couch, a note laying on top of it for Evelina to give it back to Matthew. Sighing, you fold up the jersey, leaving your room to go put it with the coat. You didn’t want it. You had no need for it. All you could do was let it go. 

You couldn’t sleep the night, any time you closed your eyes and managed to doze off, Matthew’s image flashed through your mind. Every single memory you had with him seemed to be manifesting themselves in your dreams, unable to shake him no matter what you did.The nights you spent together on the couch watching whatever was on TV, teaching him to make your favorite cookies, even though he burned them to a crisp no matter how many times he would check the oven, the two of you going Christmas shopping for your families, buying each other the dumbest gifts you could find to see who you laugh harder. Not a single bad memory came up, besides the last time you saw him. Was everything with Matthew actually that perfect? Or were you blocking things out? 

Your alarm goes off but you were already awake for it, groaning loudly prompting Evelina to come running to your room. “Are you ok?” she asks in a panic. “Babe, did you sleep at all last night?” 

You didn’t even want to know how awful you looked, just hoping that you would be able to cover it up with makeup and get some semblance of sleep while on the plane even if it were only a three hour flight. “Maybe an hour?” you guess, even though you were sure that was an over exaggeration. “Whatever. We have to go get ready.” You get out of your bed and storm to the bathroom, closing the door before Evelina could even say anything. 

You looked like you had been hit by a truck, hating how you came across as you stared at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes were red, the bags underneath them so rich in color they could probably be designer, your skin discolored like you were sick. You would need makeup and a miracle to fix yourself at this point. 

“Y/N?” Evelina says, opening the door without you inviting her in. “I found the coat and jersey.” You make eye contact with her through the mirror, pursing your lips and nodding as you get back to putting on your makeup. “You really don’t want them?” You shake your head, swallowing hard. If you kept them, then they would tempt you to go back to him. Getting rid of them was the only thing you could do. “I put them in my room for now, ok?” You nod again, still not saying a word. 

“I’m worried about you,” Evelina says. “Even with those other guys you’ve broken up with, they have never left you this broken.” 

“I’m over it. I’m just tired.” 

“We both know you’re lying about this. You know how you feel. You know that you’re in love with him, you always have been.”

You put your makeup down on the counter, staring at the powder in it’s container. “I can’t say it.” 

Evelina takes a step back. “What?” she asks, surprised by your response. 

“Thomas said he loved me, and that was it. The friendship was over and we haven’t seen him in years. If I say it to Matthew, if I admit it at all, then it’s going to be done. It already is done and I never said it.” 

Evelina could feel her heart breaking, trying everything she could not to start crying in front of you, worrying that it would set you off as well. “You know that’s not true.” 

“I do in my head, but not in my heart,” you say, letting out a laugh, “That sounds like something from a stupid Hallmark movie.” Evelina lets out a small laugh with you as you continue. “Can we just drop it this weekend? We just have to get through this conference. And get through a weekend with our boss.” 

“Ok. I’m gonna go finish getting ready, then,” Evelina says, backing out of the bathroom. 

By the time both of you are finished getting ready, your boss had texted you that you needed to be outside waiting for him in the next ten minutes when they pulled up with the car that all of you were taking. “Ok, last check. Boarding passes?” you start your list.

“Mine is the front pocket of my bag, yours are in the folder you have with your computer.”

“Passport?”

“Same places as the boarding passes for both of us.”

“Computers?”

“Side pocket of your bag, middle of my bag.”

“Chargers?” 

“Somewhere in my bag I have a phone charger and a computer charger for both of us.” 

You keep going through the long list, both of you knowing where the other kept everything. You freeze when you get to the last thing on the list, written in Evelina’s hand writing instead of your own. “Jerseys.” 

“I have mine. Yours is in my room.” 

“Good,” you say, almost completely forgetting about the game.  You shake your head as if to physically shake the thought of Matthew from your mind. “Got your keys?” you ask Evelina, her waving them in your face as you grab yours, too. “Let’s go then.”

The two of you lug your stuff towards the door, opening it and ready to leave when you see him there. “Matthew?” you say, surprised to see him standing in your doorway, a bouquet of flowers in hand, a guilty expression on his face as he looked like he hadn’t slept for days. “What are you doing here?” you ask in shock, feeling your heart start to race.

“Can we talk?” he asks quietly, debating on stepping into your apartment or not. 

“No. We’re leaving for the airport now, we don’t have time,” you tell him, trying to move past him.

“Come on, we need to talk,” he insists, putting his arm against the frame of your door to stop you from moving past him.

“Why should I listen to you?” you ask, looking up at him. 

“Because I love you.”

[chocoholicannanymous]

Gonna Come True (Glee)

AN: This is a follow-up to There's a Miracle Due which was written for the Glee Twistfest, “What if Mercedes & Kurt got Maria & Tony?” back in 2014 (yikes). I had the storyline for this already back then (hello, all of three lines in a document), it's just taken me until now to actually write it. 

For @krummavisur who wanted it.

Thanks to @elledelajoie for looking it over .

The title is taken from “Something Coming”, West Side Story.

Oh, and I am not trying to follow any kind of canon time-line. Just, go with it.

Gonna Come True

Kurt throws himself into preparing for West Side Story with an energy that makes Mercedes envious. She understands though – he doesn't feel like he got the role honestly, which is bullshit, but. He still thinks he needs to prove himself. In her eyes he did so during his audition, and it's everyone else who needs to prove themselves to him, but he doesn't see it that way. Years of Lima bullshit stops him from seeing it.

He doesn't drop out of the race for senior class president though, not even when he's complaining about balancing that with Tony and school and Blaine. She asks him why and gets an answer she should have expected.

“At first this was about getting at least something on my resume. But that's not it any longer. I'm running as a reminder that bullying is a problem at this school, and that something needs to be done. If I win – and I don't expect to, not here – then I have a shot at making the administration do something. If I lose I still raise awareness. Every time I speak about my agenda I force the people listening to remember that bullying is an issue, that bullying kills, and that it is not okay.

“That's worth losing a little sleep.”

Mercedes's heart swells at hearing her boo speak so passionately about it, and it breaks as she hears an angry Santana tell Brittany that she should run against Kurt.

Kurt who is currently pulling down unicorn posters around the school while pushing back tears.

She waits until Brittany walks away before cornering Santana.

“We need to talk. What you just told Brit? That's a shit thing to do.”

Santana starts to argue, all fire, and under other circumstances Mercedes would admire her willingness to go to bat for her girl, but not now.

“No. Don't you dare. Do you know why Kurt is so upset over those posters? It's because to him they represent everything that he's been bullied over. And that? Has a lot to do with you. You have been sitting in the choir room for two years, mocking him for what he likes and for who he is.

“So here we are. Him running on an anti-bullying platform, and your girlfriend plastering the school with posters reminding him of exactly that bullying. Do I really need to explain to you why it is that when Kurt looks at those posters he doesn't see Brit's intentions, her meaning – he sees your bullying.”

Mercedes sees her words are hitting home, even if Santana is putting up a good front.

“Oh, and Santana? When you mock Kurt for being gay it makes you a hypocrite. But when you mock him for being 'girly'? It's even worse. Because when you say that there's something wrong with being like a girl, you're implying that there's something wrong with being a girl. And I'm not okay with that.

“Now, you are going to go back to Brit and tell her exactly what happened here, and you're going to make sure that she forgets all about running against him. He's had enough of his so-called friends doing that, I'd think.

“I'm not saying this – any of this – to be mean. I'm trying to be a good friend, to Kurt and to you. But make no mistake. You ruin this for Kurt? I'll ruin you.”

Mercedes might not be popular like a cheerleader, but she's got friends and she's got contacts outside of school. Her threat's not an empty one, and Santana knows it.

Her phone's ringing. There's something hitting her window, and her phone's ringing. At half past eleven on a school night.

Whoever it is, Mercedes is going to cut them.

Except it's Kurt, and he's not looking right.

As she lets him in through the back-door Mercedes notices the wrinkled clothes and the mussed hair that doesn't fit with a night of dancing. More making out, but Kurt doesn't have that well-kissed look. Plus, he's pale and shaky.

Something's wrong.

It takes her a long time to coax the story out of him, about Blaine trying to rape him. Except when she says that Kurt denies it, vehemently.

“Are you serious right now? Are you defending him? No! Okay? No. Hell no even.

“Look, if I showed up at your place and told you Shane had pulled me into the backseat of a car, had tried to get my clothes off and wouldn't stop touching me even though I said no, what would you tell me? Would you tell me it was okay because we're dating? That he's allowed to do that because I'm in love with him and he treats me good the rest of the time? Would you tell me to suck it up and forgive him?

“Would you explain away that and tell me that if he won't respect my 'no' the solution is to say 'yes' instead?”

Kurt's even paler now, his eyes blown and unfocused. He doesn't say anything though. Instead he just whimpers and rushes out to the bathroom.

When he comes back he's regained some color. He still looks like shit though. Mercedes pulls out some comfortable clothes that were bought for her brother, but got conscripted as backup for unplanned Kurt-visits, and leaves him to change while she gets them some chamomile tea.

Later, as the lights are out and they're curled up together, trying to get what rest they can Kurt whispers: “I'm going to have to break up with him, aren't I?”

She holds him as he cries himself to sleep.

The next day Kurt pretends like nothing's happened. He doesn't want to rock the boat before the West Side Story premiere, he says, or deal with the bitchfit Rachel would throw. “I'll do it after the final performance on Sunday” he promises, and Mercedes doesn't have it in her to push him. Not with the memory of his tears so fresh.

Dress rehearsal that night goes well, right up to the point where Artie comes to talk to them after. They need more fire, more passion, he claims and then proceeds to tell them that they should hurry up and have sex before their first show so they can portray lovers more believably. Oh, he doesn't put it quite like that, but it's pretty obvious that's what he means.

Mercedes is stunned at first, and then furious. She's surprised that Kurt's not ripping into him, with everything, and oh. Hell no.

“Are you telling me to have sex to improve the show you're directing? Really? How about you get some classes or something, to improve your part? You know, instead of sexually harassing me.”

Artie sputters out what's probably meant as a denial, but she just talks right over him.

“If you as much as breathe about this again, to anyone, I will report you. And then my mama will go have a talk with your parents about how they've failed at raising you to be a decent human being.

“Do you get me?”

He nods quickly, mumbles something and makes a hasty retreat. Just as he goes out the door Kurt's voice rings out, cold.

“And to think I remember a boy who grieved that his first time wasn't romantic enough. I wonder what he would think of you now.”

Artie doesn't say anything, or slow down, but he slumps a little in his chair as the barb hits home. Mercedes shifts her attention to Kurt and sees pale skin, rigid posture and shaky hands. He's thinking the same thing she is.

“Boo...”

“No, 'Cedes, please. Let's not speculate about whether or not he had that speech with the others first. I can't, not now.”

So she lets it go. For now.

Mercedes is on stage for the opening show Friday night along with Kurt. Not in the spotlight, sure, but still there. She can't help but compare Rachel and Blaine's performance with what she and Kurt can do, and they come up short. Tomorrow night, she thinks. Tomorrow night we're going to show them how it's really done.

She says as much to Kurt as they leave together and he laughs, the first sign of happiness she's heard from him in two days. The laughter dies out soon as he spots a bunch of well-dressed boys waiting outside. She recognizes a few from Kurt's time at Dalton, but not all of them. She'd think it nice of them to come see their friends perform, except judging from Kurt's reaction they're not an entirely welcome sight.

He still greets them politely, smiling that small “company smile” she doesn't like while asking if they remember Mercedes.

“And this,” he says with strained, icy politeness, “is Sebastian Smythe, this year's new transfer to Dalton.”

This then is the reason they're not welcome. Still, she follows Kurt's example and pulls out church manners.

Apparently the boys have been given tickets by Blaine, the tall new boy explains, before trying to needle Kurt.

“So, Officer Krupke? How did that feel, such a...manly role?”

Ouch.

“Oh, you know, it's not about the role, it's what you put into it. And it makes for an interesting contrast to tomorrow and playing Tony. ”

Everyone quiets at that and the mood gets slightly uncomfortable. Trent is about to break the silence, but Sebastian talks right over him.

“Right. Well, we'll have to withhold judgment until after of course, but I'd say you'll have a hard time measuring up to Blaine. And you,” he turns to Mercedes, “are you also playing another role tomorrow? This one's Maria perhaps?”

She nods without explaining, and then listens as the boys stumble over excuses about not knowing exactly who'll be there tomorrow, but “We're sure you'll do great, Kurt!”

Once they're out of sight Kurt sags a little.

“He didn't tell them. He went to Dalton to tell them about the show, and give them tickets, and he didn't tell them I was in it. Didn't tell them I was also playing Tony. They tried to cover it up, but... They were my friends too, and he didn't tell them.”

She loops an arm around his waist and snuggles close.

He deserves so much better.

There's a group of Dalton boys there next evening again, making Kurt smile and Blaine startle. Some are from the evening before, including the sharp Sebastian, some are new. They all applaud enthusiastically, and wait so they can congratulate Kurt on his performance. Mercedes pays extra attention to Sebastian, for some reason, but all he says is “not bad”. It sounds genuine though, and so is Kurt's smile as he nods and thanks the other boy.

Mercedes knows they did better than “not bad”. They were awesome together. She doesn't need to hear it from this reluctant boy though. She's got a better source.

They skip the cast party. Kurt's not eager to be with Blaine, especially since there might be alcohol involved, and Mercedes prefers celebrating with her boyfriend who has been a rock. There's a small sting as Kurt walks away alone, but it slips away as she accepts Shane's flowers and kiss and walks out on his arm.

The next morning Mercedes shows up at the Hummel-Hudson house almost uncomfortably early. She drags a still sleep-tussled Kurt to the dining table and spreads out the Gazette in front of him. It's already open to the right page and she sees exactly when Kurt realizes what she's got.

“You read that, I'll fix breakfast.”

She's brought coffee from home along with juice and fresh croissants from the bakery a block away and a small carton of strawberries. It's a luxury, but it's a well-deserved one. It's the work of no time to put it all out along with cups and plates, and as she does that she hears Kurt's voice rise, reading select paragraphs out loud.

“Rachel Berry's 'Maria' is technically perfect, with the singer hitting every note. Sadly that excellence does not extend to the rest of her performance. Ms Berry fails to provide personality and emotion, and simply put she lacks the ability to bring Maria to life.”

He stops, shakes his head and looks at her.

“Ehm, ouch?”

Yes.

“Blaine Anderson as Tony does not help. Where a better singer and actor could shore up his counterpart Anderson falls flat. 'Flat' is in fact the word that comes to mind most often when seeing and listening to him performing. Anderson fails to hit the notes in several of the songs, and often resorts to what must be described as screaming instead of singing. He lacks the range needed to play Tony, and obviously also the training needed to make up for his shortcomings.

“On the acting side it's equally flat. Anderson's body language and facial expressions are mostly too subtle – or possibly non-existent – to come across from the stage, making it like watching a cardboard cut-out most of the time. On the other hand, when he does come across it's much too exaggerated, making his Tony look like a caricature. (I find myself looking at the playbill to see if this is meant to be a comedic take on this epic show. It's not.)

“Holy shit, 'Cedes!”

Yessssss.

“Finally, the dancing. Here, Anderson does better – most of the time. He clearly favors certain parts of the choreography, and there he does very well. In other parts it is obvious that Anderson lacks either the desire or the ability to perform according to choreography. This shows, as other cast members – including Ms Berry's Maria – often have to adjust their own moves to accommodate Anderson, either because he takes up too much space or because he simply isn't where he is supposed to be.

“Towards the end of the show Anderson also shows a surprising lack of stamina, and almost literally falls flat as he stumbles through some of the steps.

“The rest of the cast...”

Kurt's voice peters off, and he looks at her, stunned. Mercedes only smiles, satisfied.

“You should read on. Really.”

Kurt looks at her with skepticism, but does as she says. She knows exactly when he hits the part she wanted him to see, because he looks up at her, wide-eyed and slightly stunned.

“After this the pair playing Maria and Tony during Saturday's performance – as well as today's matinée – is a pleasant surprise. Mercedes Jones and Kurt Hummel bring our lovers to life in a way that looks more like a professional setup than a high school play. Not only are they both talented singers, but they also manage to communicate the story to the audience and play off each other in a way that lifts the entire show.

“It is noticeable, having seen both sets of performers that like Anderson Jones has some difficulty with the choreography. However the adjustments made to cater to her limitations in no way come off as a lesser version of what Berry performs, and does in fact make her look better than Anderson's attempt at a more complex choreography. Meanwhile Hummel needs no such adjustments and manages to pair vocals with dancing in a truly impressive manner.

“Hummel's vocals could take up an article of its own, and so this reporter will just note that it comes as no surprise that Hummel is pursuing schooling and later a career in performing arts. We are looking forward to seeing him on stage on many more occasions.”

Kurt drops the paper and blinks like an owl.

“Am I dreaming? Did an actual reporter not only attend a West Side Story performance at McKinley to write about it in the Gazette, but they actually went twice?”

“Yeah boo.”

“And they actually wrote that we did better than Rachel and Blaine?”

“Yeah, they did. And they were right, you know. You did so much better than Blaine that he should be embarrassed.”

Kurt blushes a little, then pulls a grimace.

“What?”

“I was just thinking... I've been wondering if breaking up with Blaine over what happened was an overreaction, because...” He meets her eye, and looks away. “Anyway, I'm reading this and instead of being happy for me – for us – I can't help but think that Blaine's going to go ballistic. And that waiting for the show to be over probably wasn't that great of an idea. He's going to expect me to listen to him whine about this.”

Mercedes isn't surprised to hear that Kurt's been considering forgiving his boyfriend. A bit disappointed, sure, but not surprised. He always was more loyal than people deserved. She is surprised that he's being that clear-sighted about Blaine though. That's good. That means he's probably going to follow through.

As if cued Kurt's phone starts buzzing and they both look at the screen. Blaine. Mercedes makes an unhappy face. Kurt... Kurt looks upset and rejects the call before turning the sound off.

“Boo?”

“I am not going to ruin my afterglow by listening to him complain about how no one appreciates him. Not when I'm already going to break up with him. Just, no.

“Instead I'm going to enjoy this lovely breakfast with my gorgeous leading lady, and then I'm going to read that article again and gloat. Oh, and then I'm going out to get myself a couple of extra copies as proof that even in Lima people can see our talent.

“I don't know how you did it, but you, my dear, pulled off a miracle.”

And she has, hasn't she? Not by making someone see and recognize Kurt's talent, though, but by making him smile, wide and open.

That's her miracle, right there.

~ The End ~