#they’d be so angry he lost his v card first

[augment-techs]

HC MEME: MM Comics, Billy--▼♡☠✿

Childhood Headcanon: He used to cry so much before he went into kindergarten, his mother thought he had some kind of an illness, his father thought he was autistic. But no, he just really wanted to not be left alone for more than an hour, otherwise his little tiny child self thought nobody loved him, or he was being abandoned. He hated the tastes of blueberries, of lemons, of clementines. The smell of apples in the pies his mother baked from scratch made him sick, and he’d have sooner snuffed black pepper than had cinnamon on anything.

Romantic Headcanon: He wasn’t exactly sure and certain he was always gay. He knew girls made him feel a kind of way that was more friendly and familial, and boys made him feel...like he had to prove something to himself for them.  Like, when he first met Trini, he wanted her to be happy in this new place in a long line of new places, but didn’t have a crush on her. When he met Kim, he decided that she was too lonely to just leave with Matt, and worked with Jason to ease the tension between her and Zack. He’s always had an eye on Skull, though.  When they had prom, he wasn’t too worried about Tasha; she seemed a nice enough girl, but Billy wasn’t surprised that it didn’t last. She wasn’t good enough for him. When Kim decided to take Skull up on his offer for a date, and Billy found out, he felt...weird. On the one hand, she promised that it was a good time and he was such a gentleman; but on the other hand, Skull seemed so quiet for a week afterwards. Billy wouldn’t lie: he didn’t like Candice very much when she was simply presented as a punk girly-girl that was totally into Skull and made him positively glow sometimes--and stop wearing his leather jacket and spikes for a time.  He liked her even less when the truth came to light and she had to hide herself and Skull looked close to a nervous breakdown while he looked for her.  So it was little surprise when he found himself seeking out Skull’s quiet company at the Juice Bar. Not to talk, not to really meet eyes, but usually they’d order and share a smoothie like they did when they were kids. Split the use of the spoon and do their homework. Billy letting Skull rest his head on his shoulder just to try and relax. Angry/Violent Headcanon: Blue is a dangerous Color to have. Not like Red with its stubbornness and explosive tendencies; not like Green with it’s need to pass the muster of chaos at every turn; not like Yellow with such closeness to humanity that it sometimes goes into overdrive doing too much at once. Blue is a cold, incrementally getting more and more deadly as rage and dislike and hatred builds up and up and up--like the snow at the peak of a mountaintop. Billy’s danger comes in the fact that he could ruin so many lives if he really wanted to; he has the tools, and the brilliance, and the know-how.  Violence on the other hand... Well, he does always carry around a pocket knife and a multitool if he needs it. Sex Headcanon: Let’s see, he’s only ever tried a little over the sweater action with Trini, ONCE, on a dare at a party with alcohol involved. As for the full on sex thing... Well, he’s had a lovely time with Zack teaching how to properly masturbate, and lost his backdoor V-Card at the same party he kissed Trini, but to Jason. He’s gotten drunk once and made out heavily with Tommy, and given Matt a blowjob. But he found out his kinks and preferences when he finally got the fuck over himself and just asked out Skull. And what a fun journey that was. Eugene’s mouth might be the easiest way in the world to get him off and directly into having an orgasm, but generally speaking? Billy is a TOTAL top. He can go for hours pounding and riding Skull like a Cossack, get the wiry punk to come just as many times as Billy himself, and still have enough energy to imbibe in his favorite kink of sucking on Eugene’s tits while his boyfriend squeezes and pulls at his ass like bread dough.

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

Follow My Lead

Happy late birthday @dani-dandelino 💖💖 I love you so much it isn’t even real!!! I cant wait to squish you and give you the best tall person hug I possibly can! (i wrote this while blasting taylor in your honor)

Warnings: they drinkin, seeing old exes, cheating exes, accidental-ish love confessions, mutual pining, fake dating, and they were roommates 👀

________________

“Oh shit, I’m too drunk for this,” Jaskier scrambled to pull Geralt into a darker corner of the bar they’d descended upon for Lambert’s birthday, “I can’t see her here. Fuck.”

Geralt rather tactlessly looked over his shoulder at Jaskier’s ex, now ordering a drink and sitting at the bar with what looked like a date. 

“Don’t look Geralt! She knows you’re my roommate,” Jaskier hissed and dragged Geralt around a corner so he wouldn’t blow his cover. Their breakup had been… rough. Olivia had cheated, then told Jaskier he’d never find someone like her. For three months he’d managed to avoid the venomous woman who lived just two blocks over from him and Geralt’s apartment. And now she was right fucking there and he wanted to cry.

“Jask, take a breath. You don’t have to talk to her if you don’t want to,” Geralt held him by the shoulders and tried to get him to make eye contact. He was far too preoccupied with watching the corner for an incoming ex. 

“I’ll tell her I’m dating a doctor. Uhm… and they’re not here because…. Doctors Without Borders! Ha! See?! I’m fine Geralt, why are you looking at me like that?”

Geralt rolled his eyes, “I have a better idea. Follow my lead.” 

Stumbling and barely saving his cocktail from sloshing everywhere, Jaskier trotted after Geralt. To his horror, he realised they were headed straight for Olivia’s spot at the counter. Geralt didn’t skip a beat, linking arms with Jaskier and winking at him.

Well that didn't help at all. Jaskier’s stomach did a little backflip, even as he clung to Geralt, the alcohol swirling in his veins making it much easier to lean on him. He was momentarily distracted by how nice it was to lean his temple on Geralt’s shoulder, even if it was an awkward angle, and he went a little weak in the knees when Geralt leaned against the bar and pulled him close while they waited for the bartender to get to them. 

Jaskier whispered, “What are you-”

Only to be interrupted by Olivia, “Jullian! Hi! How are you darling?”

He felt Geralt’s grip around him tighten just a bit as she spoke and something deep in his chest purred at the protective gesture as he plastered a blindingly fake smile over his features, “Absolutely lovely, dear! How are you?”

“Good! I’m just here with Valdo,” she gestured over to the man sitting next to her at the bar. He looked like the black haired, greaseball version of Jaskier and it took everything in his liquor addled brain to keep from scoffing. Then it hit him. 

“Oh! The Valdo! Well it’s good to put a face to the name,” Jaskier barely kept from gritting his teeth. 

Geralt hugged him tighter, leaning down to stage-whisper in his ear, “We can go if you want. Lambert can go without birthday shots, love.”

Love?! 

Fuck, Geralt never called him Love. Not even at their drunkest, highest, or most deliriously tired. It had him scrambling for a moment, just looking up over his shoulder at Geralt in absolute wonder and… and probably a little too much affection.

“No! Lambert needs his birthday shot of cheap tequila. Thank you though, sweetheart.” 

The pet name rolled off his tongue far too easily. Normally he kept the pet names to a minimum for Geralt. He’d noticed a bit of bristling early on so he just- held back. Now it felt sinfully indulgent to call him that when he wanted… fuck what did he want?

Luckily they were rescued from the awkward introduction by the bartender asking for their order. 

“Eight shots of Casamigos please! And one lemonade chaser and a shot glass of grenadine please!” Jaskier piped up, whipping his credit card out of his pocket too fast for Geralt to stop him. 

“I thought you said cheap?” Valdo scoffed. 

Geralt frowned, half stepping between him and Jaskier, “It is? It’s no Barrique de Ponciano?”

Jaskier was really trying not to laugh now. They’d n e v e r bought something that fancy, nor would they ever. But they’d been googling the most expensive bottles of different alcohols the other night and Geralt had drunkenly tried for a whole half hour to pronounce the name of this particular tequila. 

The look on Valdo’s face was magnificent. Olivia’s eyebrows disappeared behind her betty bangs and Jaskier felt the purring beast in his chest get louder. 

He reached up to pat Geralt’s cheek, “No need to spoil me tonight.” 

Olivia leveled them with a piercing stare, doing that annoying ‘creating suspense’ thing she liked to do before she said something she was proud of, “I’m glad you two finally got together. I think you’ll be good for each other.”

Geralt did the remainder of the talking while Jaskier stared at him in shock. Unfortunately that was exactly what he wanted. He wanted to sink into Geralt’s embrace like this all the damn time and hear his nearly imperceptible huff of annoyance at comments people made. Nothing would please him more than feeling Geralt’s stubble pressed against his temple when he pressed a kiss to his hairline every day and he did his best in his drunken state to memorize it in case it never happened again. 

He came back from his dazed fantasy to Geralt guiding his hand down to his belt and it took him a panicked moment to realize he was meant to hold on while Geralt lead them back to the party carrying the shots. 

Jaskier offered a quick “Toodles,” and flipped Valdo off with his free hand when Olivia turned her back, but they were soon lost in the sea of people. Without really thinking, he took his shot with the group and dumped the grenadine into his lemonade. Well he was thinking.

And he didn’t stop thinking, staring off into space until Geralt nudged him with his elbow, giving him a concerned look. 

“What the fuck was that?!”

“It worked, didn’t it?” Geralt shrugged, popping a mozzarella stick in his mouth and speaking around it, “And you didn't have to lie your ass off.”

How Geralt was still so calm was beyond Jaskier. Well, it wasn’t, he’d been sure his roommate had absolutely no feelings for him whatsoever, but part of him had held out for a sliver of hope and that part was the dominant part right then. 

“Love?!”

“Are you- mad? I thought it would help sell it…” Geralt rested a hand on his elbow to guide him away from the group.

Jaskier knocked back what had been left of his cocktail before the shots and could feel the regret in advance. It was never a good idea to talk about important things either drunk or hungover but here he was, about to flip shit on Geralt for… being a good friend?

“I’m not fucking angry, I’m yearning!”

The second, much more intense, wave of regret hit him when Geralt’s eyes went wide and his hand dropped from Jaskier’s arm.

“Oh don’t look at me like that,” Jaskier snapped, wiping a hand over his face, “And don’t remind me about this in the morning if I forget.”

Before he could make his escape with his tail between his legs, Geralt gripped him by the shoulders and trapped him in a kiss so frantic and needy his head was spinning when they parted. 

“Jask?”

“Hm?” He had to remember to open his eyes, lost in the tingling ghost of Geralt’s lips on his and the firm grip still holding him close. 

The grin Geralt was sporting was far too cheeky to be allowed much longer but Jaskier refrained from kissing him again to hear what he had to say, “Can I remind you of that in the morning?”

“Oh, fuck yeah,” Jaskier mumbled as he wrapped his arms around Geralt’s neck and pulled him into another kiss, this one much softer but no less satisfying than the first. 

[hermannsthumb]

Hello!! If you're not too busy and are so inclined, could you do 24, 27, 37 for the fall prompts? For Newt and Hermann o b v i o u s l y. Thank u so so much!! Keep up the great work xoxo

24. Warm Sweaters + 37. Cold

from autumn fic prompts here

im cheating a LITTLE and not filling the “27. corn maze” part because I wrote it last year and im def not inspired enough to do another HAHA. and also...because I want to work towards finishing my @theloccent bingo card belatedly with Spooning and Huddling for Warmth. SORRY I TOOK SO LONG, ive had a weird summer and i just moved/started grad school last week, it hasn't been very conducive for writing. set ambiguously before they're transferred to the HK shatterdome

----------

“I must say, Newton,” Hermann says, “I believe I sorely underestimated your abilities.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Newt says, gloomily.

“You went above and beyond what I expected.”

“I get it,” Newt says.

“It takes a true sort of talent to screw things up as much as you have.”

“I get it,” Newt says.

Hermann is not smirking--he’s too angry right now for that--but he does have a somewhat unpleasant curl to his mouth that’s making Newt boil hot with embarrassment all the same. Sort of a sneer, maybe. “I get it,” Newt says for the third time. “I’m a fuck-up, I’m a walking disaster, I--” He kicks the front of the rental car hard with the end of his boot, relishing in the dull thud that echoes from it, and less in the dull pain. “--can’t even figure out how to patch a fucking tire.”

“Or drive,” Hermann offers, helpfully. “You can’t drive, either.”

“Neither can you, Mr. Speed Demon,” Newt shoots back, but he knows it falls flat. After all--when their connecting flight got cancelled, Hermann wasn't the one who insisted they leave the relative safety of the airport to peel out into a snowstorm in search of a hotel. Hermann wasn’t the one who insisted on driving the rental. Hermann isn’t the one who got them lost down some shitty little road in the middle of nowhere, with snow piling up all around them, and he definitely isn’t the one who got distracted behind the wheel trying to adjust the radio and didn't see a patch of ice in time and sent the car--well. The point is, they’re down two tires, probably an engine, most definitely their only mode of transportation, and sure as hell aren’t near any hotel.

Around them is snow as far as the eye can see. When they get home (and that’s if they ever make it back to the airport), Newt is requesting a transfer to the LA Shatterdome ASAP. “Well, Newton?” Hermann says. He’s bundled up in his stupid parka and more scarves than Newt even owns. Newt can barely see his face. “What’s your next brilliant plan? Build an igloo?”

Not a bad idea, at this rate; the snow is no joke. “I’m thinking,” Newt grumbles. His breath puffs out white in front of him. “Tow truck,” he says. “We need a tow truck.”

“Astute,” Hermann says.

Newt ignores him and pulls his cell phone from his pocket. No bars. Right, of course, middle of fucking nowhere. “Do you have any reception?” Newt sighs.

“I didn’t bring my mobile,” Hermann says.

Newt’s eyes snap up to fix on him incredulously. “You didn’t bring--?! What the hell, man?”

“I had no need for it on the trip,” Hermann says. “We’re meant to be at a conference. I didn't think we’d get lost.” He doesn’t even have the audacity to look ashamed. Newt debates hurling his cell phone into the snow bank in frustration, but decides against it, because it did kind of cost a lot.

“Unbelievable,” he says instead. “Fucking unbelievable. Fine. Let’s go find--”

“You’re not saying we ought to walk somewhere?” Hermann interrupts.

“What other options do we have?” Newt says. “Freeze to death? There’s gotta be at least a gas station or something nearby--I could find someone to tow the car, while you--” He looks Hermann up and down, from his oversized Oxfords to his twenty scarves to his pathetic red cheeks. Hermann’s leg gets stiff as hell in the cold; there’s no way he’d be able to make any kind of distance right now, and who knows how long they’d be walking. There’s also no way Newt’s leaving him behind. “Come on,” he finally sighs, and touches Hermann’s elbow tentatively. “Let’s just get back in the car. It’s warmer in there.”

Maybe he’ll go off by himself once the snow stops. Or maybe, if they’re lucky, someone will stop by and offer them a ride before that. “Only barely,” Hermann says with a scowl, but he obliges.

Newt doesn’t get back in the car right away, though. Instead, he pops the trunk, pulls out their duffel bags, and begins feeling around the backseat. They’ve only had the rental for a few hours, and Newt isn’t exactly the most skilled around cars, but he thinks... “What are you doing back there?” Hermann says.

“One sec,” Newt says, and when he tugs a little lever off to the side, the seats fold down. Another tug, and they fold back into the trunk, leaving the back half of the car entirely flat. “Oh, awesome!”

"Newton?”

Newt ignores Hermann and begins digging around in their duffel bags. He has nothing but a few spare sweatshirts and boxers in his own; Hermann’s proves far more promising. “Score,” Newt whistles, and pulls out two--three--four ugly sweaters. “Holy shit, dude, we were only supposed to be there for a night. Why’d you pack so much?”

“I like to be prepared,” Hermann says. “Which you clearly know nothing about. Hang on--” He cranes his neck around his seat headrest to frown at Newt. “Why are you--?”

“You’re a regular Boy Scout,” Newt interrupts. He climbs into the back of the car, kicks his boots a few times against the back fender to knock off all the snow, and shuts the trunk behind him. “Come on,” he says, unlacing his boots, “get back here already. I’m cold.”

Hermann stares at him.

Newt shucks off his leather jacket and pulls one of Hermann’s sweater over his head instead. It’s insane how much of a difference it makes--maybe Hermann has been on something all these years when he tells Newt he needs proper winter wear or whatever the fuck. He pulls on a second one for good measure, pleasantly surprised to find he can still move his arms, and then pulls on a second pair of his socks over his first. “C’mon, Hermann,” he says. “Time to share some body heat, dude.”

Hermann grumbles, and he shakes his head, and he tucks the hood of his parka down over his face (like being unable to see Newt means Newt will just magically forget he’s there), and then--finally--he turns back to face Newt again. “This is ridiculous,” he declares. “We must have other options.”

Newt lays down and stretches out on his side, blinking up at Hermann coyly. “You’re making it weird for no reason,” he says. “It doesn’t have to be weird, you know.” It can be perfectly natural--two dudes, who sometimes fight, and sometimes do things a little more amorous than fight, sharing body heat. That's all. “It’s just biology. Cats do it, penguins do it--”

“No,” Hermann says.

He comes to the backseat anyway. Newt likes to think it’s because he’s too irresistible.

“I call being big spoon,” Newt says happily, and he tucks himself around Hermann’s bony--and, at the moment, puffy--back before Hermann can protest. One leg, he nudges between Hermann’s, making sure not to put any weight where he shouldn’t; he settles the arm wrapped around Hermann at his waist, splaying his hand somewhere around Hermann’s upper abdomen. “There. Isn’t that nice?”

“Hmph,” Hermann says.

Outside, the storm rages on around them, snow piling up on the windows and frosting them over where it hasn’t landed yet. The last dregs of the heat in the car die out. Newt tucks himself a little closer to Hermann, inhaling his shampoo, the slight damp scent his fuzzy parka hood always has. Hasn’t the guy ever heard of dry-cleaning? “Feeling cozy?” Newt mumbles.

“You’re shivering,” Hermann tells him.

“Am I?” Newt says.

He is. Huh. Hermann turns over with a grunt, then unzips his parka and tucks Newt into it in one fluid motion. Newt winds his arms around Hermann instinctively. “There we are,” Hermann murmurs. “Let’s get you warm.”

The zipper goes back up with some difficulty, pressing Newt so tight against Hermann’s chest he can barely move. Hermann’s chin bumps his forehead. Newt looks up to find his wide mouth parted slightly. “I think I want to kiss you,” Newt says, surprising himself.

“Hm?” Hermann says.

“I want to kiss you,” Newt repeats a little louder, and that gets a reaction--Hermann’s eyebrows leap to his sweaty bangs, and his whole body stiffens. “Listen--listen. Uh. The best way to share body heat--you know--it’s stuff like that. Kissing, and--”

“I am not having sex with you in the back of a bloody rental car,” Hermann half-shouts. 

Newt wriggles around a little until he can steal an uncoordinated kiss from Hermann, landing it somewhere to the left of his mouth. He has better aim with his next one. “I won’t tell anyone if you don't,” he promises.

“We are not,” Hermann says, but the next kiss, he instigates himself.

They’re rescued half an hour later when a local knocks on the window and asks if they need a lift; the bed and breakfast Newt was so sure he was leading them to, as it turns out, is only a five minute walk away, hidden from view by some trees and the snow. “At least we had some fun bonding time,” Newt tells Hermann sheepishly in the lobby.

Hermann scowls, but to Newt’s delight, requests a single queen for them both.

[five-hxrgreeves]

I Won’t Back Down - Five Hargreeves x OC

Word Count: 1,982

You can stand me up at the gates of hell But I won't back down I'm gonna stand my ground Won't be turned around And I'll keep this world from dragging me down

1 |  2  | 3 |  4 |

Pt. 3- Monday, April 1, 2019

The morning of the first dawned with a bright blue sky and perfect spring temperatures, almost in  mocking irony of the fate it would meet later on that same day. Suspecting nothing amiss, Lola began her usual morning routine of getting ready for school. After brushing her teeth, she went to her closet and decided on a pair of jeans, a white, long-sleeved v-necked shirt with black polka-dots and after brushing her hair, hesitated over a choice of hats that she owned. While there was no strict dress code at her school, she did like to make a good first impression on Mondays. The rest of the week was up for grabs.

Coming to a decision, she reached for a yellow hat with a navy-blue ribbon around the crown that was tied in a bow and placed it jauntily on her head. The brunette was somewhat known around school for her unique accessories so she’d only been indecisive over which style she’d wanted, not actually whether or not to wear a hat. She then pulled on a pair of riding-styled boots and picked up her backpack, sliding her deck of cards into the back pocket of her jeans. Lunchtime was usually a boring affair so it was often when she would practice her magic- sometimes with a crowd to entertain.

On her route to school, Lola passed the familiar Umbrella Academy house and wondered what transpired within the walls, remembering the strange man she’d met the previous week. She wondered how long it had been since all of the siblings had seen each other since from Vanya’s book, it hadn’t seemed like they’d lived under the same roof for a long, long time. A smile flickered across her face as she thought of grown-up superheroes attempting to act like real siblings and the interesting, chaotic bickering that might ensue.

(Of course, she had no idea that such arguments might result in the end of life on earth.)

After that, the day passed as it usually did, with millions and billions of people completely unaware of what the night would bring.

--

Once dinner was over, Lola scraped her plate clean and set it in the dishwasher before turning it on to run, blatantly unaware that this would be the last time she did such a mundane action for a long, long time. Then, she made her way into the family room where her mother, father and uncle were sitting on the couch about to watch TV. Both men had their traditional after-dinner drink of two fingers of whiskey while her mother sipped on spiked hot coffee.

“Mom?” Lola asked.

“Yes, dear?”

“I’m going to the basement now, all of the dinner dishes are cleaned up.”

Her mother’s blue eyes- the ones she’d inherited- flicked to the younger girl, “alright, but don’t stay up too late. It’s a school night, you know.”

Her uncle grinned, “yeah,” he said, breaking to take a sip from his glass, “wouldn’t want you to show up all grumpy for school tomorrow.”

Lola sighed and nodded in acceptance, “alright, I’ll do my best,” she said, knowing it was more than likely she’d lose track of time anyway.

Moving first towards her mother, then father and finally her uncle, she gave them each a goodnight hug and exchanged their daily I love yous.

(She would be grateful that these were the last words she’d ever said to her family. At least she wouldn’t have to live wondering if her family had known she’d loved them.)

Then, she went to the basement.

Not even a mile away, the beginnings of an altercation were occurring at the house the size of a single block where the seventh, disregarded member of the family of superheroes was receiving a hostile welcome at the introduction of her new boyfriend, Leonard Peabody.

--

Lola liked her basement. It wasn’t terribly large but it wasn’t terribly small, either. Half of it was unfinished and the other half was lived-in, creating a perfect balance. In the unfinished side, metal shelves that one might see in a hardware store stood floor-to-ceiling with various tools and stored holiday items. Paint cans, electric machinery, extension cords and other items one would normally find in a shed were scattered haphazardly along the shelves.

In the other half, a carpeted floor of some green color stretched from the back wall to right before Lola’s writing desk. On top of it sat an old, brown-leather couch, a black wooden coffee table from IKEA and a TV hung mounted on the wall. After the carpet ended, removable foam-padded tiles formed the floor. This was the area where Lola’s desk sat which was a large, white table. The desktop itself was almost empty except for her half-filled notebook, three different-sized candles, a pencil sharpener and a pencil holder. Her papers- both for school and other things- were stored in a hand-me-down brown file cabinet that stood to the left of her workspace.

Before sitting down to write, the brunette carried out her ritual warm-up: lighting the candles, flipping to the next available page, sharpening her pencil and placing her reference books on her desk- The Book Thief, of course, and her new book from Vanya Hargreeves. Then, she pulled her deck of cards from her back pocket and placed the rectangular box carefully on the lower-left corner of her desk, making sure to match up the corners of the box with the outlined shape created by the corner. She wasn’t sure why she did this, it just was something she absolutely had to do before she finally sat down.

Once finished, Lola made sure to flip the electric lights off and returned to her seat which was a rolly-chair with one broken wheel. She began to write surrounded by her small pool of glowing, flickering light.

Today’s memory is from when I was six. (Note to self: find a better opening.) It was my first time at the store for hours on end. Usually, a babysitter would come by and pick me up but I suppose she cancelled. (NtS: get more details. Just kidding, nobody cares about that.) Anyway, I was super bored and since I was little, I didn’t have any schoolwork to do. I wandered around the store for a bit, probably causing mischief. Anyway (you already said that, dummy) the funny part is that I sat down at a group of mannequins because there weren’t any other seats and I must’ve sat so still that everyone thought I was one because when I finally stood up, a woman screamed. I didn’t know why at the time but it happened again when I was older. Then I started doing it for my own amusement. It was funny to see people think that I was a fake, plastic doll only to realize I was actually real. Sometimes, I even went to the back and dressed in clothes that would soon be modeled by the mannequins- although I think the effect was ruined because I didn’t fit them.

--

A story up and a block over, the altercation had grown to a full-blown verbal assault, the main four members of the family heatedly questioning the new boyfriend’s insistence on them coming to their sister’s concert. The seventh member, feeling hurt and angry that her family wouldn’t, just once support her, felt the tension build up within her, her emotions unusually high from the lack of medication she’d consistently taken for years until this week.

--

The spot was also great for people-watching. While Gimbel Brothers has mostly ordinary clients, there are some cases that are more noteworthy (NtS: fix wording, sounds awkward). There are many people who bring children to the store as well. On Mondays, there is an average of twelve children, usually after school. The number varies throughout the week until Saturday where there are usually fifteen or twenty. One time, as an outlier during the holidays, there were twenty-five. I know this because I counted them. I don’t usually do it intentionally and I’m sure I miss some customers but for some reason, all the numbers stick in my head. The funny thing is, I’m terrible at math. I’m also really good at cards, though. I’ve never lost a game of War or Go Fish. My uncle says I’m a counter, which I suppose is true. I’ve also counted all the sequins on one of our formal dresses, just for fun. There were two-hundred and eighty-six.

--

As the sky grew dark outside, the argument in the large house had reached an all-time high with Leonard Peabody outwardly insulting his girlfriend’s largest brother, inciting his anger and riling him up purposefully, causing him to throw the first punch. The seventh member of the family desperately tried to pull her boyfriend away, to save him from an assault that he would surely not survive. She was right about that, but there was nothing she could do. There was only one person Number One listened to and it wasn’t her.

--

Anyway, back to people-watching. There was once a rich woman who came to our store. No one could figure out why; we’re not exactly the high-end type. She brought her daughter with her, a pretty, blonde girl with bright blue eyes. Almost like mine, I think, but they looked better on her. I heard her tell Brittany that she wanted to get her granddaughter ‘normal clothes,’ except she said it like an insult. I figure that when her granddaughter came to visit, all she provided were expensive outfits and the girl spilled on them, teaching her the lesson of buying cheaper clothes for little kids. She didn’t say all of that but I made up the story to go along with her request.

--

Standing over Leonard’s body, the seventh member of the Hargeeves turned on her brother, eyes shining white against her pale face. In his hand, he held a bloody, glass eyeball. Her siblings crowded together, trying to calm her, but she spent all of her life being calm and she was tired of it. Turning her gaze to the academy, the building shook under a ten-point-zero earthquake, the bricks and concrete falling down in rapid succession. Tearing her gaze away from the sight of her childhood hell, she let sound waves resonate through the street, knocking over buildings and causing them to collapse, burying her siblings in rubble. Carelessly, she walked away as anger, sadness and hatred fueled her steps to her apartment where she changed and gathered up her violin for the world’s last performance.

--

She was very posh too, with fur and everything. She stood still long enough that I could study her coat, which had thirty spots. I’m not sure if it was real fur (if it was, she’s a horrible person), but she certainly acted very high-class, even speaking a little nasally and tilting her head up to look down on Brittany. I think it might’ve been because of Brittany’s skin color. The woman didn’t seem to be very accepting of hard-working people that looked different from her.

--

At ten o’clock pm, the close of the concert, sound waves so large they felled the building and many blocks over swept through the city. A short, dark-haired woman with a glowing white light in the center of her chest rose above the destruction, sending out pulses of sound to the far-reaching corners of the world. With no one to stop her, no one to shoot a gun next to her ear, the bottled power exploded from her chest sharing with everyone the feelings of hurt and neglect that she’d been forced to endure throughout her childhood. One person alone survived in a basement not much deeper than the fictional character’s she admired, writing away and completely unaware that the world above had changed beyond recognition.

[iamyoursinblog]

Nuna

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (Jin, Namjoon, Taehyung)

Genre: fluff

Word Count: 3,9 k

LIST

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Part: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [extra]

POV Jungkook

"DAMN IT! Why the hell again, I agreed to this! Why did I think it will be a good idea!" Jungkook swore while lying on his bed covering his face with hands. Every time a party with your participation was given to him very difficult. You've been Jin's best friend since elementary school, and you've only seen him as a naughty kid. All the guys in the band knew about his lust for you and  they made fun of him every time,  when he trying to show you that he's no longer a boy. Everyone must were get together to the dorm today and you were supposed to come. His heart pounded furiously in his chest. After spending the whole evening with you in the same company, he almost until the morning had to jerk off the stress of your proximity. Your smell, the shape of your body, but especially your habit of driving fingers on your lips drove him crazy every minute. And now he will have another painful night. He got out of bed and stood in front of the closet. Each time he had to wear wide sweatpants to hide the hard-on. But choosing a t-shirt has always been difficult. He always opted it with a short sleeve and v-neck to bare the muscles of his arms and chest try to look more hottest. He knew how you excited from guys with muscular hands. But it never worked with you. He opted for grey pants and a grey T-shirt made of thin matter that covered every muscle in his chest and abs. He looked at himself from the bottom to up in the mirror "As if it would change something" he sneered at himself.

He left the room and immediately collided with Namjoon, looking at him from head to toe he laughed. "Still hoping for something?" he asked with a sneer. "It's not your business, hyung! I'll deal with my hopes myself!" Jungkook responded sharply. Namjoon just smiled back and walked toward the kitchen. Maybe he'd must just walk out of the house, he thinking to himself. Why does he keep tormenting himself every time. He heard laughter from the kitchen and realized that Namjoon had already told the other guys about his appearance. Sooner or later, they'd see him.

He went into the kitchen last, everyone was there. But he saw that only Jin, Taehyung and NJ were sitting in the kitchen. "Aren't we going to have a drink together today?" he asked sitting down on the nearest chair at the kitchen table. "Hoseok and Jimin are going to train the dance  into the late night, and Yoongi decided to finish working on the song in the studio, so it's unlikely to show up today." He mentally regretted not asking about Jimina's plans for today. Whom he wanted to deceive, no matter how much he cursed, he still used every opportunity to see you at least for one minute.

"She's on a blind date tonight. So she will arrive only at half an hour" Jin's words distracted him from his thoughts. What? Blind date? Why it caused fury in him. He tried to stay calm listening to the hyuns talk. "What? Is she still being forced to go on these useless dates? Hahaha... Is she still making ridicule of the guys?" laughed Namjoon. "Poor guys get enough from her. We should be pitied them" Jin replied laughing. "She's still behaving like a spoiled and rude girl because of why guys run off the middle of the date?" asked Taehyung. He was practically boiling with anger inside, what's the hell is going on, why everyone knew about her dates except him! "Hell yes! I would have had enough and a five-minute date with her to run off" shaking his head confirmed to Jin. Half an hour passed while they spoke. But you still weren't here yet, Jungkook kept looking at watch. Another 20 minutes later Jin paid attention to the clock "Hm, she already should be here by now. It's strange why she's delayed."

Jin picked up the phone and quickly typed the message. The answer came right away. "Wow, it seems her date is going well. She'll only arrive in 20 minutes" Jin said. "What? She on a date for almost 2 hours?! I'm impressed" after looking at the watch told Namjoon. A new wave of anger covered him. For all those 20 minutes, he couldn't think of anything but your date. He hasn't even heard about what his hyungs have been talked. At last the doorbell ripped him out of his mind. Taehyung quickly got up and ran to open the door. Jungkook sat on a chair unable to move. Raising his head he met Jin's gaze and realized that all this time he was watching him. He winced because all his emotions and thoughts were reflected on his face.

"Oh my God, nuna! You look gorgeous! I almost fell in love with you!" a chuckle said Taehyung. He turned his eyes to the front door and almost fell from his chair. Your dress was too short and covered your beautiful figure. Neckline was too deep baring your breasts. The make-up was too bright for a simple date, twisted curls falling on bare shoulders. His heart almost jumped out of his chest. "What the outfit, _____? Have you decided to take over the world?" asked Jin.

"Don't even ask, Jin. It was the worst two hours of my life. I had to smile and be nice to that asshole!" You threw your stiletto heels to the floor with force, taking out anger on it. "My credit card depended on that fucking date!" all the guys laughed. Jungkook breathed a sigh of relief realizing that it wasn't your desire to go on a date. "I want to get out of this horrible dress, I can't breathe. How girls voluntarily wear these tiny pieces of fabric."

"Don't be shy, you can undress here. We don't mind," chuckled Namjoon. "Very funny Namjoon" you abruptly replied "Jin, I'll take your T-shirt and shorts?"

"No problem, you know where my room is" replied Jin. Jungkook only silently watched your dialogue. After you left, the topic changed to a choice of food and alcohol. Getting up from his chair he went to the toilet. Before entering the bathroom, his gaze caught the door to Jin's room, which was not completely closed. Before he could stop himself he was already standing in front of the door looking into a thin gap. You stood with your back to the door taking off your dress. The sight of your naked skin stirred up to the limit of Jungkook. He turned sharply and walked away, going quickly into the bathroom. By locking the door he opened the tap washing with cold water his blushed face. "And what do you think you're doing, moron?" he asked himself. After few minute he came out of the bathroom and met you when you left the room. "Ooh Kooky, I'm sorry I was so angry that I didn't even say hello to you. Are you OK?" you asked with a smile. "Of course, nuna. Everything  great. I hope you're very tired playing the role of an obedient babygirl?" he asked, focusing as much as possible on the word 'babygirl' trying to sound sexy. But you just laughed at his words. You patted him on the shoulder saying, "Oh, you better not know about this, baby. Be glad that all your fans are against that you meet someone. It's a complete headache. Brrr" you shook your head dramatically. Together you went to the kitchen. You sat down at the table "This shame should be washed off with alcohol!" Everyone laughed. He sat down opposite taking non-alcoholic beer from the fridge. "Wow Kooky, you won't drink today" you asked taking a sip of strong alcohol. "Wrong mood for a drink today" he smiled.

"The first time I see you're not in the mood to drink" Jin said. The evening was fun after jokes and ridicule of each other, after a few hours the themes became more frank. "You're sure such topics can be discussed in front of children" you laughed at Jungkook. Another wave of anger went through it. 'And how I must react to this,' he thought to himself. "Nuna, stop treating me like a child, I'm actually a man!" he put on the table a can of beer with loud thud. You raised your hands up playing hard showing your surrender "Yes yes man, no one argues. Excuse me, mister Man, couldn't you give me a bottle of water from the fridge?" you asked in a stern voice. Your behavior caused a loud laugh. He dropped his head on the table trying to regain his composure. Getting up from the table, he went to the bathroom. He heard behind the sarcastic jokes in his address, but tried not to pay attention to it.

After skipping the bathroom, he went into his room and fell on the bed. He punched a pillow. 'And what I must do with it? Why the hell didn't I go to practice?' He got used to taunts from hyungs, then why are your comments hurting him so much? Thoughts were swirling in his head. His excited dick interfered all evening. Your bare back and perfect ass was still standing in front of his eyes. He lay on the bed not wanting to leave the room, it was about 15 minutes before he realized that he had spent too much time here. After taking a deep breath he rose from the bed. "You must show that you are not a boy who does not know how to control emotions, but a grown man! Jungkook fighting!" he cheered himself up before leaving the room. Hearing a loud laugh from the kitchen his step sped off. Going into the kitchen, he did not immediately understand what was happening. Taehyung yelled at Namjoon, trying to outvoice their laughter, stomping his feet with anger "Hyung, so dishonest! You cheated! I'm not going to do that" Jungkook turned his eyes and saw you and Jin rolling the floor at laughing. "What's going on here?" he asked, sitting down on a chair. Namjoon turned his gaze "This kid lost to me but doesn't want to accept punishment!" he said pointing at Taehyung who was seething with anger. Jungkook froze when he felt a hand on his thigh. His head turned sharply in your direction. Climbing off the floor, you leaned on his thigh for balance. The dick immediately became hard. 'It's looks like you haven't tease me enough all night' thought to sweep through his head. You didn't even notice that action at a time when he couldn't even move. He mentally thanked Taehyung as all attention was riveted on him.

He stood up abruptly quickly towards the fridge. Taking out a bottle of cold water he took a few big sips bringing the thoughts in order. He almost jumped when Namjoon appeared next to him "Why are you so twitchy, it's everything okay?" said hyung to the maknae reaction. "Yes, hyung" quickly replied he put in place the water and taking a new can of beer. Namjoon took the raw egg and moved away from the fridge. "Time for punishment!" he angrily laughed by passing the egg to Taehyung "Oouh hyung.... So dishonest" still whined he. "Hey! Everything honestly, you didn't set any rules, so why now you denies everything!" said Jin sitting back on his chair. "Here it is! Be a man and take the punishment" you said. Now Jungkook understood what the punishment was and why Taehyung hissed with anger. "Isn't too children's games for play?" he asked. All four turned sharply at him. "I'm sorry, Mr. Man, for our childish behavior" you said bowing 90 degrees. Another wave of laughter made him regret that he had said anything at all. "Nuna, seriously..." He answered you. "Nuna seriously" Namjoon twisted his  voice to childish. "Hyung..." he turned his eyes to Namjoon. "Hyun" in a childish voice repeated Jin. "Psychos!" Jyngkook said opening the beer, and everyone laughed even louder. "Didn’t you talk about sexual adventures when I left? How did you get to the game with eggs?" he asked, trying to sound as calm as possible. "Oh my God... Mr Man said the word on 'S'!" with your hands covering your mouth, you whispered loudly in a playable manner. "We talked, but then Taehyung said he had sex more often than Namjoon. The loser has to smash an egg on his head" Jin said calmly, and Jungkook choked on a beer. He turned his eyes to Taehyung who hypnotized the egg, apparently hoping it would boil from his burning look. "Then what was Namjoon's cheating?" he asked Jin. "Taehyung didn't say that masturbation is not considered sex, which is why he lost!" everyone laughed again. "Taehyung just do it and we keep having fun " said you drinking from your glass. He broke the egg hard and the spray squirted in all directions. "Ohh you're a little bastard" hissed Jin wiping his face, because he was sitting next to, most of the egg put on him. After a verbal altercation and cleaning, everyone sat down again at the table returning to their drinks.

"So what about you, Mr. Man, tell us about your sexual adventures?" asked Jin. "Or apart from masturbation and tell nothing?" added Namjoon, raising an eyebrow. "I prefer to keep secret what's going on between me and my sexual partner!" he replied sharply to the hyungs' attacks. "Wow, what words we knew" you chuckled at his comment. "Okay let's not embarrass our cute maknae and changed the topic" said you updating your drink. "Why, Nuna, can we maybe hear about your sexual adventures?" 'Jungkook are you have completely get cranky, where you get this courage' he asked himself mentally, trying to be calm. "I'm afraid a sweet boy... Oh... I mean, Mr. Man, you missed my story while you went to the bathroom" you replied, he didn't even know to rejoice or be upset. On the one hand, he would have known about your preferences in sex, but on the other hand, he did not want to hear about your sex with another man. "Well, next time I'll definitely listen to your story" he said, looking you in the eye. "Yaah ... Our baby is quite an adult. I'm really surprised. Look how he spoke" patted him on the back Namjoon. "I've been an adult a long time ago, but for some reasons you don't want to notice it" he said still looking at you.

"Okay okay... Let's have a drink! Everyone has become too much serious" said Jin attracting the attention into himself. The rest of the evening passed quietly for stories of funny cases. Everyone drank, laughed and played different games. Taehyung went off first to sleep after drinking too much. After a while, Namjoon also left. There are three of you left. Jin was telling some funny story about you at school. Jungkook was sitting there hoping that hyung, too, would soon go to bed leaving you two. But his plan was broken when you said you were going home. He didn't want to coax you too hard, but even if he can do it, he don't think he'd be able to be alone with you. "Have you already summoned a sober driver?" asked Jin distracting him from his thoughts. "Not yet, I'll call from the parking lot, I want to get some fresh air while I wait" you said "So don't see me off and go to bed. When I'll be home and I'll write you, Jin".

“Why you so want to get rid of us, are you sure that you will call a sober driver? You can not answer, I will leave the question open, "Jin asked with a grin.

"You think too much, oppa!"

"Oh my God! It seemed to me or you first called me ‘oppa '!” said Jin, pretending surprise on his face. “Baby, it seems you are really very drunk or I'm right about the fact that the call will be someone else”

"Shut your mouth, crazy!" you clapped on his back.

“Ohhh ... this looks more like you!” Jin answered, dodging your punches.

Jungkook sat and watched you with a smile. Your laughter was echoing somewhere deep inside. And how can he make you see him as a man? His gaze is wandering over your body. He imagined holding his hand under a wide T-shirt clutching your boobs. 'Crazy, crazy! What are you thinking about now' he scolded himself when the dick twitched in his pants. 'You must calm down,' he repeated to himself.

"That's it! Okay, I'm not going to ask you anything else, and I'm not even going to escort you to the car! And I'm going to go to bed, I don't care, do whatever you want!" pretended to be angry Jin

“Oppa ...” you leaned on the table, pouted your lips and clapped eyelashes, posing as a cutie. “Well, don't be mad at me, oppa!” you said in a sweet voice. From this spectacle, Jungkook simply lost his speech. He looked at you with wide eyes, not believing that this was actually happening, and not in his imagination.

"Buuee..." Jin pretended to be throw up. "End this, _____! I'm really going to throw up. Kooky, have you seen this? She's completely barmy"

"Yaaah... Want to die, you jerk!" you shouted.

A second later the kitchen filled with laughter. "Wow, nuna, I didn't know you could be such a cutie" Jungkook said through a laugh.

"You have no idea how cute she can be, especially when she needs something" Jin replied.

"Tssss... Didn't betray my secrets!" you answered, and Jungkook laughed harder.

"Now I'll know she could be so dangerous" he replied.

“So I'm leaving! Get down already to sleep! I’ll come home - I’ll write, "you said, and went into the living room for a bag. He watched your every move, not wanting to let you go. But what could he do?

They led you to the door, putting on the first slippers you got, you looked up at Jin “I'll borrow that too. I'll back it with your clothes” you said, raising your stilettos. “I don’t think I can go now in these shoes. Moreover, they don’t fit my design outfit" by scrolling you showed your outfit as a model: black basketball shorts that lost a colour from time and a stretched cotton t-shirt, one edge of which was tucked into shorts. You curtey finished your little fashion show. "You can leave it for yourself, this 'designer outfit' really suits you. Although the next time I advise you to put on your heels, it will be look super fashionable! ” said Jin panting with laughter.

Jin hugged you and said “Good night, nuts! Write me when you get home "  

Jungkook envied that you and Jin were so close and could hug each other.

"Night, night, let you have nightmares," you said, posing as zombies. "DAMN, get home already" said Jin pretending to shove you out of the apartment.

"Good night, nuna!" said Jungkook, watching you fool around with Jin. "Good night, Kooky! You, unlike him, let have good dreams" you smiled at him " That's it! Now I'm definitely leaving! Bye"

Jin closed the door. Turned, two guys went to the bedrooms. Jin wished quietly the night before closing the door to his room.

He went into his room and stared at the empty bed. Within a second he grabbed his phone and wallet, ran to the exit. He quickly shoes out of the apartment. After reaching the elevators, he pressed the buttons "please, please, please..." he prayed. One bodice was still on his floor on this door immediately opened. Running inside he continued to press the parking button as if it helped the elevator to go faster. He was hoping you didn't have time to call anyone yet. He knew you always left the car in the open parking lot, you liked to look at the stars while you were waiting for the driver or taxi. Arriving at the parking lot he almost flew out of the elevator, he ran through the parking lot with maximum speed. 'It's so good I didn't drink today' Having reached your car, he stopped a couple of meters away, levelling his breath. He looked ahead and saw you lying on the hood looking up. ‘Interestingly, you already managed to call someone or not’ this thought was spinning in his head. Completely catching his breath he went toward the car.

"Nuna, why are you still here?" he asked trying to look surprised.

"Ooh... Why don't you sleep?"

"Unlike you, I haven't had a drink today, so I don't think I'll be able to sleep so fast. So I decided to go for a walk before going to bed, especially the weather is so good" he replied.

"Yes the weather is really great. I already wanted to call the driver, but the wind was so refreshing that I decided to first enjoy the night sky lying down on the hood. Although it must have been longer than I thought once even if you've gone for a walk" you said looking up into the sky. He was glad you thought you were lying here too long, and he didn't run right behind you.

He breathed a sigh of relief 'not yet calling the driver' it seems as long as luck is on his side. Sitting next to you on the hood, he was finally able to relax, he still had a chance to spend time alone with you.

"Nuna, I was still want going for a walk and if you want I'll able to drive you at home" he said getting up and making a bow to "For regular customers we do good discounts, madam" He smiled when you laughed.

"Well, if you make good discounts for regular customers, sir, I'll be happy to use your service," you said with a laugh. When you found the key in the bag, you handed it over. "Please take care of my car" you said make bow. Now he laughed at how cute you were at that moment. He still couldn't believe you agreed so easily. He wondered if you could hear how badly his heart was pounding. He was glad you were drunk enough and didn't crack down on his lies.

"Nuna, can we go or do you still want to admire the sky?" he asked again sitting next to you. You lay down on the hood, and he followed suit. He felt your elbow touch his arm slightly. Your warm skin and the smell of your perfume were react heat in his underpants. He sincerely hoped that his dick did not protrude from his pants too much.

"Let's lie for another five minutes. The sky is too beautiful to be in a hurry somewhere" you replied. He rejoiced in this opportunity to be so close to you. Maybe he can get you to lie in his arms one day. 'Too much you want, Jungkook, she doesn't even see you as a man' he replied to his own thoughts. But now he was just happy about it.

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Part: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [extra]

LIST

[elemental-daddy-neos]

Since I was tagged a while ago for a post I’ve done before, I figured I would make another one since I’ve seen one more Yugioh series than I had back then, so here’s the tag meme My first response can be found here

Tagged by: @asterism343​ Since I’ve answered these before, my responses will be a lot simpler this time around

Favorite series: I may have changed my icon and my header, but it is still in fact GX. Arc-V is where my current main focus lies because I’m always thinking about aus that actually make use of the lost potential in Arc-V, but GX will always hold the spot at number one for me. Favorite protagonist: Still Jaden. Dumb baby boy deserves the world after what he went through in his series. He is good, despite his crimes. Favorite rival: It’s gotta be The Chazz (god kill me), but the runner up is still Shark for me. Love those dumb gay idiots who are only soft for their rivals. Favorite bff: It’s such a hard call between Joey and... Actually, who is supposed to be Yusei’s best friend? I always just assumed it was Crow because he’s definitely the nicer brother when it comes to him and Jack, but I guess it could also be Kiryu? Or Bruno? I legitimately had a hard time telling which boy was supposed to be placed into the archetype of best friend for that show, so I’ll be right back after a quick google search.

Lmao this whore is not Yusei’s best friend- Anyways it’s a hard call between Joey and Crow when it comes to the best of the best friends, but I think I have to pick Crow once again. It’s a very close tie though.

Favorite girl: Sticking with Yuzu on this one tbh. I went through a few opinions on her over the course of Arc V, and I ended up just kinda wishing they’d let her do more. I can say with confidence she’s the main girl that has irked me the least, and I even kind of liked her as the show went on. She was just very underutilized past a certain point.

Favorite villain: This whore alien

I’ve talked at length about Vector in several posts, and no I will not stop using “I’m positively dripping” whenever I get the chance to, thank you for asking. He remains my favorite villain in design and personality, but let it not be forgotten that I also 100% wish they had killed this bitch off. I love him, but I wish he were dead. It’s what he deserves.

Favorite card: Honestly? Right now my current favorite card is Cheer Mole!

She just makes me really happy. Sweet shy mole baby that’s scared of people, but will perform when she’s gotta. I love her.

Favorite episode: I’m doing this by series, so here’s my list -Season 0: Episode 16: Turnabout by a Hair’s Breadth - The White-Robed Crisis -Duel Monsters: Season 5, episode 12-14: The Deciding Match for Duel King - Yugi vs. Leon/Golden Castle of Stromberg/KC Grand Prix Ends -GX: Season 3, episode 34: Dark Fusion! Inferno Wing!! -5Ds: Season 4, episode 2-3: Recollections, Entrusted with a Friend’s Dying Wish -Zexal II: Season 2, episode 5-6: Alito the Silent Fighter - Reunion of the Passionate Duelists!/ Be Revived! The Duelist Soul That Transcends Life!! -Arc-V: Season 1, episode 19-20: The Universe of Knowledge!! Eita Kyuando/A Difficult Question!? Attack Duel Quiz!!

Since the Arc-V ones are the only new addition here, I’m just gonna go ahead and say that it was admittedly hard for me to come up with an episode for this series. Most didn’t have a positive emotional impact on me as a whole- the episodes I Could think of either made me upset or angry (or they were the gay candyshipping ones in the beginning), so I had to scroll through the Arc-V anime channel in my Discord for ideas of what to pick. The quiz duels are some genuinely funny episodes that I would rewatch someday just to laugh. Yuya is really stupid in them and I get to hear him say “I want your lifespan?” in Japanese, and it’s just a good time all around. It’s simple, it’s fun, and it makes me laugh.

Favorite decks to use:  Elemental Heroes, Aromages, Red Eyes, Six Samurai, Gem Knights, and Crystal Beasts.  

Fusion, ritual, synchro, Xyz, pendulum, or link: Fusion Freak and XYZ Scum

Years in fandom: ??? A mystery to all. Used to be big on Yugioh in middle school, wrote a couple fanfics, then I fell out of it until April of this year, 2020.

Who I’m tagging: @finding-fallen-stars​ (I know you’ve done this before but now we’ve both seen Arc-V, so maybe your thoughts on a favorite episode will be better than mine lmao), @yuki-motou​, and @angelmelany​

[kittinoir]

Echoes of You Ch. 2

Read on Ao3

Marinette sprinted down the stairs two at a time, holding onto the railing to keep herself from pitching down them altogether. She’d stopped by the ladies room to make sure there was nothing stuck in her teeth or that her bangs weren’t doing that weird v-split thing and had lost track of the time trying to come up with things to talk about with Adrien. 

By the time she checked her phone, she discovered her preparation had been for nothing; she was running late and would have to run to be on time, meaning she’d be flustered, sweaty, and messy by the time she showed up.

Except she wasn’t sweaty, or flustered. A little windswept, sure, but the short sprint didn’t seem to wear her out at all. Maybe all these months of being chronically late to everything had whipped her into better shape than she’d realized.

They’d done nothing at all for her reflexes, she realized suddenly as the toe of her shoe caught on the frame of the front door and pitched her face-first into the pavement.

Marinette squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the sting of the scrapes she was sure to get on her hands, but just before she was sure to hit the ground, she felt hands grab her, using her momentum to pull her back up.

“You ok there, Marinette?”

Marinette slowly opened her eyes and found herself face to face with Adrien. A blush began to creep across her cheeks, but it didn’t get too far. Her name was practically synonymous with clumsiness; it wasn’t really a secret. Besides, after the mishap with constipation prescription, it was getting harder and harder to be embarrassed. Although now that she thought about it, she couldn’t quite remember how that mix up had happened in the first place.

“Yeah, just clumsy,” Marinette said. She had to tilt her head to look up at him and suddenly realized he still had his arms around her, as though she might collapse like a house of cards if he let go. She was beginning to think she might. “Are we, um, ready to flow? Go! I mean, ready to go?”

Adrien laughed, finally releasing her. “Yeah, we are. Here comes the car now.”

Marinette tugged on her bangs as she followed Adrien to his car, hoping against hope her wild ride hadn’t messed them up too badly. She looked up to see Adrien waiting by the door, gesturing for her to slide in first. She bit her lip as she slipped inside as memories of the last time she’d been in the car came back. Adrien had said he was in love with another girl, nearly crushing her hopes altogether, except…for some reason she hadn’t quite given up on him. Besides, she couldn’t imagine any girl saying no to Adrien but none of the sites or blogs she followed had said he’d asked anyone out. 

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Marinette lurched in her seat as Adrien broke her reverie. “Um, just remembering the trip to the wax museum,” she said. She felt the blush come back stronger this time. She bit her lip, wishing she’d come up with anything else. It was the last thing she wanted to talk about.

“Oh, yeah.” Adrien slid down a little in his seat. “That was crazy. Remember when we thought Hawk Moth had shown up in the museum?”

“I��” Marinette blinked, searching her memories. She remembered Alya and Nino conspiring to leave them alone together, Manon’s embarrassing comments, and the conversation on the car ride home, but…

“Oh, I’m sorry, Marinette,” Adrien blurted, misreading her confusion. “I didn’t mean to… are you feeling any better since this morning?”

In truth, she hadn’t had time to worry about it. Things with Chloe had been tenser than usual; even Adrien had been cold toward her. It had unnerved Marinette. She hadn’t thought Adrien was cold to anyone, even people who maybe deserved it.

But Chloe had just…accepted it. She’d sat alone at the back of the class, forsaking her usual front row spot for solitude. Marinette might not have even noticed if it hadn’t been for the daggers everyone had been staring back at her. She’d tried asking Alya, but her friend had only said Chloe had finally taken it one step too far and left it at that after giving her a puzzled frown, as though she should have known. 

Unease had crept through her, but it had drifted away just as quickly when the teacher called on her to answer the question on the board. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time Chloe had pushed the envelope. Marinette expected her father would have soothed the ruffled feathers by the next day.

“Kind of,” Marinette finally said. Could she tell him? Could she mention those intangible gaps in her memory, that elusive feeling of sheer…sorrow that seemed to haunt her whenever something seemed to slip through her fingers. “I think something’s wrong… I’m having trouble - ”

The car door opened abruptly, nearly dumping Marinette onto the sidewalk. She hadn’t realized she’d been leaning against the door - or that the car had come to a stop.

“You’re not Adrien.” The woman looking down at Marinette as she hung halfway out of the car look as if all she’d done for lunch that day was suck lemons. Marinette could feel her gaze burning holes in her skin, but instead of shrinking back like she wanted to, some inner strength drove her to meet the woman’s gaze head-on without flinching.

“I’m right here, Dominique,” Adrien said as he exited the car and came around to Marinette’s side. “This is my friend, Marinette. She’s with me today.”

Dominique sniffed as Marinette righted herself and stepped out of the car as well. “Very well. As long as she is not a distraction.”

Dominique turned without waiting for a response and started for the tall glass and metal building where the shoot was taking place. Marinette hid a giggle behind her hand as Adrien rolled his eyes at Dominique back. She felt a rush of warmth as he winked at her; she’d never seen this side of him. It had never occurred to her that modelling might not be what he wanted to do or that it was something he didn’t enjoy.

“See you in a bit,” Adrien said when Dominique paused outside hair, makeup, wardrobe. “Dominique will take you to the set.” His green eyes briefly flicked to the stern assistant. “Make sure she get a front row seat? I’m sure as a Gabriel intern, my father would want to make sure she makes the most of this experience.”

Dominique’s demeanour changed almost instantly. “Intern? You never said - ”

“I was sure you were already aware,” Adrien cut in smoothly. “I mean, you seem to have everything so in hand.”

“I do,” Dominique said with a small cough. “I do. I knew she was coming, I just thought she’d be…older.”

Marinette had to turn her face and bite her lip to keep herself from straight up laughing. She stared at a spot on the floor, knowing if she risked a glance at Adrien’s face it would all be over. 

“I’ll see you in a bit, Marinette,” she heard him say. “Make sure to take lots of notes.”

“I will,” she said, finally looking up. She could see laughter dancing in his eyes and struggled to keep her face a mask of calm. “Can’t wait to see the collection.”

Marinette covered a short laugh with a cough as Adrien disappeared and she followed Dominique to set. Adrien had lied for her - and he’d been surprisingly good at it. He had a devious side. Just when she thought she could love him anymore, he turned around and proved her wrong. 

“You may wait here,” Dominique said, indicating a chair near the photographers’ station. “If you need anything, please, don’t hesitate to let me know.”

“Thank you, Dominique,” Marinette said, draping her bag across the back of the chair. The assistant hurried off without so much as another word. Marinette pulled out the sketchbook she’d packed and sank into the chair as she took in the set, the tip of her pencil poised on the paper.

The set mimicked a beach, with actual sand spilled across the bottom of the backdrop and across the floor. The backdrop itself was printed with the image of a sunset on the ocean. Palm trees flanked the sides of the set, and a beach ball and beach chair were set up to the side as props. 

Marinette swallowed hard as she alternately sketched and glanced around the room. Adrien had said the collection wasn’t exciting, but was that because it was simple - because it was swim wear? She wasn’t entirely sure where her confidence had come from, but she was pretty sure it wasn’t solid enough to withstand seeing her crush up close and personal without a shirt on.

But what if it was? What if the next three hours would be swim suits? Worse, what if she he was modelling with someone else? Heat flashed across Marinette’s face; what if it was Lila? She couldn’t remember the girl bragging about something like that, but then, she wouldn’t unless she had some manufactured proof to go with it.

Marinette gripped her pencil so hard it almost snapped. She’d never thought her temper was particularly volatile, but she was finding it hard to keep it under control now. A small part of her shook at her own wrath, at how overwhelming it felt. What was it about this girl that made her this angry? Why? Betrayal. She felt betrayal. At first Marinette thought it was about her friends, how they chose to believe Lila over her, but she quickly realized it was about Lila herself, but why? The girl had never done anything other than what she’d always promised to do, so -

Before Marinette could follow the thought further, the lights above the set came to life, so bright they bathed the studio in manufactured heat. The various grips and lighters and prop handlers that had been milling about talking on headsets suddenly began to rush to their positions, coffee cups in hand. 

An unexpected wave of loneliness swept over Marinette, at once cold and unfamiliar. Her sketch book began to slide off her lap, and she realized she’d unconsciously moved her hand to her purse. She saved her sketchbook, resettling it on her lap just as a door across the room opened and Adrien appeared with Dominique.

Marinette’s heart leapt as it always did when he entered a room, like the sun finally breaking through the clouds. His gaze briefly settled on her, and she felt herself grinning in response to the wink he sent her way. Something about it struck a chord of a familiarity, like they were co-conspiritors in on a joke together. 

To her surprise, Adrien was not dressed in swimwear, as she’d feared, but in a three-piece suit. It looked immaculate on him, of course - what didn’t, she couldn’t help but think. The photographer must have decided to go for a juxtaposition between a casual set and formal attire. It would certainly stand out. 

Despite Adrien’s warning that it would be boring, Marinette found it to be anything but. Watching Adrien work was amazing, but she found herself being sucked in by the photographer and seamstresses that were on hand. Adrien seemed to know what poses his father would prefer, but every so often the photographer would direct him or the seamstresses would point out a key detail in one of the garments. Marinette found herself analyzing the construction, the style, the technique more than she was fawning over the boy wearing them. 

Adrien had just disappeared to change into yet another suit when a boom shook the building. Marinette fell to her hands and knees as her chair toppled. She glanced up and flung herself into a clumsy drive, swallowing a scream as a light fixture crashed to the floor right where she’d fallen. People around her were covering their heads and diving for cover, but she was surprised to find that most of them seemed rather calm. They huddled together, waiting for the shaking to subside, but otherwise their faces were set in lines of grim determination, not fear. Not like her. 

Marinette looked up as a laugh echoed throughout the room. Nausea rolled through her stomach as she tried to make sense of what she saw, but she was beginning to wonder if that lighting fixture hadn’t whacked her on the head after all.

It was a girl, dressed in what Marinette could only describe as a ball gown that looked like a giant, lilac-coloured cloud, which she guessed was fitting because the girl was floating in mid air in front of a jagged hole in the ceiling. Marinette honestly couldn’t say what was more bizarre about her: her apparent disregard for gravity, or the baseball sized sewing needle in her hands. 

[splat-dragon]

In which Jumin doesn't understand sarcasm, and the MC discovers she married an idiot. And V's there to laugh at them, too.

“What do you wish for, for Christmas?”

 A man's deep, rumbling purr of a voice broke the comfortable silence that cloaked the spacious penthouse. At a glance, the penthouse was obviously owned by someone of considerable wealth. Real wood and expensive looking appliances and furniture overran it. Two people, a man and a woman, rested atop a soft-looking pure white couch. The man was dressed in a tailored, three-piece suit, clearly fresh from the office. His raven-black hair was stylishly tousled, his bangs covering the corner of a silver eye. He sat with one leg stretched out, resting on a wood and glass coffee table, the other crossed over his knee.

 In his lap the girl rested her head, eyes closed. Her skin was as pale as milk, a light dusting of freckles highlighting high cheekbones. She wore a simple white blouse, tucked loosely into a pair of black trousers. The man's long fingers carded through her elbow-length brown hair.

 A pair of emerald eyes were revealed when she slowly opened them, blinking up at him owlishly. “What?” she slurred sleepily, nuzzling into him.

 “Christmas is only a few weeks away, MC, and I don't know what to gift you. What would you like? I'll get you anything.” He moved one of his hands to lightly caress her cheek lovingly.

 “Jumin,” she laughed, a sound like tinkling bells, “I have everything I could ever want. All I want for Christmas is to spend time with you.”

 Jumin frowned slightly, furrowing his brow. “MC,” the way he said her name was more serious than before. “Of course I will take off so I can spend the holidays with you. But it's our first Christmas together. I will give you the world if you ask it.” His tone made it obvious he wouldn't accept a no.

 MC snorted, and shook her head, allowing her eyes to drift shut as she rested her head on his lap. He gently shook her shoulder before she could drift off once more, and when she opened them her eyes were dark with irritation. “A pony, then,” she grumbled sarcastically, “if you insist on this, I want a pony for Christmas.”

 Having said that, she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep, completely unaware of her husband, whom had a thoughtful look on his face. As she lost consciousness, he grabbed his phone from the side table and began to type.

  That Christmas morning was a cold one. Temperature gauges dropped well below freezing, and the wind cut right through anyone fool enough to step outside. A sprinkling of snow dusted the ground, just enough to make everything glitter as though covered in innumerable tiny crystals. Even the sky seemed to shine, despite being a clean celeste slate.

 MC had already given Jumin his gift (a beautifully made watch with Elizabeth carved into the face), and they'd sat down together to drink hot chocolate and share various treats. She couldn't help but to be curious, however, as he continually checked his phone. It couldn't be the RFA, she knew, as they'd all come to an agreement to not use the chatroom on Christmas and, instead, they would discuss everything Christmas-related on the day after. This way they could enjoy their time together with their significant others and/or each other, in the case of Zen and Jaehee, as the cafe owner still had yet to gather the courage to confess but had offered him a free meal to eat together.

 At fifteen until two, his phone vibrated audibly. Jumin flicked on the phone, darted through the message, and leaped to his feet. He stepped forward, extracting the scalding hot hot chocolate from her hands and gently tugged on her wrist.

 MC stood from the couch, watching him in bewilderment. “Jumin-?”

 In quick strides that she struggled to match, he hurried to the coat rack and slipped hers on her shoulders. He quickly followed with her ruby mittens, and then a matching scarf, wrapping it snugly around her neck. He urged her to step into her boots as well, taking the time it took her to button them up to dress himself in his emerald winter-wear.

 “Jumin, where are we going?”

 He ignored the question, taking her by the hand once more and leading her out the door. The executive director tugged her down the hall, and into the elevator. There she attempted to question him again, only to receive more silence.

 If she was honest, he looked... excited, almost. A youthful glee softened his features; the corner of his lips curled up in a barely-contained smile, his steely eyes had softened into something more like mercury, and he was even rocking slightly on his heels.

 The metallic doors slid open, and he quickly pulled her outside. Driver Kim stood at the curb, reclining slightly against the door of the limo. Seeing them, he straightened, bowing low and opening their door.

 Before Jumin could pull her in, MC tugged away. “Jumin Han! I am not going anywhere until you tell me what's going on!” She scowled, and he was briefly reminded of an indignant kitten, puffed up and angry, with her hands on her hips.

 The emerald-clad man smiled at her fondly, catching her about the hips and tugging her to him, kissing her forehead. “MC,” he purred, hiding his smile against her pale skin, “I have a surprise for you. Please, just play along.”

 MC eyed him warily, furrowing her brow, but in the end shook her head exasperatedly, clambering into the spacious limousine. 'I tell him not to get me anything, but does he listen? No.' His large hands suddenly closed around her wrists, pulling her so that she was leaning against him, half in his lap. He wrapped his arm around her head in a way such that his forearm blocked her vision. “Jumin?”

 He chuckled quietly, the soft gust of his breath against the sensitive shell of her outer ear making her jump. “I told you, it's a surprise. If you could see where we were going, you'd know what it is. Although, you should know already.”

  'How can I know already? I told him I didn't want anything.'

 It was a long drive, perhaps three quarters of an hour, with many twists and turns. However, the smoothness that told her that they were still on the well-maintained tarmac suddenly turned into a fairly bumpy drive that had Jumin adjusting his hold on her several times.

  'We must be miles out from the city if they don't maintain the roads; where are we going?'

 Not long after, the limousine stopped and she heard Driver Kim's door swing open and click shut, followed by his oddly-muffled footsteps. The door next to her opened, and he helped Jumin get her out without allowing her to see where they had stopped.

 “Only a little longer, Princess.” Jumin murmured in her ear, and placed his other hand at the small of her back. “The path is a bit uneven, so allow me to guide you.”

 As they walked forward, she took several deep breaths to try and discern where they might be. The air seemed to lack any of the pollution of the city, no gasoline fumes choking her breath. Faintly she could smell flowers and... was that hay?

 He tucked her into himself further, preventing her from hearing by pushing her ears into his coat and the crook of his elbow. They were close enough that the noises would spoil the surprise.

 Jumin quickly opened a gate when they approached it, herding her inside. The metal gate clanged against the wooden fence as he closed and latched it once more. Turning her to face the large building in front of them, he removed his arm from her ear, careful to keep her eyes covered.

 “I am going to go inside to get your present, Princess. I want you to keep your eyes closed, alright?” Saying so, he slowly removed his arm from around her.

 “Yes Jumin,” MC nodded, clapping her hands over her eyes as he removed his limb. She could hear him walking away, and then the sound of a heavy door. The urge to look was strong, but she didn't want to break his trust or disappoint him.

 “NEIGH!”

 “What?!” His wife yelped, jumping slightly. No, no way, no how, she did not just hear a horse. Jumin surely wasn't that crazy... was he?

 “Surprise! You can open your eyes!” Her husband's voice boomed from in front of her, and she jumped again. MC jerked her hands away, only to return them to rub the harsh sunlight from her eyes. Slower this time, she opened them.

 And stared.

  'Yup. That's a horse.'

 Well, horse wasn't really the right word. He looked to be full grown, but was just shy of her shoulder. So, a pony.

  'What. The. Fuck.'

 It stood perhaps fifty-and-some-change inches tall, looking ridiculously short next to her giant of a husband. It was a mount worthy of a princess, with gleaming white fur and what she assumed to be a fine build. It wore a gleaming red halter and lead rope, held carefully in Jumin's hand.

 As time went on and her eyes only got bigger and her jaw dropped wider, Jumin's wide grin began to fade. “Do... do you like it, Princess?”

 MC looked at him for a moment. She desperately wanted to say: 'Have you lost your mind?' or perhaps 'How many times were you dropped on your head as a child?' Or even 'What the hell is wrong with you?!' But, looking at his proud grin and puffed up chest, she couldn't find the heart to. Instead she forced a wide smile onto her lips, and said: “I love it, Jumin!”

 Jumin cracked a wide grin, stepped forward to offer her the lead. She took it in a limp-wristed hand, still boggling at the beast.

 “His name is Sir Maximillian the Eighth.”

 At the sound of the familiar voice, trembling with mirth, MC's head snapped up, meeting V's gaze. The photographer had a purse-lipped smile, and amusement was written all over his features. She glared at him balefully, and he coughed to cover up a laugh.

 “Merry Christmas, MC. Jumin asked if I wouldn't mind taking some photographs of.. this.” He waved at the two of them. “Now, Jumin, step out of the way so I can get them both in the shot.”

 The tall man strode to stand by his childhood friend's side, watching proudly as V commanded her to look into the pony's eyes. She tugged on the halter, pulling his head up to meet her gaze. Intelligent brown eyes seemed to say: “You've married an idiot.”

 MC chuckled shakily and, as the camera shutter clicked in the background, whispered to the poor pony: “I've married an idiot.”

[blueeyeswhitegarden]

Arc V Anniversary Day 16

Day 16: Most angsty headcanons

I usually don't go for angst with my headcanons, but I can think of a few of them for this prompt. Yuto and Ruri's parents, or the people who they believed were their parents, died well before the Heartland Invasion. Yuto, Shun and Ruri were quite young when it happened so they don't have a lot of memories of their parents. They remember some feelings and can recall hazy images of their parents from when they were little kids, but they barely remember them. They grew up in different foster homes in Heartland. Yuto's foster parents weren't perfect, but they were pretty nice and that was a big reason why Zarc's influence didn't have a stronger hold on Yuto despite how he didn't meet Ruri until they were teenagers. Shun and Ruri's foster parents were a bit more difficult by comparison, especially for Shun. Ruri got along with them just fine, but Shun's increasingly angry attitude got him into some intense arguments with his foster parents, which only just intensified his attitude problem. They all passed on shortly before the Heartland Invasion as well. Because of the stress and trauma of fighting against Academia for about a year, they weren't able to properly grieve for their foster parents until after the events of the series.

Yuri and Serena's brief meeting as children did have a lingering impact on them. Despite how Leo kept them separated, they remembered each other for quite awhile. There wouldn't have been enough time for an instant connection like what happened with Yuto and Ruri, especially when Academia wasn't the most ideal environment for any child to grow up in, but there was a spark between them that they couldn't quite explain. They remembered each other's faces for a long time before the memories faded away. Even the feeling they had upon their brief meeting disappeared over time, which is one reason why Yuri had no problem kidnapping the other Bracelet Girls, why he didn't react differently when he tried to capture Serena in the Synchro Dimension and why Serena didn't recognize Yuya as Yuri when she first met him.

Since Reira wasn't split into four pieces from using the En Cards like what happened to Zarc and Ray, she pretty much has all of her memories of what was basically her previous life. Sometimes she'll have dreams where she remembers her time with the Lancers, bonding with Yuya and especially her strong connection with Reiji. But sometimes she'll have nightmares where she remembers the war she was in prior to being adopted by Himika. The images become a bit hazy, but the feelings of tread are extremely strong whenever she has these nightmares. Fortunately, Reiji is always close by and he gives Reira a new teddy bear in order to help her sleep better at night. It will get easier for Reira to process these memories as she gets older and Yuya helps out as another big brother for Reira as well to help her smile, but those nightmares can get pretty intense for infant Reira.

Just as Yuya eventually regains his memories as Zarc, Yuzu regains more of her memories as Ray over time. It starts off with remembering her duels against other professional duelists and then defeating Zarc, but soon she remembers her relationship with Leo. Yuzu fully acknowledges that Shuzo is her father and he becomes even an even more devoted father after the events of the series. He can be a bit overprotective given that he almost lost his precious daughter, but Yuzu knows that it's out of love and they spend more time together as a result. But Yuzu remembers that Ray and Leo had a good relationship too. She remembers just how happy they were together, how often they'd talk in-between Ray's duels and Leo's scientific research and why Ray took the En Cards in the first place. Leo wanted to atone for his mistake by sacrificing himself, but Ray couldn't bare the thought of living in a world without her father. Ray never knew her mother, so losing Leo was too much for her to bare in a world that was already in ruins. Yuzu deeply empathizes with these memories since she would do the same thing for Shuzo. These feelings are intense and she has tried to talk to Leo about these memories, even though everyone else, especially Yuya and Shuzo, are always worried when she makes these attempts, but Leo refuses. After everything he did as the leader of Academia, he recognizes that he doesn't deserve to talk to Yuzu. That would potentially offer more closure for him, but Leo knows that he has to deal with losing Ray on his own and not find another instant solution.

Much like Yuya, Yuzu accepts that she is Ray and Yuzu at the same time, so she does accept these memories as her own. She just has a mixed view on Leo. He was the man who kidnapped her, forced her to merge with her counterparts and whose actions nearly destroyed the world twice, but he is also the man who was a loving, caring and devoted father in another life. Reiji sympathizes with Yuzu since he had to deal with similar mixed feelings after his father abandoned him. Reiji has let go of his anger towards his father, but thinking about the man who started the dimensional war was the same man who he respected as his father was difficult to deal with. Even after the events of the series, knowing that his father abandoned him and his mother to chase after the ghost of a half sister Reiji never knew about stings for him. Despite Leo's refusal to meet with Yuzu, she still makes the efforts in the hope that he’ll finally have the courage to talk to her and start moving forward just as she does by living as Yuzu.

[likethetailofacomet]

The Broken Bits, Chapter Four:

Been Gone Such A Long Time 

A/N: Who is V the bartender????

Word Count: 3,465

Tunes: Missing, The XX 

Vanna bumped the door open with her hip as she hastily tied her long brown hair in a ponytail. The bell above the door jingled, but the noise of Saturday night swallowed the sound of the bell. Someone was very drunkenly singing “Don’t Stop Believing”, a small group of equally drunken fans gathered near the stage to cheer him on. Ugh, that’s right, it’s karaoke night, she thought as she finished her pony tail and hurried toward the bar. She was only ten minutes late, but the backup had already started at the drink station, and she winced at the look Jay shot her from behind the mixing tin he was shaking furiously- far more vigorously than a martini called for, he was bruising the gin on purpose by the look of it. He shook the container in one hand and haphazardly garnished a long island iced tea with the other by plopping a lemon wheel in it, the dark liquid sloshing out over the top of the glass and onto the rubber spill mat below. Vanna slipped past a group of bachelorettes and lifted the trap door to enter the bar area, an apologetic look on her face. “Sorry, Jay, the baby was-“

“Yeah, yeah, it’s all good, V, just get over here and start pouring beers.” Jay rolled his eyes before giving her a wink to prove that his 5 minutes of hating her were up.  He wasn’t really mad at her, it had just been a long night and Kayla, the opening bartender, had all but evaporated as soon as the clock struck ten having been at The Hippo since noon. She was supposed to wait for her relief to get there, but she had a date and Jay’s pleading did nothing to guilt her into staying past her shift time. Vanna smiled at him as she reached into the mug chiller for three cold glasses and began pouring Brooklyn Lagers, expertly tilting the glasses to create the perfect head of foam before sliding them down the bar to Jay at the drink station. The two worked seamlessly with Jay calling out beers and wine for Vanna to pour as they dug out from under the mountain of orders. When the crowd around the drink station had dispersed, the patrons properly plied and ready to make fools out of themselves on stage, Vanna helped Jay get things back in order before the next wave hit.

“So, everything good with the kid?” Jay asked over his shoulder as he replenished the lime wedges from a container he’d pulled from a cooler under the bar.

Vanna laughed and shook her head. “Yeah, he’s fine.” She gestured with the towel in her hand. “Just at that age where everything is a fight, there’s always a tantrum to be thrown, and he seems to have a sixth sense for when I’m leaving. Kid was passed out, asleep and snoring, but as soon as I said goodbye to the babysitter and grabbed my keys he was awake and screaming.”

Jay chuckled. “Yeah, I remember when mine was like that.” He laughed again, using tongs to refill a jar of maraschino cherries. “Fiona used to switch” he snapped his fingers with a loud crack, “like a demon possessed her when I’d have to leave for work. Now?” he blew air through his lips and raised his tong hand. “Now I’m lucky if I get a “later, dad” It’s a phase, V, no worries.”

Vanna leaned against the shelving behind the bar and crossed her arms over her chest. “Well don’t tell me that.” Jay laughed. “Is it too much to ask for something in between tantrums and indifference?”

“Yeah, that doesn’t exist.” Jay finished filling the garnish bin and moved to lean against the shelving next to her. He wiped his hands on his apron before crossing his arms and gently nudging her with his shoulder as the group of bachelorettes took the stage for “Dancing Queen”. “So, uh, you hear from the kid’s dad recently? I know he was here to visit a few months back and then…I uh…I know that whole… attack thing happened and you said you had family there and…I’m rambling now. If you don’t want to answer just tell me to shut up.” He turned his head to smile sheepishly at her.

She felt her chest tighten at the mention of the attack, at the thought of him…at the thought of her family. He’d finally gotten in touch with her a full two days after the attacks, those two days passing like months while she waited to hear about the people she cared about. But it had been a quick, curt conversation that hadn’t made her feel much better at all. She sighed, ran a hand over the top of her head and grabbed the end of her ponytail, tugging and twisting it around her fingers. It was her nervous tic, and Jay noticed. “I…no, I haven’t heard anything since...”

Jay leaned over and gave her a one armed hug. “Sorry I brought it up, V, just…I care, that’s all. We don’t have to talk about it.”

“Thanks, Jay,” she leaned into his hug without uncrossing her arms. She knew that he was just trying to show interest, show support. He didn’t know all the ins and outs of her situation. He didn’t know the history of it…and he didn’t know she had a brother. As the group of cosmopolitan drowned girls on stage wound down their song, another wave of patrons started approaching the bar and their moment of reprieve was over. They resumed their positions at the drink station and in front of the taps, and Vanna was glad that she didn’t have to do much thinking to pour beers; she was at The Hippo, her mind was anywhere but.

She went on auto pilot, muscle memory taking over to pour the perfect 8oz servings of wine, her wrist tilting at the same angle each time, arm pulling upwards at the same point of each pour. This way her mind was free to wander from person to person, starting with Bertrand. He’d been the first man she’d fallen for, wide eyed and oblivious, like a deer caught in a hunter’s sights. He was serious and dignified, he stood for all of the things she admired about the nobility, all of the things she wanted but could never have. He’d promised her nothing, and they’d never talked about what their relationship meant if it meant anything at all. They hadn’t done much talking period, if she was being truthful with herself, spending their time alone with their hands roving under each other’s clothing, their lips leaving hot trails and little marks all over one another’s skin. She’d sighed his name into a kiss more frequently than she’d said it in any other manner; he’d pinned her to a wall, a bookcase, a door, more often then he’d stood before her and had a conversation. There wasn’t love to have been lost. He was the father of her child, and it had hurt that he didn’t want to give it a try, to see if they could be a family, find love where they’d found pleasure. He’d said it had been due to familial duties, and that was when she learned that she’d never be good enough for these people, and she didn’t want her child to live that way. She didn’t tell Bertrand about the baby because she didn’t want his pity, didn’t want him to see his son as a burden. She always planned to tell him someday, but someday when she could rightfully refuse any monetary aid he’d try to shove at her to assuage his guilt. She didn’t love him when she left Cordonia, and she didn’t love him now that he’d found her, now that he knew about Bartie. He’d said he wanted to be part of their lives, that since he’d found them he’d felt that he was missing half of himself. But she felt nothing other than relief that he wanted to be involved in Bartie’s life in a real way, and not just by writing a check. Since the attacks though, she’d heard nothing from him, and again, it hurt that this time he’d lied about wanting to be a part of their lives. Two strikes against him and he’d started off down in the count; That night, as she mechanically poured a glass of house red, she decided that she was done considering Bertrand Beaumont family.

Her thoughts went next to her mother. Before leaving Cordonia it had been almost ten years since she heard from Bianca Walker. She was vaguely aware of Jay calling for a Sam Adams and two Amstel Lights, and she poured them as she recalled the last time she’d spoken to her mother on the phone -on her 17th birthday. She hadn’t given any clue that it would be the last time they spoke, simply wished her daughter a happy birthday, told her she missed her, like always, and that she hoped she was doing well, that she was happy…like always. When Christmas came and went followed by New Year’s Eve without a call or card, she and Drake had started to worry. They’d reached out by phone only to find that Bianca had changed her number. They’d sent a letter that hadn’t been returned as undeliverable, so they knew that she hadn’t moved, knew that nothing had happened to her…she had simply just stopped being involved in their lives. The visits had stopped 2 years prior, the invites, 3, and she remembered the painful jumble of mixed feelings she had; my mother wants nothing to do with me, did I do something wrong? How could she just... she remembered the hot tears boiling in her eyes. She remembered Drake’s reaction when he saw how it was affecting her.

“Hey...Savvy,” he hadn’t used that nickname since they were much younger. Hearing it had made her eyes flick up to his as she exhaled slowly. “Screw her. You got me. Always.” She knew Drake must have been hurting just as much, knew he was probably angry and confused just like she was. But he was putting it all aside to take care of her. That’s what Drake did for the people he loved.

She’d given Bianca one last chance when she came to the states. She’d figured, even if they hadn’t spoken, or seen one another, even if Bianca hadn’t tried or even made it seem like she wanted to try, Savannah thought she’d want to know that she was going to be a grandmother. When she’d showed up at Bianca’s family ranch in Texas, she was struck first by the joyful resonance of the wind chime that hung from the porch. She watched, mesmerized as the thin metal rods dangled, swaying in the breeze and catching the sun as they clinked together. The sound and the shine of the sunlight hurdled her back in time to a visit nearly twenty years ago. She was 7, Drake 9, and they were bursting with excitement over the gift they’d made their mother, with Bastien’s help, of course. Bastien had cut the pieces of metal, letting Drake help him punch holes so that they could be strung from a small wooden disk that Savannah had painted. Their mother had beamed and carried on about how gorgeous it was and how lucky she was to receive such a beautiful and thoughtful gift, promising that it would grace her porch forever. The paint was faded and chipped, the wooden disk cracked and nearly split in two from years in the unrelenting Texas sun. But there it still hung. So she hasn’t forgotten about us… That thought and the dilapidated wind chime gave her the courage to walk up the porch steps and knock on the red screen door.

When her mother answered, however, that courage evaporated. The look on Bianca’s face was one of mixed fear, anguish and regret, swirled with a touch of defensiveness, and Savannah wished she could take back the knock, take back her trip to Texas, and go back to New York where it was easy to disappear into the crowd. “Savvy…” she gasped, but quickly regained her composure. “What are you doing here?” the woman asked her, propping the door open just enough to speak, not enough to be welcoming. She crossed her arms over her chest as her graying hair danced on the breeze.

Savannah didn’t know how to answer, so she blurted out, “Just thought you’d like to know you were going to be a grandmother. Just thought you’d like to know that your children are still alive.” She heard the venom in her voice and it both surprised her and didn’t- she was hurt, again, let down, again, by the woman before her. “But I was wrong, I guess, huh?” Bianca said nothing, but Savannah caught her eyes flick up to the wind chime. “This was a mistake…” she followed Bianca’s gaze to the chime before crossing the porch and reaching up to remove the chime from the hook that had been screwed into the porch’s wooden roof. Without a word, she took the chime and turned her back on her mother, climbing into the cab of the truck she’d rented. She drove and drove, tears falling and curses flowing. Bianca Walker wasn’t family anymore.

Vanna was pulled back to the present as she realized that she had overfilled the glass in her hand, cold amber liquid flowing out of the tap and over her fingers. “Shit,” she muttered as she closed the tap and wiped her hand on the rag hanging from her apron. She cleaned off the rim of the glass, poured out a bit of liquid and topped it off achieving the perfect 2 inch foam head before sliding it down to Jay. She let her mind go to one last person- Drake. Drake would always be family. He would always be one of the most important people in her life. But she would always feel a twisting, burning feeling of regret for the way that she’d left him; just a note, but he deserved so much more, and she’d always regret not giving it to him. At the time, she thought she was doing him a favor, leaving before he found out about her child. She remembered, painfully, how destroyed her brother had been when he heard of the loss of his own child- a child he never even got to hold- and she thought that watching her go through a pregnancy, watching her raise a son on her own, would bring things up for him that he’d worked hard to bury. She thought, at the time she left, that she’d be doing him a favor-that he’d be better off without her to worry about, to try to take care of. She knew, now, that she was wrong. Every day she woke up full of missing him. Every day she woke up and knew in her heart that he missed her, too. But every day she woke up in New York City was one more day longer that she’d been away, and as the days turned to years she became embarrassed and anxious to reach out to him, knowing that she’d hurt him with her sudden departure. She wanted to but couldn’t.

When she’d spoken to Bertrand after the attacks, she’d gotten an update that had chilled her very soul- Drake had been shot. She’d sobbed and cried herself to sleep that night, despite Bertrand’s assurances that his surgery had been successful and that he was expected to make a full recovery. The only thing that had made her feel even remotely better is that Bertrand had told her that he was seeing someone, and that she hadn’t left his side, that she would be there for him in his recovery, would be there to help him in whatever way that he needed. Her brother was loved, and from the sound of it, loved fiercely. It was the only thing keeping her from complete devastation, and as much as she wanted to fly back to see him, to beg him to forgive her and to hug him more tightly than she ever had before, she knew that now wasn’t the time- that he needed to focus on healing and having her show up to tear open old wounds wasn’t going to help. She may have lost Bertrand. She may have lost Bianca. But she’d never really lose Drake, and she knew that. Drake Walker and her son were the only family that she had left.

That’s not true, said a voice in the very back of her memory. You have Bastien…you have…there was someone else, someone she knew was there for her, someone she knew had loved her very much as a child…someone she couldn’t quite remember, but she couldn’t completely forget, either. I wonder where she is now…I wonder if she remembers me… Her wondering was cut short as Jay called for more drinks and she pushed all the memories down to focus on the task at hand.

The night wore on in waves as it tended to on karaoke nights, until the clock struck 2am and Jay’s shift came to a close. He helped her restock a few items before she shooed him out. “Go home, Jay, I was late, you’re exhausted. Get home to that adorable little brat of yours.” She gave him a good-natured shove.

“Alright, ain’t gotta tell me twice,” he grinned. “Have a good night, V, hope the last two hours fly for ya.”

Jay lifted the trap door and exited the bar just as the bell above the door jingled, and two more customers walked in. Vanna lifted her gaze from the tap to the door and smiled as she saw one of her favorite regulars. She overheard him greeting Jay amicably before leading the girl he was with over to the bar. Who’s that? She wondered about the girl. Usually he comes with…

“Hey, V…” he said, the tone of his voice slightly off. She let the towel she was drying her hands on fall back down to her apron as she pulled the tap to pour Dan’s beer.

“Hey you, long time no see…where’s-“

“V, we need to talk…”

.  .  . .  .  .  .  .  .

Two days before they were supposed to leave for the Council’s trip to New York, Claire was perched on the back of the couch behind Drake, gently kneading the tense muscles of his injured shoulder. Her right leg was draped over his other shoulder, his fingers grazing her shin as he closed his eyes , leaning into her touch. “How’s that feel?” she asked, applying pressure to his shoulder blade with her thumb, rubbing in a circular motion.

He winced and let out a low hiss, but he responded with, “Feels amazing, Berkley, don’t you ever stop.” His eyes squeezed even more tightly shut.

Claire grinned. “Ever?” she craned her neck to look down at him, mischief sparkling in her clear blue eyes. “But if I never stop, how can we-“

Without warning, he gripped her leg and pulled her down and around his shoulders and into his lap, his right arm coming around her, his left hand sliding up to cup her cheek. Surprised laughter bubbled from her lips as he absently brushed his fingertips along her arm. A spark of mischief to match hers was reflected in his dark eyes, and a slow smile spread across his face. “In that case, you can stop now,” he said, voice low and full of intent. He dropped his head to catch her lips, but before the kiss could deepen, a buzz interrupted the moment as the phone in Claire’s pocket rang. “You don’t have to get that, do you?” he groaned.

“No way,” she breathed, kissing him back, bringing her hands up to tangle in his hair. But the phone continued to buzz, even after the caller had left a message. “Ugh…maybe I do,” she whined, reaching for her pocket without pulling away from his lips. She waited until she absolutely had to to pull apart, pressing the answer button before checking the caller I.D. “Hello?” she answered, eyes still locked on Drake’s as he continued to brush his fingers along her arm.

“C?” There was alarm and excitement and news in Dan’s voice, and it made Claire sit up straight.

“Dan?” The way she greeted him drew Drake’s attention.

“C…I just left The Hippo…I think I know where Drake’s sister is…you’re not going to believe this…”

.  .  .  .  .  .  .

Tagging: @ooo-barff-ooo @sleepwalkingelite @zaffrenotes @brightpinkpeppercorn @mind-reader1@jovialyouthmusic @endlessly-searching-for-you @notoriouscs @endlesstaylormckenzie @agent-bossypants@andy-loves-corgis @akrenich @nekkidmolerat @indiacater @thequeenofcronuts @the-everlasting-dream @the-whiskeywife@roonarific @stopforamoment @mfackenthal@mkatschoicesblog @drakewalkerisreal @drakesensworld @gibbles82 @iplaydrake @speedyoperarascalparty @bobasheebaby @carabeth

[sunsetinmyvein]

Bandom One Shot POV... Things - Grand Theft Autumn - Patrick Stump

A/N - Trying something a little different from what I normally do while Key of Reason is kind of at its midway point, something less sarcastic humour and romance and more serious/angsty. I felt like exploring various character traits I found interesting, and thought a good way to do that would be to write a random one-shot sorta thing about various band members, from their point of view. Also I felt like using various lyrics as dialogue puns/story points... I possibly used too many.

As of yet I've only written about a couple of members of Fall Out Boy but I also have intentions of writing about Panic! At the Disco and potentially maybe others. But there are definitely 2-3 more Panic! ones on the cards, one day in the distant future. 

Want some totally irrelevant songs to listen to while reading this?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GZb_mqH2zJY

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MbrUzJlTffs

“Pete, that’s the third time this week you’ve missed practice.” Patrick grumbled into his phone as the bassist apologised.

“I know, I know, but I really can’t make it. On an unrelated note: are you doing anything tonight?” Pete’s voice crackled through the phone.

“What? You know I’m not, you literally just cancelled on us.” He answered with frustration.

“Awesome, there’s a party tonight down the road from me and I want you to come.”

Patrick took a long pause, trying to compose himself before outright throwing his phone at the wall. “Pete… are you telling me… that you cancelled on band practice tonight so that you could go to a party?”

“So that we could go to a party.” He clarified.

“PETE!”

“’Trick, you’ve done nothing but work since we got signed; you can’t stay holed up in that studio forever. I think it would do you good to get out.”

“WELL I’VE GOT NOTHING BETTER TO DO NOW, DO I?” He shouted back.

“Good. Then I’ll meet you at mine at 8.” Pete answered calmly as the line went dead.

Patrick knew being angry would get him nowhere, and to be honest he didn’t mind the idea of going to a party. Truth be told, the reason he had busied himself with work was so that he didn’t have to be left alone in his own head for too long, so he’d rather go to a party than be left alone in his empty apartment. Ever since they got back to Chicago after their first tour things hadn’t felt right, and he was pretty sure he knew why. He just wasn’t ready to have to face the facts yet. So, he didn’t.

He cleaned himself up, neatened his sideburns, and tried to look his best for this party. Everyone in town knew who they were now, and this was the first time he’d be seen since they returned. They weren’t just those annoying kids who hand out fliers for their 3am, dingy bar gigs on street corners anymore, now they were signed. They were attached to a big-name label now, and even if the four of them didn’t feel like anything had changed, it seemed to everyone else that it had. He adjusted the cap on his head, taking one last look in the mirror before starting the walk to Pete’s house. It wasn’t a short walk, but the Autumn air didn’t quite have that Winter-y bite to it yet.

When he arrived, the bassist was impatiently waiting on his front porch, car keys in hand.

“Where have you been?”

Patrick checked his watch in confusion. “It’s only 7:30?” He asked as Pete grabbed his shoulder and all but shoved him into the car. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. What’s the rush?” He asked as his friend climbed into the driver’s seat.

“They cracked the keg over an hour ago.” The older man grumbled as he fumbled with his keys.

“Okay? We don’t drink?” Patrick questioned as the car struggled to bring itself to life.

“You three might not, but I do.” He answered with a roll of his eyes. The party wasn’t far from Pete’s house and Patrick was not entirely sure why he had wanted to drive. With how much time Pete spent trying to get the car working, they probably could’ve walked and gotten here in much the same time. They exited the car and stood on the front lawn, taking in the scene before them. According to Pete the party had already been going for over an hour, but it looked like maybe it had been longer than that. The heavy sound of the bass on a stereo turned up way too loud could be heard coming from the front of the house, various screams and loud laughter could be heard from the backyard, and a kid was already passed out next to the front door next to what Patrick hoped was their own vomit.

“All right, so should we-” Patrick turned to ask, only to see that Pete was gone. He let out a frustrated sigh. “Typical.”

He pushed his way through the crowd of people until he found the kitchen, the hub of every party that was ever held. Searching through fridges and pantries, he aimed to find something non-alcoholic that he could drink. After shoving a couple who were making out on the bench top out of his way, he was finally able to retrieve a mixer that someone had left unattended and claim it as his own. He made his way into the backyard, seeing Pete standing next to the keg on the back porch, talking to some girl. She seemed his type. Patrick figured he probably wasn’t getting a lift home. There was an above ground pool at the back of the grass, and too many people were already crammed into it. Probably more than what they advised was maximum capacity on the warning labels. But as the guitarist had learned from his career in music, alcohol can make people do some impressive things. Like fit thirty people into a pool that should hold ten. Nobody had recognised him yet. Which he was perfectly fine with, if it stayed that way it was his excuse to begin the walk home early before he had to watch his bassist drunkenly make out with yet another fan. As he began making his way back into the house a hand landed on his shoulder.

“Patrick!” Andy grinned at him.

“Hey, man! What are you doing here?” He asked as he spun around to face him.

“Got dragged here by a friend.” He shrugged casually. “You?”

“Same. Except that friend was Pete.” He huffed.

“He gave up band practice for this?” Andy asked as he looked around, feeling incredibly out of place.

“More specifically for that.” Patrick replied as he gestured to the girl standing next to Pete.

“Ah, yes… Our Pete was never one to shy away from a good time.” He noted. “C’mon, we don’t have to watch that.” He said he led Patrick back through the house.

They weaved through the party-goers until they found a quiet corner in the house to sit down.

“So how have you been? I haven’t seen you outside of practice.” Andy noted as he took a swig from the cup in his hand. Patrick had offered to share his secret stash of unattended soda that he’d found in the kitchen after noticing that the drummer didn’t have anything to drink either.

“Yeah, fine.” He said instinctively. Andy waited for him to continue. “What?” Patrick asked with a frown.

“Are you sure? You’ve never been quite this invested in your work. Someone might think you were… avoiding something.” He shrugged, trying to not come off as prying for information.

“I…” Patrick sighed deeply before glancing around the room, seeing nobody he recognised. “I haven’t been keen on coming home.” He admitted as he started into the contents of his cup.

“Why? You’re no Pete, you love Chicago.”

“Chicago, maybe, certain people though…” He trailed off. As if on cue, a familiar voice suddenly ran through the air, dragging his eyes to the top of the staircase. All his efforts came crashing down around him, all his time avoiding people in his room, all the hours poured into the studio in the week they’d been back. Because there she stood, her hair falling around her shoulders, her bright eyes sparkling in that same way he’d never shake from his memory, and just as he had feared, with some strangers’ arm wrapped protectively around her waist. “Fuck.” He muttered under his breath as his eyes shot back to the floor, hoping she hadn’t noticed him. Andy had pieced together what was wrong at this point, but he knew there wasn’t much he could do.

“’Trick, you’re better than that shit. You deserve better.” The drummer tried to reassure, but he didn’t hear anything over the racing of his pulse in his ears.

“Patrick!” He heard her voice call, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He couldn’t deal with this, not now. He wasn’t ready. He didn’t want to come home to this. He pushed past Andy and deliberately made himself lost in the crowd, shoving his way past people. The air in the house suddenly felt suffocating, and he needed much more distance than what this room allowed. He finally made it outside, looking around in a panic for his friend.

“Pete.” He said as he approached the half-drunk bassist.

“Mm?” He mumbled without tearing his attention away from the girl batting her eyelashes at him.

“PETE.” He repeated louder, finally getting him to turn around.

“What?” He asked in frustration.

“I need your car keys.” He said as he reached into his friend’s jacket pocket.

“What? Why? I need them!” He answered as he pushed Patrick back from him.

“No, you don’t; you can walk home. I need to leave.”

“Why?”

“I just do, okay? Just give me your damn keys.” He answered through gritted teeth, holding his hand out expectantly. Pete didn’t budge, he only stared back, eyelids drooping slightly under the influence of the alcohol. “Argh! You drag me to this party and now you’re gonna make me suffer because of it? Fine!” He trudged off into the night, wrapping his jacket tightly around himself and making his way home.

Unfortunately for him, his plan was not as clever as he had hoped it might be. As he came around the side of the house into the front yard he stopped a few inches short of slamming into someone, only to find it was exactly who he didn’t want it to be. His face fell as their eyes met and his stomach fell to the floor. He wanted to disappear.

“Patrick, I thought you might be here tonight! I missed you!” She said happily as she pulled him into a tight hug. He didn’t hug back, but that didn’t stop the scent of her familiar brand of shampoo washing over him, making him feel sick.

“I was just-” He started as he tried to look anywhere but at her.

“How was the tour? Your new album sounds great!” She questioned, standing far too close for comfort.

“It was… fine.” He swallowed hard, finally daring to look at her properly. He hadn’t seen her in months now, but that hadn’t changed a thing. She still looked the same, still looked at him with that same smile on her lips, and still made the butterflies in his stomach do somersaults. He hated it. At the start things had been great, hell, at the start he was pretty sure his feelings were reciprocated. But gradually it became apparent that her affection was just empty words said to make him feel better. All she offered him was pity while she went off and dated other guys, told him about how she worried for her future with them. Why wasn’t he worth that? When was he going to appreciate in value enough to be considered an option? If that’s what she needed, he could be that. If she’d give him the chance. “Where is your boy?” He asked, waiting anxiously for the guy to round the corner and punch him in the face.

“Ryan? He was here a minute ago.” She said as she turned to look behind her. As soon as she took her eyes off of him he was able to compose his thoughts, and took the opportunity to escape.

“I hope he is a gentleman.” He grumbled bitterly under his breath as he walked away quickly, hoping she wouldn’t notice.

“Wait! ‘Trick!” She shouted as she tried to catch up to him. He shuddered at the use of the nickname only she called him, it forced him to slow his pace. “What’s wrong?” She asked from behind him.

“You! You are what’s wrong!” He spat back, venom lacing his tone. He stood there in the cold, waiting for her to catch up, but she had stopped a few feet behind him. He spun to face her, seeing the look of confusion on her face. “You were all I wanted in this damn town, you know that? The record deal, the album, the fans, it meant nothing compared to what that would’ve. What we would’ve. And I feel like I’m the only person here who knows that.” He explained, taking a few angry steps towards her.

“Patrick, I-”

“No! I’m not done talking. Do you realise how many nights I’ve spent awake mulling over crap you’ve said to me? Over the ‘I miss you’s? Bullshit you fucking miss me. You never try to call when I’m on tour. Remember all those nights when I told you I loved you? And you’d ‘never forget it’? Well… forget it.” He let the words hang in the air, staring down at the concrete between them. It took a long time before she decided to speak.

“I’m sorry, ‘Trick. I didn’t realise.” He stood there looking at her like she’d just said pigs could fly. She didn’t realise?

“Well at least I’m still fucking trying! That’s more than I can say for the majority of the notches in your bedpost. Or… I was trying.” She looked back at him, looking hurt in the cold. “I’m done.” He said, watching her face fall. She tried to reach for his shoulder but he quickly shrugged it off, turning to walk home. Andy was right; he was better than this. He never thought he’d see the day that he finally walked away. But tonight, he appreciated in value.

[jaeminlore]

enemies to lovers!jonghyun

a/n: for razzle dazzle anon!

i don’t talk about shinee that much but they’re my second bias group they mean the absolute world to me

and this one is for the softest boy in the world i love him so so much

anyway let’s get to the rivalry

wedding planner!jonghyun is known throughout all south korea as the best in the world

everyone wants him to plan their weddings, from idols to comedians to actors to politicians: there isn’t anyone on earth who doesn’t want jonghyun as their wedding planner

he’s just that good like he knows which colors go together he knows which caterers are best he knows the best deejays

there’s nothing he can’t do especially with florist!jinki and cake designer!taemin by his side, not to mention dress designer!kibum and mixologist!minho always ready to help for a discounted price

which the clientele obviously don’t know about

the boys work for other wedding designers too, as well as different events that their job calls for

so most of them are in the know when it comes to who is who in the event planning business esp kibum

actually it’s just kibum

you’re a wedding planner from your own country, but because of your amazing skills you’ve been invited to korea to help plan a wedding for this super famous actress who is getting married

and jonghyun thought he was a shoo in for that job so he’s a bit ??? when the news comes out that the “best wedding planner in the world” had been booked

because tbh he thought that was him

taemin in the bg: no no ur just the most famous in korea,,, there’s a difference

anyway jonghyun is mad bc you’ve essentially stomped onto his turf and are now taking his very rich clientele like it’s not going to slide

so he finds your number and calls you up

“y/n’s wedding event service, what can i help you with?”

and jonghyun is like cut the speil lady i know you’re out for my title

nd you’re just what title? who are you??

this did offend jonghyun that you somehow didn’t know his voice over the phone so he dramatically replies “this is jonghyun obv,,, the best wedding planner in the world”

but you must not notice the hostility in his voice bc you reply, “dude i love you! you’re like my hero when it comes to weddings,,, all my weddings are inspired by you”

jonghyun kind of wants to be flattered bc no one has ever told him smth like that before and also your words made his heart race with joy but he’s going to keep his cool and still play the “i hate you” card

“so it wasn’t enough to steal my ideas, now you have to steal my clients?”

nd you’re like wtf is wrong w you dude it’s just a wedding and you think about being civil with him since you look up to him but now you want to bite back with the same venom he shot at you

“maybe if you’d make your rates a bit more affordable, people would have the money to choose you over me”

“my prices are reasonable!”

“maybe to politicians and millionaires?? but people with basic income do not want to spend the amount of money you charge to have a wedding... esp if they’re trying to save money”

jonghyun feels INSULTED and ASHAMED bc he thought his prices were pretty good

“my prices are some of the lowest rates in south korea”

“well it looks like you’ve got a bunch of greedy wedding planners then bc you charge almost double what i charge in my country,,, that’s why they asked for me instead.”

jonghyun isn’t sure he can change his prices like the last thing he wants to do is make his clients broke but he also doesn’t want people to think he’s cheap

he almost wants to ask you how you do it: stay afloat at low prices and still able to pay rent

but he’s still angry and annoyed w you so he resists and hangs up on you, not feeling up to talking to you

so after that you sort hate jonghyun too like why did he have to be so rude to you??

but fast forward to a few days before the wedding and your florist cancelled???? and you have no idea what to do bc the whole theme of this wedding was floral paradise and you can’t have floral paradise without the floral

and you have no idea what you’re doing like you can’t find another florist this late in the game that will agree to give you a ton of flowers on short notice

they’d have to work overtime and it’d be such a chore and you feel at such a loss

your first overseas wedding and you were so excited bc your work would finally be in the news and more people might ask for you by name

all that work down the drain bc a florist who quit for unknown reason

you feel like crying and for some reason you pick up your phone and call jonghyun

yeah you sort of hate him but he’s also a fellow wedding planner and he’s the closest one you can go to right now who probably has advice

and it’s late when you call so his voice is super groggy and low “hello?”

you’re shaking like your anxiety is to the max and “jonghyun? it’s y/n and —”

“are you crying?” his voice is v soft and sweet like suddenly he doesn’t sound so mean

“it’s just that my florist cancelled on me and the wedding is in two days! how am i supposed to find a florist who will give me a whole truck load of flowers in two days?? the theme is based around flowers and if i fail this one no one is ever going to trust me again i’ll be known as a failure and an untrustworthy planner”

and jonghyun just kind of shushes you like “look you’re really tired and worried, but you need sleep okay? get some rest and meet me at the park on maple at around eight o'clock”

he doesn’t really give you time to agree but for some reason his words calm you, and you think jonghyun might actually help you

the next morning you grab all your planning stuff and head over to the park, hoping that jonghyun didn’t send you on a wild goose hunt just for fun.

when you finally spot him, he’s sitting around with four other guys and like five or six dogs running around and chasing each other

when you see jonghyun you lowkey gasp like wow he’s v handsome irl too bad he’s so rude to me

but then he smiles and walks up to you, looking sort of nervous “hey, um, these are my friends. jinki here is a florist and if you want, we can all pitch in and get the decorations ready for the wedding using the flowers he has”

you genuinely don’t know what to say like you sort of thought jonghyun was just going to make a laughing stock of you but he hasn’t

“aren’t you going to tell me that you’re a better planner than me?”

jonghyun shrugs “i mean, i am, but as a planner i know that it’s important that every wedding goes off without a hitch. i will push away my feelings for the good of the wedding”

it’s not the apology you wanted but you have more important things to worry abt so you’re like great!!! let’s go!!!

and turns out jinki is super sweet and owns this really small flower shop and it’s filled with a bunch of pretty arrangements and stuff

and he was more than ready to give you a helping hand

you gave him all the blueprints and drawings you had ready and jinki was like !!!! i can do this !!!!

and he shows you all of the flowers he has and all the different ways he can arrange them

so you two plan centerpeices and aisle markers and stuff

once you’re satisfied you show it to the other boys and everyone gets to work replicating all the pieces

and you’ve also got to make your own banners like you have to find siLK

and kibum is like dndnsnnsks well i have a ton in my office i’ve got eggshell and pearl and cream and lavender and rose and —

jonghyun cuts him off like we’re on a schedule buddy!!!

so jonghyun decides to take you to kibum’s house since he needs to drop all the puppers off anyways

they’re a bit of a distraction at the flower shop since taemin and kibum can’t seem to leave them alone

and when you arrive you see the pearl colored silk and immediately know it’ll go with the flowers

so you grab it and drape it across the edges of kibum’s desk “so imagine this is the aisle and it dips between each pew with a lil bouquet matching the bride is holding it up”

and as you’re talking you get this huge smile on your face and jonghyun begins to feel bad for being so rude to you over the phone bc

rlly you’re just like him: someone who wants to make others happy

and you both only have the bride and groom’s best interests at heart

it shouldn’t matter who is planning the wedding as long as the couple is happy

but jonghyun keeps this all to himself like he has some pride yknow

he helps you cut the silk and fold it neatly so that it doesn’t get messed up on the way back

and when you guys arrive everyone is amazed bc the colors look rlly beautiful together like all the boys are lowkey getting emo

esp jonghyun he always gets really emotional when he helps w a wedding bc he kind of dreams of his own and he can’t wait for it to be perfect and beautiful and amazing

most importantly he can’t wait to have someone by his side who makes him forget the beauty of flower arrangements and dresses and cakes

anyway so it takes well into the night before all the arrangements are finished

and the boys are already planning on helping you place them in the church and reception hall the next day bc you’re on a time punch and this was all the florists’ job

so they come over and everyone gets started on a different section of the church

jinki tells you and jonghyun to go to the reception hall and set up the centerpieces and everything

jinki lowkey ships the two of you okay

at the reception hall you both just set up the flowers and hope everything will be done before the rehearsal dinner that night, or else you’ll have to tell the bride that she lost her florist

you’re hoping she’ll never find out abt your screw up

when you guys are done you just sit and breathe bc …. finally ….. it’s over and you can rest

jonghyun is sort of close to you like his arm keeps brushing against your shoulder and you catch him more than once stealing glances at you

“thank you,” you say, bc you can’t really put into words how much his help means to you

he nods, “yeah, i guess when the couple books a sucky wedding planner, a mistake like this is expected”

you think he’s being legit and turn your head, almost sad that he still hates you

but he’s smiling at you, a teasing glint in his eye

you push him like dude that wasn’t cool i’m still on edge

but jonghyun keeps talking like “yknow, since i saved the day, it’s rlly only fair that you take me to the wedding as your plus one. that way i can make sure you don’t screw anything else up”

you glance at him again, and notice his ears have turned a bit red “you mean as a date? are you asking me to ask you on a date?”

“no,” he scoffs, “i’m telling you that you should repay me by making me your plus one”

“but essentially you want to date me”

“no i don’t,” he says, but he’s smiling and you find yourself unable to keep your own grin back 

“fine then. jonghyun, do you want to be my plus one to the wedding? i’d really love it if you were my date.”

jonghyun is lowkey super happy that you’ve agreed and reaches for your hand like “well if you insist”

it’s all kind of history from there

let’s just say you’ll have to be planning another wedding soon

;)

jk jk

the end

[ask-jaghatai-khan]

The BF Reacts to the Primarchs

In which @asking-ask​ gives first impressions of all the Primarchs based on art I provided!

For each Primarch I listed the legion, name, and three pieces of art, two of which were always from Aerion’s Primarch Project, and the Iconoclasts portraits. Gonna be a long post, so just click the “read more” tab.

(I) Lion El’Johnson

His name’s Lynel! That’s incredible! The art looks so different, because the first guy looks like a fuckboi, but the third guy looks like Lucius Malfoy by book seven, and then the middle looks like Soldier 76 in fantasy. So I don’t really know how I feel about that guy. I like the first one, the other two not so much.

(III) Fulgrim

(I listed by legion.)

I was gonna say, three does not come after one. Fulgrim—I like the name. Once again it goes fuckboi—I mean it looks like a Tarot card, which is neat. I love the sword, it’s zippity. He looks like if you had a baby with Samus Aran and the entire Belmont clan! Like the power armor, but it’s still very fantasy-like. And once again, he’s like an old fuck.

(IV) Perturabo

I’ve been pronouncing it like “Pervtabo”, like a pervert, so I’m sorry. Ah, it’s Reinhardt! It’s Reinhardt but with Hanzo’s face. I didn’t know this was—oh, it’s Battlefield Earth! I didn’t know this was secretly Overwatch. Yeah, I don’t really like the cable-hair, but the second one where he looks like Reinhardt and Hanzo’s lovechild I’m super into. He’s got caution signs! “Look, I’m dangerous.”

(V) Jaghatai Khan

It’s yo boiiii! He looks like he’s straight out of Big Trouble in Little China. The lightning bolt thing frustrates the hell out of me because in every picture it’s in a slightly different place. So once again, electric sword, I’m super into it. He’s got a parchment like pinned to his armor? Yeah, no, you need like Gorilla Glue or something, you can’t just thumbtack it on there, that’s not how it works. I LOVE the color scheme though, that is slick. White and gold and crimson, that is legit.

(VI) Leman Russ

First thing I thought was Lemon Brothers, or Leman Brothers, or whatever. WOAH, dude, it’s the Scotsman! God, I’m seeing a theme with these swords, they’re all very similar. He’s got a wolf on his crotch. Is that your boy in the background?

(No, that’s a Sister of Silence.)

Disappointing. Yeah, I don’t know, this guy’s kinda I don’t know. He looks like he’s from Samurai Jack.

(He’s a Viking werewolf.)

Yeah, that’s pretty neat! Oh, I see! Well, at least in all of them he’s got a wolf on his crotch, so that’s cool. Continuity.

(VII) Rogal Dorn

Yeah no, that’s just straight-up Soldier 76. Like, I can’t even comment any further because it’s just him. He’s got like the 70s porn-stache.

(Friendly muttonchops.)

Friendly muttonchops? I like porn-stache better, though. Porn-stache-chops. And what—he’s also got paper on him! I like to think that’s a grocery list and he doesn’t want to lose it, so he pins it to his armor. Like he looks down, “Oh! Right, I forgot eggs.”

(VIII) Konrad Curze

Ooh, ooh… This is like if Grima survived and wanted to wreak his revenge on fantasy and sci-fi. He’s not an attractive lookin’ fella.

(Oof! People are gonna be mad at you.)

What? He’s not! He’s greasy looking! He needs a bath. He needs a trip to Lush, he needs fucking cosmetics, and moisturizer, and detangler, and—he needs a lot of work. I am not a fan. Though I do like the bloody claws, that’s pretty neat.

(IX) Sanguinius

Oh my god, this is a straight-up lost Belmont. He’s straight-up, y’know, “BY THE POWER OF THE CHURCH, I SLAY THEE, DEMON!” kinda type deal. Look at him! Look at him, he’s so fancy! Oh my god, he’s so beautiful.

(He’s got majestic wings.)

I see that. Are those attached to his armor, or…?

(No, those are his actual wings.)

WOAH! I would party with this dude. I would go to a club with him and get drunk, he he’d probably be like—I’d be in the corner crying and he’d be giving me life advice. That’s a misleading name, though, it doesn’t sound very happy. His name should be like—uh—Lord Goldmeyer, or something like that.

(X) Ferrus Manus

He reminds me of Cable.

(He has metal hands.)

Yeah, he’s Cable. He’s just straight-up Cable, from Deadpool. Can he teleport? Can he travel through time?

(I don’t think so.)

Disappointing. Work on that, and get back to me. Uh, and then team up with Deadpool. I like him, he seems pretty chill. I would trust him to house-sit. He looks like—he looks like a dependable dude. I’m goin’ off of looks here.

(XII) Angron

Uhh, that is one angry-looking fucker. Oh, another Battlefield Earth guy! He looks VERY angry. Mm, that’s a lot of blood. I do not trust this guy to house-sit. yeah, no thanks, I’ll pass.

(XIII) Roboute Guilliman

*gasp!* He’s got a sweet bird! Birds? Bird.

(Is it a two-headed bird? It might be a two-headed bird.)

That’d be pretty neat! I would be down with that. He kinda looks like what I assume Master Chief looks like. Like he’s kinda got that generic white dude face, but it’s war-torn. Like, this dude’s seen some shit. But, I don’t know—he still—I feel like he still has hope for the world, y’know? So he’s not Soldier 76, ‘cuz he’s given up. So I think he’s like Master Chief.

(XIV) Mortarion

Oh my god, how many of these are there? This dude looks like a straight-up Ringwraith, or some sort of wraith. Or uh—Darth Sideous, or Plagueis? Which one is the Emperor?

(Sidious?)

Yeah, there we go. Yeah, he looks like Sidious. Oh, that’s a wicked scythe, though! Oh, same. We should chill, but maybe not. No.

(XV) Magnus the Red

Yo! It’s Starfire’s older brother! I mean, he’s ginger and huge! Oh, I like this guy. He’s neat! And he’s got like—cool, purple rune powers.

(He’s a wizard.)

Aw, dude. Is that like, an army of automatons, or something?

(Uh—later, yeah!)

*gasp!* I would party with this guy! I want this guy to be my best friend.

(You’re so good at guessing some of this shit.)

I know my fantasy, yo!

(XVI) Horus Lupercal

Uh, he reminds me of, um, the animated version of Dr. Freeze.

(I should have included him when he’s at, like—max evil. He looks more like the second picture.)

Yeah, he legit looks like a different skin for the Batman Animated Dr. Freeze. And because of that I don’t trust him. Lotta eyes, a lot of people just have eyes on their armor. Do they serve any purpose, or are they just, like, cool?

(Uh, I think that’s the Eye of Terra. It was like a symbol they used.)

Oh, very neat, I like it.

(XVII) Lorgar Aurelian

Lotta bald dudes. And if they’re not bald they’ve got hair to their legs. Yo—OH, he makes me think of the Elder played by Leonard Nimoy from Atlantis!

(Oh yeah, the facial tattoos.)

Yeah! That’s cool! I—I trust him. I don’t know, just based on that; based on the fact that he reminds me of Leonard Nimoy as the Elder in Atlantis. I dunno, he strikes me as a chaotic-neutral. Just because he’s got a lot of, like, scary shit, but he’s also got incense and he’s got a book. So he probably knows how to fuck you up, but he probably also doesn’t care. So, that’s what I’m gleaning from how he looks.

(XVIII) Vulkan

Yooo! This dude—I would not fuck with this dude. He’s scary lookin’. He looks like someone left him in the fryer for too long. He’s a little toasty-lookin’. Not, like, trying to harsh on his personality, I’m just sayin’ that’s what he looks like.

(Would you believe me if I told you he’s the nicest guy of all of ‘em?)

Yeah, I could see that. He’s got a bit of a Drax vibe to him. Where he’s, like, really scary looking but I bet, y’know, you just met him and he offers you lemon squares. You’re like “I didn’t even know you could make lemon squares!”, and they’re pretty good lemon squares. He probably has a cat named Snuffles, that he really loves. But he could also kick your ass, so…

(XIX) Corvus Corax

I know this name, I’ve heard this name. Ah, it’s Wolverine! He’s got—his primary weapon is his nose, right? ‘Cuz he’s got a straight-up Ocarina of Time nose.

(He’s got a beak.)

Exactly! No, that’s not a nose; that’s a beak or a weapon. I love the color scheme! Like, a lot of these dudes have gold, but, like, gold in different places, which is really cool. Also, he’s got feathers, which is neat. So I’m into that.

(XX) Alpharius/Omegon

(Or “Alpharius Omegon”)

Are they the same person, or are they twins? What the fuck—?

(They do like a “I am Spartacus” thing. He’s got a twin brother nobody knows about.)

I hope they get along. Oh, that’s cool, they look like they’d get along. I like the mirrored scar thing, do you think they did that on purpose? I like to think one of them got scarred and the other one was like “Bro, you gotta cut up your face so that we look like mirror images of each other, ‘cuz that’d be neat!” I dunno, mm— there’s something—unsettling that, I don’t know, it creeps me out a little bit. Ehh. Naw, I don’t like ‘em.

Final Thoughts

I think out of all of these, I like Vulkan, because you said he’s chill; and I like Lllorgar, because he’s, like, I dunno. There’s a vibe about him, where I’m like “Yeah, you seem like a neat dude!” Uh, who else? And I want Magnus the Red to be my BFF. I wanna chill with him on the weekends and if I have any crazy house parties he’s the first person I’m calling up, because I know everyone’s gonna get fucked up. Like, that is LEGIT. I trust him with my booze, and I trust him with anything. Um, and I’m trying to think—I don’t like the greasy guy; and I feel like Sang-Sangweenus? Sanguinius, that guy, he’s cool too. Though I don’t know, I feel like if I tried to hang out with him he’d just—I’d form a guilt complex. Like, he probably eats really well and works out and has a spice garden…

(He’s Rob Lowe?)

Exactly! So I just look at him and I’d be like “Mm, you’re a little TOO perfect.” But I trust him. No, Konrad, I don’t—he reminds me too much of the midway point when Viktor Krum turned into a shark. That makes me uncomfortable.

(So who would you say is your least favorite, or the one you’re most suspicious of?)

It’s Konrad, yeah. The other ones seem cool, and if not I feel like I’ve got bros. I just need a three-man army and I feel like I’d be safe from the ones I don’t trust. So yeah, I like ‘em, they could kick my ass!

Thanks again to @asking-ask​ for the commentary! Glad to know my BF is a filthy heretic in the making, save for Vulkan being part of his triad-squad.

[mysticmoneyhoney]

Mystic Messenger Heist!AU Ch3

=================================

A month later

=================================

"You need to get lost soon." The static in the ear piece the red head wore distracted him from typing. "They're going to find and kill you, and we won't have what we need!" The voice was urgent this time finally warranting a response.

"Don't worry! Hacker supreme 7-0-7, is almost done!" The cheery and confident voice suddenly dropped in a dangerous tone. "So stop bothering me." Going back to his computer and watching the data download fromt he large computer onto his laptop. His glasses reflected the screens in the dark office. He glanced out the window to the large warehouse the office looked over. It seemed to be an endless supply of boxes. Boxes full of illegal guns, drugs, and possibly counterfeit money. Seeing light slowly enter the warehouse, the great hacker knew he needed to speed up the process. But there was no speeding up file transfers. They always went at their own pace.

Moving low to the ground, he gently set a can next to the door and crawled back to the computer to check the file status.

67%. Oh come on.

Seven could hear shouts from below now. They must have figured something was amiss when the lights weren't turning on. "Come on baby. Today please." He was going to have to jump. He raised a figure and gently felt the glass, giving small gentle taps to the window. Not bullet proof. Glancing over to the laptop he hoped it was just about done.

74%

"Fuckin' piece of-" He grumbled under his breath and made sure to start packing up anything that wasn't necessary for the transfer into a aluminum case. He was going to have to use this to smash the window. Slipping a small device in his pocket he glanced out the window. It looked like 4 men with guns were marching up the stairs towards the office. Leaving 3 on the ground. Tsk. The chances of not getting shot dwindling very very quickly. Hopefully they weren't good shots.

82%

Part of him wanted to reach out and shake the computer. Knowing fully well it wouldn't help at all. But it surely would make him feel better. They were getting too close for true comfort. He was going to have to make a jump. He gently set the laptop into the briefcase, still open as it downloaded the files.

96%

Someone attempted to open the door, as if it would be unlocked. The door handle gave a few shakes before it grew silent. Then a loud bang, then another, and another, someone was trying to kick it down.

98%

The kicking stopped shortly after. There were low murmurs filed the tense silence that was filling Seven's ears. There was a click, and rapid fire that hit the door handle, leaving the door to swing open.

100% "All done meow~!"

As the computer chimed, seven closed the briefcase and stood up. As the men rushed in, he slid his hand into his pocket, and turned away from them. Bright flashes of light and sound erupted from the small can near the door. Reaching his arm back he slammed the briefcase against the window. The weight of which was suppose to carry him forward through the glass, but his arm gave a jerk as the case bounced back spinning him around.

"What?!" Another hit to the window and it didn't shatter. It wasn't bullet proof why?! Oh lord in heaven. Why do you place so many trials upon this poor sinner. Freezing in place Seven tried to formulate a plan. If they hit him in the chest and legs he'd be okay. The bullet proof vest would work and he could power through a leg/arm shot. But his head.... Maybe they'd shoot chest first, inspect and he could hijack a gun.

The flashes had finished not long after starting and the men were gaining vision back. The leader already had a gun fixed upon Seven. The chest is where the gun was aiming but no bullet escaped. "You snooped too long." The gruff voice mocked the red haired man.

"I did. You were a lot faster than I had expected. Silly me." Seven gave a little grin and held onto the briefcase tightly with one hand and raised one hand in a defenseless motion to show he wasn't holding a weapon. "Do I get to be a prisoner and tortured?" With torture there was possibilities of escape. Death, not so much.

"No. We will kill you. Take briefcase, and send your balls back to your boss as warning." The gun raised. His neck? They wanted to watch him choke on his own blood before dying. How brutal. Seven hissed in disappointment. "What a shame." He stared down his attacker, waiting for the trigger pull.

A shot rang out, blood splashing onto Seven's face. The searing hot flames of pain erupting in his mind. Before calmly fading into a strong stinging sensation. Seven watched the body of the man in front fall to the ground before 3 other shots rang out. Reaching a hand up he felt the grazed shot along his cheek. "Had they missed him and then tried to cover up??" Looking towards the window four holes decorated the window that hadn't been there before.

Hearing another gunshot, Seven tried to pin point the location. He found one of the guards below cautiously walking around, gun raised, before being gunned down with a single shot. That was 6 shots. That meant there was one more guard around the area. Seven made his way over the bodies and out the door, wiping the blood from his cheek off onto his sleeve. Where was the other guard?? He looked around, letting himself get into a small covered area behind some boxes. He should just make a run for it.

"Cutting it a little close Luciel." A voice spoke from above, and for a split second, Seven was certain it was the holy son himself. Watching a leg dangle from above him, before a whole body of a man in the guard uniform drop down in front of him. Sniper rifle strapped onto his shoulder. "Did you even have a plan? What was with that poor window breaking attempt?" The man removed his helmet, letting his white locks flow so free. They gently went back into place, as if the man had never been wearing a helmet.

"Zen you scared the fuck out of me. Why are you here?" Seven held a hand to his chest and tried to calm the sharp pain that was his quickly beating heart. The sniper gave the hacker a pat on the back and escorted him from the building.

"V sent me. He wasn't sure where you were. So I had to do some shit guard duty. Lucky me." A cigarette was already in the man's hands, as he took a long drag. Seven plucked the cig from Zen's hands and tossed it to the ground. "Don't smoke. It'll make me sick. And you'll stink up my baby."

The two men walked down an alley passing various small garage doors before stopping at one 3 away from the end. Seven tapped a card against the keypad that rested on the side of the door frame, opening the door. "So, V is out? Is he okay? Trying to plan a reunion already?" Seven started asking questions as he unlocked the car for the both of them.

Zen placed his sniper rifle and bags in the back of the car before hopping in the passenger seat. Seven placed the briefcase behind his seat before getting into the driver seat and starting the car. "V is out. He says we're back in business. At least for one final heist." Zen made sure his seatbelt was secure, right before the hacker peeled out of the garage and made his way into the open road.

"Why, would V be interested in a new heist? The last one was...." Seven stopped himself feeling the bitter taste on his tongue. He could see in his peripheral view Zen tensing up. The car remained silent for a few moments as both men stopped themselves from getting overly angry.

Zen finally spoke. "Because revenge fuels the best plans." Looking over to Seven, he smirked. "You wanna? Jaehee, Jumin, and myself already said yes. It won't be the same without you."

The red head scoffed. "Won't be the same...You guys couldn't do anything without me. What's the hit?"

Zen chuckled before relaxing in the seat, getting used to the top speeds the vehicle was driving at. "A casino."

"Casino? Does he realize how dangerous, complex, and intricate those systems are?! Not to mention how practically impossible they are to crack!" The car gave a small jerk slightly as Seven drifted the vehicle into a left turn suddenly.

"You can't do it?" The white haired man gripped the seatbelt and the 'Oh Shit' handle, respectably.

"I didn't say I couldn't do it. I said it was practically impossible." The red head adjusted his glasses and smirked. "You know I can make the impossible, possible. It would be quite the feat for a hacker such as myself. My rates would triple."

"Well god. It's Rika's Casino. V wants our money back. So you can get your rates back plus some from the last heist." Zen reached for his pack of cigs, before heaving a sigh remembering the no smoking rule in the car. "You're going to need to connect us again."

Seven shook his head. "No We're going to need to be in close contact. A chatroom would be redundant at this point. I'll make a secure texting/call system. That way it won't be traceable." He gave a few taps on his chin trying to think of how he'd design it. "Where are we all meeting?"

"At mista trust fund's pad." Zen pouted. Not wanting to be subjected to a cat hair filled death trap. Which reminded him he needed to preemptively take some pills.

"Oh~ I'll get to see my Elly." Seven laughed as Zen started to sneeze and whine about how he hated cats and their terrible hair. From then the car ride was silent until seven reached his home. Pulling into his own garage Seven got out and took the briefcase from the back of the car. "Hey, you know what I just thought about?" Seven watched the other male gather his things from the back. Zen gave a small 'hmm' as to signal Seven to continue talking. "What about Yoosung?"

[theliterateape]

Hope Idiotic | Part 42

By David Himmel

Hope Idiotic is a serialized novel. Catch each new part every week on Monday and Thursday.

MONTHS HAD GONE BY. Lou loved his job, and the job loved him back. The people he worked with were interesting, smart and funny. The work was challenging, but also interesting and smart. He was still freelancing, which kept his evenings and weekends busy. He would sometimes go out with Spark people after work, or meet up with other friends for a few drinks, but mostly Lou kept to himself.

It took an incredible amount of energy for him to keep his anger over Michelle and sadness over Chuck and Pop in check. Lou always found it exhausting to put on the public performance of having it all together and being the guy with a joke or an exciting idea of action at the ready. It was even more exhausting now, so he stayed in. He worked. He wrote and fleshed out ideas for books, TV shows, plays and movies. His plan was that once he had them polished, he’d talk to Mark about pitching them to New York people or possibly fly out to L.A. and pitch them there.

He loved having money, but he hated spending it, though he did. He updated his wardrobe and didn’t flinch when he bought a pack of gum. He was paying Grams back with ease and managed to stuff his freelance money—a few hundred bucks a month—away into a savings account. He sprang for a few good bottles of scotch. And he drank them quickly, then restocked his shelf.

Lou managed to kick the cigarettes, but the heavy drinking was maintained. Because of the gig at Spark, he couldn’t drink during the day like he had been while at the sheet-metal shop, but he made up for it at night while writing in the second bedroom of his apartment, which he had turned into his office. He was always at the Spark office on time and continued turning out good work, but he was aware that he was walking that fine line between being a functioning alcoholic and full-blown fuckup.

The drinking always started simply enough. Once glass of scotch to soothe the anxiety. He’d write through the first glass, then require a second to keep the anxiety at bay. But as the booze kicked in, the darker thoughts revealed themselves. He would lose his focus and retire to the living room with a fresh glass and the television. The thoughts of Chuck and Michelle and his damaged relationship with his mother and the fear of being unemployed again consumed his mind. He could never seem to watch a single complete program, but instead flipped through the channels, finding the constant change of picture and sound relatable. Many nights, he’d pass out on the couch with a watered-down glass of scotch resting on his chest, the TV blaring an infomercial or some tween comedy on the Disney Channel. When this happened, he’d wake up with just enough time to go to his bed and get an hour or so of proper sleep before having to get up, shower and head off to Spark.

He was walking that fine line between being a functioning alcoholic and full-blown fuckup.

Despite his past behavior in dealing breakups, Lou never once drunk-dialed Michelle. The thought never even crossed his mind. Once, years ago, after a rough break up, Chuck had to hide Lou’s phone from him to prevent him from calling his ex. Lou managed to sneak away, find a pay phone and collect-call her. She didn’t accept the charges. Lou did not miss Michelle, but he missed loving someone. He missed being touched. And when these thoughts came to surface, Lou ordered women. He was spending about a thousand dollars every two weeks on hookers. He liked the ease they came with. They’d show up at his door, he’d make them a drink, they’d chat on the couch for a while and then he’d invite them back to his bedroom. They’d use their iPhone Square app to take payment from his credit card and then he’d fuck them like he loved them. If anyone ever asked him how he’d like it, he’d say, “Just pretend to care,” and they’d oblige.

He could have kept spending his money like that had the clutch in his car not given out. The repairs cost more than two grand, and as he looked at his bank account, he realized he had been mismanaging his money. With the Spark job and all the freelancing he was doing, he was earning nearly ninety grand a year, but the hooker habit was not a financially sustainable one. He began to worry that he was becoming more and more socially inept, even afraid of going out and making friends and fostering new, real relationships.

We spend our lives surrounding ourselves with the right people and the right job and right amount of shit to call our own. Life is a puzzle. We gather the pieces and put each one in place, and when we can finally make out the picture, we’re complete. But then a piece is taken away or lost. People die. Friends become strangers, lovers lie. At best, we can still make out the picture, but it’s clear something is missing. And those pieces can never be replaced.

Over the last three years, Lou’s closest relationships had only let him down and brought him to such painful conclusions. His career was fleeting, he’d seen the evidence of that, and he knew that Spark could just as suddenly change and not need him just as suddenly as it had brought him on board. But he needed a job because he needed to pay rent; there was no way to avoid that. He could, however, avoid allowing himself to be at risk of more emotional pain by caring for others or letting others care for him. It’s like that old Simon and Garfunkle song: if he never had loved, he never would have cried. Chuck was gone, so was Pop. Michelle and everything she had stood for was gone. His parents had revealed themselves as fools, the same as everyone else. Mark had left town and Neal was struggling to keep himself from going crazy in a city Lou was terrified of ever returning to; it represented too much of the false hope he once had had. Lexi was around, and though they would meet for the occasional drink or dinner, seeing her and noticing how distraught she was by Chuck’s death only made Lou more angry. And he was growing tired of being angry. Grams wouldn’t be around forever—no one would be.

So, he wondered, what was the point?

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII Part IX Part X Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39 Part 40 Part 41