#this gray ass video was very satisfying for me to color

[seokryus]

🐶🖤🩷

[smallerinfinities]

Quarantine Day 26

a/n: in which Shawn gets a haircut

yeah...I couldn’t help myself. I watched so many youtube videos for this 😂

warnings: 2.6k of fluff and like a whisper, A HINT of smut

“That sounds nice…”

Shawn’s fingers paused against the vibrating strings. He leaned back against the couch toward your disembodied voice rounding the corner. You walked into the living room with a glass of red wine, your cheeks already fully flushed from the alcohol, wearing one of his Givenchy sweatshirts and a pair of little hot pink sleep shorts.

“Just working on something to record later,” he smiled, continuing his strumming and plucking, little head nods on heavy beats to mark the time. “I’ll send it to Teddy later...she misses the studio.”

He’d been shacked up with you for twenty-six days in your tiny apartment. When the stay-at-home order came down from the city, he’d rushed over, just an overnight bag full of clothes and his guitar case, not wanting to be alone and not wanting to be in chaos at his parents’ house. Aaliyah was doing remote school and whining about college applications everyday, he’d said, not a place he wanted to spend an indefinite amount of time. Sometimes you thought it was a lie, seeing how easily he fit into your life. He belonged here with you. Especially when he’d come up behind you while you waited for your morning coffee to suck on that place behind your ear. It always ended up with the two of you back in bed for an hour longer than you should have been. It had happened again this morning. Thank God it was a holiday.

Now, he was stretched out on your L-shaped couch, the only luxury you’d allowed yourself when you moved out of your parents house. It was the dominant feature in the room, heavy and royal blue, one of those couches that you sank into when you sat down. His legs were propped up on the ottoman in front of him with his acoustic in his lap.

You sat down next to him, pulling your knees up to your chest and using one as a makeshift coaster for your stemless wine glass. He stopped playing again and shifted closer to you, patting his lap for your legs. You smiled at him, stretching your legs out across his thighs, and let him rest his guitar on top. When he started plucking the strings again, you could feel the vibration of the sound against your skin.

He hummed random words and noises to the melody with his eyes closed, lost to creating but content to be here touching your skin. Your legs rubbed comfortingly against his own bare ones. He’d taken to just wearing t-shirts and boxers around the apartment, no need to get dressed if he wasn’t running to the grocery store or to the door to get the food delivery. You reached out and ran your fingers through his floppy curls, one of them getting caught in a tangle.

“Baby,” you said, causing him to strum slower, “you need a haircut.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, changing to a minor chord to amplify his woe, “it’s been bugging me for awhile but I don’t have anything to cut it with. Not even at home.” You rolled your eyes, knowing he hadn’t had anyone but Anna touch his hair in five years.

“I can cut it.”

He stilled immediately, his eyes bugging a little as he loudly swallowed.

“I….I don’t know.”

“Oh, come on,” you swung your legs out from under the guitar excitedly. The instrument protested with discordant vibrations. “I have some clippers left from my last dumbass boyfriend who was obsessive about his stupid sideburns. I can watch a YouTube video. This could be fun!”

The reticence in his eyes was screaming at you, but you were on a mission now. You sprung up from the couch, half sprinting over to the closet in the hall to dig out the gray plastic box that held the clippers and all the attachments.

“See?!” You showed him the case, already turning on your heels toward the bathroom.

Shawn sighed again, knowing it was a lost cause now. At least my hair grows fast. He would probably be able to hide out for as long as it might take to grow back. He leaned his guitar against the couch cushions and pushed himself to stand, following you to the bathroom. When he got there, he had to swallow a chuckle.

“I’m trying to find some hair cutting scissors!” You yelled, digging underneath the sink, even though you were only a couple of feet away from him. He bit down on his fist, his shoulders shaking. You were bent over, hot pink shorts stretched over your gorgeous ass just tight enough to see the black lace hugging your curves, but the hood from his sweatshirt had come up over your head so you looked like a sexy burglar.

“Take your time,” he snorted.

“Shawn!” You whipped around, missing scissors gleaming in between your fingers, “so help me God, I will cut off your favorite curl if you laugh at me.”

“Okay, okay,” he straightened, gulping, “where do you want me?”

You grinned, “well, I always want you between my thighs, but for now can you grab a chair from the breakfast table?”

He nodded and disappeared back down the hall, his curls shaggy and swaying with his walk. You plugged in the clippers and set the scissors on top of the set of towels you’d pulled from the linen closet. Satisfied that everything you’d need was accounted for, including the overgrown mop you’d be cutting as Shawn returned with his chair, you pulled out your phone and opened up YouTube.

“Sit,” you said, pointing to the chair but not taking your eyes off your phone. You pulled up a quick video about cutting tools and how to use them, running through clipper sizing and how to blend. Simple enough.

“Okay, okay, this seems pretty easy,” you nodded, staring at Shawn’s reflection in the mirror. He looked….petrified. He was breathing shallow. His shoulders looked like they were glued to his ears. Your eyes widened and you leaned over him, “honey, are you okay?”

“I don’t know why I’m freaking out, it’s just hair,” he looked up at you like a lost puppy.

“I know you don’t want me to fuck it up, and I promise I’ll stop if you don’t like what I’m doing, okay?”

“Okay,” he exhaled in a rush, his shoulders relaxing down to their normal position. “Have you done this before? Like used clippers ever?”

“Once or twice,” you said, not inviting more questions on your qualifications. You didn’t want to tell him that you’d done this exactly once on your best friend in high school who wanted an “alternative” haircut when she came out to her parents. It looked basically like the picture afterward, think Hayley Williams but a lot shorter...and half buzzed. The 2000s were weird.

“Now take off your shirt,” you instructed, pointing the scissors at him.

“Yes, ma’am,” he couldn’t help but smirk as he stripped his vintage Sting tee off. His skin was still just barely freckled from his Mexico holiday vacation. You traced them with the tips of your fingers until he shivered, moving your hands down, through the unkempt hair there and back up to squeeze his shoulders. He melted in your hands, dropping his chin to his chest and moaning.

“Good,” you said, “now turn and lean back.” Turning on the sink, you reached for a comb, “we’re doing this salon style.”

He did as you asked, dipping his head almost all the way under the faucet. You combed through it, making sure the whole mop was wet. He looked a little like a water spaniel wading through a lake. You grabbed his expensive shampoo that smelled like bergamot and patchouli and lathered it into his hair.

With everything going on in the world, outside, in their city, the act of washing his hair was soothing. Simple, task-oriented, clean. You understood why people did this for a living. Shawn let out a moan when your fingers dug deep into his scalp and your knees buckled a little. You washed out the suds and applied conditioner, turning off the sink to let it sink in.

“This is nice,” he whispered with his eyes closed like it was a secret. You wiggled your fingers above his face, letting little droplets fall, giggling when one fell on his nose. He scrunched his face up and let it fall down the side of his face.

“Did you know,” you said as you flipped the water back on to give him a final rinse, “that I’m very happy you decided to come quarantine with me? I would have gone insane.”

He opened his eyes and smiled one of those big Mendes toothy smiles, “I didn’t even really think about it. I just packed my bag.”

You grinned back at him, turning off the water and grabbing at a towel to dry his curls, but before you could get back to him he shook his head, sending a shower of man-smell infused water everywhere.

“SHAWN, WHAT THE HELL?!”

He doubled over laughing, catching the towel you launched at his head. He scrubbed vigorously at his hair while you toweled off, slipping off his sweatshirt and revealing the bralette you had on underneath. It barely concealed your nipples. If he was gonna distract you, he was gonna get distracted. When he out from under the towel his curls were frizzed out, sticking out from his head at all angles. His breath stopped on a quick inhale and his face immediately flushed.

“Honey, I,” he stuttered, “I can’t focus with you like that.”

“Oh, good thing I’m the one with the scissors around here,” you quipped, pushing him back in the chair and draping the damp towel over his shoulders.

You grabbed a random hair tie from the counter and parted out the top section of his hair, the part that would stay longer after you trimmed the back and sides. His eyes were closed again, probably to block out the anxiety of watching you in the mirror. You took a minute to say a little prayer. Please, God. Don’t let me fuck this up. The fucking fangirls will murder.

You flipped on the clippers.

His hair fell to the floor in little tufts, coloring the floor with dark clouds. You used the second longest setting, making sure he wasn’t losing the wave in his hair at any point. The reference picture in your head was from around the Seoul show last year. It was a good length. Curly all around but not too unkempt. It was your favorite hair.

You stopped about three-quarters of the way to the top section, switching to the longest setting to blend up to the top of his head. There was something to be said about hair just long enough to grab onto. You’d test it out later.

The top was going to need scissors. You flipped off the clippers, returning them to the case, and picked up the sharp shears. Shawn gulped again, his Adam’s apple bobbing heavily.

“I saw that,” you chided through the comb in your teeth. If you were being honest, it looked pretty good so far. No weird lawn mower tracks or weird chunks missing. The waves were still there. A whisper of labradoodle but not full on sheepdog. That was the goal. Nothing crazy.

You took his hair in inch wide sections from right to left, trimming about an inch off everywhere, a little more in the wilder areas. He reached up to run his fingers through it before you were finished.

“Hey!” You swatted his hand away, “let me finish before you check my work!”

He snorted, crossing his arms over his chest and bobbing his knee up and down. Impatient bastard, you thought, snipping a few more curls. The only ones you didn’t really touch, maybe a quarter inch here and there, were the curls toward the front. The ones that dropped down into his face and across his forehead. You liked those, loved to push them back in the morning when he looked down at you, naked and pressed against his chest. You ruffled his damp hair to see how it might curl and retract.

“Shawn,” you leaned down to whisper in his ear, “you can look now.”

He slowly peeked with one eye, then with the other, his eyes growing wide when he saw it fully. He got up out of the chair to lean up to the mirror, inspecting and combing his fingers through it about fifty times. You grabbed some oil off the side of the sink and ran it through the top, letting it soak in and tame the frizz drying into the curls.

“So,” you needled, “do you like it or what?”

“I…” he rifled around in his toiletry bag, pulling out a little black box of hair paste, “I think I love it.” He smoothed some of the cream between his hands and fingered it through the ringlets. They snapped and bounced back on top of his head.

“Holy shit, thank God,” you exhaled in a rush, sitting on the lid of the toilet while your heart rate slowed.

He stopped and looked over, his big green-brown eyes asking questions.

“I mean, I wasn’t worried,” you backtracked, stopping when he lifted an eyebrow. You huffed. “Okay, I was a little worried...the fans...they’re vicious! And it’s your hair! You could probably trademark it for fuck’s sake!”

He tipped his head back and laughed loud and long, some stray cut hair falling from his neck to the floor.

“You know, I thought about halfway through that it’s good I look so sexy in backward baseball caps.” He waggled his eyebrows at you, obviously suppressing a laugh at his own bad joke. You got up and shoved him in the shoulder, crossing the hall to your bedroom. He followed closely behind.

“I don’t give a fuck what the fans think about my hair, you know that,” he leaned on the door frame and watched you dig for a dry shirt. You pulled out an oversized Maple Leafs tee and bent to throw it on.

“Oh, no you don’t,” he stopped you, catching at the shirt and letting it fall to the floor. “You gave me a haircut, so now it’s my turn to give you something.” He threaded his fingers with yours and led you to the edge of your bed, setting you down and stepping back.

“Now, do you like my hair?” he asked, kneeling in front of you, busying himself with untying your shorts. He mouthed at the inside of your thighs, pausing only to grip your shorts and panties in one hand and drag them down your legs. His lips returned to your skin, closer and closer to where you wanted him.

“Yes,” you moaned, widening your legs and combing your fingers through his still damp hair.

“Yes, what?” he smirked against your pubic bone. His hand slid up your belly and pushed up the barely-there bralette, pushing you back to lay against the rumpled sheets. He traced your lips with the tip of his tongue, not dipping inside until he got his answer.

“Yes! Oh, God,” you fisted the waves at the nape of his neck. Perfect. “Yes, I love your hair!”

“Good,” he reached up to kiss you just once before returning to his throne between your legs, licking a long stripe from your entrance to your swollen, aching clit, “that’s all that matters.”

Words were lost to moans and shaking limbs and muffled curses. It turned out his hair was, in fact, just long enough to grab onto.

taglist: @justanotherfangurl272​  @siennarossi​ @trustfundshawn​ @alone-in-madness​ @harryandmolly​ @thatindiannerdygirl​  @mendesromano​ @fromthicctosticc​ @esoltis280​ @softmendesss​ @sinplisticshawn​ @nedthegay​ @september-lace​ @itrocksmysocks​ @disaster-rose​ @mendesoft​ @luvluvxx​ @i-play-video-games​ @ihearthemcallingforyou​ @gentleshawn​ @kitykatnumber​ @enchantingbrowneyedgirl​ @ijustreallylikeshawnokay​ @shhhawnmendes​ @shawnsblue​ @imaginashawnns​ @mendesficsxbombay​ @shawn-youth​

[kabira]

08 | distance

pairing — spider-man!vernon x ofc

featuring — joshua, yeji (itzy), felix (skz), yangyang (nct)

word count — 2.5k

genres — spider-man au, marvel au, fluff, action, angst, humor

warnings — minor violence

note — ok so this was kinda later than scheduled (three WEEKS) but the next update will hopefully be on time so i can keep up! by which i mean sunday 6 am (ist). also, for the love of god, tumblr make this show up in the tags. pretty, pretty please.

go to fic masterlist | main masterlist

“Okay, so here’s what I found out about your Rhino guy,” Yeji said, jumping over the side of the rooftop and landing on another, hitting the ground with a roll before coming up on her feet. They were currently involved in a high-speed chase, which meant she had to yell at the top of her voice for Vernon to hear her—not that it mattered a lot. Up here, no one could hear you scream. “He’s Russian. Name’s Alexei Sytsevich.”

“Russian, huh?” Vernon yelled back. He swung over a tall rooftop garden, taking care not to accidentally knock over something he wasn’t supposed to. “Anything that could tie him to Osborn?”

“Not really!” Yeji yelled. “His identity is public, so anyone could get to him, and he must have happened to have been around when he attacked you. But there’s nothing concrete we could go after.”

The two of them were chasing Batroc the Leaper across the top of the buildings, having caught up with him just moments after he robbed a store. A basic assignment, really, but it was still a challenge to apprehend him before he got too far from the crime scene. One of their more casual operations, much like a training session, except this was the real deal.

“Anything of interest?” Vernon asked. They were close to catching their quarry, very close. Batroc wasn’t really that notorious in the underworld, but he was still a menace and technically a criminal. A more notable point of interest were the mechanical leaping legs attached to both his feet which allowed him to jump several feet high in the air, making for a good old-fashioned superhuman chase scene.

“He was experimented on with this gamma radiation technique to give him superhuman strength and durability, but it ended in an accident,” Yeji answered. Her voice, apart from the strain due to the yelling, sounded strangely relaxed for someone who was chasing a guy across the tops of buildings. Even after having time to get used to it, Vernon was still surprised by her resilience. “The suit he was wearing that day—remember how it was made of some kind of self-regenerating polymer? It’s literally stuck to his skin. Can’t get it off him.”

“Must be constipated; it explains the anger issues.”

Just then, Yeji caught up to the Leaper. She sprung off a ledge and onto the top of a water tanker, from where she dived towards the unsuspecting criminal, flattening him to the ground. Vernon swung up to her, landing on the ground next to her. Batroc tried to wiggle away, but Vernon webbed his hands and feet to the rooftop, successfully trapping him. “So,” he said, turning his attention back to Yeji. “Any idea where they’re keeping him?”

“If you’re wondering if he’s being kept anywhere close to Osborn, don’t worry.” She placed her hands on her hips. It looked strangely satisfying, her claws aligned with the gray markings around the waist of her white suit. “Rhino’s placed in the Helicarrier for now, but in a special ward designed specifically for the big guys, though th They have specialists looking into his, er, sticky situation, but he’s on an entirely different level than Norman. And I mean that quite literally.”

He nodded. “Did the files mention which specialists are looking into it?”

“Eez it perhaps—” Batroc started.

Vernon webbed his mouth. “Zip it,” he said.

“No. The only files I could access didn’t have much on him,” Yeji said, sounding genuinely sorry. “There was other stuff, like his eye color and his blood type, but I don’t think you’d be very interested in all of that.”

“You think right.”

“There might be more details in the confidential reports coming in from the Helicarrier holder itself, but getting them would be a lot of trouble,” she said. “Although if you really want them—”

“No, it doesn’t matter,” Vernon said, shaking his head. “Thanks for digging up the rest, though. I owe you one.”

“Consider it early payback for when your Aunt May teaches me how to beat your ass at video games.” He couldn’t see her face, but he sensed that underneath the mask, she was smiling.

“Hey, that’s an Aunt May thing, not a me thing,” he said, then paused, hesitating. There was something else he had wanted to ask her, but he didn’t know if he really wanted to follow through with it. “Hey, Tiger…” he trailed off. “Actually, never mind.”

“No, go ahead,” she said. “Unless you’d rather not.”

He shook his head slightly. “It’s not like that,” he said. “This might sound kind of intrusive, but do you know the deal with Fe—Iceman?” he asked. ��Don’t get me wrong, he’s great and everything, but with all the brooding and the secrecy, I’m just a little—” He scrunched up his nose. “That does sound intrusive.”

“It does,” she agreed, but it sounded amused. “Look, I’d tell you. I really would. But it’s something I feel he should tell you yourself, you know? If and when he’s comfortable talking to you about it.”

“Did he tell you?”

“No, I just kind of figured it out.” She sounded a little sheepish. “And maybe I got it out of one of the IT guys.”

He looked at her, amused. “They have IT guys at S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

“Well, I guess they’re not IT guys in the strictest sense,” she mused. “There’s a hierarchy of ranks even within the record regulators, so it’s a little hard to explain. Not that it really matters, anyway.”

“It would be kind of cool if S.H.I.E.L.D. needed IT guys,” Vernon said, looking down at Batroc, except he wasn’t really looking at him, but through him. “Unrealistic, though.”

Yeji shook her head slightly, like she was unable to believe they were having this conversation. Or maybe he was just projecting his own amused disbelief onto her. But he noticed the tenseness of her shoulders and she let her arms fall to her sides, as if she was holding in a laugh. It was one of those conversations that took a turn that didn’t even have to be funny to make you laugh.

“Good talk,” she said, and this time he could actually hear the smile in her voice. “Now let’s get this guy back to the carrier.”

Luce knew something was up.

She had known this for a while now—about a year, in fact. She had only just started to suspect it when Vernon had changed, and Joshua had gotten secretive, and Harry had first started floating away. It had come one after the other, like the three of them were carrying out parts in a play and she was in the audience, watching but unable to take part. Change, and secrecy, and distance.

She liked distance. Luce had always been distant, someone who stood in the crowd and yet apart from it, unwelcome and unsettling for most around her. Eccentric, some called her, or strange, or downright creepy. It never really mattered to her, because for her, it had always been just the four of them—Vernon, Joshua, Harry and her—and even after everything that had happened, they still felt like four. Three people with a ghost in between, still shaking his head at their dumb jokes and still taking the best seat in the Parker living room when they had movie night.

Looking back, she realized that the cracks in their relationship had first appeared a year ago. Often, after Harry died, she thought about how they had collectively ignored those fractures in their friendship, that had come in the form of change and secrets and distance.

The first to change had been Vernon, of course—trading his glasses for unexplained bruises, his mysterious disappearances poorly covered up and rarely questioned. Then Joshua—the two of them with their heads together in the hallways, shooting each other knowing looks that shut everyone out. It felt like it was just the two of them sometimes, Luce and Harry often forgotten during their closed conversations. That was probably what had pushed them together, but now that Harry was gone, she was left alone. Still on the outside, trying to look in, but in vain.

She knew she couldn’t blame Vernon and Joshua for it, she had started to blend into the background a little more with every passing day. Catching one without the other was hard, so at some point she stopped trying, letting them find her whenever they felt like it. Sometimes she felt like a ghost, too, lurking in a ruined castle, only seen when a wanderer needed shelter.

Now, it was all happening again. The arrival of the new kids had seemed like a minor disturbance at first, like a tiny cloud on the wide horizon, but Vernon had warmed up to them surprisingly quickly after his initial coldness. It wasn’t that Luce didn’t like them—after all, she had been the one to initiate first contact—but she had still been taken aback by how quickly they had become a part of their little group of three (and a dead boy, but he didn’t take up seats anymore).

Except they didn’t feel like it. Not to her, and probably not to Joshua either, whom she had seen watch the new trio with lingering looks when he thought she wasn’t looking.

She was a little surprised by her own reserve, because the arrival of more people should have been a good sign. More people, even numbers, pairs, so she wouldn’t be a third wheel anymore. But it hadn’t worked out that way—she was still stuck outside, but this time Joshua was stuck with her.

It was hard not to be even a little mournful.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” she called as Vernon walked past her in the school hallway after fifth period, looking distracted as he usually did these days. He turned, surprised, as if he hadn’t even noticed her there.

“Me?” he asked, looking confused, and she sighed internally. On the outside, she simply shook her head as if in amused exasperation, reaching into her bag and taking out a spiral notebook.

“Notes. From Physics.” She handed it to him, and he stared at the cover for a dazed little moment before looking back up at her. “You missed another class today.”

“Right,” he muttered, giving her a grateful smile. Fifteen seconds had passed already, about five seconds less than the longest conversation they had held in two weeks. He probably hadn’t even realized. “Thanks.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said, meaning it. No point in moping after something that hadn’t been for months. She leaned against the locker door and folded her arms across her chest. The zips along the cuffs of her jacket pulled against the leather. “Going somewhere?”

“Not really.” He shrugged. The smile was still on his face, that stupidly delightful half-smile that still felt like it was behind a glass wall. “Are you?”

Am I ever? She shook her head. “Where did you go?” she asked instead of answering his question.

He frowned. “Where did I go…when?”

“During physics,” she clarified. “You’ve been disappearing a lot lately.”

“Oh, you know…” he started, trying hard to keep his voice casual. “Places.”

It was hard not to smile. “Like?”

“The principal’s office,” he said, sounding a little disappointed.

“The new guy?” Luce raised her eyebrows. “Did you do something to piss him off? Get a low grade?”

“Of course not,” Vernon said indignantly. “My scores are perfect.”

“I know. The rest of us on the curve are suffering because of it.”

“Sorry,” he said, not sounding sorry in the least. Instead, there was a small smile on his face that looked suspiciously like a smirk.

Almost a minute now. Luce let the back of her head hit the locker door, finally letting herself believe that he wasn’t going anywhere, not this time around. The feeling that came with it was so warm and delicious that it spread inside her chest like hot water, reaching her toes and fingers and the tip of her nose. “You’re not sorry,” she said with a smile, though she didn’t really mind. “Are we still on for Friday?”

Now Vernon’s smirk dropped, replaced by a split-second look of horror. “Friday?” he echoed. “This is going to sound bad, but I don’t—”

“Movie night,” she supplied. “And don’t worry, I didn’t expect you to remember. The last time we talked about that was a while ago, anyway.”

Movie night, or game night, was their irregular childhood tradition that had become increasingly infrequent over the past few years, but particularly so in the last year. Even then, they’d never gone this long without getting together at least once. The last time they’d done something like that together, it had been almost two months ago, when they had still been four.

When Luce finally mentioned it, she felt strange thinking about the prospect of movie night with only three people. It felt odd. Unnatural. Three felt like the wrong number, like fates and the prongs of a pitchfork. Too little.

“Tell you what,” she said, pulling herself out of her thoughts with difficulty. She did that too much, lose herself in her memories or some random vein of thought and manage to completely detach herself from the world around her. It got harder and harder every time, and sometimes she wondered if one day she was just going to be trapped in her own mind.

“What?” Vernon asked. He had that distracted look on his face again, his posture jumpy like there was extra energy wrapped into his body.

“Why don’t you bring Yeji and the others along this time?” she suggested. Six wasn’t that great of a number either, but it was definitely better than three. And maybe this way she’d be able to get to know the others a little better, pull herself back to reality. “I’m sure they’d like to. And that way, it’ll be an even team.”

“Not if May decides to join in again.”

She smiled. “Then maybe I’ll bring Hairball.”

He groaned. “Oh, no, not Hairball,” he said, eyes refocusing on her face. There was such a vibrant intensity in his gaze that it made her want to stand up straighter. Then he smiled, and she actually had to stand up straight. “You sure, though?”

Of course he would ask her. Vernon Parker, despite all his bodily changes, was still the same guy from fourth grade who always let her have the rest of his lunch—if he managed to keep it from Flash. Luce was almost tempted to reconsider, but she saw the earnest look on his face, the slight arch of his eyebrows, and swallowed the words that welled up in her throat.

“Of course,” she said. “Three’s already a crowd, so we might as well have a whole party.”

“A party, huh?” He winced. “That reminds me. Food.”

“We’ll order from Larry’s.”

“I’ll have to decide if they deserve it yet,” he joked. At least, she thought he was joking. “See you on Friday.”

[somekindoftuber]

vld youtuber AU (klance, part 7)

hey so who’s up for some a n g s t

(content warning for this chapter: vomit)

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six

.

“Favorite color?”

“Red.”

“Cool, mine’s blue. Um, favorite subject in school?”

“....Math?”

“Ew.”

“Lance,” Keith laughs over the mic. “You said no judgment. I was good at math.”

Leaning back, Lance pops his back. “Yeah, okay, fine. Mine was history.”

“Ew.”

They’d been sitting in the Overwatch menu screen for at least a half-hour, Keith indulging Lance in a question swap. “You know,” Keith says after taking a drink of his soda. “When I said we should get to know each other, I sort of expected something more.... Organic than 20 questions.”

“What, my methods aren’t free-range enough for you?” Lance joked, and Keith laughed loud at that one. “Well, you should know, Keith, that I have this tendency to focus on things that I want, and I don’t give up easily.”

Keith went silent for a second. “Things you want, huh?” His voice was low.

Lance felt the heat rush to his face. “U-um.”

“Sorry,” Keith said. “Too much?”

Lance chewed his lip. “Is it too much for you?”

Keith’s tongue clicked through the headphones over Lance’s ears, and when he spoke, his voice was almost sultry. “Nah. Besides, I can be pretty driven when I want something, too.”

Dear lord, this man was going to be the death of him. Now that they’d gotten their feelings out in the open, Lance was discovering a side of Keith he never knew existed - a bold, fearless, self-assured side. And holy shit, was it hot, if a little terrifying. Whatever reservations Keith had about flirting before now were long gone, and it would still throw lance for a serious loop to hear Keith directing low key innuendo at him.

“Here’s one for you,” Keith said. “When did you first play guitar?”

“Oh!” Lance grinned. “I was nine. I had already been playing the piano for two years, but it sort of bored me. I couldn’t get it to make the kind of sound I wanted, if that makes sense? Then my dad got his old acoustic guitar out of storage and got it repaired and restrung. When he played it, I knew it was the sound I’d been trying to find.” His eyes went misty as he remembered the first time he plucked one of the steel strings. “It sounded like heaven.”

“Wow,” Keith said after a minute.

“Your turn. How’d you know you wanted to be a pilot?”

Keith hummed. “I was always sort of an adrenaline junkie as a kid. Raced go-karts, ran track, got in trouble, did some free running. I… spent a lot of time in and out of foster care, which was a pretty numbing experience, so I think maybe I was looking for something to make me feel alive.”

Lance had no idea what to say to that, so he kept quiet.

“I went on a field trip to an air force museum with my school when I was thirteen,” Keith continued. “There was a reconstructed Grumman F-14 Tomcat on display, and when I looked at it, I just thought, I need to be in one of those.” He let out a little laugh. “That’s also where I met Shiro. Or, well, he met me. When I stole his car.”

Lance choked, beating his fist on his chest to get air back into his lungs. “Excuse me?”

Then Keith laughed long and loud. “Told you. Adrenaline junkie. I was a brat with something to prove.”

Lance stared at his computer screen. This was intense, and he had a feeling that he was only scratching the surface of who Keith really was.

-----

October began, and Lance was officially panicking. Because Keith’s birthday was at the end of this month and he really wanted to do something special for it. Now that they were hovering in some bizarre “not boyfriends yet” zone, Lance figured it wouldn’t be too much to maybe go a little further than he would for a friend.

He got out his guitar, a notebook, blank music sheets, and a pencil.

——-

Lance’s channel was gaining followers rapidly. He was no stranger to having an online following, but he had to change his notification settings on twitter to keep his phone from blowing up constantly. He pondered making a separate, locked account for himself, something his friends could follow where he could drop the YouTube persona.

He was sort of envious of Keith’s anonymity online.

And speaking of Keith, there was also the issue of a potential move to Springdale. Lance had looked up schools in the area, and the local community college had a music education program that he could afford. He’d closed his browser and walked away from his laptop after he had that confirmation and spent the next fifteen minutes pacing around the living room, running his hands through his hair until it was sticking up all over the place. It hadn’t felt real until that moment; before that, the idea of going back to school and pursuing an actual career had been just that -- and idea. But now? Now he couldn’t really make excuses anymore. It was all very much within his reach. He just had to muster up the courage to go for it.

Easier said than done.

Lance ended up stress eating half a carton of butter pecan ice cream by the time Pidge came home from class.

Lance posted more Overwatch videos in the meantime, held some more streams. His content was slowing down because he’d taken an extra shift every week at the cafe to save up money. He had no idea what his living situation was going to be come January, but it was safer to assume he’d be on his own and have the money to support himself.

He talked to Keith almost every day. They’d started using facetime, and that did a number on poor Lance’s heart, to get to see Keith’s face while talking to him. Keith was still unfarily, stupidly, irrevocably attractive, even when he was flushed and sweaty from working out or covered in grime from the garage. One time Keith had called when Lance was wearing a face mask, and Lance would have been embarrassed, if it wasn’t for the absolutely hilarious confusion that crossed Keith’s face at the sight.

“I’m kind of big on skin care, if you haven’t noticed.”

“Uh.” Keith’s thick eyebrows pinched together. “I hadn’t?”

Lance smiled as much as he could with the mask drying on his face. “Well, get used to it. It’s a packaged deal with me.”

Keith gave him a little grin then, and Lance nearly swooned.

.

Another night, as they were messing around in Overwatch, the topic of tattoos came up. “Do you have more than one? Tattoo, I mean,” Lance asked while they scrolled through servers.

“Just the one,” Keith answered. “I kinda want more, but I’m not sure what I’d get. You?”

“None.” Lance hummed. “How big is that lion, anyway? I could only see the top bit at the beach.”

“Not that big,” Keith answered. Then there was some shuffling from his end of the voice chat, and he went quiet for a second. Lance thought he heard a click.

“You okay over there?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just - gimme a sec - there.”

Lance’s phone buzzed at his side. He picked it up, the motion completely automatic, to see a new text. He used his thumb print to open it, and the entire universe ground to a screeching halt.

Because on the screen was Keith’s lion tattoo, in its entirety, the dark red ink carved neatly into Keith’s exposed hip. At the bottom of the frame, a thumb was hooked into the hem of a pair of sweatpants, pulling them down and away, and at the top, a dark gray shirt was rucked up to reveal a toned stomach. Lance’s heart might have stopped. There was so much skin, all smooth and milky, stretched over a sharp hipbone, the sweatpants pulled down just enough to reveal the tiny beginnings of dark hair below. Lance’s mouth watered.

“You still there?” Keith was asking, a smile in his voice, but Lance.exe had stopped working.

“Jesus Christo,” Lance breathed. “You -- you gotta warn me before you do that.”

He heard Keith huff a little laugh. “Sorry.”

Lance had the distinct impression that Keith wasn’t sorry at all.

-----

Lance might have pulled a few all-nighters in the course of the month. But he was running out of time, and he wouldn’t be satisfied until it was perfect. This was for Keith, for his birthday, and Lance absolutely did not half ass things like that.

Pidge just rolled her eyes at him and went back to her thesis, heedless of Lance’s internal crisis as she tapped away at her laptop.

He was finally, finally ready to record on the 18th. It took at least four tries to get one good take, and then he had to record backup vocals, additional guitar, piano. It took three days to get the song right, and he didn’t even have a video. A blank screen would have to do.

He set the video to post at 8:00am the next morning, October 23. He really, really hoped Keith would see it, and Lance listened to the song one last time before he went to bed.

I was wondering through, I’d never heard your voice You were just an idea on a screen I was belly up, dried up, a fish out of water Pretending that I could breathe air

But then I met you, and my world burst into color Where was I going before you came my way I don’t know, I don’t care, and I don’t think it matters I’m just so glad that I met you

I had no direction, you handed me a map And it’s pointing me your way I hope that’s alright, ‘cause I sort of can’t help it, You’re drawing me to you, and I don’t want to stop

Because my world is all color now that you’re in it So bright and beautiful, just like your smile And no matter what happens, I want you to know Darling I am so glad that I met you.

In the description, Lance wrote “happy birthday” with a heart emoji, then clicked “schedule video” and let the fates have it. He went to bed with a nervous jitter in his veins.

The next morning, Lance was still anxious as hell, so he went for a long run through the brisk autumn air. After five miles he came home and made some coffee, as it was brewing, his phone rang.

Keith’s number was on the screen.

Lance cleared his throat and picked up. “Hey Keith!” he started, happy that the words only shook a little bit. “What’s up?”

“Hey,” Keith answered. His voice sounded strange. “I, um. I saw the video you posted.”

Lance felt his whole body flash hot as he bit his lip. “Happy Birthday, Keith.”

There was shuffling on the other end of the line. “That was for me?”

“Yeah.”

Keith was quiet for a long time. Then a sudden wet sniffle came through, and Lance felt himself panic. “Keith?”

“Sorry,” Keith’s voice cracked. “Sorry, I just--” he broke off with another sniffle, louder this time. “I’m not used to that. To people doing nice things for me.”

Oh god. Lance had made him cry. And the sound was so sad that Lance felt his own eyes sting.  “You okay?”

Keith laughed, the sound wet and strained. “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. Just. Wow, Lance.”

“Get used to it,” Lance said softly. “I’m definitely the type for grand gestures.”

Another small laugh, then some more sniffling. “What did I do,” Keith whispered, “to deserve someone like you?”

Lance leaned against the counter top behind him, his heart hammering in his chest. “I ask myself that all the time.”

“Oh my god, stop,” Keith groaned, but Lance could hear a smile in his voice. “I have to go to work in an hour. How am I supposed to concentrate now?”

“You’re working on your birthday?”

Lance heard a grunt and the scrape of a chair. “I always do. My birthday’s never been a big deal to me. I think Shiro wants to barbeque tonight, though.”

The coffee maker beeped, and Lance poured himself a cup. “Would it be alright if I made it a big deal?”

Keith hummed. “If that’s what a big deal is to you, then I guess I’ll just have to get used to it, won’t I?”

“Yeah, I guess you will.”

-----

Pidge forwarded an email to Lance the next week. A science conference was being held in Charlotte at the end of the month, and she was going.

“I’ll probably be gone the whole weekend. I’m driving with some classmates, so you can have the apartment to yourself.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Or maybe have someone over.”

“Pidge,” Lance chided, rolling his eyes as she laughed into her coffee.

She was right, though. Lance could have someone over. Of course, there was only one ‘someone’ in mind - but would that be too fast? To ask Keith to come stay the weekend here? Alone with Lance?

His face went hot at the thought. A whole weekend alone with Keith.

They’d only been apart from each other for a little over a month, and facetime was nice and all, but Lance missed him. In person, Keith exuded this… energy that didn’t come through a phone line or internet connection. It was sort of intoxicating, making Lance want to get closer and closer. But would that be too much?

Lance mentally beat himself up for an hour before messaging Keith on discord about it.

LanceyLance Hey so Pidge is going out of town for a conference thing just after Thanksgiving. Would you want to come down here to chill? We can livestream or smth

Keith uh yeah I think that would be okay. what days

LanceyLance nov 28-30

Keith okay cool let me check some things and I’ll get back to you

Lance wondered if “almost throwing up from sheer nerves because I might get to spend a weekend alone with a hot boy” was a good reason to call into work. He went in for his shift anyway and was only slightly distracted. On his break, Lance checked his phone and found a new message from Keith on Discord.

Keith so that weekend looks okay, I put in for time off

LanceyLance cool!

Lance ruined the next three drinks, his heart in his throat.

Later that night, he got on a voice chat with Keith, his heart pounding despite him telling it over and over to calm the hell down.

“I was thinking we could do a livestream, maybe some Overwatch?” Lance said as he picked at a cuticle. “You could be my special guest.”

Keith did that little airy chuckle that made Lance shiver. “As long as you don’t ask me to sing.”

“No promises.” Biting his lip, Lance took a breath. He might as well ask. “You sure you’re okay with this? It’s not, like, moving too fast?”

Keith hummed. “No? I mean, I figured we were just gonna hang out… Why?” his voice dropped. “Did you have other plans?”

“No,” Lance squawked, cursing how his voice cracked. “No, I mean, you said you wanted to go slow, so I was just thinking we could just play some games, maybe watch a movie or go to the marina. That’s okay, right…?”

“Yeah,” Keith breathed, and Lance could hear the smile. “Yeah, that’s cool.”

A hot wash of embarrassment hit Lance, and he covered his face and groaned. Keith laughed a little. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Lance’s voice was muffled by his hands. “Yeah. I just -- jeeze. I must sound desperate or something.”

“It’s not just you,” Keith said softly. “I mean, same, I guess? I know I said I wanted to take this slow, but honestly, it’s turning out to be harder than I expected.”

The admission was unexpected and sent Lance’s blood pressure through the roof. He could already tell it was going to be a struggle to keep his hands to himself.

-----

One week until Keith’s visit. Pidge was packing her bag early and giving Lance absolute hell about it.

“Use protection,” she said, stuffing a shirt into a suitcase. Lance sputtered.

“Oh knock it off!” He shrieked. “He’s coming to hang out. That’s it!”

Pidge shot him a skeptical look as she folded a pair of jeans over her arm. “Sure, sure. Just do me a favor and disinfect any surfaces you decided to ‘hang out’ on.”

Lance threw up his arms in defeat, then went to his computer. He and Keith had already planned out their livestream, and decided it was close enough to make an announcement.

Lance! @lanceylance Hey everyone! Next Friday (11/28) I’ll be holding a livestream with special guest @k_redlion! Stream begins at 4pm eastern. Be there!!

.

Pidge left early Friday morning, and in the four hours until Keith was supposed to arrive, Lance did one of the most thorough cleanings of the apartment he’d ever done. He dusted, vacuumed, scrubbed and mopped, did laundry and the dishes, changed the sheets on his bed, washed the spare set of sheets for the pull out sofa.

Satisfied, he jumped in the shower and gave himself and equally thorough scrub down. He was all nerves as he dried off and dressed. He was admiring his handiwork in the living room when his phone buzzed.

Keith made it into town, be there in 10

Lance bounced on his heels and went outside to wait. After a few minutes, a dark blue sedan with Virginia plates pulled up and into a parking spot. The engine shut off, and the door opened to reveal Keith, in his leather jacket with his hair pulled up high.

“Nice car,” was the first thing that came out of Lance’s mouth. He internally groaned.

“Rental,” Keith said, closing the driver’s door and going for the back seat. “I love my bike, but five hours on it is a bit much, especially when it’s cold.”

Lance took Keith’s duffel bag for him and led him up to the apartment. He’d set up their streaming area in the living room where they’d be closest to the router.

“The stream isn’t for another three hours,” Lance said, setting Keith’s bag on the chair. “Wanna relax until then?”

Keith slipped out of his jacket, revealing a dark gray sweater that stretched nicely across his chest. “Sounds good. That drive is a little tiring.”

Once Lance had gotten them both glasses of water from the kitchen, they decided on YouTube fail videos, sitting next to each other on the couch, close, but not too close. Keith’s laugh was such a nice sound, and Lance couldn’t help but lean a little in his direction. After an hour’s worth of cats and people slipping and falling, Keith grunted, grimacing.

“You okay?” Lance asked.

Keith gave him a smile. “Yeah, my stomach’s kind of upset. That gas station poptart might not have been a good idea.”

Standing, Lance moved towards the kitchen. “I’ve got some pickled ginger in the fridge, would that help?”

Keith followed him. “Yeah, probably.”

As soon as Lance opened his fridge, horror dawned upon him. “I didn’t get us any stream snacks!”

“It’s not a big deal?” Keith said slowly. Lance handed him the jar of sushi ginger and shook his head.

“It totally is! We need proper junk food for streaming.” He pursed his lips and tapped his chin. “Are you okay if I hit the store? It won’t take long.”

Keith shrugged with the jar in his hand. “Yeah, I’m good. I’ll just hang out and rest.”

He showed Keith where the forks were, taking a little delight in seeing how Keith ate the ginger straight out of the jar just like he did, then grabbed his shopping bags. “I’ve got my phone, text me if you want anything!”

The drive to the store was short, and Lance sped through the aisles with a basket on his arm. Gourmet sodas, the nice veggie chips, lemon cream cookies, a package of fresh strawberries. He’d take Keith out for dinner, maybe Vinnie’s again. This weekend was going to be awesome.

On the way home, however, Lance got stuck in stand-still traffic - he could see just far enough ahead to tell there had been an accident. And there was nowhere for him to turn off to for another few hundred feet, so he was stuck. Frowning, he pulled out his phone and shot a text to Keith.

stuck in traffic, might be a little late

He put Pandora on his phone and turned up the volume, shifting his car into park.

By the time Lance made it back to the apartment, he’d been gone for more than an hour and a half. The living room was empty, but Lance went straight for the kitchen. The stream was set to start in 45 minutes, so they needed to start setting up. “Keith?” Lance called as he stashed the groceries in the fridge. “You good, man? We should get started soon.”

There was no answer.

“Keith?” Lance poked his head out of the kitchen. “You here?” He pulled his phone out of his pocket to see if he’d missed a text as he went towards the back of the apartment. Rounding a corner, Lance stopped. His phone clattered to the floor.

Just outside the bathroom, face down in the hallway, was Keith.

Lance slid on his knees towards him. “Keith!” Reaching for him, he turned Keith over, and gasped. His face was bright red, his eyes screwed shut. He was sweating profusely and burning up with a fever. “Keith!” Lance called again. “Hey, man, answer me!”

Keith’s eyes flickered. “L-lance?” he grunted, his voice weak. “It hurts, oh god Lance, it hurts so bad--”

Adrenaline was dumping into Lance’s bloodstream as he went into full panic mode. “What hurts? What’s wrong? Keith!” But Keith stopped responding, his breathing sounding wheezy and shallow.

“Shit,” Lance muttered, clutching Keith close to his chest. “Shit shit shit!”

His phone was five feet away. He should call 911. But who knows how long an ambulance would take and the hospital was five minutes away, he could get there faster on his own--

Lance had grabbed his phone and hoisted Keith into his arms before he realized it. And shit, Keith was heavy, making Lance stumble and lean against a wall more than once as he made it out of his apartment and to his car, where he dropped  Keith on the back seat.

He’d never driven so aggressively in his life.

Lance screeched to a halt outside the ER doors, and barely managed to put his car in park. He opened the back door and pulled Keith out, hooking one of Keiths’ arms around his neck and half-carrying him inside.

“Hey,” he called out. “Hey, I need some help here--”

At his side, Keith made a choking sound, then curled in on himself and vomited.

The whole world became too fast and too slow. Several nurses ran up to them, pulling Keith away. A clattering gurney was brought out. As Keith’s limp body was hoisted on to it, Lance barely registered someone talking to him, asking him what happened.

“I don’t know,” Lance’s throat was closing. “I don’t know, he was fine two hours ago--”

More questions, but Lance couldn’t hear them. All he could focus on was Keith, unconscious on a hospital stretcher, disappearing down a hallway as nurses ran beside him.

.

TO BE CONTINUED!!

(don’t worry guys, Keith is gonna be fine!! But Lance doesn’t know that OvO)

[jksangelic]

peaches & piercings | two (m)

↳ rating: M

↳ genre: punk!jimin, e2l, college au, very explicit smut, one-shot, jimin is a whole asshole

↳ pairing: cheerleader!reader x punk!jimin

↳ warnings: light sexual themes, explicit language, hurt/comfort

↳ summary: jimin, dipped in hair-dye and pierced in so many places that you just couldn’t keep track, doesn’t think you’re his “type”. you call bullshit.

↳ note: second part! this doesn’t contain any smut, unfortunately. just some closure for those who come for plot. enjoy.

↳ words: 8.4k

↳ parts: one | two (complete)

Nothing but heavy breathing. Too much saliva. Did this girl even know how to properly kiss? Nonetheless, he was hard.

How the fuck did I get here, he ponders, feeling nothing but lusty guilt and, possibly, bile in the back of his throat.

“You’re so hot,” Jennie drawls between kisses, fiddling drunkenly with Jimin’s zipper and whining when the damn thing wouldn’t budge. She resorts to palming his bulge over his black ripped jeans.

“Pretty girl,” he compliments, nudging himself into her small hand and groping her breasts. He’s been with enough girls to tell that her bra was incredibly padded. The party raged downstairs, screams and laughter vibrating the entire frat house. American parties were crazy, Jimin thought.

He also thought he was done with this, done being some gross playboy that entitled himself inside any girl he laid eyes on, but he was fucking scared. You scared the living daylights out of him. So he’s doing what he knows best.

The girl was already stripped down to her underwear within the first minute, not really into the whole “build-up” that he normally enjoyed. When he busied himself with planting kisses along her collarbones, she complains, yet again, when he doesn’t get on with it.

He rolls his eyes, undoing the damn zipper himself and pulling down his boxers enough for her to access. She gasps, surprised.

“You’re Korean? I’m surprised you’re this big. I didn’t believe the other girls when they told me.” She talks so damn much, Jimin might implode. Rather, he just grows soft from the backhanded compliment.

This was his first night out since seeing you last, have been avoiding you for a few days to try to find some sort of explanation behind his jumbled thoughts. It, however, wasn’t his first night out since he had discovered he was hopelessly in love with you, hiding his denial by hooking up with whoever was prettiest at frat row parties. He was disgusted with himself.

Before he knows it, he’s tucking himself back in and leaving an angered Jennie and searching for Yoongi to drive him back home. Jimin was way too intoxicated to be around girls that want to use him for the sake of bragging rights. You were right, it really was like everyone kept tabs on who got to fuck who and the points they received for such encounters. He scrunches his nose in disgust.

He moves clumsily, nearly tumbling down the stairs and getting lost in the sea of bodies that danced on the first floor. God, he could hear colors. He even bumps into some classmate (wearing a hoodie at that, poor girl must’ve been baking), tiny voice asking if he’s okay and he just throws up a thumb and continues his search. At some point, he finds Yoongi man-spread on the couch, sleepily cooing into some girl’s ear as they giggle like they care what he’s saying.

“Yoongs,” Jimin slurs, “home. Please.” He doesn’t remember if he makes a face of friendly obedience or a face of you-just-cockblocked-me-bro but he gets up anyway and checks for his keys for at least two minutes before finding them on a lanyard around his neck. Even Yoongi is too drunk to drive but he doesn’t really care about their own safety at this point. Harsh reality of college.

Eventually, both of them stumble into their apartment around 2 in the morning, Yoongi raiding the pantry for something to calm his munchies and Jimin rinsing his face with cold water next to him. He felt the sudden need to wash off whatever filth Jennie left on him.

His roommate must’ve read his mind, nudging his shoulder and slurring a, “I’m surprised you didn’t fuck Jennie or bring her back with you. She was sexy as hell.”

“How did you know I didn’t have sex with her when I was there?”

“Dude, I can just tell. You don’t look like you had a recent orgasm, you look like you ate a bad quesadilla.” Yoongi laughs at his own joke like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever said.

Jimin shrugs, not really feeling an explanation. Instead, he locates his phone he left on the counter before going to the party and turns it on, scrolling through a couple Instagram notifications and 2 new messages from you. He hadn’t been answering any, but he was happy you still cared in his own messed up way.

He smirks at them, imagining how much better his night could’ve gone if you had been with him instead of stupid Jessica. Or Jennie. Or something.

“Ooh,” Yoongi teases, stealing his phone and uninvitingly reading through the message thread, “you’re still talking to this girl? The cheerleader? That’s hilarious, dude, she’s so not your type.”

Jimin laughs nervously, colliding with Yoongi and reaching out for his phone, “C’mon, Hyung. Give it back. She’s hot.” Calling you “hot” didn’t sit right on his tongue, but he ignored it. Yoongi continues being a dick, waving his phone in Jimin’s face then swiping it away when he attempts to take it back.

“Can’t get enough of her, huh? Does she just have Class A pussy? Shit, think you’d let me have a go?”

Jimin’s blood boils, shoving Yoongi into the nearby wall with more force than intended and confiscating the phone, shuffling it into his back pocket before grabbing his collar and trapping him. He looks maniacal, nose flaring and eyes bloodshot.

“Talk about her like that and I’ll break your skinny ass legs, Hyung. Don’t fucking touch her.”

Yoongi just smiles, throwing up hands as a white flag. He was older than Jimin, sure, but he knew his place when it came to physical advantage. When Jimin lets him go, Yoongi takes out his pack of cigs, placing one between his lips and offering a cooling Jimin one as peace offering.

Although he doesn’t want to, he takes it and storms into his room.

What the actual hell is he doing. He shouldn’t be out partying of all things, he should grow the fuck up and confront you. Just accept what you were willing to give him and live happily, wholeheartedly.

That’s it. Tomorrow, he would sober the fuck up and tell you.

He flops onto his bed, staring at the ceiling and foggy memory reminding him of when he was under yours, the first day he took initiative to change something. He pulls his phone out, reading over your messages silently and smiling whenever he skimmed over one of your purposefully-unattractive-but-still-attractive selfies. He always saved every single one of them.

It leads to scrolling through his small photo gallery, a couple of blurry photos from tonight his most recent, a few of those saved selfies before them, and that one video. Thumb hovering over, it forces him to play it.

It starts with giggling—his own, before the shaky camera focuses on a body behind the front counter of a record store that he happened to pass by. Some American song he’s never listened to blares overhead, a very excited and very loud singing you swaying your hips to the music. At some point, you even used a rolled up poster as your mic and hit every sour note there was. Jimin in the video laughs again, and the video shortly ends after your eyes widen in horror and connect with his phone.

He plays it two, no, three more times before he’s content and completely simmering in adoration for you. Somehow remembering to discard his pants and shut off the light, he decides to browse through his Snapchat briefly before turning in for the night. He saves your story for last, preparing himself for whatever uniform mirror pic you took (although, he secretly loved that bright ass uniform).

You posted four hours ago, grainy photo depicting you and a friend with red solo cups near your faces and white, toothy smiles shining brightly. For some odd reason, you’re wearing one of your gray cheer hoodies despite the warmth, hood barely revealing your right eye in the photo.

Jimin practically chokes, shooting up from his bed and trying so damn hard to recollect his memories before leaving the party.

“Fucking hell. Fuckfuckfuck.”

He didn’t just bump into some “classmate” wearing a hoodie, he bumped into you.

Three days. Three, unfulfilling, dreadful, and, quite expected, days since you were at Jimin’s. You patiently waited, gathering up every cell in your body and lecturing them to persevere and not force yourself back to his home in an angered blob of psychotic mess.

You went to class, you came back to your room, slept, went to cheer, and slept more. All in that order. You’d hope you would run into him at class and at least read his face, see what kind of state he was in and gather enough intel to come to some sort of conclusion—it was the uncertainty that made you nervous—but he never showed up. In your eyes, it was a simple yes or no, but it would also be wrong of you to rush a mental argument that wasn’t your own.

It worried you even more that he was skipping class because of it. Although he might not look it, he was very much into his studies and wouldn’t just play hooky out of nowhere. Which then made you wonder if there was something else that was bothering him, completely irrelevant to your own situation. Which then made you ballistic.

Maybe you were overthinking this. Maybe everything was fine and he truly just did need some time to himself and who were you to judge him for making a clear, healthy decision?

You slick your slightly sweaty hair into some abomination of a ponytail, having just gotten out of mandatory conditioning and exhausted beyond belief. It was barely reaching eight in the evening but the California sun was already set, majority of the day warmth creeping out and being replaced with a satisfying breeze.

The door squeals, Sara giving you a sympathetic smile on her way in. She knew the gist of what was going on, and you thanked the roommate process for giving you such an understanding gal that kept her “told you so” urges at bay.

“How you holding up? Did you go to cheer?” She lugs her backpack, which seems heavier than normal, upon her bed.

You shrug, “I went to cheer. I’ll probably just turn in soon.”

“That’s the thing,” she starts, unveiling a large bottle of Ciroc from her bag, “I think you should reconsider your plans for tonight.” Sighing audibly, you start to climb into bed to show your reluctance.

“Look, Sara, it’s really nice of you to—”

“No, Y/N, listen. You’ve been sitting around moping because of him and if he’s going to make you wait for his own goddamn approval then you can at least have some fun in the meantime. I even bought this extremely special bottle of vodka so we don’t have to drink cheap shit at Alpha Sig’s and—”

“You’re seriously trying to drag me to a party? Sara, I’m really not in the mood to be around drunk people and I haven’t even showered and what if Jimin texts me and I just don’t know,” you trail on and on, biting your nails out of habit and shoulders hanging in defeat.

“Hey,” your roommate coos, “don’t be such a worrywart.” She takes authority to untangle your hair from its hair-tie, smoothing it out with her own brush and braiding a random strand on the thicker side of your part line. Warning you prior, she sprits your face with some makeup-guru refresher spray and hands you her Chapstick.

“You look pretty, literally all the time. You don’t even have to change since it’s just a random party. Wear your stinky cheer hoodie and your spandex and throw on your sneakers and,” she pauses to unscrew the lid to the Ciroc, “take a swig of this and we’ll just go for a couple hours.”

Deep down, you knew she was right. You were obsessing to a whole new level and just needed to chill out. That, and you did owe her some obedience after disregarding her last warning. You brought the glass to your lips, burn barely stinging down your throat from practice (and high quality vodka) and waiting patiently as Sara touches up her own makeup. She even throws on a ratty t-shirt, presumably to make you feel better and you wanted to cry from how good of a friend she turned out to be.

“Ready?” she peeps, packing the bottle, her phone, and her wallet back into her bag.

You hesitate; what if Jimin really was going to call you tonight?

So what if he did? You can’t wait around like his dog, at his beck and call only when he deems it “time”. To hell with that, you were still your own person and if worse comes to worse, you’d get back to him when you’re free.

“Ready.”

You’re fuzzy by the time you get to the Alpha Sigma house, Sara dedicating her night as DD and stopping you after another two shots in the car. You’re both flurried with greetings all the way to the kitchen, some faces you even recognize from cheer and you laugh at the irony of it all. Even Suzy was here, slinging her arm around your shoulders and sloshing some of her beer onto your hoodie.

“Shit, sorry. I think I filled this cup way too much. Wanna half it with me? ‘S just beer,” she giggles, dumping half of it somewhat messily into another solo cup and handing it to you before you can even nod.

“Are you ‘kay? By the way? Seem sad at practice,” Suzy pouts, sipping on the beer and scrunching her nose from its bitter taste.

You snort, “I’m fine. Just some boy problems, I guess. I don’t really know if this guy likes me or not? I mean, he does, but I don’t know. I’m rambling,” you awkwardly laugh. Suzy doesn’t mind one bit, hanging onto every incoherent word with a look of suspicion.

“Y/N, everyone likes you! You just need to bite back, you know? Guys don’t like apples they can pick from the ground, they like the ones in the trees!”

“… Wait, what?”

“I think she means that if you make him work for you, he’ll be more interested than someone who’s just pining after him,” Sara translates, obviously very entertained by two drunk girls trying to solve a problem.

“Yeah! That’s what I said,” Suzy pouts, “Anyway, gimme your phone!”

You don’t know why but you do. Why are you always giving people your phone without asking why they need it first? She goes straight for Snapchat, reaching the phone around your face again and posing with her beer; you do the same, replacing most of your face with your cup.

“No,” she whines, “you have to show how pretty you look and how much fun you’re having so he gets interested in what you’re doing.” You try again, cup below your lips as you flash a bright smile, one that reaches your eyes. In the midst of it all, the camera shutters and you and Suzy study it.

Perhaps it was from the drinks, but you glow in the picture with a reddened nose and your hoodie covering one of your eyes, the motion in the shot giving it character. You looked like the epitome of fun.

“This one’s perfect,” Suzy says, typing in a flurry of horrendous emojis as the caption and sending it to your story. “You’ll hear from him in no time,” she assures.

The rest of the night goes as planned, beer pong and dancing and holding Suzy’s hair as she dry heaves into the toilet but going for another round when nothing comes up. You feel relieved for the first time this week, actually.

Eventually, you lose Sara in the crowd so you venture around by yourself, talking to a few acquainted faces and finally settling in a corner of the living room for a quick breather. Pulling out your phone, a flash of mint crosses the horizon and a sense of familiarity piques your interest. Locking eyes on the source, you find Yoongi sitting on the couch opposite of you, completely absorbed in a conversation with some petite girl with various piercings sprawled on his lap. Your stomach clenches.

If Yoongi was here, there was a large chance Jimin was, right? Instead of asking him, you scramble to get as far away from his presence as possible, tripping over chairs and a coffee table and rugs until you round a corner as quickly as possible and—

“Ah,” a voice grunts, thumping back into the nearby wall from the collision.

“I-I’m sorry, are you okay?” you mumble, pulling your hoodie back on for safety and making eye contact with the man’s open fly. He just throws up a thumbs-up as response, far too drunk to pull together a sentence, let alone an apology.

You realize, now, that this man wears all-black, smelling of cigarette smoke and a little of women’s perfume, and your heart plunges when you see Jimin’s profile as he maneuvers his way past you.

You worried for days on end about him, and he was just partying? Was he fucking joking? He didn’t even recognize you, he was so plastered.

Slumping your back against the same wall, your brain is surprisingly calmer than you expect. You couldn’t judge him when you were at the same party, he probably needed to let loose too.

“Jennie! Where the hell did you go? I’ve been lookin’ for you for, like, twenty minutes!”

Suddenly sensitive to the overall volume of the party and obnoxious girls, you start to turn to find Sara.

“Chill out, Em. Was trying out that new transfer student for a ride,” her saccharine voice purrs. You whip your head in horror.

“He was fun, sure as hell lived up to the expectations,” she continues.

“No shit, you were with Park Jimin?” her friend, supposedly Em, squeals.

You don’t hear Jennie’s answer, tears stinging hot down your cheeks and legs wobbly as you search the downstairs for Sara. She takes you home without asking what happened.

It was a lot better than you thought it was going to be.

The pain, you mean. And the small dosage of utter humiliation that followed the next day. It wasn’t even that big of a deal once you thought about the Grand Scheme of Things; you got rejected, in a shitty way sure, but it was just a rejection. You knew that eventually you would move on once your classes switched and you would hear about Jimin way less and you’d find someone else to focus your attention on and all would be numb and forgotten.

Sara prodded for an explanation, knowing there was some sort of trigger to cause you to sob on her shoulder in drunken defeat and tearing her away from the party before it was even close to being over. For majority of her questions, you dodged them entirely and instead apologized for the nuisance you caused her. And in all honesty, you weren’t quite sure if you could handle trying to break down and reimagine the events that occurred that night. It would be agonizing.

But it was a lot better than you thought it was going to be.

She left you after a while, having her own life to deal with and albeit, school. Today left a great opportunity for you to catch up on some studying for midterms, contemplating popping (a healthy intake of) Adderall but forcing yourself to focus by your own will. You got a lot finished, feeling refreshed and fully capable by 5PM.

Then you got antsy. For once, cheer wasn’t on the schedule and as much as you should rejoice in your occasional freedom, you feel the need to run. Drain the excess stress and energy you have by a quick pop-in at the gym.

Deciding for it, you jump out of bed and aggressively chuck on your sneakers—the same ones you wore last night. Hell, you didn’t even change from last night, wearing the same hoodie and shorts that you had worn to cheer yesterday. You were absolutely disgusting.

You leave everything but your keys, deciding you didn’t want any distractions or had a need to bring anything else because all you could think about was to runrunrun. You even run down the hallways, zipping down the stairs and bursting through the doors like some sort of madwoman. Stopping a few feet outside, it’s the first time you’ve really looked, nonetheless been, outside today. It surprises you more than anything that it’s raining of all things, droplets big and heavy and creating dark spots on your grey sweatshirt.

“Tough luck in sunny-ass California, eh?” you ask yourself. It wasn’t as rare of an occurrence in the northern half, but the irony of it all really put a damper on things. You abruptly realize that you stand in it for quite some time, letting the fat drops soak your shoulders and the humidity make your skin sticky.

From someone else’s view, this was probably some dramatic moment for the protagonist to break down crying and the love interest, in this case it was asshole-Jimin, would unexpectedly pop out of nowhere to dry their tears. But you weren’t crying and this wasn’t some poorly filmed soap opera. Jimin wouldn’t come begging for your forgiveness and you would just get wet from the rain out of spite, and maybe because you’re a little dumb.

Actually, you thought, this is a whole lot worse.

Then, you’re fucking angry. Your feet move before you can properly deduct your best options, carrying you the total opposite way from the gym. You even go as far as to jog, rounding corners without slowing and completely leaving the campus, hoping you remembered the directions right.

To hell with what Jimin thinks. If he’s too coward to face you, then you’ll do the damn thing yourself.

One, two, three houses down. You don’t even really know where you’re going, reversing a few steps and rerouting down different blocks and while getting completely drenched by the rain. Was it hailing now? Not possible.

You’re honestly about to give up before you see that goddamned mint-colored head poking out from a porch, a small dot of orange extending from his lips and you have the urge to rip the cig from his mouth and chuck it. So when you get close enough, you do.

“What the hell?” but he only eyes you with indifference. He kinda reminds you of a cat.

“Is he home?” Yoongi nods, face only lifting in recognition once he makes contact with the cheer hoodie.

“Great,” you smile, shoving past him and through the open front door. You don’t know why the hell Yoongi is smoking outside in the first place, because the whole house reeks and is hazy beyond belief. But when your eyes land on him, you see clear as day.

Jimin has a cigarette of his own drooping from his lips, nearly spitting it out when he stumbles to stand straight in front of you.

“Y-Y/N, what’re you doing here? What the hell happened?”

You don’t understand the entirety of his second question until you hear the tiniest of droplets on his hardwood floors, quickly examining the damage in which how wet you were, then totally disregarding it altogether. You probably looked feral with second day clothes, puffy red eyes and a tangled mop in exchange of hair, but at this point, you didn’t give two damns.

“Give me time? ‘Give me time’? What kind of pathetic excuse is that? How completely dense do you have to be to not even have the strength to tell me the truth? You win, Jimin, I’m not your type nor am I as hot and ready as Jennie, okay? If I’m too much of this preppy bitch you constantly view in your eyes, then leave me the fuck alone! Continue to dangle yourself in front of every girl’s hungry face, for all I care. Just don’t act like you care when you lack any human emotion thereof and don’t,” you snap your arm away when he reaches for it, “include me in this little circus act of yours anymore.”

You come up for air, running your hands through your soaked locks and laughing like some sort of psycho. For the first time today, the weight that lingered on your chest is lifted. This was, like, some enlightenment type shit.

Jimin looks like he’s on the verge of crying or slapping you across the face, if the two could relate somehow. He knew this would happen sooner or later, drowning himself in packs of Marlboro’s to ease the guilt from his mind. Even worse, seeing you in person and seeing you so filled with hatred was making him fall even more in love with you, if it was possible. His thoughts were facetious, wanting nothing more than to engulf you in his arms and keep you here, with him. It was a little late for that.

You pipe up again only to die down, eyebrows knit together in concentration of what your next move was. Instead, you let your true emotions show in hopes that it kills him. You let your tears fall for the first time that day, lips pressed hard into a line and sighing so slow that your breath shakes. Seeing you like this made Jimin’s stomach plummet.

“You’re not my type either,” you whisper, expecting some sort of response or outburst or at least a fucking attempt of an explanation from him. But you don’t wait forever and you show yourself out the door.

You were pretty good at this whole ignoring game, he had to admit. Only after a certain amount of phone calls, voicemails, and texts (12, 3, and 8, by the way) did you finally go through with blocking his number entirely. You would sit on the exact opposite side of the lecture hall, surrounding yourself with occupied seats so he couldn’t just sit next to you, and practically dodging bodies to leave before he could catch up. He stopped trying that approach when he made accidental eye contact with you during class, eyes filled to the brim in pain and regret and longing to turn back the clock so you wouldn’t have to suffer because of him, it made him sick.

Jimin starts his walk home, had finished utilizing one of the lounges to study for a few hours. Like always, he beelines around the stadium to get to one of the main streets, passing by different athletic groups on the track.

He even sees you on the turf, practicing tumbling passes with the rest of the team, smile plastered on your face when your one friend… Kook, talks to you on the sideline. His heart wrenches, haven’t seen that smile in days. Trying his luck, he jumps over the dividing gate and walks down the track to your area.

You see him eventually, mumbling curses and cowering behind Jungkook even though he can’t completely hide you.

“What the—what’s wrong?”

“It’s him. I don’t want to talk to him,” you whimper, hating confrontation and hating lies even more so. Jungkook grips your shoulders, giving them a squeeze and showing an easing smile.

“I’ll take care of it. Go get some water from your bag,” he assures. You feel like crying for the rare occasion that your teammate, as stubborn as he was, would stick up for you in a time of need, nodding obediently and scurrying off to find your duffel.

Jungkook turns, his best look of intimidation etched onto his toned features and crossing his muscular arms for effect as Jimin walks up.

“I really need to talk to her. I’m not trying to hurt her, just want to clear up some things,” is all Jimin says, overlooking his opponents battle stance.

“We’re in the middle of practice right now. Cheer squad members only. Get lost,” Jungkook growls. Jimin rolls his eyes, ignoring Jungkook’s warning and trying to maneuver around him, instead being met with his beefy shoulder and a final glare of warning, “I said, get lost.”

Without thinking, Jimin rolls up his sleeves, tongue-in-cheek, ready to force his way through and teach this kid to live up to his word. But your eyes meet Jimin’s, worry for your friend apparent and willing an awkward encounter if it means it’ll protect Jungkook. Jimin sighs, backing down immediately and nodding.

“Please, just tell her to give me a call, at least. Sorry for interrupting.”

Jungkook can’t help but feel a twinge of sympathy, waiting until Jimin starts heading back until he calls out, “I will,” and giving him a hard but assertive smile. Jimin wouldn’t be trying so hard to reach out to you unless he really had a reason to.

“What did he say? He looked like he was about to kick your ass,” you prod, searching your teammates for any hint of reaction. He simply shrugs.

“He just requested to talk to you. He wasn’t really being an ass or anything. Actually, just being a little desperate. Are you sure you don’t want to hear what he has to say?” Jungkook asks. He was all for protecting you and valuing your wants more than anything, but he knows from personal experience that guys never try that hard unless they really have the hots for someone.

You worry your bottom lip with your teeth. Deep down, you really wanted to hear him out, hope it was all just a poorly-timed misunderstanding and have him tell you that you were what he really wanted. But then you remembered how unsurprised Yoongi was when he took yet another girl home, and how Jimin flat-out ignored you for days, and that god-awful Jennie that was literal walking evidence of your worst concern.

“No, I don’t want to hear anything he has to say,” you conclude.

Over the weekend, Jimin finds himself stuck in the dance studio for hours, working out all the stress he’s accumulated over this whole thing. He doesn’t even know if he’ll get over it as long as he stays here, contemplating dropping school altogether and going back home to Korea. He shoos away the thought as quickly as it comes, he was just being dramatic.

His muscles heave with every move, exhausted and overworked, yet he perseveres. His limbs beg him to stop, but he pushes himself even harder. Dripping sweat, his toe catches on his other foot and stumbles, floor coming so fast that only his elbows are able to catch the fall in time. The impact shakes his bones and makes him cry out in frustration, but he’s fine otherwise. Jimin rolls onto his back, a bubbling anger rising and tempting him to smash every mirror in this studio that reflects his pathetic self and his pathetic actions that haunt him like an ugly scar. Your face flashes in his mind, some odd sleepless-inducing mirage laughing at him.

He calms.

Flinging his bag over his shoulder, he practically forces himself to leave. More than anything, he needed to sleep and focus on finals that were this following week, not worry about some girl that didn’t even want to talk to him.

On his way, he sees Yoongi’s hair on the opposite side of the quad, coffee in hand and face contorted into a rare smile as he talks to some girl. Jimin, the cockblock that he was, changes his course in hopes of bribing his hyung to take him home.

Jimin didn’t have the sharpest of sight per se but he could pick your face from a crowd in seconds, that same face laughing and smiling at his roommate like you two were best friends now. Perhaps it’s the exhaustion or the utter shock, but he spins right back around and opts to walk home without another thought. 

When he gets home, he patiently waits for Yoongi, building a script in his head of the calm questions he’ll ask that will shed some light on what he could possibly be talking to you about. Yoongi was an attractive male himself, and surely wouldn’t give a shit about taking Jimin’s love interest for his own.

The door squeaks open after a short while, Yoongi muttering a short, “I’m home,” and treading to the kitchen. Jimin pops up from the couch and follows him, waiting for Yoongi to stick his head back out from the fridge.

“Shit, dude,” Yoongi jumps at Jimin’s sudden appearance, “prima ballerina is light on his toes.”

“What were you doing talking to Y/N,” Jimin asks without hesitation. Yoongi stares him down, amusement drawn on his face.

“What, are you stalking her now?”

Jimin’s eye twitches, “And are you suddenly interested in cheerleaders now, too? Just tell me what you guys were talking about!” It takes all of his patience to not unleash his pent-up anger on his hyung, knuckles turning white from squeezing his fists.

Yoongi leans against the counter, “Chill. I don’t like her. Accidentally bumped into her, quite literally, and got caught in a conversation.” Jimin internally chuckles, you were so goddamn clumsy.

“You should talk to her, no matter what,” he continues, “I think she’s really hurt right now but she’ll let you soon I bet.”

Jimin wondered if that was true.

Minthead’s words bounced around in your skull. They had been bouncing around throughout the week, even following up to your psych final. You took Friday’s final opening as there were too many students in the class for the professor to monitor and, honestly, it gave you more time to procrastinate on studying. Not that it mattered, you couldn’t focus anyway.

What you didn’t find surprising, no thanks to Lady Luck, was that Jimin picked the same day as you. He waved and smiled upon seeing your arrival, in which you rolled your eyes and sat near the back corner. Jimin, having enough of this game, collects his things and travels all the way across the lecture hall to plop down two seats away from you.

“Cheating, are we, Mister Park?” the professor eyes him with suspicion worn down with fatigue.

“N-No, sir.” Jimin clears his throat, whispering to you without his notice, “Look, we need to talk. I’m not letting you leave until you hear what I have to tell you.”

“Oh, so you’re blackmailing me now?” you spit.

“Don’t be stubborn. You don’t have to forgive me, you just need to hear my side of the story so we can both feel at ease,” he chooses his next words carefully, “although, I don’t want you to hate me, if I can help it.”

“No more talking, turn in your packet in the front when you’re done. You may leave when you’re finished,” the professor instructs, handing you both your finals.

You don’t look at Jimin for the remainder of the hour, focusing on the questions as hard as you can with a lingering indecisiveness nagging you in the back of your skull. How could you trust what Yoongi told you? What if Jimin was behind all of what he said in order for you to just be wrapped around his finger again? You were just starting to feel better, back to normal, even.

When you’re finished, you round up your stuff and submit your final. You don’t look where he’s sitting when you exit the hall, but you know he’s watching you leave. The doors shut quietly behind you and your brain fights to come to a decision.

“Forget it,” you mumble, feeling defeated and walking towards the quad.

It takes Jimin an extra 15 minutes to finish writing his answers, his mind whirring and cursing himself for taking so goddamn long, but how was he supposed to focus? Not when you completed it so early and probably left ahead of him. He all but jogs out, looking down each side of the hallway to look for you. He’s not surprised that you didn’t wait.

“Dammit!” he grunts, punching a decent-sized dent in the drywall. People around eye him, whispering words of concern and fear but he doesn’t care. Just paces outside as fast as he can to avoid familiar faces or staff.

“Jimin? Geez, dude, you look like a raging bull,” you call out to him, stepping away from a nearby bench and catching up to his angered frame.

“Y/N? I thought you left,” he exhales with relief, rubbing his bruising knuckles in his other hand, “Does this mean that you’ll talk to me?”

You shrug, eyes catching on his small injury, “I, uh, yeah. What happened? Are you okay?” You pull his hand towards you, brushing away debris from the wall and examining the damage, eyebrows knit in caring concern.

His heart races, how could you possibly touch him right now? How could you prioritize his wellbeing when he’s hurt you so badly? Pulling his arm away, he nods his head towards the bench you came from, “Wanna sit? I’ll make it quick, if I’m interrupting you.”

When you take a seat, several inches away from him for safe measure, you finally get a good look at Jimin for the first time in days. His hair stuck up in every direction and looked slick from grease, his normally dewy complexion pale and dull, and even more, reeking of cigarette smoke. He looked like hell, and even though you shouldn’t, you feel victorious in some way.

“I’m just going to cut to the chase,” he starts, “I get bored of girls really easily. I don’t like being obligated to a relationship because they’re totally bullshit most of the time. And I don’t have the patience for one single person.”

“Great, thanks, Jimin. I’m leaving now,” you say with a sarcastic laugh, starting to stand up until he grabs your wrist.

“But there’s something so different about you. I can’t get you out of my head. You’re pretty, fuck, you’re gorgeous. More than that, you’re strong and smart and not afraid to raise your voice and you’re not this overly-optimistic person but everything you touch is just suddenly so much better and I truly felt like you were doing that to me. You were making me better and pushing me to do what I love and all the more I fell in love with you along the way, but I was scared.” His leg shakes more and more as he continues and you can’t help but stare at his nervous antic.

“I tried so many times to forget you, to convince myself that this was just some,” he whirls his hands in the air, “phase, or something. But it just felt so wrong and I regret ever trying to attempt to do so. But I want to change, I want to love you and I want you to forgive me.”

“That’s a lot to ask for, Jimin. It’s a little too late for that,” you say, voice wavering. You wish you could punch yourself for being so weak in front of him. Or, even better, you could punch him.

“Too late? It’s not too late, baby. Let me show you how good I can be for you. You’re talking about the party, right? And the girl? That was nothing.”

You wince at his nonchalance, “Perhaps it’s nothing to you, Jimin, but the last thing I was expecting was for you to run off and fuck some sorority girl when you were so confused about me. That’s not how this works.”

He looks appalled, “What? You think I fucked someone?”

“I know you did. Some girl stumbling down the same time you did said so when she was talking to the rest of her Jimin fanclub,” you spit. This is where the real test came in.

“I didn’t—no. I didn’t screw anyone that night, oh my god. That’s why you’re so mad at me,” he ruffles his hair, completely dumbfounded, “Okay. I’m going to tell you the truth. I was with that girl, and I was intending to…” Your heart wrenches.

“But I didn’t! We made out a little but it was so wrong so I left before anything real happened and it was really my ah-ha moment that I wouldn’t ever be happy unless it was with you, Y/N. I mean it.”

“How do I know to take your word over hers? If I were to forgive you, how do I know that you won’t do anything stupid again?”

“Unfortunately, you don’t know. I wish I could provide evidence somehow, anything that would ease your mind. All I can ask for is just one more chance and promise you that it’s all I’ll ever need. Take all the time you need to be comfortable with me again, break my heart, literally give me a stick-and-poke of your own name, I don’t care.”

You laugh a little at his exclamation, the air lightening up enough for Jimin to grab your hand with courage. Squeezing a little, you look at him sternly before wriggling your hand out of his grasp.

“I don’t want to get hurt again. I don’t give anyone second chances. It just makes what they did to me okay, and it’s not okay even if you didn’t go all the way. You still hurt me, Jimin.”

His face droops with melancholy, “It’s not okay, it’s not okay at all. But—Y/N. Please. Just make one exception…”

“I—” your eyes well with tears, again, “I don’t know Jimin. I want to but I’m just not sure.” Your flight responses kick in and you hop off the bench.

“I have to go. I have to get to practice and there’s a performance at halftime tomorrow and I just don’t have time for… this.”

“I’m sorry, I promise I won’t bug you anymore but please just think about it. About me.”

You nod and smile feebly, forcing your body away from him as fast as you could without sprinting. You didn’t even have practice for another hour and you’re sure Jimin knew that, but it would only be moments before you dove into his chest and thanked him for coming back, and you didn’t want to be so weak.

Assuring yourself that you’re just overwhelmed and possibly overthinking, you opt to head to the gym, despite being an hour early.  

Suzy somehow convinces you to sit out for the game until performance at halftime, not taking your arguments as valid and forcing you to sit under the cheer tent, arms crossed in bitterness. Here you were, now forced to think about all that’s happened while Jungkook bases Nani out of all girls. You didn’t have a problem with her, but Jungkook was your base goddammit.

“Jimin really likes you, and I can vouch for him that he didn’t do anything with Jennie that night. Unfortunately, because of you, he hasn’t been able to do anything. Never brings girls home anymore, hasn’t smoked until just recently. Even told me that he’s into dancing? ‘S weird,” Yoongi chuckled. You laugh with him, unaware that Yoongi has any expression aside from cynical indifference.

“Why are you telling me this?” As much as you appreciated his concern, why the hell did he care?

“Because all he fucking talks about is you. How pretty you are and how he was going to ask you out to a movie and how cute you eat your food? So gross, just give him a pair of used panties already,” he scrutinized.

“He can’t seem to get out of this rut, either. I’m guessing it’s because you’re pretty mad at him,” he admits after a while.

The words play in your head like a broken record, eventually giving you a gnarly headache. You were sure he was telling the truth; intentionally scheming with Yoongi to not tell Jimin of your meeting, hoping both of their stories aligned completely parallel. Jimin even told you things he didn’t need to, things Yoongi left out.

So why were you hesitating?

“Y/N! Time to shine, lazyass. Start stretching,” Jungkook yells, shaking you out of your thoughts. You do as you’re told, stretching briefly while the clock gets closer and closer to halftime. It sounds with a loud, obnoxious tone, and you run out with the rest of the team and the marching band when the football players clear the field.

The rest passes as it always does, your mind fogging out the routine having done it so many times. Suzy calls, Jungkook throws, the band plays alongside and you subconsciously follow along to the counts playing in your head.

Then, the crowd just stops cheering. You all continue, trained to push through no matter the distraction until a horrendous screech fills the stadium, the scoreboard glitching until it switches input to a live broadcast.

Losing your balance and doing the absolute opposite of what flyers should do, you crumple and reach forward to break your fall. You don’t know how, but Jungkook shoves your feet back just in time to bear-hug your waist, preventing an ugly face-plant with the ground.

“Thanks,” you heave, “What the hell is going on?”

“Probably some frat idiot prank, do you think we should just get off the field?”

“Shut it, look,” Suzy interrupts.

“Uhh, I don’t know if this is working,” a voice booms through the stadium, video focusing on some guy in a hoodie as people in the distance struggle to keep people, presumably staff, into the announcing room.

“Oh my fucking god, that’s Jimin,” you whisper, catching Jungkook’s wheeze of surprise with a mutual look of chaos.

“I don’t know how long I’ll have before I gotta skedaddle but here I go: Y/N, the one on the cheer squad preferably, I have severely fucked up. I underestimated you but you were never wrong about me because I am a total asswipe. But I want to prove that you’ve changed me and I want to be your boyfriend and always take half of your portions of food and criticize the American government,” someone yells fuck the government! in the distance to this, “and dance for you and hell, baby, I’ll dance for you and—oh shit.”

There’s a ripple of giggles and whoops throughout the crowd as Jimin darts past someone that attempts to contain him, briefly showing an exasperated face before they switch the scoreboard back to its numbery self.

“I don’t ever think I’d see the day Park Jimin would ever confess his feelings… to a cheerleader… at a televised game,” Suzy speaks between cackling. This would have been mortifying if it weren’t so utterly amusing; your cheeks straining from how hard you’re smiling. Jimin was an exceptional son-of-a-bitch, but there wasn’t really much wrong with letting your naivete get the best of you. If you gave up on every person that caused you trouble, how would you ever know what unconditional love feels like? Because you were pretty damn sure this was it and you didn’t want to give it up.

You love Jimin.

“Oh, here he comes,” Jungkook informs. You both watch as Jimin sprints onto the field, scouting for your eyes among everyone else’s and screeching to a halt in front of you with a shit-eating grin.

“Okay, what’s your answer? Because honestly, we’re not each other’s type at all appearance-wise but I can’t imagine being with anyone else at this dreaded school and if I get suspended without getting something out of this then—”

“Oh my god, Jimin, just shut the hell up, okay? You win,” you roll your eyes and wipe that stupid smile off with a caress to his sweaty face and a planted kiss on his lips. Jimin’s insides explode, either from the kiss or the incredible 4k he just sprinted but nonetheless he’s so fucking in love.

He lifts you off your feet, hugging the remainder of air out of your body and making you squeal.

“I love you, I love you, and I’m so sorry,” he repeats like a mantra, those beloved puppy dog eyes brimming with flickering adoration and regret and relief all at once.

“I—I forgive you. Really, I do. I love you, even if you make me want to shove a pom-pom down your throat,” you cry in happiness. He kisses you one more time, quick but piercing and so right.

The crowd cheers as they watch the display, and oh bologna when you signed up to be a cheerleader you didn’t think you’d catch this much attention, and even more so when Yoongi suddenly runs over with a wireless mic in hand.

“Before we get back to your soccer game, can you just clarify to the audience what you said to this little outburst right here?” He announces with deadpan enthusiasm. You knew that he secretly enjoyed this commotion, probably reveling in it like some odd middle-man that liked to watch his friend’s problems go up in flames.

You hesitantly take the mic, “Yeah, um, I said yes. I said yes and I might be making a mistake but yeah he’s taken, I’m sorry ladies.” What kind of crappily scripted teen movie was this?

You start to hand the mic back to Yoongs, but Jimin snags it and adds a quick, “Uhh last words: Fuck you Jennie, you lying bitch! ‘Kay, enjoy your game.” You choke at the exclamation.

“… Too soon?” You dramatically shrug and make a just a little sign with a pinched thumb and index.

“Jimin, how much did you have to drink to do all this?”

“A little shot for courage is nothing, babe. Oh—evening kind sirs!” Three older, and visibly agitated, teachers grab Jimin by the arm. “I’ll be back, hopefully, I’ll wait for you after the game!”

Waving him off, you return to the sideline before the pack of oblivious football players maul you. You watched his pink mop bob off into the distance, Yoongi soon accompanying him with the rest of his hooligans as they’re scrutinized by the teachers. Chuckling, you ponder how long a relationship you two could pull off, a small part of you hoping it’s deeper than calf love, and a larger bit knowing it is.

a/n: yay! you made it! if you liked it, feel free to let me know or ask any questions to the characters! xx, poppy

[insomnihan]

han’s Entire Thoughts and Feelings on Dreamcatcher’s “Deja Vu”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

MY TIME HAS COME 2.0!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! FULL INSOMNIA MODE DONT. LOOK. AT. ME.

there are no read mores here so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

ALRIGHT SO-

THE SONG OKAY LETS JUMP RIGHT INTO IT i wasnt expecting something lowkey sad BUT im not mad at it!!!!!!!!!! i had conflicting emotions when i desperately wanted to cry but also headbang?????? HOWEVER thanks to force and air the tears in my eyes were drying as i headbanged- LIKE this song really PUT ME THROUGH IT like that chorus didnt have tO DO ME LIKE THAT™!!!!!!!!!!!!! BUT THEN THE VERSES AND THE PRE-CHORUSES WERE SLOW (and the bridge but bridges be like that in nearly all songs) WHICH IM ACTUALLY REALLY INTO it was like being in a roller coaster with the verses being the slow hill and the chorus was the fall THAT PIANO GOES HARD...................... but like in a soft way????? DONT ASK ME WHAT IM SAYING IS IM A HOE™ FOR PIANO THOSE DRUMS DURING THE CHORUS STOP IT I CANNOT I FELT THEM VIBRATE THROUGH MY BONES

like i DEADASS have nothing to criticize or change about this song its PERFECTLY FINE AS IT IS (except for like more gahyeon and dami????? pls??????)

siyeon starting the song.......................... thank you.............. I STILL STAND BY SAYING I WOULD LISTEN TO HER VOICE FOR LITERALLY FOREVER HER VOICE DURING THE CHORUS QUEEN OF SINGING CHORUSES OH BUT THEN THAT HIGH NOTE ARE YOU KIDDING ME??????? SHE DIDNT HAVE TO KILL ME LIKE THIS BUT THANK YOU SO MUCH I- and now....... im in the deja vu P L E A S E

gaaaaaaaahhhyeeeeeooonnnn her voice is so pretty!!!!!!!!!!! BUT I WANT MORE!!!!!!!!!! HOWEVER youre the second one to sing with this beautiful gentleness of a part and to be honest this part paired with siyeon starting it really eases you into the song and its quite the blessing to hear thanks- and then yknow this part right after handong........................... Heaven™

SPEAKING OF HANDONG LISTEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THE AMOUNT OF LINES SHE HAS MAKES ME WANNA CRY OKAY THIS PART RIGHT HERE............................. PLS.............. (i think its just me but theres a smaller voice singing like right under her voice????) HER PRE-CHORUS PARTS ARE LITERALLY THE BEST PARTS IN THE WHOLE SONG TO LISTEN TO pls believe me when i say this its NOT bc shes my ultimate bias like i genuinely like her parts the most

sua pls i was already prepared for softer vocals and you really gave that to me and then this is absolute perfection they were beautiful and amazing OF COURSE got me feeling like i was floating on actually clouds god TAHNK YOU AND THEN YOU JUST HAD TO HIT ME WITH YOUR PART RIGHT HERE???? i understand its just the chorus but I Felt That™ okay!!!!!!

JIU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i stand by saying how your voice be powerful as hell still even during these lines VERY short but VERY effective and very good leading into the chorus i love- and then your bridge....................... B I C T H really put me in my feelings but i welcome it with EVERY FIBER OF MY BEING and with open arms.......................

YOOHYEON AKA THE OTHER QUEEN OF SINGING CHORUSES I MEAN..................................... I LITERALLY DUNNO WHAT TO SAY!!!!!!!!!!! LIKE THEIR BEAUTIFUL SOUNDING HER VOICE GOES WELL WITH THEM like i really like the parts she sings after siyeon like................. Y O O F if a feather became a voice-

i need more dami too..................... P L E A S E like obviously with their other songs i was expecting dami to be in the second verse and with a smooth rap section and the former was correct HOWEVER to my pleasant surprise SHE SANG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! her singing voice suited this SO MUCH and im actually glad there wasnt a rap part at all in this song especially that SECOND PART.................. Heaven™ 2x

my favorite lyrics (x): i know i said handongs were my favorite to listen to but i like these lines dont hurt me

난 이 숨결이 허락되는 날까지 As long as I can breathe 다신 너를 놓을 수 없어 I can’t let go of you again 우린 모든 순간 함께 할 테니 We’ll be together for every moment 내 곁에서 beside me

THE DANCE OKAY IM GONNA DO SOMETHING DIFFERENT ill be referring to THIS PERFORMANCE can we pls talk about how loud the fanchant is im crying and really take it in and all of their talented glory ANYWAY OF COURSE the choreography F UKCING SLAPS just so many different position changes and just alwaYS SO IN SYNC WITH EACH OTHER ITS INSANE ill just list them briefly and keep the points short this is long enough:

THE BEGINNING AND THE END BEING THE SAME...................... CERTAINLY DEJA VU-

SIYEONS TUTTING THING THANKS

handongs majestic spin

this and this with how the formation changes and how their arms swing AND the kick

ALSO in those parts in the last bullet i dunno why but i like that move jiu does when she sings IT HITS

i recall sua spoiling literally the first move of the chorus dance in that vlive THE CHORUS DANCE ALL THOSE FORMATION CHANGES LITERALLY MESS ME UP and THIS most important move in the entire choreography and they line up and its SO COOL to look at

when they lie on each other doing yoohyeons lines

handongs part again when theyre in the line and how satisfying it is to watch

THE ENTIRE BRIDGE

LITERALLY THE ENTIRE DANCE FROM START TO FINISH

QUEENS OF STABILITY

sidenote: can we talk about how handong and dami?????? literally spin during their parts????? and they sounded super clear??????

THE VISUALS SO.......................... if you had asked me two days ago (maybe a little bit of yesterday) about how i felt about this video.................. i wouldve mentioned some unpopular opinions regarding the videos look............ i mentioned to gwen @loonapunk that i wasnt TOO into it............ BUT- after finally sitting down to do this long ass post i dont hate it!!!!!!!!!!!! i think bc i have to remind myself that this song (album???? well song-) is for that kings raid game and all the visuals AND story are based off that????? i dunno BUT WHAT I DO KNOW IS I LIKE TO WATCH IT

IM TOO BIG STUPID™ TO COMPREHEND THIS STORYLINE AND COME UP WITH MY OWN THEORIES EVEN NOW AND I WOULD L O V E TO EXPLAIN IT TO YOU BUT THIS IS LONG ENOUGH AS IT IS SO ILL REDIRECT YOU TO THEORY POSTS (TWO (2) FROM MY GALAXY BRAIN MOOTS) THAT I LIKED:

@highsomnia NITAS POST WHICH I PERSONALLY FOUND ENJOYABLE TO READ SO IF YOU COULD READ THIS YOU SHOULD ALSO READ THAT

@in-somnias ELENAS POST WHICH WAS ALSO AN INTERESTING READ RIGHT HERE

AND THEN THIS ONE THAT WAS ORIGINALLY FROM TWITTER i dont follow her so im not gonna @

AIIGHT IMMA GO CRAZY WITH THESE SHOTS (with only small one/two sentence captions this is LONG ENOUGH):

BICTH I SAW THIS AND KNEW I WAS GONNA GET GOT™ like its just super duper INCREDIBLY PRETTY TO LOOK AT

THIS WILL BE FOREVER ICONIC™ DONT ARGUE WITH ME

this is what the calm before the storm looks like

went back to the mv film making video and turns out they got slippers on under that table love that for them

how in the hell am i supposed to interpret this exchange

okay longer section i think im supposed to interpret this more as a sister bond than a romantic one?????? i remember being taken aback and believed this to be something gay BUT 99.9% OF INSOMNIAS say its gay subtext so ill just put it like that i dunno but like i just wanna say they have beautiful smiles and im love them!!!

a youtuber reacting to this mv saying it just looks like theyre shading each other.................... anyway-

i CANNOT i repeat I CANNOT EXPRESS TO YOU how Shook™ i was when i saw this for the first time i basically jumped out of my chair i couldnt i-

this mv really led me to believe jiu was the evil one.............................

POETIC. CINEMA.

THE WOMAN. THE MYTH. THE LEGEND. THE FIREBENDER. THE WOLF. LEE SIYEON. pls light me up

Symbolism™................ SYMBOLISM I CANNOT COMPREHEND GO TO THE THEORIES

MORE SYMBOLISM GO TO THE THEORIES

T H E M

NOT ONLY IS THIS VIDEO SUPER AESTHETIC™ BUT THE SEVEN (7) MOST BEAUTIFUL WOMEN IN THE WORLD BLESSING US ONCE AGAIN WITH THEIR PRESENCE AND ALLOWED THEIR ROYALTY VIBES SHOOT INTO THE MESOSPHERE INTO REAL LIFE KILLING ALL OF US

THE DANCING SCENES WITH THE TEASER OUTFITS...................................... AT EASE.....................

LITERALLY NO COMPLAINTS MOVING ON:

JIU

L I S T E N KIM MINJI YOURE A FULL PRINCESS this pink fluffy dress with the flower crown in this picture............................ i may have cried- like a lot of people were trying this look to persephone and im HERE for that concept for her and like the white outfit AND black outfit is probably super symbolic again im too Big Stupid™ anyway when i saw that black outfit in the teaser........................... i was attacked jiu with a sword is just EVERYTHING i wanted and more

SUA

LITERALLY I CANNOT- her hair being wavy looks SO GOOD on her THIS BLACK DRESS WITH THE FLOWERS she is always a Serve™ WE KNOW THAT but her visuals just HIT DIFFERENT this time lighter colored hair really suits her and then of course she looks FAN-FREAKING-TASTIC in the dance scenes in the white and the black that low pony tail pls

SIYEON

purple on this woman just shoulders and collarbones out being Beautiful™ ALL THE WHILE staying ON BRAND with herself and was wearing pants good for her G O D i just love the way her hair looks in the white and gold outfits like it just LOOKS PRETTY to me i dunno how to describe it also her with a pony tail WHAT ARE YOU SO PRETTY FOR-

HANDONG

i just................... want closer shots of this.................. CLOSER SHOTS IN GENERAL OF HER ACTUALLY like LOOK HOW BEAUTIFUL™ SHE LOOKS HERE I WANNA SEE MORE OF IT??????? PLS??????? nothing gets me weaker than her hair being styled exactly like in the picture i just love that her royalty and regal vibes and looks were FINALLY realized and WAS BROUGHT TO THE FOREFRONT

YOOHYEON

THIS MV MUST CONVINCE ME SHE IS EVIL BY SHOWING HER FOREHEAD first of all the first outfit turning her into an Actual Entire Princess™/Queen™ that red one i dont really understand SHE MAKES IT WORK THO THEN THAT BLACK OUTFIT LISTEN yo it was like getting hit by a whole truck full speed i wasnt ready and i just wanna admire that yoohyeon and gray colored hair is an actual match made in heaven i just have to say-

DAMI

i love this suit and the patten on it so much this outfits color (what is that teal????) and her hair color is such a GOOD PAIRING and on her SHE JUST KILLED ME WITH HER SOLO SCENES i wish i had more to say about her and her outfits but what else can i say other than that she is INSANELY ATTRACTIVE AND I WANT HER TO STEP ON ME???????

GAHYEON

she really broke my neck when i saw her the first time LIKE DEADASS LOOK AT THIS PICTURE i had fallen for her and i cannot get up when i saw this outfit in the other shots like the black top and the see through sleeves but her skirt is like different colors she really Served™ in this outfit bangs usually look cute but in her solo parts she was coming for my heart like miss lee gahyeon pls-

BONUS TIME: B-SIDE TRACKS (just short thoughts and point out specific parts i liked lmao)

Intro:

their intros always slap are you kidding me-

The curse of the Spider

i wasnt ready for this bop to slap me in the face on my spotify that chorus didnt have to do that to me THAT GUITAR DIDNT HAVE TO DO THAT TO ME i love the way dami and handong sound in this song i mean wrow-

favorite lyrics (x):

소름이 끼칠 만큼 It’s chilling 도망치고 싶어질 it makes me want to run away 그런 두려움일 테니 such is this fear

Silent Night

B I H C T i knew when i heard this in the highlight it was going to be my favorite one IT REALLY WOKE SOMETHING IN ME these lyrics i cant- gahyeon and handong hurted me with their lower registers Y AL L YOU KNOW WHAT ELSE HURTED ME THAT D R O P DID

favorite lyrics (x):

겨눈 칼 끝은 a blade directed at someone 결국 돌아오게 돼 eventually returns 더 다가오지 마 don’t come closer

Polaris

this song is as if i was wrapped in the thickest blanket i got and im resting on the softest bed in the world with a fireplace going nearby and i could finally rest peacefully bc the lord knows i need it- i really cried a little bit listening to this pls leave me be i legit cant pick a specific member i liked the most for this song i just love it and everything it got

favorite lyrics (x):

그게 너라서 행복해 I’m happy that it’s you 그 많은 인연 속에 Among those numerous connections 수많은 사람 중에 Among those numerous people

LIKE im so completely satisfied with every song on this album and im completely in love with it!!!!!!!!!! the only ‘issue’ i really had was with the mv visually but as you read i warmed up to it lmao LIKE IM JUST SO PROUD OF THESE WOMEN AND HOW TALENTED AND HARDWORKING THEY ARE like i have to say the japanese release?????? and this????? being so close to each other????? you telling me they learned TWO (2) different choreographies one after the other???? i absolutely love this album and i desperately desperately DESPERATELY want so much more success for them bc ITS WHAT THEY DESERVE!!!!!!!!!!!!! this is supposed to be just about the overall mv and deja vu but i might as well just type what i feel lmao

IN CONCLUSION: MY INSOMNIA ASS IS BOTH ALIVE AND DEAD BUT MOSTLY ALIVE I LOVE THIS IM STREAMING

i have to bring this back its relevant again:

[blue-honeycomb]

Escape Artist: Chapter 1 [Aizawa x Reader]

Decided to play around with this for a bit before going back to my other stuff.

Masterlist

Prologue | Part 1

---

The Escape Artist stared at the television screen with incomprehension, blinking once, twice, until a small hand smacked her dead center in the face. The force was enough to shake her from her thoughts and she cast a sidewards glare at the little brat sitting casually beside her.

Big, off-white eyes stared unflinchingly into her own, equally white, featureless face twisting into some form of expression that was lost on her. Luckily, the little hellion's hair was prone to flashing colors with their emotions, so she at least has some idea as to what they wanted. Even if that idea was vague at best.

"How was I supposed to know there was a whole pack of heros right there?" She huffed, casting her eyes back to the news special broadcasting her latest anti-kidnapping kidnapping with concerningly clear footage. Like, crystal clear HD, not some fuzzy security camera but media quality definition; the kind that got you recognized.

On the screen was a video of her popping into existence in a police station not even 3 yards from where a group of heros and police officers were finishing up an interview, setting the child she'd brought in a chair as he chewed on the mochi she'd thought to bring with her for just such a purpose. As though in slow motion, she could see her screen self whip around and suddenly freeze, staring directly at the heros, and consequencely the cameras, before disappearing once more. Honestly, it was pretty comical, and apparently, a good portion of the in studio reporters seemed to think so too.

"That," She pointed at the screen for emphasis while leveling the yellow flashing, blank-faced little shit a glare. "Was not intentional, no matter what you little misfits seem to think." From the shadow of the color flashing cretin popped another one, this one gray haired and black eyed, grinning widely at her with his wickedly sharp teeth.

"Don't make up shit just cuz you can't understand me. Don't think I'm not on to you, shark boy." Not that any of her brats ever listened to a thing she said anyway. The only one who ever seemed to try was Spitter, but that was because the boy couldn't say no to anyone ever, so it was never satisfying. Hard to feel victorious about getting your way when it took years of abuse to make the person (a little fucking boy) willing to heel on command. Thinking about how'd she'd found the little guy made her stomach turn.

Moving on before she breaks something.

Shark brat said something about hero costumes to Whiteout Brat and a lot of gesturing took place, as well as a good bit of yelling. Thankfully they lived far enough underground to avoid being hear by any passerbys. Escape Artist turned away while they were distracted and let them entertain themselves while she thought about what she'd just seen.

It was the first time the public had seen conclusive evidence of her existence outside of a few shitty grocery store video feeds, and the entirety of Japan seemed to be eating it up. Words like vigilante and uncatchable were being tossed around, as well as theories about teleportation quirks and being a greiving mother seeking vengeance. All these things would have made her snort in amusement had it been even a few months ago. But now? Now she couldn't afford to get caught or have a hoard of glory-hounds on her trail. Too many mouths to feed, for one, and secondly, too many little bodies following her when she wasn't looking. Anything could happen with the added variable of nosy superpower enhanced dogooders.

The problem with working with homeless, traumatized children is that after you've taken care of them for a while they come to expect you to actually take care of them. As in, not just feeding them occasionally and giving them a place to crash, but actually filling that parent shaped whole in their lives and taking over all the responsibilities that comes with it. Like protection, love and trust. And time. Especially time. So much more than she has to spare.

So they've taken to following her when she's not watching closely enough, and that terrifies her because she can give them love and trust in abundance, but protection is something she just can't provide. She simply isn't strong enough to take them with her everywhere she goes, let alone into a situation that may one day be her last.

Speaking of situations.

It was time to go out and get more food. While nothing went bad in her inventory, thank God, it never actually stayed full with how many mouths needed feeding everyday. Shark boy alone could put away half his body weight in a single sitting if given the chance, and even that's got nothing on Bull or Hot Shot. Honestly, and though Escape Artist would never say it aloud, Bull's vigorous appetite may have been the reason she was abandoned in the first place. She just had to eat so much to function that even with the triweekly raids Escape Artist could barely keep up with the ever growing demand.

And then there's Hot Shot. Nicely put, he was a rather enthusiastic young boy in possession of a very destructive, fuel-exhaustive quirk neither she nor he had any idea how to train. It wasn't until he'd joined her merry little band that she'd learned the location of every clothing store in the city. Every single one of them.

Her life sometimes, she swears.

There was a shattering sound in the designated kitchen area, followed by a high pitched screech that fell somewhere between a frog croak and a chirp. Not even a second later the sound of footsteps darting through the tunnels at frankly ridiculous speeds creeked overhead, followed closely by the wall rattling thud of Bull chasing right after.

Escape Artist sighed, running a hand through her hair and pulling slightly. Beside her, Shark boy leapt to his feet in a dead run to go watch the drama unfold with unholy glee, Whiteout following at a slightly more moderate pace. Not even 8 in the morning and already the chaos had begun.

Her head thud quietly against the back of the couch. "I don't get paid enough for this shit."

---

Escape Artist was more than a bit concerned by what had happened on her way back home, but she supposed it could have been worse. For one thing, she wasn't dead, and for another, neither was the man she'd smacked headfirst into (or more accurately, he'd smacked face first into her). Unfortunately for the man though, the impact had left him notably unconscious and maybe a little bruised around the nose and forehead. In short, she done fucked up and this time it didn't involve another mouth to feed… she hoped. She didn't know if she had the patience needed to take care of a full grown man on top of the 8 kids at home and the 2 feral cretins that visited occasionally.

It'd been a simple case of bad luck all around, honestly. She'd just finished robbing the local Walmart (yes, it still exists and she still doesn't know how to feel about that months on) and was coming out of ID when she's suddenly been thrown to the ground by a speeding black mass all but flying through the darkened alley. Her first thought upon getting over her shock was to thank whatever was watching over her that night it wasn't a car. Her second was to fret over whoever she'd just gotten killed.

Luckily, it hadn't been a car and the stranger had survived the encounter. So, all was good in her books, besides the obvious part where the guy was laying unconscious in an alley and sporting an obvious hero getup in the shadier part of this district. If that wasn't asking for a knife in the back than she didn't know what was.

So now here she was, sitting across from the unmoving lump of man, chin in hand and elbows firmly planted on her thighs. She'd covered him up with a blanket from her inventory some time ago to keep him at least somewhat warm as the night gradually grew colder around them. She didn't think she'd manage to get the thing back before the guy was up and trying to kick her ass, but Hot Shot needed to learn to control his flames anyway and maybe going coverless for a while was just the motivation he needed to do so. She pointedly didn't think about the extra comforters she'd grabbed because she knew the first wouldn't last three nights in the little shit's care.

She blinked slowly, eyes roaming over what little bit of the man she could make out from under the blanket. Long, dark hair curling over the blanket and his heavily stubbled face (she'd picked the wild mass up off the filthy ground because ew), long lashes and a narrow, masculine face. He was attractive for sure, though the dark lines around his eyes, nose and forehead made him seem almost sickly pale in the unflattering street light. What she noticed most though was the peeks of sleek, firm muscle that the fluffy covers, ridiculously huge scarf and baggy clothing couldn't hide.

She was a woman with damn human needs. It'd been at least 3 years since she's gotten any and she was long overdue. She felt strongly that she should be able to appreciate this man's undeniable beauty so long as she kept her hands to herself and didn't do anything creepy like take pictures or some shit. She blatantly ignored the little voice whispering about how equally creepy it was to watch someone sleep without their consent.

It was also creepy how the observe function of her quirk let her learn a few tidbits about the man without any conscious effort, but for the most part she ignored the notifications hovering around the man all together. It wasn't like she'd ever meet the guy again after this, unless he was trying to arrest her of course. Either way, she doubted learning this guy's name or whatever was really worth invading his privacy anymore than her mere existence did. She'd like to think she has some standards.

In her uncharacteristic moment of distraction she failed to notice the subtle shift of the man's head before he went eeriely still. It wasn't until she was shifting to get more comfortable and noticed that a section of his hair was misplaced that she realized her mistake.

It happened too fast for her to properly react. With a quiet that belied the strength behind the attack, the man launched himself into her personal space and had her wrapped head to toe in the weird scarf he had with him. On instinct she tried to open her ID, but with a cold chill of realization discovered she couldn't get it to activate. In fact, her whole world seemed to suddenly swirl on its axis and for the first time since she'd come to this place her mind blanked with true, mortal terror.

His eyes glowed deep, sinister red against the shadows spread over his handsome face, dark hair whipping above his head like a dark, inhuman halo. Those muscles she'd been admiring just moments ago were suddenly the weapons of intimidation they were meant to be, something that made her heart race and quake with fear.

And her body. Maybe even worse than the sudden influx of terror was the sudden aknowledgement of her body's long forgotten functions. Where once she was satisfied she was now hollow, the movement of long unused organs felt like insects crawling though her body, scratching and nipping as they went.

Suddenly, the world was not just a thing that could be walked away from with a single though and a armful of goods. For the first time since she'd opened her eyes in that alleyway nearly a year ago, it was just her, the world and all the dangers that came with it staring her down with burning red eyes.

For the first time since she received her quirk she was well and truly alive.

"Escape Artist, was it."

[dcarevu]

DCAU: Beware the Gray Ghost

“When crime haunts the night, a silent crusader carries the torch of justice. Those with evil hearts beware for out of the darkness comes the Gray Ghost!”

Batman meets his influence, while simultaneously, in a way, meeting himself from another universe. How is this possible? Find out next time, same bat-time, same bat-channel! Well, okay, maybe not, you could just scroll down… So was this episode a tired, old has-been or a star worth remembering?

Episode: 18 Robin: No Writer(s): Garin Wolf (Teleplay), Tom Ruegger (Teleplay/Story), Dennis O’Flaherty (Story) Director: Boyd Kirkland Animator: Spectrum Airdate: November 4, 1992 Grade: A

Beware the Gray Ghost is a fantastic episode of Batman the Animated Series with something there to satisfy the older and newer fans, bridging the gap between them. And in fact, historically, it kinda did just that, bringing new respect to a certain actor who guest starred in this one! It is also an episode that I noticed has a very distinct feel to it, turning it into a tribute to not only the old Batman show from the 60’s, but also just old, Twilight Zone-esque noir crime shows in general. The music, the plot, some of the more subtle details, it’s all there. But instead of using these to craft some sort of parody or critique, it all ends up being a very respectful look at days past while undoubtedly still being Batman the Animated Series.

“The Graaaaaayyyyy Ghost!”

Spectrum animation is back with this one (which is odd, because apparently they shut down after bankrupting themselves with Heart of Ice… Anyone know how this all worked?), but in addition to that, my copy of Batman the Animated Series on Blu Ray just arrived! I couldn’t be happier that the first episode we watched on Blu Ray was a Spectrum episode. This created a very noticeable leap in animation quality. I’ll go more into detail at the end of this post also, giving my basic first impressions on how the Blu Ray release stacks up against the DVD one. But yeah, I’ll say it right now, it makes the show go from beautiful to breathtaking. Some of the color-usage in this episode is the best the show had done up to this point, and a variety of styles was used.

We have the scenes which are in exclusively black and white (displayed when we get a look at the original Grey Ghost tv show), we have the sepia-toned bits showing Bruce Wayne’s childhood, we have the bloody reds when explosions and fires happen (fire count!), and then we have the typical dark-deco look of the show. They all flow together seamlessly, and you can’t help but admire how realized this episode must have been before it was finished and then aired on TV. I cannot think of a single way I would improve the look of this one, aside from one or two funky-looking shots of Batman. 

One of the few funky shots of Batman...

...but they’re made up for by how awesome some of the other shots are.

The closest to a perfect episode (animation-wise) you’re gonna get. Period. Char (again, my watching-buddy, and DCAU-virgin) pointed out the animation for when Batman and Grey Ghost are hauling ass away from the exploding remote-controlled cars too. Very dynamic angles were used that only studios like Spectrum and TMS could have pulled off.

If Akom worked on this scene, it would have been such a disaster. Speaking of Akom, now I’m thinking of their version of an explosion/fire vs Spectrum’s. Just for funzies, let us compare shall we?

From The Cat and the Claw (Part 2).

These next few are from Beware the Gray Ghost.

The difference is quite clear. One makes you jump out of your seat in awe. The other makes you jump out of your seat because you’re about to upchuck your breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

When I mentioned earlier something about this episode never straying into parody-territory, well, it does not necessarily look back at the genre/Batman show and play it completely seriously either. They walked a thin line between both and decided to put Bruce Wayne into a setting that we can all relate to; sitting in front of the tv, watching your favorite show before bed.

The Gray Ghost in this story isn’t an old, retired superhero, or a superhero turned villain. He’s an actor, and one that played in a somewhat dated, silly “superhero” drama. This immediately adds a sense of seriousness and realness to it while also managing to not let the cornier aspects go. Both worlds exist in this episode. The whacky Gray Ghost show, and the noir, gothic world of Batman the Animated Series. They don’t necessarily have to merge in a typical way and clash tones, because they are able to reference and display the Gray Ghost show as fictional. The way it’s used makes it all relatable, and it gives us a look at what influenced the dark knight, along with a borderline-tragic story about the downsides of fame and being known for one thing and one thing only. Batman may seem super-powered to the many thugs that he battles in the alleyways, but he is a human just like you and I, one that did have a childhood at one point. Even if that childhood was tragically ended with a few bullets. Batman feeling the level of nostalgia that he feels in the episode is so god damn adorable, and it’s another moment, much like The Cat and the Claw, where we see him being Bruce Wayne, not Batman, but also somehow being himself. It's that middle ground between the brooding, shadowy figure and the rich, chillax playboy.

A smile we rarely get to see.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me!” Bruce acknowledges the cheesiness of the explosion causes.

While Batman is enjoying his childhood tv show, at one point almost seeming to forget why he’s watching it in the first place, we see Alfred subtly bringing that memory to life even more. Batman may no longer have a father, but Alfred is the closest thing he could ever hope for. TV superheroes clearly are not Alfred’s thing. He even mentions that fact when he says he prefers his fireplace to a black and white screen. But that’s not the point. The point is that Bruce is being transported back to feeling the warmth and protection of a father figure, while throwing out all of his worries for a bit and feeling a sense of thrill and enjoyment. Alfred seems to understand this. He knows Bruce more than anyone else could. Almost all of the flashbacks we see in this show are sad ones. And that gives the ones like this so much more power.

Alright, now, for those of you who don’t know (like all two of you), this episode has the very special guest star, Adam West. To me, this elevates the episode immensely, and strengthens the central themes and thesis tenfold. We go from a story about an actor being kind of a one-trick pony to the same story being told by someone who lived it. We go from a story where Batman gets to meet his idol to that same story featuring that very idol. And not just an idol to Batman, but an idol to many kids and adults who were around when Batman was still airing. Even those who went back and watched it later! Hell, when I was 5 or 6, I watched the shit out of Batman: The Movie, and I’m only 23. And y’know, we have things like Catman in The Fairly Oddparents, and the Fearless Ferret episode of Kim Possible. I’m not knocking on those, but damn, Adam West had to get tired of Batman goofs at some point. In fact, the team behind Batman the Animated Series was a little bit nervous that he wouldn’t wanna participate. But I’d be willing to bet that this episode made him feel good.

The Gray Ghost kinda reminds me of Arthur from The Tick. Great shot here, by the way.

The Gray Ghost is posed in the same way as Batman in the end credits. Such a cool detail that I actually missed my first time watching.

I love that despite wanting to stay far away from 60’s Batman vibes, the team wasn’t ready to dismiss it as bogus. And I get the sense that maybe Batman’s reverence in this episode is not only representative of all the Batman fans’, but also that of the crew behind Batman the Animated Series. They wanted Adam West to feel welcomed, and like the show wouldn’t exist without him (because it likely wouldn’t). So honestly, hats off to them. To further show a lack of satire, it wouldn’t surprise me if that is why Bruce Timm’s voice and image was used for the main villain.

Bruce Timm’s voice acting wasn’t the best, and I’d be willing to bet that he hated doing it, hahaha. Still a really fun nutjob of a character.

I’ll relate it to the episode of The Nostalgia Critic where he squares up against Mara Wilson. Mara Wilson, in real life, saw a Nostalgia Critic video about one of her films, and was kinda offended by it. But through a series of events, she and Doug Walker (the main creator and actor of NC) ended up cool, and he even put her in one of his videos! To make it even better, he actually had her play the antagonist, or probably more accurately, the protagonist. She basically ended up embarrassing and getting even with the Critic character in the episode. It’s still one of Doug’s favorite episodes to this day, and I have a feeling that he set the plot up like this to show her that he actually respects her quite a bit, and to soften the blow of the shit he’s thrown her way over the years. The team behind Batman the Animated Series may have done a similar thing in making Adam West’s character, along with Kevin’s Batman, defeat Bruce Timm’s character together, and if that’s the case, I love it. Not only does Adam West get the admiration of their version of Batman, but he also gets to help Bruce Timm’s character get his comeuppance. And then, of course, West’s character gets the attention he deserves at the end.

I know this is a video release, but it looks a lot like a thicker Blu Ray case. Kinda like, well, the Blu Ray release of Batman TAS!

Oh wow, never noticed this foreshadowing either. Matt Hagen will be a name that we’ll see pop up in a couple of episodes.

Garin Wolf, Tom Ruegger, and Dennis O’Flaherty obviously treaded carefully, but likely without even thinking about it. Because it is so genuine-seeming and charming. And honestly, thank you, Adam West, for being such a great sport throughout all the time you were alive. I wish there could have been another official DCAU tribute after his death, but this being the one thing we got should be more than great enough for any Batman or comic book fan out there.

This dude was pretty obviously voiced by Alfred’s voice actor. Times when having a voice with so much character takes me out of the show!

A look at some of the Gray Ghost episodes. I’d kill for a Gray Ghost animated series, following what we have shown here.

Wow, that Batmobile is awfully close to the ground.

Just a nice still. Boy does he ever look like a classic pulp costumed crimefighter. They nailed his design. 

A picture of Bruce Timm after he saw the finished product of I’ve Got Batman In My Basement.

Before I go, I’d like to, yes, mention the Blu Ray copy of the show I just received! So far, I’m mixed on it. While the visual and audio quality is mostly superior, there are a few moments of a shot being too bright or whatever. Also, I don’t know, I think that the dirtiness is part of what made the original show look so charming, and it was truly meant to be seen on the technology that was around at the time. Everything is so crisp now, and it just doesn’t look as old as it once did. On the other hand…they got rid of the spot above Batman’s lip during the theme song! Hot damn! That makes it about 10x easier to sleep at night… From what I understand, there are also some new special features and such that I can’t wait to view. All of the old ones are there too, which brings me to the pilot, The Dark Knight’s First Night. I was really, really, really hoping that they would bring in the original sound for it. On the volume 1 DVD, I was always kinda weirded out that it said the original music and sounds were lost. I mean, as far as the music goes…it’s just music from the 1989 Batman film, how hard can that be to get ahold of..? Hell, one of the versions on Youtube has the original music and sounds, so what gives? Could it be a copyright issue or something? I don’t know, but this same problem exists on the Blu Ray release too. Kind of a shame. Oh, but wait, as a plus, this complete series doesn’t just include every episode, but it also comes with Mask of the Phantasm and Subzero! I hate when complete series box sets don’t come with the movies that are just as much part of the series. This is an incredibly consistent problem across basically every tv show ever, and I get why it’s a thing, but it still annoys me. This problem doesn’t exist with Batman the Animated Series any longer. Well. Kinda. Mystery of the Batwoman is strangely…not included? I know that this one was technically released much later, and I also remember it sucking, but it’s still a part of the show! Why not include it? Personally, if I were in charge, I also would have thrown in Batman and Harley Quinn too, but believe me, I wasn’t banking on that one. I can forgive its absence. Overall, though, I’m super happy to own this, and even though I’ve seen all of Batman the Animated Series already, this gives me something new to enjoy with it. Also, even though it’s not a perfect release, I think I still consider it a step up over watching the show on DVD. At least, if we’re talking flat screen TVs (watching the entire show on VHS would be awesome, honestly). I give the Blu Ray release a B. Maybe a low A.

Char’s grade: A Fire count: 9

Next time: Prophecy of Doom Full episode list here!

[iheartgrayson]

back rubbing | grayson dolan

💘SMUT💘

*REQUESTED*

SUMMARY: GRAYSON OFFERS TO GIVE YOU A MESSAGE WITH HIS MASSIVE HANDS AND YOU CAN’T RESIST.

WC: 2.3K

- Smut request U and Grayson r dating and he gives u a massage with his nice strong arms and u get turned on-anonymus

You struggled to open the door to your house as you tried to support the big luggage on the other and a bag on your shoulder. Today was the day that you were returning from a business trip to Toronto and all you wanted was to relax and spent some time with your boyfriend Grayson.

You walked inside the house and threw your stuff on the sides as your eyes searched for him. You knew that he was home because his car was outside your parking lot. Since there was no sight of Grayson on the first floor he must be upstairs on your bedroom.

You took off your shoes and run upstairs and straight to your bedroom. The door was slightly opened, you heard noise but there was no light so you burst inside.

Grayson was on the bed, on top of the bed sheets and his phone on his hands while a video was playing. He looked up as soon as he heard you. His eyes lighten up and a wide smile spread across his lips. “Babe!” He exclaimed and got up from the bed and run to you and embraced in his big arms. “Oh, I missed you so much.”

“I missed too, Gray.” You said and hugged him back as tight as possible. You kissed his cheek and got apart to look at each other.

“Look at you, you got bigger.” He said with disbelief as you rolled your eyes.

“You’re kidding me right? It was only a week Grayson. Not a decade.” You walked to the back and threw yourself on top of it, landing with a loud bang. “So, what were you doing before I came?”

“I was watching videos of us. I missed you so much and that was the only thing I had.” he answered and you could see his cheeks turning red. Damn, he was so cute.

“Hey, it’s good. Actually it’s adorable. I love you so much, you goofy.” You said and grabbed his hands and threw him on the bed, next to you. Grayson turned on his side so he could look at you while you remain on your original position.

“So, how was your trip?”

“Tiring and exhausting. Especially the damn airplane. It was so full and there were some dushbags in front of me that though sleeping with the chair fallen back at me was smart. And don’t let me tell you about that lady that slept for four hours straight on my shoulder while there was a toddler hitting my chair from behind.” you said irritated while rubbing your eyes.

Grayson laughed at your response. “Seems like everything happened to you, baby.”

“Yeah, you can’t imagine. My back hurts like hell.” you groaned but an idea popped on your boyfriend’s little head.

“Do you want me to rub your back?” He questioned you as his eyes looked at your face and had a small smile.

You didn’t even thought about it. You took off your T-shirt and threw it on your feet, leaving you in your bra, while turning to lay on your stomach so Grayson could rub your back. You felt movement on the bed and waited for the action to happen. Two seconds later you felt a very cold liquid on your back making you hiss.

“What the fuck is this?” You asked Grayson.

“Oil, I heard that it is suitable for back rubbing. Now, you need to relax and let me do my job. Alright?” His voice was so soft that instantly you relaxed while nodding your head.

“Okay.”

As the cold oil run down your back you felt Grayson’s big hands on your back. They were warm in addition to the oil and that was amazing. He started working first at your shoulders were all the pain was.

At first he was slow but soon he started rubbing harder earning a loud moan from you. It was good.

“Yeah, like that babe.”

After keeping a satisfying amount of time there, his hands roamed further down while his fingers worked magic. It felt like you were getting a new whole brand body.

“How does it feel, sweetheart?” Grayson questioned you while he stole a glance at you before returning to his job.

You turned your face to the side to take a breath too. “Fucking amazing. Shit. It is sooo good Gray.”

Last it was your waist. As soon as his hands went there you felt a funny feeling going through your whole body. The way his giant hands worked there, so near your ass made you feel things.

You felt yourself start getting wet. It had been a whole week without Grayson and you sure as hell you missed him. You swallowed hardly and slowly you rose your body making Grayson confused.

“I am not finished. Why you got up?” He asked you with his eyebrows raised. You smirked at him.

“I just had a better idea to make me feel good.” You answered but the confused look he still supported on his face told you that he didn’t know what you were meaning.

You got up and sat on his legs since he was on top of bed, each one outside his own, and your hands wrapped around his neck. You looked deeply in his eyes and fall in love all over again. They were a shiny green color and they were full of love. That boy stole your heart and he owned every bit of it.

“I love you so much.” Your told him and leaned down, your lips crushing on his, and made out for a whole minute before you fall apart to take a breath.

“Yeah, I know.” He said and pecked your lips and he had a wide sheepish smile on his gorgeous face.

You pushed him back on the bed and your hands worked with the hem of his shirt and pulled it off him quickly. His hard chest making contact with my eyes and you felt your nipples getting hard at the sight of him. Grayson just looked at you, letting you do whatever you please with him just for this one time, and enjoyed the view.

“Damn, you are so beautiful. I missed you so much.” He bit his upper lips and his eyes explored your body as you got up and took off your leggings leaving you only on your bra and panties.

After a second you pulled them off too now leaving you completely naked in front of your boyfriend who was half naked. You saw as he gulped and a whimper came out of his mouth.

“Do you like the view?” You asked him with a smirk as you climbed back again on top of him. Your bare pussy now on top of his clothed rock hard dick.

Grayson didn’t need more than a second to get hard, just a single though could make his thick cock rise, and it was so fucking hot.

“I believe you can feel the answer.” He told you. His giant hands now slapped on your hips and moved you slightly on his cock. “Fuck, you make me so damn hard baby.”

“Oh, I know.” You decided to tease him a bit as you grabbed both of your boobs on your hands and played with your hard nipples. Your cold fingers made a shiver run down your spine, wishing it was Grayson’s hands instead. You moaned loudly and close your eyes in pleasure.

“Fuck.” He hissed and his hands moved fast your body and they landed on your boobs, slapping your hands away. They were naturally big and Grayson’s biggest weakness.

As he played with them, our hands fall on your side and then started rocking your hips on his cock. You always dry humped him but only for a teasing but right now you had something different in mind.

“Grayson?” You dragged his name as you opened your eyes and looked at his face.

“Mmm?” He hummed.

“Can I please, please myself on your life this?” You suddenly questioned him making him look at you in shock. He stood there frozen for a second before nodding his head fast.

“Yeah, fuck yes. That would be hot, just do it, come on.” He said and after leaving your boobs his hands grabbed your hips and tried to move them on top of him. You smiled at this and nodded your head.

You suited yourself on top of him and after feeling his dick on your wet heat, after leaving a loud moan, you started rocking your body back and forth. Back and forth.

Fuck! That is so fucking amazing. You thought to yourself as Grayson’s pants came in contact with your swollen clit making you feel truly fantastic.

“I was so right. It is fucking hot.” Grayson said more to himself than to you as hell watched every single movement you made on top of him and groaned couple times at the feeling. He was rocking hard and you could feel every bit of it.

Couple more trusts and you squirted. It was an ability you had discover two months ago with the beloved boy under you. You had made a big mess on top of him but Grayson couldn’t care at the moment. He was just so much turned on by the whole scene that he couldn’t bring his mind to care about anything than just to shove his dick inside you.

With a big breath you fall on your his chest, leaving small wet kisses on it. “Gray, it felt so damn good.” You moaned sending vibrations to his body which made Grayson moan too.

You moved down more until you reached his lower body. You looked up at his face and saw that he was looking down at you with a lustful look. You smirked and grabbed the hem of his pants along with his boxers and moved then down with a fast motion. His cock hit his lower stomach and you saw as precum licked out of it.

He exhaled one deep breath as his cock got freed and fall back on the bed on his back, his hands wide apart and chest raising fast. You grabbed his dick in your hands and guided him slowly in your mouth but Grayson’s hands grabbed your hair fast and pulled you away.

“I can’t take foreplay now. I just need to be buried inside you.” He explained and got up as well from the bed and took off his clothes. “On your hands and knees now.”

It was one of the very few times he was dominant and it got you excited. You did as you were told. You turned your head back to look at Gray and you found him looking at you admiring the view in front of him. “Fuck, baby. I can see that your little pussy is so fucking wet.”

“Only for you Gray.” you said and bent your upper half a little down so your ass could be higher in the air. You heard Grayson whistled and then the bed shaken underneath you. You got ready for what it was about to come and two seconds later Grayson trusted fast his cock inside you.

You almost forgot how big and thick he was.

“FUCKKK.”

“Shit. You got tighter or what?” He asked surprised at your tightness and stood still for a moment told let you adjust to his size, something you could never done because he was simply huge.

“Move Grayson, move.” You panted and he immediately obligated. His hips hit the back of yours hard, the slapping echoing through the silent room, and his dick stretching your walls. Your eyeballs rolled back at the steady, hard and deep rhythm of his trusts.

His hands gripped your waist to steady himself and his eyes closed in pleasure. Sweat run down both of your foreheads as the room felt hotter by the second.

“Deeper Grayson.” You told him. Grayson nodding his head, he moved his body as closer to you as possible and the tip of his cock hit the sensitive skin inside you that made your body shook under him.

He stopped for a moment because he felt himself closer to the end and he didn’t want to finish just yet. “Why did you stop?” You asked him annoyed.

“Come on, get up. I have an idea.” He said and after sliding off you, you got up and waited for him to speak. “Move towards the window and face in front.”

You walked over the large window and with a confused look Grayson smacked himself back inside you and started bumping fast and hard. You moaned as you collided to the cold glass, your nipples getting hard again by the cold and you looked outside to see if anyone was watching you. There were some people walking by but no one looked at you.

Grayson peaked a faster rhythm that made his hard balls hit you and then your body hitting the window. One of Grayson’s hands that were around your waist reached down to your clit and started toying with it. “Oh.My.God.” you said with every trust.

“Come on baby girl. Cum all over my dick.” Grayson told you. He knew you were close, he knew your body too well.

“Shit. I’m-I’m close babe.”

He made circle moves on your clit and that was when you lost it. Your eyes rolled back to your skull and your body let your fluids run down your pussy and into Grayson’s cock.

His hand left your clit and then found your shoulder and he took a glance down at your bodies as he tried to reach his own high.

You were panting uncontrollably since your body was still moving. With a small smile you clenched your walls around Grayson feeling that vein on him making him groan. “Do that again.”

Once again you did as you were told and clenched around him and then you felt Grayson standing still and his warm seed filling you up. His head fall on yours as you heard him breathing hard.

 “That was such a good welcoming Gray.” You said and turned to look at him as you kissed his lips.

“Yep. You need to leave more often if the sex is that good afterwards.” He commented making the both of you laugh.

[anycontentposter]

Recapping 2019: The Worn & Wound Team’s Top Watch Pickups of the Year

Part of what features being as watch-obsessed as we are is offering, purchasing, and trading watches. With 2019 ending, we believed it’’d be enjoyable to get the &Worn &Wound group together to share our preferred pickups of the year. As constantly, let us understand what your preferred 2019 pickup was by leaving a remark listed below.

.Christa Chance – – Warehouse Manager.Hamilton Khaki Field Mechanical Black PVD.

I’’ ve long been a fan of the Hamilton Khaki, since being talented one a couple of years back. Integrating a rugged toughness with traditional military appearances, it’’ s without a doubt among my preferred watches to use. I’’ ve used it all over, from outdoor camping in the Catskills to satisfying orders at our storage facility. On leather or nylon, one-piece strap or 2-, it looks terrific on whatever, with whatever. For somebody with as numerous watches as I have, it’’ s hard to discover a single watch that scratches all my gathering itches, however Hamilton did it with the Khaki Field —-- and after that they did it once again. A month ago Hamilton brought out a variation of the Khaki Field Mechanical in black PVD, and when I initially saw it my eyes almost popped out of my head. It was so smooth, so sharp, so cool, and with an 80-hour power reserve, it was adept in the technical department either. Nearly as though they read my mind, the people here at Worn &&Wound amazed me with one for Christmas, and I sanctuary’’ t had the ability to take it off my wrist since.

. Mark McArthur-Christie – Contributor. Omega Speedmaster X-33.

You’’d believe I ’d discover, wouldn ’ t you? I got my very first Omega Speedmaster X-33 back in 2014. It’’ s a splendidly useful little set —-- a little like an Aerospace however for individuals who like alarms that’’ ll wake you with 6 hour jet lag and a display screen you can really check out. Within 6 months, I’’d offered it. I missed it, so I tracked another one down a matter of weeks later on. Offered that a person, too. Now I lastly have another and I’’ m keeping it. Would you excuse me —-- the alarm’’ s simply gone off and that indicates the Christmas beef’’ s done.

. Justin Hargett – Director of Public Relations.VERO x W&W 36 Automatic LE.

I have a watch roll filled with dive and pilots watches, so when I got to invest a long time with the Vero X Worn &&Wound 36 Automatic LE at the San Francisco Wind Up Watch Fair, it was interesting to see something else on my wrist for a modification. Personally, the midcentury ambiance matches all the furnishings in my home and my LP collection, however I am likewise a big fan of the work Vero is carrying out in their Portland, Oregon workshop.Matching Vero’’ s American-made housing, dial, and hands with a Sellita SW 200, in a minimal edition of simply 33 pieces, I understood I needed to choose one up prior to they were opted for great. The 36 LE is now my go-to gown up watch, however more frequently you’’ ll discover it on my wrist with a black tee shirt and denims. It simply looks that excellent.

.James Helms – – Director of Product Management.Hamilton Khaki Field Mechanical Earth PVD.

2019 was the year I broke out of my automated watch shell and went with a hand-wind mechanical. I’’ ve constantly felt that mechanical watches would not fit my way of life —-- the concept of needing to keep in mind to hand-wind them kept me totally far from the choice. Then I attempted the Hamilton Khaki Mechanical and was blown away at what I have actually been missing out on. Total with an 80-hour power reserve, this fairly priced mil-inspired watch boasts numerous color choices, however I opted for the Earth-PVD surface since it’’ s simply such a special appearance. It’’ s completely sized and dead simple to check out, and I’’ ve been using it a heap. I've even grown to like winding the watch, though provided the increased power reserve I just do it every number of days.

.Brad Homes – – Contributor.Rolex Milgauss.

The Rolex Milgauss has actually been a long-lasting target of mine because I initially entered watches years back. I swept in between the Z-Blue and the routine GV (Glace Verte = Green Glass) designs, prior to choosing the basic black dial without the green tinted crystal. To me, this is the cleanest of the modern-day Milgauss versions and for that reason the one that is most likely to age the very best (I plan to keep this one for the long run). It sits well outside the rest of my collection in regards to expense so I had some really genuine apprehension that I would child it and not use it, however I have actually had this on the wrist more than any other watch this year and it continues to bring more happiness than any other three-hander I’’ ve owned.

. Ed – Jelley – Contributing Editor.Tudor Black Bay 36 Blue.

In in 2015’’ s post I had actually discussed that I simply tried out a Tudor Black Bay 36 in blue, and, well, I right away headed out and got one a couple of days into the brand-new year. The Black Bay 36 has actually seen a lots of wrist time for me. I like the adaptability of the watch —-- it’’ s simple to dress up or down and the specifications are difficult enough for almost anything I can toss at it. Have a look at my complete evaluation for the rundown . I likewise captured and launched a Seiko SRP775 over the summer season that I liked, however didn’’ t wear enough. Most just recently, a Raven Solitude with gray dial got in the collection, and while I like it, it’’ s going to be difficult to dismiss the Tudor as my leading pickup of the year.

.Blake Malin – – Director of Business Development.Omega Railmaster from the 1957 Trilogy Collection.

I initially saw the Railmaster 60th Anniversary in the metal at Baselworld 2017, in addition to its 2 trilogy-mates, the Seamaster 300 and Speedmaster. Just like numerous of the watches we see at Baselworld each year, I keep in mind believing to myself, ““ These watches are f—— ing terrific. I’’ ll most likely never ever own one. Now on to the next thing.” ” Flash forward 3 years and, while in Plano, TX for an occasion at Timeless Luxury Watches, I saw a carefully utilized Railmaster and needed to attempt it on. It right away felt ideal – – the percentages are terrific and the vintage styling is area on. While I hadn’’ t idea of the Railmaster basically at all considering that Baselworld 2017, I established a little bit of a fixation after attempting it on once again. A week approximately later on, the Railmaster was provided to our workplace. Absolutely my most spontaneous watch purchase to date, however likewise my preferred pickup of 2019.

.Zach Kazan – – Associate Editor.Classic Zenith Defy a7682.

This year saw a great deal of modifications in my individual watch collection. A number of the watches I began the year with are no longer with me, and a few of those I’’ m ending the year with, I couldn’’ t have actually perhaps prepared for. The Zenith Defy a7682 is among those pieces. I was drawn to the creativity of this Defy, which is best out of the 1970s, however likewise out of time totally. This wasn’’ t precisely a big hit for the brand name. Even in the years of intense, vibrant colors and cool case shapes, the Defy had a hard time to get a grip. Taking a look at it with the eyes of a collector of mainly modern-day watches, it appears like a whole generation slipped up. This is among the most sturdily constructed watches —-- of any period —-- that I’’ ve owned, and the “ lobster ” bracelet, while a gotten taste, is extremely comfy and an engineering marvel. The red dial, however, is the standout, and while I wear’’ t have the closet to match this thing regularly, that doesn’’ t stop me from grabbing it nearly daily given that I selected it up in the fall.

.Christoph McNeill – – Contributor.Eagle Star Squale Master.

Well, for as soon as this is an extremely simple concern to address for me. This year was rather a sluggish year watch-wise for me, as I just obtained one watch, a vintage 1960s Eagle Star Squale Master. To be sincere, even if I chose up twenty watches this year, in all probability this Squale still would have been the choice. Classic Squale Masters are relatively limited in any condition, and one as minty-fresh as this one is downright unusual. The two-tone faded gray/black dial with the black acrylic bezel insert and the bad-ass chunky Master case are just superb. It’’ s not surprising that Squale has actually been launching heritage variations of this expect years. I presently have the watch on a hand made green canvas strap that I believe sets perfectly.I was fortunate adequate to pry this charm from the hands of a fellow collector last February, and it appears to have actually sufficed for me this year.

.Ilya Ryvin – – Managing Editor and Video Producer.Tudor Black Bay Fifty-Eight.

For me, it needs to be my Black Bay Fifty-Eight. My Grand Seiko Ref. SGBX061 certainly got one of the most quantity of wrist time in 2019 by virtue of the truth that I’’ ve owned it longer, however given that getting my Black Bay previously in the year, the fan-favorite scuba diver has actually controlled. It’’ s such an attractive watch, and, like the Sub, it ’ s extremely flexible with whatever I’’ m using.’Now, I ’ m no scuba diver. Heck, I ’ m hardly comfy in the shallow end of a pool. I value the robust, dive-watch construct of the case and bracelet of scuba divers like the Black Bay, and given that the birth of my kid previously this year, I feel comfy with it on my wrist when I’’ m cleaning pacifiers and bottles and throughout bath time. I can’’ t state the exact same of a few of my dressier pieces with their leather straps and lower WR scores. I’’ ve just recently required to using it on a nylon strap. I truly dig the design, and it’’ s a great modification of rate from the steel bracelet. And, unlike some scuba divers, the head is healthy when off its bracelet.

.Zach Weiss – – Executive Editor and Creative Director.Junghans Max Bill 027/3701.00.

This year my leading choice up was the Junghans Max Bill 027/3701.00. While my most used watch would be the Farer Lander Chrono I blogged about throughout the summer season, limit Bill is a watch that I had actually desired for, well, I’’ m not even sure for the length of time. I remember seeing Max Bills in display screen cases at the MoMa style shop as a kid and taking an interest at that time (in all fairness, I was constantly into watches). For some factor, I kept not purchasing one, likely due to the fact that they are so easily offered, so I never ever felt the seriousness to do so. And now that I have actually chosen one up, I see how regrettable that was. Including a real all-dial style, the 34mm hand-wound design is true-to-the-originals from the ‘‘ 60s and a best expect me. It has an authentic, classy, and advanced design that I attempt state couple of other watches have or will ever accomplish, and it’’ s blended with the type of information a watch geek can actually value, like an enormous domed crystal and curved hands.

The post Recapping 2019: The Worn &&Wound Team's Top Watch Pickups of the Year appeared initially on Worn &&Wound .

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[its-the-fifth-horseman]

Chapter 1: Welcome to Acordia Petra

12:41 PM,

Saturday,

20th Oct 2007,

Goldwing Airport,

Maysteirn City,

Maysteirn, Acordia Petra

“Like a true nature's child...we were born, born to be wild...we can climb so high...I never wanna die...born to be wild...born to be wild...”

Niko was banging his head slightly while doodling on his drawing pad.

“Born to be wild..”

When he was satisfied with his work, he took off his headphone before taking a peek at the small circular window beside his seat. Small gray rectangular shapes can be seen in a distance. He took another glance at his sketching before putting it back in his knapsack. Instinctively, he turned towards his left. A young girl with a long purple dyed hair, wearing a white mini-tee and a red short skirt was staring at him. Their eyes met and locked for awhile. He can only guess that she might have been staring at him for quite sometime during the flight.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please return to your seats, put your seats upright and fasten your seat belts. We will be landing shortly...”

“Finally..” thought Niko. He was finally there.

A couple of minutes later, the aircraft began to descend slowly before its tires finally hit the runaway.

[Loud blowing sound]

Nicholas “Niko” Bailey, a 25 year old online celebrity, flew all the way from Novus Stellar to Acordia Petra to meet up with his ghost-hunting buddies he befriended from the “Ghosts R Us” online forum. His interest in the search for the supernatural began all the way back from when he was a teenager, back before online video-sharing was even a thing. He had tonnes of footage that fueled his channel on the “WatchMe” video-sharing website. That garnered him no less than 1 million subscribers, thanks to his never-ending curiosity in exploring abandoned structures and supposedly haunted sites. The aircraft finally came to a halt.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have landed on Goldwing Airport. Thank you for flying with Zephyr Airways and we hope to see you again. Have a nice day.”

Niko was about to get up after unfastening his seatbelt but before he had a chance to do so, the girl that was sitting across the aisle suddenly bumped into him.

“I'm sorry..[Giggling]..”

“It's ok..no harm done..” said Niko while smiling back at her.

Something fell from her hand and onto his lap when she was moving forward towards the exit. It was a piece of folded paper. Niko immediately grabs it.

“Miss!”

By then the girl was already way ahead of him amongst the other passengers that was exiting the aircraft. He then unfolds the paper.

“corny_stony89@letsmeetup.com”

Niko smiled to himself.

[Moments later in the baggage reclaim area]

The glass door slides open as he exited the baggage reclaim area. He immediately looks for his ride amongst the crowd where dozens of placards were being held up in the air.

“Where the hell are they..”

Seeing how they agreed to make their first meeting more interesting, none of them knows what Niko looks like and vice versa. The only form of identification would be his name, written on a placard and hopefully with 3 people waiting for him. He was dragging his single luggage and almost reached the end of the line when suddenly, he heard a chanting.

“Niko..Niko..Niko..Niko..Niko..”

He saw a placard being raised, coming from the direction of the sound but it was not until he was close enough that he was able to read was written on it.

“WE WANT NIKO!”

“Oh my God..seriously?..[Chuckling]..”

“Niko..Niko..Niko..Niko..Niko..”

Two guys and a girl was chanting his name while looking over him, somewhat oblivious to the fact that he was already standing right in front of them. The guy wearing an orange t-shirt and a pair of sunglasses was the closest to him and was at least an inch taller than him. Niko cleared his throat.

“Ahem..”

“Niko..Niko..Niko..Niko..Niko..”

“What the fuck..”

“AHEM!”

“Niko..Niko..Niko..Niko..Niko..”

“Guys..guys..it's me..I'm Niko..”

“Niko..Niko..Niko..Niko..Niko..”

“Hey! It's me..I'm Niko..you can stop now..”

“Niko..Niko..Niko..Niko..Niko..”

“This is unbelievable..”

Either he was invisible or they just simply choose to ignore him. Running low on patience, Niko did something else. Without warning, he jumps and grabs the placard that was being held by the tall guy. That definitely got their attention. Everyone went silent. All of them exchanged awkward stares for a moment. The tall guy then walked towards him before checking him out from head to toe. His action was somewhat intimidating.

“The hell is he looking at..”

The guy then took off his sunglasses.

“Hmm..”

He took a quick look at his friends before looking at Niko again. Suddenly, he raises his hand and started “measuring” Niko's height by hovering his palm above his head.

“What are you doing?” asked Niko.

The guy paused momentarily.

[Laughing sound]

His laughter was followed by his friends.

“[Laughing]..I thought you'd be taller..are all Novatians this short?”

Niko can see what was going on.

“That depends, are all Petravians this annoying?”

They stopped laughing. The look on the guy's face suddenly changes.

[Laughing sound]

Niko can't help but feel like he's in a very bad circus show.

“[Laughing]..I'm..I mean..[Laughing]..We're sorry, mate..it's just..[Laughing]..it's just a friendly fire..that is all..[Chuckling]..We already saw you but..you know..since we thought you would be taller..we just wanna be sure..[Chuckling]..”

Niko stood silent.

“[Chuckling]..Sorry..[Chuckling]..Sorry bout' that mate..anyway..glad to finally meet you..I'm..”

“Vader, right?”

“Yeah..yeah..that’s right..or you can just call me by my nickname which is Vernon Masterson..[Chuckling]”

“No kidding..you're just as 'hilarious' as you are in the forum.” said Niko while maintaining his expression.

“Really..ok..hehe..hey..no hard feels eh?..We're all friends now..and your nickname would be?”

Niko took a moment to “forget” Vader's bad joke.

“[Clearing throat]..I'm Nicholas..Nicholas Bailey..”

Both of them then shook hands.

“Wow..that is your real name..no kidding..” said Vader, looking for another joke to crack.

The blond girl wearing a white sleeveless top with black stripes then went forward towards them.

“Hi..We're sorry about that..Vernon can be such an asshole sometimes..I'm Cassandra..Cassandra Yates..”

“CutiePieCass..of course..” It was no secret that she was Vader's girlfriend.

“Yeah..well..it's just Cass if you don't mind..” smiled Cass.

The big black guy wearing a silver-purple basketball jersey with a cap that matches the color then joined in.

“And you must be JayBird..” said Niko before Jay can say anything.

“Right on, fam..Jermaine Colster..at your service..” said Jay while shaking his hand.

“That accent..you a Vynaerian?..”

“Guilty as charged, fam..[Laughing]..”

All of them laughed for a short while before heading towards a big white van that was parked nearby.

[Sliding sound]

“This is a sweet ride you got here, bro..” said Niko as he shut the back door closed.

“You can't have a sweet ass of you don't have a sweet ride, ain't that right, love?” said Vader while looking at Cass who was sitting next to him. She then smacks him on the shoulder.

“Nevermind him, Niko..you'll get used to it..” said Cass.

“Do I have a choice?” All of them laughs again.

“So, Niko, you got a girl back home?” asked Cass. The question was even more awkward than Vader's bad jokes.

“Uh..not really..hehe..why do you ask?”

“See..told ya' he's a virgin..[Laughing]..” said Vader as he started to maneuver the car out of the parking lot.

“What? How would you know? I'm just single!”

“They said that virgins have this certain look and smell..[Laughing]..” replied Jay.

The laughter continues.

“Alright..alright..enough jokes..let's get you to safety first..” said Vader as they finally made it out into the highway.

“So..are we gonna start talking about the house or..”

“No..no..mate..mate..come on..it's been a long ride..let's just get you back to the hotel first, yeah? And hopefully some action for the night..[Laughing]..” Cass smacks her boyfriend's arm again.

“[Wincing]..Love!..Dear!..It was for him!..God knows he needs it!..[Laughing]..”

The van continues to move along the highway. In a distant, a tall metallic cylindrical building can be seen coming up on the horizon.

[netamashii]

Honestly your art is goals! Your lineart is insane! The poses! And the coloring!!! Oh my god the coloring is just perfect! I want to draw like you so badly aaaaah! Do you think you can give out any pointers? Or how did you got to making such a beautiful and smooth lineart ? Honestly I don’t want to bug you, but I would kill to draw like you some day!!! Bless you!

t-thank you!!!! i’m not super good at giving pointers or explaining things well, but i’ll try. 

for the lineart, there isn’t much to say. what i do is use one layer for sketching, 

i like blue for sketching, but the colour doesn’t really matter, use whatever is easier on the eyes for you. after i’m satisfied with the rough sketch, i try to trace it on a different layer which will later become the lineart layer. 

^ like this narancia piece here, you can find it on my twitter, lineart vs sketch

> if you have shaky hands, or aren’t confident in your tracing abilities, or have problems tracing straight lines, choose a smaller resolution for the file. i used to work with files bigger than 3000x and i have to say, lineart was a lot more difficult because of its size. now, if i don’t plan on making it a print or if i don’t REALLY need the file to be so big, i usually go with a 1500x 

> obviously, i don’t get it right the first time either, so working on the lineart involves a lot of ctrl+z and redoing the same thing at least 3 or 4 times

i use paint tool sai 99% of the time, if i’m feeling adventurous and want to try some different brushes, i open clip studio paint. ^ those are my settings for the brush i use to do the lineart

> advice #1: try to use different colours for different parts of the lineart (dark red or brown for the face, a slightly darker shade than what colour hair is, same with clothes, etc.)

> advice #2: make the lines on the outside of the lineart a bit thicker than the lines used inside the lineart. for example:

(sorry for using reigen’s ass, it was the first example i could find)see the outer lines? slightly thicker than the lineart for his hair or spine. 

>advice #3: i don’t use black for lineart, but a slightly darker gray. looks smoother. 

videos of me drawing are posted on my patreon @ https://www.patreon.com/netamashii

i have some uploaded on tumblr and twitter as well: link 1 and link 2

i get very VERY easily distracted when drawing, so it takes a lot more time than it should to finish a drawing. however, i am willing to start posting more videos of me drawing things, sketches, linearts, colouring, if people agree to donations to my ko-fi account.it’s quite time consuming and that would involve me focusing on something for more than 5 minutes without checking 2384732 tabs. 

if you’d like to see more videos of the process, you can support me with coffees, leave a message, and i’ll try to post more videos. 

obviously, i try to post videos regularly on my patreon, so check that out too

thank you for the lovely message, i’m extremely happy people enjoy what i post, i hope this helps, even a little bit!!!

[jvzooproductsclub]

Video Matrix Review and Bonuses

Video Matrix Review and Bonuses

Learn more here: http://mattmartin.club/index.php/2017/06/13/video-matrix-review-bonuses/

God loves, hype kills. Marketing departments everywhere are doing such a thorough job that it seems every other day, a new entertainment property emerges that is heralded as the be-all, end-all experience ever to grace a movieplex, television screen or concert stage. Usually, the “new best thing” cannot stand up under the weight of expectation.

If the universal hype machine had never been fired up, perhaps folks would just sit back and enjoy their movies, games and music. But as it stands, everyone is expecting the most mind-blowing, orgasmic experience of their lives every time they sit in a theater or pop a game in their console or PC. The second Matrix film, The Matrix Reloaded has been playing to mixed reviews, partially due to the rampant hype that has been unleashed by the creators, media and fans. As the tagline states, no matter where you are “The Matrix Has You.”

Enter Enter the Matrix. Developed by Shiny and published by Atari, it’s the first game ever to exploit the uber-lucrative Matrix license. It’s impossible to know what kind of game would have to be shipped in order to avoid disappointment, but it’s easy to see that Enter the Matrix is not that game.

Hype aside, what it is, is an above-average action game that incorporates cool elements of the film with a decent engine to provide an experience that is similar to Dead to Rights and Max Payne. What’s more, the movie’s creators went the extra mile to ensure that the game isn’t a rehash of what played out onscreen in The Matrix Reloaded. Instead, the movie follows the side-story of Niobe and Ghost, and their missions within the Matrix to help the A Team (Neo, Morpheus and Trinity) succeed. There is tons of exclusive content that was shot at the same time as the film that is inter-cut with the story. That alone is probably worth at least a rental from hardcore Matrix fans, and there are a lot of them in the world. Enter the Matrix Head-to-Head! Now that you know how the game stacks up, why not find out which version is best? IGN Insiders have full access to our highly detailed comparison, including side-by-side screenshots, load time comparisons, and more! It’s also complemented by a detailed Video Head-to-Head!

Text Comparison | Video Comparison

Enter the Matrix is neither as bad or as good as everyone was predicting. It’s good enough to hold your attention, and the fighting and bullet-time elements are very cool, but the game is also deeply flawed. Chalk it up to a development cycle that absolutely needed to put the game in stores by the release of the movie, but do chalk it up. Enter the Matrix is not all that it could be, but it is worth a look as is.

Gameplay  When determining what absolutely needed to be included in a Matrix game, Shiny and Atari got about 70% of the stuff they should have. The acrobatic fight scenes and cool bullet-time effects are here in spades. These two elements account for a lot of what made the films cool. Slow-motion kung fu and bad-ass weapons lay the foundation for the action in both the films and the game, and it’s as solid a foundation as any. The designers know a thing or two about their audience, and they knew that the fighting had to be great in order to sell this product. In terms of fun, it definitely is. The fighting system allows for a lot of context-sensitive action, meaning you can use your environment to create attacks and movements seen in the movie.

The focus system, which is the basis for all of these maneuvers, allows you to enter “bullet-time” (provided you have enough juice in your meter) and see your enemies in a sort of slowed-down reality. This effect is not new to video games. Max Payne, GTA III and Vice City, Dead to Rights and Perfect Dark have all used this sort of battle technique. But in those games (with the exception of Max Payne), it was often more of a gimmick than anything.

Graphics

Early in the development cycle, there were concerns that Enter the Matrixwouldn’t get anywhere close to the slick feel of the film. While the gap narrowed between then and now, it never fully came together. Throughout the game, the color pallette is a dull, almost sickly green, with a few muted grays thrown in for spice. That would be fine (as the films’ pallettes are not that much broader) if the textures throughout were good. They’re not. They vary from polished (the marble in some of the larger indoor sequences) to pretty bad (some of the rock and concrete effects outside).

Sound

One of the handiest things about having a great movie license like The Matrixis that the game music can be lifted directly from the film. Too often, however, game designers get lazy and don’t use music correctly. That isn’t the case with Enter the Matrix. All of the dramatic fight music is employed here, and it’s almost always applied well. There’s something satisfying about kicking ass in slow-motion as the awesome score from the film punctuates the action. The blending of one passage of music to another is handled fairly well throughout as well ,although there are a couple of moments where the music simply stops, then resumes.

The aural goodness doesn’t end at the score, however. This is a sonically rich game, especially if you have the setup to appreciate it. The sound effects from the film are brilliantly captured here, including the agent-morphing effect, and the Matrix-drizzle effect (for lack of a better term).

Special attention has also been paid to getting the gunfire and explosions sounding extra-delicious. There are definite differences between the cadences of the guns. Beyond that, the echoes and ambient noise surrounding the hail of gunfire (bodies being hit, tiles exploding, etc.) sound absolutely amazing.Also quite magnificent is the difference between real-time sound and focus-time sound. The “underwater” sound of focus is similar to the sound of bullet-time in the film, and it is a glorious sensation, indeed. The transition between real and focus time is also quite keen. Don’t believe me? Then your TV isn’t loud enough.

The Verdict

This is the most difficult kind of game to make and review, simply because everyone in the world has preconceived notions of what a Matrix game should be, and can be very disappointed if the game doesn’t live up to their lofty or idiosyncratic expectations. Enter the Matrix is a decent game. It’s not as good as Dead to Rights, and not as fun as Max Payne. But people want to play it (including me), because it is a game based on the films.

The fundamental flaw with this game is that it looks and feels slightly unfinished, from the unpolished textures to the bad camera and sparse level design. The fact that the game had to ship at the same time the film was in theaters was an economic decision, and unfortunately, that compromised some of the quality. It happens all the time. But no one wants it to happen to the game based on movies they love.

That said, it’s worth a play to see the extra footage and experience the bullet-time and focused hand-to-hand combat. At times the game makes you completely forget its flaws and hone in on the joy of creative carnage. The first time you pull off a spinning kick off the wall, don’t be surprised if a smile creases your lips. If only the whole game was able to capture the fun inherent in the fight sequences, it would be a true masterpiece.

If you buy through my affiliate link (just click on any link on this page) you get these bonuses below: СНЕСK ІТ NОW

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