#we haven’t gotten arrested (yet)

[starrysymphonies]

A little late to the party but I had to do it anyway!

This is one of my parties from the d&d campaigns I play, these are The Devil’s Advocates! (As 3/4 of the party is tiefling of some kind)

We’re rocking with Bors bcs Bors is rocking with us

[arcticmist0324]

Also be EXTREMELY CAREFUL who you talk politics too. A lot of us already have our positions known to others, but keep that information on lock as much as possible because it could be dangerous to your safety.

I hope Trump was being hyperbolic about “the enemy within,” but we can’t be too certain this isn’t going to usher in a new era akin to McCarthyism.

If by some miracle sweet potato Hitler doesn't win come the end of the week, this won't be necessary, but should he win here are some of the first things to be aware of or do.

If you know a trans person, no you don't. Respect them as best you can in private but you know nothing in public.

Be aware that TikTok will likely be banned, find new platforms to spread information. Fuck Twitter and what ever tiktok replacement he's working on.

Learn to Garden, even in winter so you can feed yourself should prices skyrocket

Get an air purifier. The Clean Air Act is likely to be stripped of its power with the EPA deregulated, air quality is going to suffer

Should you have kids, try to supplement history/social studies education. That's the first place they will attack, if you need help ask, history teacher will help

Try and do what you can to be aware of your health before January.

Help one another. That's the best way we can move forward and make change in the future.

[starlightkun]

⏯ word count: 16.6k ⏯ warnings: general angst around not knowing what you’re doing with your life, the usual cursing ⏯ genre: fluff, suggestive/steamy but no actual smut, strangers to lovers, band au, punk drummer!sungchan, office worker!reader, not really badboy x good girl trope, more like sungchan has tattoos and reader is… a bit boring and hates her job. but she’s trying!, reader is having a quarter life crisis, ft. shotaro/eunseok/wonbin as sungchan’s bandmates, and nct dream 00 line as reader’s normal friends™ ⏯ author’s note: take a shot every time i say ‘tattoos’ in this fic, and you’ll die of alcohol poisoning! ⏯ sequel ⏯ now playing… quarter life – txt | NEED (ooo-eee) – løren | medicine – woz

“If you really want to do something brand new…” Sungchan took your receipt out of your hand, writing on the back of it with a pen that was on the counter. “Make this your thing for tomorrow.”

“You still haven’t told me what you do.”

“Live a little. And bring some friends, yeah? Don’t want you getting lonely in the mosh pit.”

“Y/N’s hit her quarter-life crisis,” Jaemin announced for you as the two of you joined your other friends at dinner.

You groaned and dropped your head in your hands, already regretting telling him your idea.

“24…” Renjun muttered to himself, then said louder, “Hey, life expectancy of 96, not bad.”

“So what is it?” Donghyuck grinned. “A tattoo? Nipple piercings? I can’t see any hair dye or choppy bangs done with kitchen scissors, so—”

“Don’t give her any ideas.” Jaemin shot him a disapproving look.

“So she doesn’t know what her quarter-life crisis is going to be yet? She’s… planning it out?” Jeno asked skeptically.

“No. She’s decided to do one spontaneous and/or new thing every day,” Jaemin explained your idea to the group.

“Oh. That’s not so bad.”

“So you’re in your manic pixie dream girl era… at 24,” Renjun nodded slowly.

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes, sitting up straighter as you went to defend yourself. “It’s not a… thing. I’m just tired of feeling like my whole life is filler, okay?”

“Main character syndrome,” Donghyuck declared.

“No, I’m not going to expect the entire world to revolve around me and call random people in public NPCs,” you retorted. “I just want something different in my life, alright? You know I’ve never even gotten drunk?”

“24 is not the time to start,” Renjun stated disapprovingly.

“Exactly, we’re not 19. Can’t get blackout and snap back the next day anymore.” Jaemin shook his head.

Donghyuck looked a bit miffed at Jaemin’s advice. “Speak for yourself.”

“I’ve barely been tipsy,” you pointed out.

“So you’ve always had a prefrontal cortex, unlike us. Congrats,” Jeno shrugged. “I don’t think that’s a bad thing?”

“I’m the boring friend, aren’t I?”

“Boring isn’t bad!” Donghyuck tried to reassure you.

“So I am,” you huffed, dropping your cheek into your palm.

“You’re plenty of fun, Y/N,” Jaemin promised, rubbing your arm soothingly.

“If we didn’t like you, and didn’t have fun with you, we wouldn’t hang out with you,” Jeno pointed out, actually sort of making you feel a little better.

“I’m fun like rotting in bed all day is fun.” You knew you were just pouting now, but you were finding it hard to shake your sullen feeling.

“Exactly!” Donghyuck said brightly.

“Shut up!” Jaemin hissed at him, and you heard a sudden yelp as you imagined that Jaemin had kicked your other friend under the table.

“Y/N, do what you need to do.” Renjun leaned forward across the table. “We’re your friends, so here’s the obligatory: don’t die, don’t get maimed, and if you do something illegal, don’t get arrested.”

“This is why I didn’t want to tell you guys. I’m not even doing crazy things. Yesterday I walked home instead of taking the subway,” you informed them glumly.

“That’s new!” Jaemin cheered supportively, squeezing your shoulders.

“Yeah, whatever…”

Clutching your tote bag strap tighter to your body, you turned onto a street, trying to ignore the sun that was getting lower in the sky. Surely this way would lead towards your apartment. You’d lived in this city your whole life, you could walk from your work to your home, two places that you went to every single day.

There was a tall man outside one of the shops on this street, and you went to skirt around him on the sidewalk as he swept a few stray leaves and dirt out of a bookstore. Other than him, the street was fairly quiet, many of the stores having already closed up for the day.

“What are you doing?” The young man called out to you before you could fully pass him by.

You pivoted around on your heel, quickly looking around to see if there was anybody else that he could possibly be talking to. But it was definitely just you and him.

He looked about your age, wearing a cream pink long-sleeve button down presumably as part of the store uniform, though you weren’t sure if he really needed to have it buttoned all the way to the top button. It seemed a bit too warm out for that.

“Walking. Why?”

“This is the fourth time you’ve walked by here.” He did a sweeping point to the sidewalk in front of the shop, then leaned against the broom he had been cleaning with. “Wasn’t sure if you might have a particular destination in mind.”

“Fuck! I knew I was going in circles!”

“You’re lost.”

“Yeah, this isn’t my normal way home…”

“And your phone died?” He cocked his head curiously.

“No, I’m trying to get home without using my phone map,” you admitted, looking around for any familiar landmarks.

“Why? That’s what it’s for.”

“It’s… You’ll think it’s stupid. My friends did.”

He shrugged. “Probably. But why does that matter to you? I’m just some guy.”

“I’ve been doing something new every day. Just small things. But if I change enough little things, then everything will have changed.”

The guy was quiet for a beat, looking altogether unimpressed, then asked, “Where do you live?”

“Uh…”

“General area, see if I can give you directions from here.”

“Oh, uhm, if you can get me to the tea shop on Magnolia, I can get myself home from there.”

“Jade Gardens, I know it,” he nodded, then pointed left down the street, in the same direction that you had just come from. “That way, left onto North Oak, right onto Foxtail, another right onto Broad Street, it’ll eventually dead end into Magnolia, keep going until you see the tea shop.”

“Left onto North Oak, right onto Foxtail, right onto Broad,” you recited. “Got it, thank you!”

“Stay safe.” He waved you off, returning to sweeping without seeing if you had gone the way he’d pointed you.

It was Monday that you got lost and were given directions home by the questionably friendly but overall helpful bookstore worker, and the tea shop on Magnolia had been on your mind since. So on Thursday, you decided to stop by after work. You were running low on the green tea that you usually kept in stock at home, and thought that you might pick up something new for yourself.

Opening the door to Jade Gardens that Thursday, you were enveloped by the familiar aromatic smells wafting around the small shop. When you didn’t hear the usual kind voice of the owner, Mrs. Choi, greeting you, you peered around the aisle that you were in to look for her.

“Mrs. Choi?” You called out, also not hearing her TV show that she usually was watching behind the counter between helping customers. You were by the black teas anyway, so you didn’t mind wandering into the next aisle as you looked for any other sign of life in the shop.

“She’s not in,” a voice that was definitely not Mrs. Choi informed you right as you turned the corner into the beginning of the green teas. You could see enough of the man’s profile to recognize him as he stood by some of the shelves in the store. The worker from the bookstore. He was standing over an open cardboard box, a couple tins of tea in his hands.

“Uhm…” You trailed off, blinking at him as you weren’t sure exactly what to say. He placed the tins on the shelf.

“You think I’m stalking you, don’t you?” He said flatly, turning to show you the name badge on his longsleeve teal shirt. It was metallic gold, with the name SUNGCHAN engraved into it. “I work here too. For the past six months.”

“Oh, right.” You relaxed, flashing him a smile. As he went back to restocking and you went back to looking at the tea on the shelves that he wasn’t currently stocking, you commented lightly, “I’ve never seen you here before.”

“I work Tuesdays and Thursdays. You ever been here on a Tuesday or a Thursday?”

“No. I always come on Sundays.”

“There you go.” He had emptied the box of product he was restocking from, and carried it into the back. When he reemerged, he stopped behind the register, but engaged you in conversation again, “So is this your new thing for today? Coming on a Thursday instead of Sunday?”

“Yeah.”

“And? Is your whole life different yet?”

“I’ve only been doing this for two weeks…” You replied defensively, looking over at him from the two kinds of green tea that you were debating between.

“Have you done anything new yet?” Sungchan asked, arching an eyebrow.

“That’s the whole point—”

“From what I know, as some guy who doesn’t even know your name, is that you have walked home from work without using the maps on your phone—something you would have done anyway—and gone to a shop that you go to regularly, just on a different day of the week. Have you done anything that you’ve never done before at all?”

“My name is Y/N, by the way.” You bit the inside of your cheek, and grabbed your tea selection. “Ordering a drink I’ve never tried at my usual boba place doesn’t count, does it?”

“You already know the answer, Y/N.”

“The point isn’t to quit my job and travel the world and completely overhaul my life—”

“I thought it was to change everything?”

“If I change enough little things, then—”

“—everything will have changed.” “—everything will have changed.” The two of you finished at the same time, Sungchan putting more emphasis on ‘everything,’ a pointed look on his face.

“I just don’t get how everything is supposed to change by you coming to a tea shop on a different day one time, but still working the same job you hate,” he sighed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“How do you know I hate my job?!” You retorted, bringing your selections up to the counter.

“If you loved it, you wouldn’t be in a crisis about changing your whole life.”

“Do you like your two jobs?”

“They’re fine.” He shrugged, ringing up your purchases.

You handed him your card. “Fine?”

“They’re just my day jobs.”

“And what’s your night job then?”

A smirk grew on his face as he bagged your tins of tea. “Nah.”

“‘Nah?’” You repeated incredulously.

“You’re not doing anything new. No point telling you.”

“If it’s stand-up, I don’t want to know,” you snorted.

“It’s not stand-up.”

“Mm, I don’t know, you’re giving me real stand-up energy right now,” you snipped, gesturing to his entire demeanor. “I’m really glad you haven’t told me, actually, because I can’t control my face when I’m told bad jokes.”

“I don’t do stand-up comedy,” he reiterated with the same calm, self-assured tone, handing you your bag of tea and receipt.

“Considering you’re refusing to tell me, I’m convinced it’s like, open mic nights. Tight fives, not even a full—”

“Not stand-up,” he said again. “But considering how badly you’re begging me to tell you—”

“Pretty sure you’re the one desperately trying to convince me you don’t do stand-up, but—”

“If you really want to do something brand new…” He took your receipt out of your hand, writing on the back of it with a pen that was on the counter. “Make this your thing for tomorrow.”

You accepted the receipt when he held it back out to you. “You still haven’t told me what you do.”

“Live a little. And bring some friends, yeah? Don’t want you getting lonely in the mosh pit.”

Your eyes scanned the address and time he had scrawled on your receipt. “Mosh pit?”

“We’re going to fucking die,” Donghyuck declared from beside you as soon as your group of friends entered the basement of the building that Sungchan had given you the address to. It was already packed with people, dark, and loud.

“Nobody drink anything!” Jaemin hissed, clutching onto your other arm. “Especially Y/N! Getting drunk is one thing, I don’t want getting roofied to be on your bucket list.”

“It’s not, Jaem,” you retorted. “Trust me.”

“Why the fuck are we here again?” Renjun yelled from behind you over the din of the crowd.

“Y/N met some hot guy—Ow!” Donghyuck had gotten cut off by you stomping on his foot.

“Sorry, it’s so crowded in here!” You glared at him. “I didn’t say anything about what he looked like. I needed something new to do for today, this seemed as good an option as any.”

“Okay, well, what the hell is this? Basement party?” Jeno asked, next to Renjun.

“I think it’s a concert?” You couldn’t see anything over the heads of the other people. “He said something about a mosh pit…”

They all exchanged a look.

“We’re going to fucking die,” Donghyuck repeated.

A roaring started up in the crowd, and you looked around in bewilderment to see what had gotten them all excited. In the far corner of the basement, it looked like a band was getting set up to play, two guitarists, a bassist, but it was the drummer that made you do a double take. You couldn’t be quite sure from the distance, the poor lighting, and the fact that the tank top he was wearing exposed two sleeves of tattoos along rather defined arms that you had never previously seen unclothed, but… that might just be Sungchan.

“We need to get closer,” you declared to your friends, yanking Jaemin along with you.

“What?!” Renjun yelped, following you nevertheless.

“Did you forget the part where he apparently said mosh pit?” Donghyuck scrambled after you.

“At least let Jeno be our human shield!” Jaemin pleaded with you.

“Thanks for volunteering me, Jaemin,” Jeno snorted, but willingly took the role, stepping in front of you to clear a path a bit easier than you had been doing on your own.

The five of you stuck out a bit, you noticed. You hadn’t exactly been given a dress code, nor a description of what to expect, so you did unfortunately stick out like a sore thumb among all the black, leather, and more black. It wasn’t that you were wearing a rainbow so much as you were clearly wearing something… uptight in comparison. Corporate. All you had was work clothes, and stuff to go to work dinners in. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d gone out to something even remotely like this. You’d done your best to dress down without wearing pajamas, but it was obvious that you were out of place.

Finally, you got close enough to the band to be able to make out the drummer’s face. He was looking down, making a final adjustment to his instrument, and when he looked back up, he pushed some of his hair out of his eyes. Definitely Sungchan. So this was his night job. Drummer. For just a second, his gaze flicked over the crowd, and you couldn’t be absolutely sure—after all, it was packed in there—but you swore he saw you for a second, surprise on his features for a moment before a cocky smirk overtook it.

One of the guitarists said something, they all had mics, you were pretty sure he was introducing the band or something, but this close to the speakers, all you could do was feel the words in your chest, not hear them with your ears. And when the music actually started, you felt like it was rearranging your brain matter. The crowd didn’t seem to really know the songs, as nobody sang along, but they were having fun nonetheless, dancing, jumping, and headbanging. As you got on your tiptoes to keep peering over Jeno’s shoulder at Sungchan, you found yourself bouncing along to the beat. Someone must have bumped into Renjun, as he stumbled into your back, and you let out a squeak and latched onto Jeno’s shoulders to avoid losing your balance.

“What is going on back there?” Jeno turned around.

You looked back at Renjun as well, who was now squeezing himself in between you and Donghyuck. Just behind and to the side of you, closer to the middle of the crowd, something was going on. Everyone was moving around a lot more, and… shoving each other?

“Mosh pit,” Renjun shook his head.

You kept your grip on Jeno’s shoulders, using them as leverage to stay on your tiptoes as you watched the performance. They had a lot of passion, you couldn’t deny that. You thought that maybe if you could actually parse out more of the melody and words being sung, you might even like their music.

Then it was over after what felt like less than a handful of songs. One of the guitarists seemed to thank the crowd briefly as Sungchan sat and spun one of his drumsticks mindlessly. And then they were done. The guitarists and bassist took their instruments with them as they disappeared into an adjoining room, and Sungchan stood up and took his sticks.

“They’re done, are we done?” Renjun requested.

“Sure, sure,” you agreed, having satiated your curiosity.

Back on the street, everyone let out a simultaneous breath of relief. Your lungs were happy to be inhaling fresh air again, and the sounds of the city streets at night felt quiet in comparison to that basement.

“My ears are ringing,” Jaemin groaned.

“Mine are bleeding,” Donghyuck scoffed.

“They weren’t that bad, Hyuck,” you rolled your eyes.

“Okay, which one was he?” He pointed an accusing finger at you. “Bookstore-slash-tea shop guy. Which one was he?”

“What?”

“He was in the band, wasn’t he? That’s why he invited you, that’s why you’re not agreeing with me right now. No way you actually liked that noise. So? Which one?”

“You’re annoying.”

“Bet he was the bassist,” Renjun took a crack at guessing. “Totally your type, Y/N.”

“I think it was the frontman, he would’ve been the only one shameless enough to beg for girls to come to their shows,” Jaemin retorted.

“Definitely not the drummer, did you see those tattoos? Our Y/N wouldn’t have gone to some random address that a guy like that gave her,” Jeno snickered.

“I’m not prejudiced, assholes,” you replied, a bit miffed when Jaemin and Renjun nodded their heads in agreement at Jeno’s assessment.

Jaemin gently reassured you, “No, of course not. You just… stick to what you know.”

“Says the four guys who were begging to leave. I thought I was supposed to be the boring friend?”

“There’s a difference between being fun and patently stupid,” Renjun snorted. “Going to a random address that some weird guy gives you falls into the second category.”

“I think it was the drummer,” Donghyuck announced, narrowing his eyes at you. “He invited you, didn’t he, Y/N?”

You poked your tongue against the inside of your cheek. “He was wearing longsleeves…”

“Knew it,” he grinned victoriously. “The other guitarist was blonde. Blondes aren’t your type.”

“So I’m predictable even when I’m trying to be unpredictable?” You groaned.

“Uh-huh.”

“We’re still getting food, right?” Jeno asked hopefully.

“Hell yeah,” Donghyuck threw an arm around your neck and shook you around. “On Y/N!”

You elbowed him in the side. “Yes to food, fuck no I’m not paying for you again Hyuck. Freeload off someone else.”

“It’s not freeloading, it’s compensation, for the damage that your boyfriend’s shitty band did to my eardrums.”

“I don’t even know him, you dick.” You shoved him off you this time, inadvertently directly into Renjun, who complained loudly at being collateral damage. “Sorry, Renjun.”

“Push him off a bridge next time, not into me,” he scoffed, straightening his clothes.

“You’ve got to stop letting him rile you up, Y/N,” Jaemin advised you, looping his arm with yours.

“Says the man who was literally threatening to run him over two days ago.”

On Monday, you walked down the street with a particular destination in mind this time. You pushed the door to the bookstore open, making the bell above it ring lightly. The inside smelled like old books and pine.

“Sorry, we’re actually about to…” Sungchan trailed off when he looked up from the register and spotted you.

“Are you closing? I can go,” you offered, already sheepishly backing up towards the exit again.

“No, you can stay. Just turn the closed sign around and flip the lock for me, will you?” He gestured to the door.

You did so, and took a few hesitant steps further into the shop as he went back to closing out the register. You were admittedly staring at him a little, trying to line up the visage of the tattooed drummer you’d seen at the show with the man in a cream pink button-up in front of you, no visible body art in sight. His hair was nicely parted and styled to show some of his forehead; he could even blend in at your office.

“Wasn’t expecting you to actually show up,” Sungchan said, pushing the drawer of the register closed.

You rolled your eyes. “Do I really seem like that much of a drag?”

“You’re wearing a pantsuit.”

“It’s a blazer and slacks! That’s not—” You looked down at your own clothes, cutting yourself off with a huff. “Point taken. From the man wearing a pink button-up.”

“Uniform.” He indicated to the shop around him generally. “I’d wear the short-sleeve option, but I have to look… how’d Mr. Kang put it? Respectable.”

“Mm, of course. I almost didn’t recognize you without the sleeves and with the… sleeves,” you finished awkwardly, trying not to picture his biceps right in that moment.

He chuckled, sitting down on a stool behind the counter. “So who was the guy?”

It took you a second to follow his leap in conversation, and even then, you didn’t quite stick the landing, only able to explain, “The guys were my friends. You told me to bring some, if you’ll recall.”

“I meant the one that you were hanging onto the whole time.”

“I didn’t realize you were watching me the whole time,” you teased, tilting your head.

“You picked a spot right in front of me. Couldn’t help but notice.”

“Jeno is my friend, as I just said. He’s sturdy, I was trying not to fall over.”

Sungchan looked at his phone. “Have you done your new thing for today?”

“By your standards? No.”

He stood up, grabbing a backpack from the ground to sling over his shoulder and jerked his head towards a narrow hallway behind him. “Come on.”

With the voice of Jaemin nagging you in the back of your mind, you followed him. At the end of the hallway was the back door of the bookstore, which led you into the alleyway between rows of shops. Sungchan locked up behind you, then dropped his bag at his feet and opened it.

“Where are we going?” You questioned.

“Food. You haven’t had dinner, have you?” He replied, starting to unbutton his shirt from the collar.

You failed to come up with an answer as he untucked it and slipped one arm out. “What are you doing?”

“Changing my shirt.” He stared back at you, the button up hanging off of one arm. You could see now that the tattoos extended onto his pecs as well. “Turn around if you want.”

Feeling like you were losing some kind of challenge, you turned your back to him, continuing your previous conversation instead. “No, I haven’t eaten.”

“Neither have I.” The zipper on the bag opened.

“But what if I’ve been to the place before?”

“I don’t think you have.” Zipped back up.

“If you told me the name—”

“Ready,” Sungchan declared, stepping up next to you. He was now in a dark shirt that had the logo of what you were sure was another band on it, and a worn leather jacket with an assortment of patches. He ran his fingers through his hair, intentionally shaking it out of the nice style from before and into a more natural, messy state. He took off down the alley, leaving you to follow after him.

“You’re not going to tell me the name of the place we’re going, are you?” You sighed.

“No.”

“What if I have allergies?”

“Do you?”

“…No.”

Sungchan turned down another street. “You left early. You missed the other bands.”

“Didn’t know there were other bands, and my friends were hungry.” You shrugged, opting not to tell him that your friends hated his music and had been begging you to leave. And that you didn’t put up a fight about going.

“Leaving after four songs to get food. Your friends sound lame.”

“They’re fun,” you immediately went to defend them. “I’m the boring one out of us. They’ve at least actually gotten drunk.”

The two of you had reached a crosswalk with the stop hand lit up. You stopped and pressed the button to wait for it to change. Sungchan paused just long enough to look both ways, then took your elbow in a loose grip and pulled you into the empty crosswalk.

“Let’s go.”

“What are you—”

“There’s nobody coming.” His hand slid down your arm to grab your hand as he walked backwards in front of you, gesturing widely with his other arm. “See? Not the end of the world.”

“I’m going to laugh if you trip over the curb behind you,” you informed him mildly, already eyeing the approaching sidewalk.

“If I fall, I’m taking you down with me.” He grinned.

“And you’ll break my fall.”

“Like in every good rom-com.”

“Are we making bets on if you’ll have a first- or second-degree concussion from hitting your head on the pavement?”

Sungchan turned around then, just in time to step up onto the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street. He smiled down at you smugly, and you made a small ‘hmph’ sound in the back of your throat. You noted that he didn’t let go of your hand as you kept walking. You didn’t shake him off.

“How far away is this place?” You checked the time on your phone. “I have work in the morning.”

“Not too far. I can’t be out late either. I have practice tonight.”

“You called the bookstore and the tea shop your day jobs, and the band is your night job…”

“Uh-huh.”

“We didn’t have to pay a cover or anything to get in on Friday. How much does your night job actually pay?”

“That one was for fun. And a twelve-pack,” he answered nonchalantly. “Where we are now, a gig is a gig.”

“They paid you in beer and exposure?” You summarized dryly.

“It was just a friend’s basement, not a real concert venue or anything.”

“Oh, underground. Literally.”

He snorted. “You’re hilarious.”

“I try.”

“Maybe you should do stand-up.”

“No thanks, my day job is paying me just fine.”

He clicked his tongue. “And yet you hate it.”

“Your words, not mine.”

“You’ve yet to tell me otherwise.”

You sighed, but unfortunately, you couldn’t outright disagree with him. The two of you turned onto another street, where you bumped up into the back of a line for a food truck. Sungchan stopped you there, letting go of your hand to reach into his jacket and pull out his wallet.

“You got cash on you?” He asked, flicking through the bills in his wallet.

“No, do I need some?” You only had your phone and your credit cards.

“They’re cash only,” he nodded towards the food truck. “It’s fine, I’ll pay.”

“Sungchan, you don’t have to,” you insisted. “We can just eat somewhere else.”

“My idea, you didn’t know, I’ll pay.” He shook his head. The line moved up then, and he urged you forward with a hand on the small of your back. “Unless you think I’m broke because I don’t have some office job that I hate like you.”

“I didn’t say that! But you did just tell me you recently got paid in beer and exposure.”

“And have two other jobs,” he reminded you.

You didn’t outright accept his offer, but didn’t argue anymore. Getting on your tiptoes, you tried to look for a menu over the other customers in line.

“What do they even have?”

“Changes every week. We’ll find out when we order.”

“What if you don’t like what they’re selling this week?”

“What do I keep telling you? Live a little.”

“Fine.” You dropped back down to flat feet with a sigh, crossing your arms over your chest. “How do you know about this place?”

“Couple of my friends run it, when they’re not playing.”

“They’re in a band too?”

“Uh-huh. That’s why it’s only open once a week. They’re performing or rehearsing every other day.” The line moved up again.

“Why have a food truck then? Food trucks run on narrow margins, they can’t be making enough money to cover their living expenses if they only do it once a week.”

“It’s not their day job. Music is.” He pointed to a piece of paper that was taped onto the side of the truck, the handwriting so faded you could barely make it out. Sungchan told you what it said anyway, “All the profits go to a local women’s shelter. And a lot of their ingredients and other stuff is donations, makes the margins a little less narrow.”

When you looked up at him curiously, he simply added, “The most punk thing you can do is help people.”

The two of you were finally at the front of the line, and a man’s head popped into view at the window. With the t-shirt he had on, you could see the tattoos that seemed to cover every inch of skin from his knuckles to his neck, the ink looking well-settled. He had gauges in his ears, the jewelry a bright rainbow of colors, and you couldn’t even count how many other piercings he had in addition to those. He seemed older than yourself and Sungchan, maybe late thirties or even early forties if you had to guess, a few specks of grey peppering his stubble.

He flashed Sungchan a bright smile as soon as he recognized him, deep crow’s feet around his eyes. “Hey, Sungchan! How are you? Sorry we missed your set Friday, SooSoo was up all night with a fever.”

“Don’t worry about it. Is she feeling better?” Sungchan asked.

“Yep, fever finally broke at like three in the morning Saturday, back to her normal self by Sunday.”

“Good to hear.”

“Anyway, let’s get you some food. I’m sure you didn’t bring your girl all the way out here to hear about my sick baby,” the older man chuckled.

Sungchan just laughed along and put in your orders. When the man turned around to help the other worker, a woman, prepare the food, you looked up at him suspiciously.

“Hm?” He had apparently noticed your look. “Oh, sorry, he was talking about his daughter, Yeonsoo. She’s… oh probably six months old now? Real cute.”

“I wasn’t—”

“Here you go.” The man was back at the window, two paper baskets of food in hand.

Sungchan went to grab a few bills out of his wallet. “How much?”

“On the house.”

“Jay, come on. Seriously, man, how much?”

“I’m serious, no charge tonight.” Jay shook his head. “You’ve never brought a date. So say thank you, don’t keep her waiting, and stop holding up my line.”

Sungchan sighed, stuffing the bills he had already grabbed into the tip jar that was on the counter and taking the food. “Thanks, man.”

“Goodnight, you two!” Jay sent you off with a jovial wave. Before you got too far, you could’ve sworn you heard a woman’s voice ask from inside the truck, “Did you say Sungchan had a date with him?”

The drummer handed you a basket of food as you started a meandering pace down the sidewalk. You took a bite to avoid talking about what just happened, despite the fact that it was very much the only thing you were thinking about.

“Oh, that’s really good,” you said, unable to contain your tone of pleasant surprise.

“I wasn’t going to take you somewhere shit for your new thing,” he replied.

“So if I told you that I had already completed my new thing for today, we would’ve gone somewhere with bad food?”

“Well, no, because I wouldn’t have believed you.”

“Oh, of course,” you scoffed.

“You probably would’ve counted going to see me at the bookstore as your something new, right?”

“I’ve never done that before. I don’t know how that doesn’t count.”

“You have talked to me at the bookstore before. When I gave you directions.”

“Yeah, but that wasn’t on purpose. And I didn’t go into the store, and it wasn’t like, a real conversation.”

“Still doesn’t count.”

“And who assigned you to decide if something counts or not? This is my thing.”

“You’re the one listening to me. I’m just some guy, remember? You could’ve told me to fuck off at any point.” He took a big bite of his food, wiping at the stray crumbs around his mouth with the back of his hand. “So either you’re really easy to peer pressure—which I doubt, considering you’ve never even gotten drunk—or you actually kind of agree with me.”

You were silent, scowling down at your rather delicious food.

“Which is it? Want me to fuck off or am I maybe kinda right?”

“Why do you even care?” You questioned in lieu of an answer. “I’m just someone who you gave directions to one time. Why do you care if I actually change my whole life with my stupid little plan?”

“Who said I care?”

“Then what is all this?”

“I’m not trying to be your life coach, Y/N.” Sungchan shrugged, then his features split into a grin. “But it doesn’t mean I don’t want to be along for the ride.”

You stared down at your feet as you thought about it, about how different Sungchan’s life was from yours just from the brief glimpses you’d gotten of it. Looking back up at him, you nodded. “I could probably use some help brainstorming new things…”

“Deal.”

“Deal.”

“Hell no.”

Sungchan grabbed your arm before you could turn and walk away from him completely. When he’d texted you the address to meet at, you thought that surely the online maps listing hadn’t been updated recently, and it was actually a restaurant or concert venue, or any other litany of things. But no, you were in fact standing in front of a tattoo shop with Sungchan, as your something new for today.

“Not for you, not for you,” he quickly reassured you. “I’m getting a new one. Have you ever been in a tattoo shop?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, looking at the darkened windows apprehensively. “No…”

“I promise you’ll make it out alive,” he teased, to which you shot him an unamused glare. “Let’s go.”

Inside was surprisingly quiet. Rock music played over the speakers at a low volume, and there was already one artist set up with a client, the tattoo gun buzzing as she worked on a large piece on their calf. But really, you’d been in libraries that were louder. Sungchan guided you over to the front desk with a hand on your back, the man behind it already standing up to greet him.

“Sungchan, hey!” The guy beamed, reaching out to shake Sungchan’s free hand. He was younger, around your age, maybe a few years older, with a patchwork sleeve of dozens of colorful, bold tattoos along his arms.

“Hey, Johnny,” Sungchan shook his hand. “How are you?”

“Just got back from doing guest slots out of town, so I’m happy to get back in the groove of my usual shop.” Johnny’s twinkling eyes then focused on you. “And who’s this?”

“This is Y/N.” Sungchan seemed to smoothly sidestep mentioning who you were in relation to him. “You don’t mind if she hangs out during my appointment, right? One guest?”

“Not at all.” The artist then picked up a tablet from the counter. “Let me show you what I’ve got drawn up, hm?”

You peered around Sungchan curiously as they went over the design. It was a black and grey circle of flowers, leaves, thorns, and branches all interwoven together. A few birds hovered along the outside of it. In the corner of the canvas that the sketch was on, you could see the reference photos that Johnny had used, of an old porcelain plate that looked like it belonged in your grandmother’s china cabinet, not on a punk drummer's skin.

“It’s great, man. You nailed it,” Sungchan gave his approval.

“And for placement, you said your back, right?”

“Yeah, I was thinking left shoulder blade?” He shook off his jacket, grabbed the collar of his tank top and took it off in one go. Both him and Johnny moved around so Sungchan could see his own back in the full-length mirror propped up on a nearby wall.

“If you fill up the rest of your back in the future, you’ll have an odd hole in the middle of that shoulder from the center of this tattoo,” Johnny pointed out, tracing where the gap would be on Sungchan’s otherwise bare skin with his tablet stylus. “Unless you were to add something in the middle of this design later on. Depending on the size we do now, that might be difficult.”

“That’s a couple options. What else you think? Upper middle?”

“Yeah, centering it will look good, whether or not you fill the rest of your back, and even if you leave the middle of the ring empty,” Johnny agreed.

“Center it is then.”

“How big are you thinking?” Johnny held his hands up parallel to each other at the top of Sungchan’s spine. “This? A little bigger? I wouldn’t go any smaller or you’ll lose detail.”

“Bigger.”

Johnny moved his bottom hand down. “Hm?”

“Yeah, about that much?”

“I’ll print a couple sizes and we’ll see how it looks.”

As Johnny sat back at the desk to print out the stencils, you walked over to Sungchan, keeping your eyes on his face.

“Whose plate is that?” You asked curiously.

“How do you know I didn’t just find it on the internet and like the design?” He tilted his head.

“The cottagecore vibes really don’t match the rest of your work.”

He looked down at his own forearms and laughed. “Okay, fair. It’s my grandmother’s.”

“Hm.” You couldn’t help but smile fondly at the idea.

Johnny returned then with a couple different stencil sizes, and he and Sungchan went back to the mirror. After determining the size of the design, the area was prepped, and the stencil applied. You watched with interest as the design was transferred from the paper to Sungchan’s skin in purple ink.

“Go check that in the mirror,” Johnny instructed.

Sungchan stood back up from where he had laid down for the application, using a second mirror in his hand to look at it closer. He motioned with his head for you to join him. “What do you think? Is it centered?”

You got up from the stool that you had been given to walk over to the mirror as well, standing behind Sungchan to evaluate the placement of the stencil. “Stand up straight. And straighten out your shoulders, you know you slouch?”

Johnny snickered from his seat.

Squinting one eye closed, then the other, you finally gave a short nod. “Yeah, it’s fine.”

“That’s the best you can hope for with her, Johnny,” Sungchan joked, returning to the padded table to lay down. “‘Fine.’”

You rolled your eyes, but took your seat on the side opposite from the tattoo artist anyway.

“High praise. Let’s do it,” Johnny grinned.

As Johnny got to work, you watched the first few strokes of his tattoo gun with interest, as the ink was deposited into Sungchan’s skin.

“You have any tattoos, Y/N?” Johnny asked, not looking up from his work.

“No,” you replied. Looking at Sungchan’s face next, which was mostly concealed by his arms and the pillow, he didn’t have any outward expression of pain. “Does it… hurt?”

The both of them chuckled, and you tried not to feel patronized, then Sungchan answered, “You ever been scratched by a cat?”

“Yeah…”

“It’s like that, but worse, and continuously.”

“Doesn’t sound pleasant.”

“It’s worse if you’re by bone,” Johnny added. “Or other sensitive areas.”

“Again, doesn’t sound pleasant.”

“An hour or so of unpleasantness in exchange for a lifetime of a cool tattoo,” Sungchan said in a tone of voice that made you think he would’ve shrugged if it weren’t for the tattoo gun currently on his upper back. “Easy trade-off if you ask me.”

“So how did you two meet?” Johnny’s voice didn’t carry any judgment, if anything he almost sounded amused.

“She came by the bookshop,” Sungchan answered simply. “You know, one of my day jobs.”

“Now that makes sense. No offense, Y/N, but you seem much more like a bookstore and coffee shops kind of girl than a basement mosh pit regular.”

You nodded slowly. “None taken… What you see is what you get with me.”

“Oh, she’s been trying new things,” Sungchan chuckled. “She’s been to a show.”

“And? What’d you think?” Johnny looked up at you eagerly.

You were a bit caught off-guard. Sungchan hadn’t even asked you if you liked his band’s performance. He’d commented on the fact that you’d showed up, who you were with, and that you left without seeing the other bands perform. But he never asked if you liked it.

“It was different for me,” you admitted. “Good different. I had fun.”

“Yeah, they’ve got a lot of heart, don’t they?” You could see the tug of Johnny’s smile at the corner of his mouth.

At the end of the appointment, Sungchan had one new tattoo and you were hungry. After paying Johnny and giving the artist your goodbyes, the two of you stepped back out onto the sidewalk in front of the tattoo parlor. It was dark out already, and you looked up at the moon, just past the streetlamp shining down on you.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m starving,” Sungchan declared. “Dinner?”

“Sure,” you agreed. “But, I pick. I’ve already done my one new thing for today, and I’m craving fries.”

“Hard to argue with that.”

The place you had in mind was only a few blocks away from Johnny’s tattoo shop. As soon as you walked in, however, you wanted to turn back around. But you were craving fries and had already been spotted. Jeno perked up curiously from behind the counter, giving you a friendly wave. Honestly, you should’ve considered this as a possibility when you brought Sungchan into his place of work. You smiled back as you stepped up to the register.

“Hey, Y/N,” he greeted you brightly, clearly interested in who you had with you, but not outright asking as his gaze strayed over to Sungchan.

“Hey, Jeno,” you said. “I didn’t realize you were working tonight.”

“Coworker got sick, I picked up a shift,” he explained. “So what can I get you? Your usual?”

“Just the fries and milkshake.” You then pointed to Sungchan with your thumb. “And whatever he wants. I’m paying.”

“Y/N—” Sungchan was clearly about to argue.

“You got it last time. Kind of.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “And they take card here. So order.”

He held his hands up. “Alright, alright.”

Picking a table in the corner as far from the cash register as you could get, you waited for Jeno to call your order number out as usual. Except this time he brought the food right out to your table on a tray. You eyed him suspiciously as he walked over.

“Here’s your food,” he smiled brightly at the both of you, taking the food off the tray to set the individual items in front of you.

“Right, thanks, Jeno,” you said. When he was still standing there after he was done, you looked at him more pointedly, “I’m not tipping you again if that’s what you’re waiting for. Goodbye, Jeno.”

“Enjoy your meal!” He took off back behind the counter.

Sungchan watched him for a moment before turning back to his food. “He was at the show.”

“Yeah, he was.”

“Your sturdy friend.”

“Yup.” You grabbed your first fry.

“The show, that reminds me—” Sungchan stopped in the middle of his sentence, sandwich halfway up to his mouth. “Uh, I think your friend just took a picture of us.”

Your phone buzzed then, and you checked the notification from your lockscreen, letting out a deep sigh. “He definitely did.”

[jeno: attached image]

[jeno: ⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️]

“Hold on, sorry,” you apologized as you unlocked your phone to properly open the message.

As soon as you started typing a scathing text about privacy, another text came through.

[jeno: FUCK WRONG GROUP CHAT]

[you: wtf do you assholes have a gc without me in it??]

You looked over at the register, shooting Jeno a glare as he was very obviously trying not to look at you. His entire face, ears, and neck were visibly pink from the other side of the restaurant.

[jeno: it was to plan your surprise party last year!]

[jaem: Y/N ON A DATE CONFIRMED???????]

[renjunnie: jeno you’re an idiot]

[hyuck: wait jeno take another picture of his face im trying to see smth]

A large group of teenagers entered then, and Jeno had to quickly put his phone away to take their orders.

Sungchan had been quietly eating his food the whole time, and raised an eyebrow as you put your phone down with a groan. “Everything alright?”

“Sorry about that…” You let out another sigh. “So what you were saying? The show?”

“Oh, I’m glad you liked the set.” He looked almost self-conscious as he spoke, a small smile on his face as he ran a hand through his hair. “You hadn’t said anything about whether or not you actually liked the show, so I figured it might not have been your thing, you know? Or, you at least told Johnny you liked it…”

“You didn’t ask.”

“Didn’t want to seem like I was fishing for compliments.”

“I had fun,” you assured him, grabbing another fry. “I’m still surprised you could even see me. It was packed in there.”

“You were easy to spot,” he teased.

“You didn’t exactly give me a dress code.”

“If I did, would you have been able to dress for it?”

You pursed your lips as you thought for a moment, then relented, “…No.”

He shrugged off his jacket and offered you the garment. “Here, so you’ll blend in better next time.”

You accepted it, already giddy at the idea of a ‘next time.’ “Then how will you spot me?”

“I think I’ll manage.”

[jeno: attached image]

[jeno: no need to see his face, hyuck. its definitely the drummer from the basement]

[hyuck: fuckin knew it]

[jaem: are we SURE those are the same tattoos?? maybe y/n knows another guy with sleeves???]

[renjunnie: still the same gc, dumbasses]

[you: jeno don’t be a weirdo challenge FAILED]

[jeno: definitely the same guy, jaemin]

[you: im gonna get you fired lee jeno]

[jeno: my rent :( ]

[hyuck: y/n out here trying to SILENCE independent investigative journalists and whistleblowers i see 🫵]

[you: OR i was trying to eat in peace and meanwhile you guys are having your weekly ‘being the most obnoxious guy ever’ competition and somehow jeno is winning this time]

[jeno: :(( ]

[jaem: you were on a DATE with drummer guy and didnt tell us???]

[you: omfg because it wasn’t a date? im allowed to hang out with people who aren’t you four]

[jaem: no youre not?]

[hyuck: since when?]

[renjunnie: and since when do you know people who aren’t us lmao]

[you: im gonna block all of you]

[jeno: :'( ]

Thursday night and you were back in the basement. This time you didn’t bring any of your friends, not wanting to subject them to an experience that they clearly hadn’t enjoyed last time, and also to save yourself from having to explain why exactly you were back in the basement again and wearing Sungchan’s leather jacket. Due to the oppressive body heat around you, you just had it draped over your shoulders, but made sure to grab either side and hold it tight to not lose it as you maneuvered through the crowd. You unfortunately barely had time to run home and grab the jacket on your way here, as your boss kept your whole team late after hours today working on an urgent deadline. You were still wearing your work clothes; you didn’t trust yourself to change quickly without freaking out over what to wear and ending up missing Sungchan’s short set.

Just as you had wormed your way into a good enough spot towards the front and near the drumset, the band walked out from the adjoining room, waving to everyone. It was easy to spot Sungchan, not only because he was the tallest, but because he wasn’t even wearing a shirt this time, as opposed to the others, who were all wearing a tank top or t-shirt of some sort. His gaze was very clearly searching the crowd for something, and stopped as soon as it landed on you. You gave him a small wave, and he smiled back as he headed to his spot.

You weren’t sure if they had set up the speakers differently this time, if your ears were just used to the volume now, or if you were positioned better than before, but you could actually understand what the frontman was saying as he introduced the band.

“Hey! How is everyone?” His voice was cheerful, and you couldn’t help but laugh as the crowd cheered back. “First, uh, big thanks as always to our buddy Anton for having us. Second, if you don’t know us, that’s fine, nobody does.”

Everyone let out a unanimous round of chuckles, and the frontman was smiling too.

“Anyway, we are Roses for Eyes. I’m Shotaro, that’s Wonbin—” He pointed to the other guitarist, then the bassist, “—That’s Eunseok over there—” and finally Sungchan, “—And we’ve got Sungchan on the drums. And we’re supposed to be performing for you guys, not reading you our non-existent Wikipedia page. Here’s the first one, ‘Lonely as Mars,’ hope you all like it.”

From the first kick of the bass drum, you couldn’t take your eyes off Sungchan. The music reverberated through your chest, and this time you could hear their voices, and the words they were singing. They were good, you decided, and you liked it. But your focus never left the drummer. He had the same relaxed, easy-going smirk on his face as the last time he played, arms flexing with each hit of his sticks.

The set simultaneously felt like ten years and ten seconds. It was a blur, and before you knew it, Shotaro was once again speaking into the mic to give the crowd another thank you and goodnight. He, Eunseok, and Wonbin took their instruments with them. Sungchan tucked his drumsticks into the back pocket of his jeans as he stood up and followed his bandmates. With no friends urging you to leave, and what certainly seemed like an infinitely long list of reasons to stick around, you stayed put exactly where you were. Exactly where Sungchan knew you were.

The next band had just come out when you felt a hand grab your arm. Turning around, you knew who exactly that hand would belong to. Sungchan had found a shirt somewhere between performing and now, a tank top that didn’t cover much more than before. And despite him having just been performing a few moments ago, nobody in the crowd seemed to notice him, all their focus on the next act.

“You did good!” You had to shout over the music of the band currently performing.

He bent down to talk right into your ear. “It’s loud over here.”

You let him guide you to a corner further back from the crowd with an arm around your shoulders. There were a few other people back there, either smoking, making out, or both. You rested your back against the wall, looking up at Sungchan, who leaned over you with his hand on the wall next to your head. You opened your mouth, about to repeat what you had said out on the floor.

“Fuck, you look so hot in my jacket,” Sungchan groaned, sufficiently wiping all previous trains of thought from your brain. His fingers messed with the zipper teeth of one side, eyes scanning your whole frame.

“I feel a bit silly wearing it with the pantsuit, but I got hung up at work and didn’t want to be late…” You trailed off, noticing that his gaze was definitely now on your mouth. Tilting your head, you asked teasingly, “Sungchan, are you flirting with me?”

“Have been for like three weeks now, thanks for noticing.”

“Unfortunately, we can’t count this as my something new. I’ve been to one of your sets before, at this exact basement,” you sighed wistfully, latching onto his free arm and pulling him even closer to you.

“Mm, good point.” His hand grabbed your waist. “I think we can come up with something to do tonight that you haven’t done before.”

“I think I’ve got one.”

“Oh, here I thought I was the ideas guy?”

You wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, pulling his mouth down to yours. Sungchan let out another low sound against your lips, grip on your waist tightening as he pushed you back into the wall as hard as you were pulling him down with you. He dropped from leaning on his hand to his forearm, caging you in closer. Your hand that wasn’t tangled in his hair was shamelessly feeling up the muscles of his arm and shoulder. When he softly sank his teeth into your bottom lip, you couldn’t help but dig your fingernails into his tricep in surprise, pushing your hips up against his insistently.

“Fuck, Sungchan,” you panted against his mouth when he pulled back for a brief moment of air, his thigh now wedged between yours.

“God, you’re so—” He pressed his lips to yours again, hand at the small of your back to pull you as close to him as possible. If you thought you were warm before packed in the crowd, you were in a stifling heat now, pinned between Sungchan’s body and the wall. He broke the kiss, asking between deep breaths, “Can—Can I take you home?”

“What about the other bands?” You giggled, lips ghosting over his as you spoke.

“Fuck the other bands,” he replied immediately. “As soon I saw you out in the crowd wearing my jacket, could barely focus on the set because you looked so good.”

“Yes, Sungchan.” You kissed him again. “You can take me home.”

As soon as Sungchan’s front door was shut, he had you pressed up against it again. You pulled at his flimsy tank top as his tongue slipped past your lips. Finally, he gave in to your persistent hands and let you pull it off him.

“Honestly, don’t even know why you bother with shirts at this point,” you scoffed, throwing it off towards the side somewhere.

“With how much I’ve spent on tattoos? I agree,” he chuckled, cupping your cheek to pull your mouth to his again.

Still attached to each other, you’d only succeeded at getting Sungchan’s belt unbuckled by the time you made it to his bedroom. Before you could unbutton his pants, however, he stepped back from you, familiar teasing glint in his eyes.

“Well this isn’t very fair, don’t you think?” He gestured between his half-dressed state and your fully dressed self.

“I thought you liked me in your jacket?” You taunted, wrapping the garment tighter around yourself.

“Which is why you’ve got to let me take it off you.” He put his hands together in a pleading motion. “And the pantsuit…”

“Mm, alright.” You dropped your hands from the jacket.

He circled behind you, hovering close to remove his leather jacket from your shoulders, pressing kisses to your neck as he did so. With him no longer blocking the rest of his bedroom from your view, you couldn’t help but be a little surprised at the presence of one thing.

“You know, I was mentally prepared for you to not have a bedframe,” you commented as he took off your blazer next.

“You got mattress-on-the-ground vibes from me and still came home with me?” Sungchan asked incredulously, letting out a breathy laugh. His deft fingers started unbuttoning your blouse next. “I think I’m flattered? And you’ve got to raise your standards.”

You turned around to face him, feeling the smirk on your face as you replied, “Let’s see how high we can raise those standards, hm?”

“Is that a challenge or what?” Sungchan laughed again, wasting no time in attaching his lips and teeth to your neck, dropping your blouse off your shoulders and to the floor.

When the garish blaring of your work alarm came, you reached over to the right to blindly grab your phone off your nightstand. Instead, your hand hit what felt like someone’s face, and you jolted up in bed as they did as well, already swearing.

“Fuck, Y/N.” Sungchan was holding his eye. “What the hell was that for? That’s not my alarm.”

Blinking a couple times to orient yourself first, you then jerked over to grab your phone off the floor on your left side. Sungchan may have had a bedframe, but he did only have one nightstand. You quickly turned off your alarm and fell back onto the mattress. You weren’t going to be able to go back to sleep, having been sufficiently scared awake, but you needed a second to catch your breath.

“Work alarm…” You explained belatedly, in case that wasn’t apparent.

Sungchan made a grunt of acknowledgement, dropping his hand from his face as he laid back down as well. He rolled over towards you, slinging an arm around your waist and burying his face in your shoulder. You stared up at his ceiling, feeling his warm breaths washing over the skin of your arm.

“Mars isn’t lonely,” you blurted out into his still-dark room.

“What?” He mumbled into your shoulder.

“It’s got two moons.”

Sungchan shifted around, propping his head up with his other hand to be able to talk. “Yes… Phobos and Deimos. Named for the Greek gods of fear and dread, respectively.”

“So to be lonely as Mars… with fear and dread as your only companions.”

“That was the idea, when we wrote it.” He brushed hair back from your face. “Don’t tell me the title of one of our songs kept you up all night.”

“No, was just kind of in the back of my mind.” You felt a sudden prickling along your skin as his hand fell to your arm, fingers playing with the sleeve hem of the t-shirt you were wearing—his. Sitting up out of his grasp, you pushed the covers off of you. “I have to get ready for work.”

Sungchan wordlessly watched you gather up your clothes from the floor and get dressed. When you went into the adjoining bathroom to check the tuck of your shirt into your pants and make other adjustments, he followed, leaning in the doorway with a troubled look on his face.

“Am I just something new, Y/N?” He asked bluntly, arms crossed over his chest.

“Am I just entertainment?” You immediately fired back, trying to smooth out a wrinkle that your blouse had acquired from sitting crumpled on the floor all night.

“What? Why would you think that?” He seemed genuinely confused.

“‘I don’t care. I just want to be along for the ride.’” You paraphrased what he said when he agreed to help you with your plan. “Am I just entertainment?”

His features softened. “No, you’re not entertainment.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, shoulders falling as they lost the tension they’d just held. “No, Sungchan, you’re not just something new.”

He walked over to you with a wide grin on his face, cupping your cheek and pressing his lips to yours. You couldn’t help but smile into the kiss too, giving him one more peck before turning back to fixing your attire in the mirror. There was nothing you could do right now about the wrinkles, but you could at least attempt something with your hair.

Sungchan stepped behind you, resting his hands on your hips and pulling you back into him. He placed a few lazy kisses along your neck, murmuring, “I think the pantsuit is growing on me, actually.”

“Then why are you trying to take it off me?” You questioned, grabbing his hand that had been reaching for your blouse buttons again.

“Because I like what’s under it better.”

“Nice try. I have work.” You spun out of his arms, heading for his bedroom door.

Two steps into the hall, you knew something was wrong. There were other voices in Sungchan’s apartment, which stopped when they saw you. As soon as your eyes registered the three men in the living room, you skittered backwards back into Sungchan’s room again.

Practically slamming his door closed behind you, you didn’t let him get whatever surprised statement he had out of his mouth, as you hissed, “Sungchan! Why is your whole fucking band out there?”

“Probably because your work alarm woke them up too,” he laughed, which turned into a yawn as he stretched his arms over his head. “They’re not really early birds…”

“Why are they here?”

“They live here?”

In your rush to get into Sungchan’s bedroom last night, you had somehow missed any signs of three other people living here. You didn’t even hear them come home last night, and you weren’t exactly… quiet yourself. Definitely not three roommates quiet.

“Oh my god…” You sunk down against the door, shaking your head. “I’m just going to stay in here and die, I think.”

“I thought you had work?” Sungchan pointed out smugly.

“Ugh…” You groaned, covering your face with your hands.

“Y/N, they’ve already seen you. Here, I’ll walk you out. Will that help?” He offered, pulling on a shirt and his leather jacket.

“Fine, I’m gonna be late if I stay any longer.”

He held a hand out to you, and you placed yours in it for him to pull you to your feet. “Let’s go.”

The chatter that had started up again in your absence died down as soon as the bedroom door opened. Sure enough, the other three members of Roses for Eyes were sprawled out across the living room exactly where you’d left them. Shotaro was sideways in an armchair, Switch in hand as his thumbs moved over the controls quickly. Eunseok was sleepily eating a bowl of cereal on the couch, while Wonbin didn’t actually look awake, slumped against Eunseok’s shoulder with his eyes closed.

“Morning, guys,” Sungchan nodded to them as you walked by, still ushering you to the door.

Eunseok wordlessly held his hand out palm-up towards the armchair, and you saw Shotaro smack a few bills down into it.

At the front door, you were just ready to leave. Patting Sungchan’s arm, you gave him a nod and hushed, “Bye.”

Turning to grab the door handle, you heard Sungchan’s voice, nowhere near the whisper yours was.

“Baby, you almost forgot—” Sungchan stopped you, grabbing your hand and spinning you back around.

The sudden pet name made your skin burn. “What is it, Sungchan? My phone?” You started patting your pockets.

He took off the leather jacket that he just put on, putting it squarely on your shoulders. “Oh, and—” He cradled your face with two hands, kissing you.

It was short, sweet, and made your knees feel like jelly. When he’d pulled away, still holding your face, you whispered in the small space between you, “I’m going to be late.”

“Have a good day at work.” He smiled, letting you go and opening the door for you.

With a sigh, Eunseok gave the money back to Shotaro.

You weren’t late that morning, thankfully, but your mind was still in the stratosphere as you bustled around the breakroom making yourself coffee. You’d left Sungchan’s jacket hanging off the back of your chair; it wasn’t exactly in dress code for your office.

“Morning, Y/N,” Renjun said through a yawn, shuffling into the breakroom as well. He paused as he seemed to be taking in your clothes. “Am I crazy or did you wear that yesterday?”

“The only thing worse than an outfit repeater is an outfit remember-er,” you jested back.

“No, I mean like…” He got closer, rubbing his eyes as he peered at your blouse. “You didn’t wash them. They’re all wrinkled and—You got laid.”

“Or I need to do laundry.”

He pointed to your neck. “Hickey.”

“Damn, you caught me breaking my undying vow of chastity—oh wait,” you retorted sarcastically.

He held his hands up. “Hey, no slut-shaming here. Love that for you. One question?”

“What?”

“Was it drummer guy?”

You looked around the breakroom as you stirred sugar into your coffee. “…Yes.”

Renjun chuckled and grabbed a coffee mug. “Something new every day…”

“Why can’t you just get the food delivered?” You complained, pulling Sungchan’s blankets tighter around you as the bed grew cold without him in there with you.

He hopped on one foot as he pulled a shoe on. “Because the delivery charge is as much as the food is, baby. And it’s just around the block.”

You huffed dramatically, watching him start searching the sheets for his phone. He secured it in his hand victoriously, tucking it in his back pocket.

“You could come with me, you know,” he pointed out, mischievous hands already reaching for the covers and pulling them down, revealing your bare legs to the cold air conditioning. “But you’d have to put pants on.”

You yanked the blankets back over you. “I’ll wait.”

He snickered, leaning down to press his lips to yours. “Be back in a few.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you sighed, kissing him again.

He dropped one more peck to your forehead before standing up straight and heading out, shutting his door behind him. You snuggled back under the covers, pulling the blanket up over your shoulders as you tried to enjoy the fleeting warmth left over as you scrolled on your phone. Sungchan had only been gone for a few minutes when you heard the front door open again. You perked up with interest. He wasn’t kidding when he said he’d be back soon. Then there were a couple light knocks on the bedroom door. Not Sungchan. One of his bandmates must have come home.

You scrambled to throw the sheets off you and grab a pair of your shorts from Sungchan’s floor, putting your legs through them as you stumbled towards the door. Opening it just enough to peer out, you saw Wonbin on the other side, a plastic grocery bag in his hand. He didn’t seem surprised to see you at all.

“…Hi?” You greeted him hesitantly. You had been seeing Sungchan for a couple weeks now, and had caught glimpses of his roommates around his apartment, but had yet to say much more than the occasional ‘morning’ or ‘night’ or ‘hey’ in passing.

Wonbin held up the plastic bag. “Can you help me dye my hair?”

“Oh, uh, sure.” You looked down at what you were wearing, one of Sungchan’s black t-shirts. “What color? Should I change? Like, is it bleach?”

“Black. That’s fine.” He turned around, walking back down the hall.

You followed him as he opened another one of the doors, this one leading to a bathroom. As he prepped the dye, you read the pamphlet of instructions carefully.

“I’ll do the mixing,” he interrupted your deep focus. “I just can’t see the back of my head.”

“Oh. Okay.” You set the directions down on the counter next to the bottles. “I’ve never done this before… Don’t want to ruin your hair.”

He shrugged, handing you a pair of gloves. “If you miss a spot, we’ll just do it again.”

After Wonbin mixed up the dye, he sat on the edge of the tub for you to stand over him and start applying it to his hair. As you worked the dark dye into his blonde hair, you watched his soft waves straighten out.

“I liked the blonde curls,” you commented, moving onto the next section.

“Me too.” He flicked through his music library on his phone. “Time for something new, you know?”

“Yeah, I get that,” you smiled to yourself, adding more dye.

“What music do you like?”

“Oh, put on whatever you want. I’m trying to broaden my horizons.”

He wordlessly selected a song, a soft guitar melody coming through the speakers. It was so different from the music that you’d heard them perform, your hands slowed as you listened thoughtfully.

“Is that why you’re dating Sungchan?” Wonbin’s question caught you off-guard.

“What?” You parted his hair, double-checking that you had gotten every bit of blonde in that section.

“You’re broadening your horizons.” He picked at his nail polish that was already chipped. “Is that why you’re dating Sungchan?”

“Something like that.” Satisfied that you had fully saturated that area, you went to the next one. “I also just like him.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Why? Because we’re so different?”

“No, because he’s lame.”

You laughed right as you had started squeezing more dye out, missing his head as the liquid dripped right down the back of his neck instead. Wonbin hissed in surprise, shoulders jumping.

“Oh! Sorry!” You were still laughing as you grabbed the end of the towel that was around his shoulders, wiping at the stray hair dye.

Shotaro came home soon after that, joining the two of you in the bathroom, hopping up on the bathroom counter to watch you apply the hair dye. He showed off his new nose ring that he just got, and tsked when he saw Wonbin’s chipped nail polish.

“We’re gonna have to redo that, Wonbin,” the frontman shook his head. “After Y/N’s done with your hair.”

“Once it’s applied, it’s got to sit for thirty minutes,” you recalled the instructions. “Will that be long enough?”

“Plenty.”

You were a little more than halfway done with Wonbin’s hair when Sungchan finally got back.

“Wonbin? Taro? You guys here?” He called out into the apartment. “Y/N’s here too by the—”

He’d poked his head into the bathroom then, brown paper bag of food in hand. You gave him a wave with your hair dye-covered, gloved hand.

“Hi, Sungchan,” you smiled. “That was more than a few minutes.”

“Clearly,” he gestured to the scene in front of him. “I leave you for like twelve minutes and my bandmates adopt you.”

“We can eat once I finish applying Wonbin’s hair dye.”

“Sure.”

“What’d you get?” Shotaro leaned over towards the bag with interest.

“Only four extra crab rangoons. Fight over them however you want.” Sungchan pulled out a smaller bag from within the takeout bag.

Wonbin and Shotaro locked eyes.

“None for Eunseok?” Shotaro proposed.

Wonbin nodded minutely, as much as he could with some of his hair still in your hands. The front door slammed closed then, and they both groaned.

“I smell chemicals!” Eunseok yelled out. “What is it this time, Wonbin? Purple? Red? Both?”

The bassist appeared in the doorway behind Sungchan, peeking over his shoulder at everyone. “Oh hey, Y/N.”

“Hi, Eunseok.” You nodded to him, applying more dye.

“Shotaro, are those crab rangoons you’re hiding behind your back?”

A random Sunday afternoon found you at Sungchan’s apartment, as you seemed to be most days now. If you weren’t at work, at one of his gigs, or with your own friends, it was a safe bet that you could be found there.

He opened the door for you, pecking your cheek in greeting, “Hi, baby.”

“I know what we’re doing today,” you blurted out, before you could lose your nerve. “My something new.”

He tilted his head curiously. “And? What is it?”

You took a deep breath. “I’m going to get my ears pierced. Second lobe piercings, I already have the first done. I’ve been wanting to do it for like forever, but I just… haven’t. It’s allowed at my work, I checked the employee handbook, and asked someone from HR on Friday to be extra sure.”

Sungchan beamed at you. “Hell yeah. We can use Shotaro’s piercer, unless you’ve already looked someone up?”

“Whoever Shotaro goes to will be fine.”

Wonbin was taking a nap on the couch in the afternoon sunlight, and you walked past him to get to the hall where Shotaro and Eunseok’s rooms were. Shotaro’s door was ajar already, and Sungchan pushed it open the rest of the way. The frontman was laid out on his bed upside down, his feet kicked up on the wall as he lazily plucked out a melody on an acoustic guitar. Eunseok was in there too, scrawling away at a notebook at the guitarist’s desk.

“Who do you go to for your piercings?” Sungchan didn’t give either of them so much as a hello.

Shotaro craned his neck to look over at the two of you. “Huh? Oh, uh, Sid, at Black Cat in downtown. Why? What are you getting?”

“Not for me,” Sungchan informed him happily, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

Eunseok’s head snapped up from where he had been focused on his notebook, and Shotaro set his instrument aside to roll over and fully face you.

“Y/N?!” Shotaro’s jaw dropped in delight. “What are you getting?”

“Ah, just my second lobes…” you muttered self-consciously, hands instinctively feeling at the jewelry that you already had in your existing piercings. You pushed further into Sungchan’s side to hide your face from them, especially when the bassist muttered a ‘woah’ at this revelation.

“Sid taking walk-ins today?” Sungchan asked.

“She should be. You know what? I’ll call her right now.” Shotaro eagerly brought out his phone.

After he confirmed that Sid was, in fact, taking walk-ins, Sungchan went to get changed as Eunseok and Shotaro put shoes on as well, ushering you towards the front door. All the commotion woke Wonbin up, as he sleepily lifted his head up and rubbed one of his eyes, watching the four of you.

“Where are you guys going?” Wonbin squinted against the sun.

“Y/N’s getting pierced!” Shotaro announced brightly.

“I’m coming.”

At Black Cat, which you learned was a tattoo and piercing shop, you met with Sid, a young woman who was no older than you, and told her what you wanted. She nodded, looking at your ears for just a second.

“Easy. How old were you when you got the first ones done?” She asked, pulling out a tray of jewelry from under the counter she was standing behind.

“Thirteen maybe? I know it was done with one of those piercing guns…” You admitted sheepishly.

“We don’t use those here.” She shook her head. “Injures the tissue too much. I’ll be using a needle, should take like half a second on each side. I’ll explain everything back at the station where I can show you all the tools.”

You nodded. “Okay.”

“I’ll give you a minute to pick your jewelry while I prep the station.” With that, she walked towards the back of the shop.

Everyone huddled around while you browsed through the options, seeming to have their own input. You finally settled on a pair of studs with small diamonds in them, not too outlandish; you’d be able to easily match them with the rest of your jewelry and any outfits you wore to work easily while the piercings healed.

“You nervous?” Sungchan murmured, rubbing your back as Shotaro and Wonbin wandered over towards the other end of the clear case of jewelry, looking at industrial piercings. Eunseok flipped through a book of flash tattoo options.

You shook your head. “No. Excited.”

“So you’re not gonna need to hold my hand?”

“I didn’t say that…”

As Sid walked back over, the others crowded around you excitedly again.

“Do you all really need to be here? It’s not that big of a deal…” You muttered, a bit embarrassed at how hyped they were over you just getting a couple ear piercings.

“I’m with Y/N on this one. Only you can come back.” She pointed at Sungchan. “The rest of you will have to wait up front.”

Sitting on the padded chair at Sid’s station, she walked you through each step and the tools she’d be using first, then marked where the piercings would go on your ears.

“Check the placement.” She handed you a handheld mirror.

You appraised them, then looked up at Sungchan. “What do you think? Even?”

“Sit up straight. And straighten out your shoulders, did you know you slouch?” He teased, grabbing your shoulders and straightening them out for you.

You glared up at him, but fixed your posture nevertheless.

“They look good, baby,” he approved, squeezing your arm.

Sungchan stood off to your side, holding your hand as Sid got ready on the on the first ear.

“Alright. One, two—” At the pinch, you squeezed Sungchan’s hand tighter, face screwing up in surprise.

She moved to the other side. “Next. One, two—” Pinch. “All done.”

“Wooh!” The other three cheered from up front, pumping their fists and jumping up and down.

“Fuck yeah, Y/N!” Eunseok yelled out.

“Baby’s first body mod!” Shotaro pretended to wipe a tear from under his eye. “They grow up so fast…”

“So pretty, baby,” Sungchan kissed your cheek, a wide grin on his face when he pulled back. He wiped at the single actual tear that had spilled over from your own eye. “So proud of you.”

Your face hurt from how much you were smiling, more than your ears did.

“Y/N!” Jaemin stood up from the table as soon as he saw you, pulling you in for a hug. The two of you were meeting up on your respective lunch breaks at a café equidistant from your workplaces.

“Hi Jaem—Ow!” You hissed as his head bumped into your ear.

“What? What’s wrong?” He pulled back, clearly worried.

“It’s nothing, sorry.” You cradled the wounded ear, giving him a reassuring smile. “I finally got my second lobes done the other day and they’re still tender.”

“Let me see!”

You tucked your hair behind your ears to show off the small diamonds. “Just some studs…”

“Cool. They look good.” He was still smiling as the two of you sat down. “What made you want to do that?”

“I’ve been talking about it for a while.”

“Yeah, I know. What made you finally get them?”

“Something spontaneous or new every day, remember?”

“Well, I’m happy you finally did it. Seems your little quarter life crisis is actually working, huh?”

“Sungchan’s been helping me,” you acknowledged, watching his face carefully.

His eyebrows lifted slightly. “The drummer guy?”

“Yeah, I’ve been seeing him...” You sat forward, lacing your hands together in front of you on the table. “Speaking of—Dinner tomorrow, I figured I could bring him? You guys could all meet?”

Jaemin rubbed the back of his neck, tone turning remorseful. “Damn, Y/N, I wish you’d told me sooner. I already made the reservation for five people.”

“You can’t call back and change it to six?”

“Limited space.”

“There’s not a lot of five-person tables. Wouldn’t they be putting us at one that seats six anyway?”

“If I change it, we’ll be bumped to the bottom of the list again.”

“Oh. That’s alright, another time,” you acquiesced as your waiter came over, handing you menus.

“Another time,” your friend agreed.

You were in the ‘green room’ of Anton’s basement, which was actually the laundry alcove that had a few chairs set up for the acts to sit and wait before they went on. All of Roses for Eyes were back there, chatting as the time for their set to start got closer.

“You know what I’m craving?” Sungchan hummed in your ear.

“What is that?” You turned to look at him out of the corner of your vision from your current position on his lap.

“Fries from that place where your sturdy friend works.”

“He has a name,” you laughed, pinching his forearm. “Do you want to go get some after this? They’re open late.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

“After the day I had at work, I’ve earned a milkshake,” you sighed, leaning back against him.

Sungchan wrapped his arms around your waist, and you could hear the frown in his voice as he asked, “What happened, baby?”

“You’re about to go on, I’ll tell you later,” you promised. “Just my boss—”

“Yo! Roses!” Anton poked his head into the room just then. “Two minutes! Let’s go!”

You got up from Sungchan’s lap as the others started grabbing their instruments. “I should go grab a spot.”

“Okay…” He cupped your cheek to bring your mouth to his. “See you in a minute, baby.”

“See you.”

You picked your way through the crowd until you found a group of familiar faces: Anton, and two more regulars and friends of Roses for Eyes, Sohee and Seunghan. When the band still hadn’t come out after a few minutes, you got on your tiptoes to look over the crowd towards the green room.

“Wonder what’s keeping them?” You mused, dropping back onto flat feet again.

“Oh, Jay and Hayoung popped in there right after you left,” Anton explained. “Said they wanted to talk to them.”

“I thought they already left,” Seunghan commented.

“No, their tour starts in a couple weeks, I think,” Sohee explained. “Or at least, the tickets I have aren’t until next month.”

“Is that for the Venue:Hell show?”

“Yeah, are you going?”

“Waiting to get paid then I’ll buy my ticket.”

“Anton and I have an extra,” Sohee offered. “He was going to bring that girl he was seeing, but we all know how that worked out.”

“No need to rub it in my face,” Anton grumbled as the other two simultaneously snickered and tried to comfort him. He then turned to you. “Where’d Sungchan find you, anyway?”

“Oh, uh, I got lost and asked him for directions at the bookstore he works at,” you answered, knowing that wasn’t going to help your friend very much.

“You’re useless to me.”

You laughed and patted his back. “I’m sorry, Anton. Maybe instead of trying to find someone the same way Sungchan and I met, you should just try meeting different people. Sungchan could tell that I wasn’t into this kind of stuff at all when we met, and still tried anyway.”

“Alright, got any pantsuit-wearing friends you can set me up with?”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

It was then that Roses for Eyes finally started walking out, Sungchan at the front. They seemed to be even more energetic than usual during their set, and you could feel it radiate out through the whole room. You couldn’t stop jumping, dancing, and singing along to the songs that you had finally learned the lyrics to.

When they were done, Shotaro gave their usual thank-you and goodbye before leaving. By the time the next act was starting their first song, Roses for Eyes had joined the rest of you in the crowd.

“You guys did so good!” You praised them, squeezing Shotaro’s forearm as you wrapped your other arm around Sungchan’s waist. “Like, I think that was like the best set I’ve ever seen!”

“Thanks, baby,” Sungchan laughed breathlessly, kissing your temple and pulling you even closer with an arm around your shoulders. “You looked like you were having a good time.”

“She’s right, you guys had a lot of energy up there,” Seunghan complimented them as well.

“What did Hayoung and Jay want, by the way?” Anton asked. “They kept you guys for a while.”

The band exchanged uncertain looks, Eunseok, Wonbin, and Shotaro looking to Sungchan as if waiting for his cue.

He shrugged and squeezed your shoulder. “Just dropping by before they go on tour, you know?”

The rest of Roses for Eyes declined accompanying you and Sungchan for your midnight snack, so it was just the two of you squished into the same side of a booth, Sungchan taking sips from your milkshake as you stole fries from his plate.

“Tell me about work,” he prompted you, nudging your leg with his.

“Oh, God, it was just… long,” you groaned, dropping your head into your hands. “Felt like it would never end. My boss put off starting his part of this project until literally the day before our deadline to send it to the VP, which meant I had to rush to finalize everything. Meanwhile, he was breathing down my neck the whole time about the deadline! Like! Dude, I fucking know! We wouldn’t be cutting it so close if he had done his part earlier!”

“That’s really inconsiderate.” Sungchan frowned, rubbing your back. “I’m sorry, baby, that sounds really stressful.”

“But we got it submitted, so that’s all that matters, I guess,” you sighed. “You were right, Sungchan. I hate my job.”

His hand stilled on your back, just resting there as you sat in the wake of your admission.

“You remember my friends from the food truck?” He asked, abruptly changing topics.

“Yeah, Jay and Hayoung.”

“Well, we actually got an offer to open for their band on tour,” he told you, voice pitching up with excitement. That must’ve been what they were discussing before their set tonight. “It’ll be for a couple months.”

“Oh… congrats. I know this is big for you guys. Have fun.” You smiled, trying to hide the sudden emptiness inside you as you tried to imagine what your days would look like without Sungchan or the rest of his bandmates for two whole months. “When do you leave?”

“Next Saturday. Their original opener dropped out, it was last-minute.”

“Oh. I’ll see you when you get back, then.” You then paused, your mind suddenly changing directions and racing with other thoughts of why he might want to be telling you this. He was a drummer in a band going on their first tour, maybe he’d want the full rockstar experience. “Unless this was something else…”

His eyes widened as he shook his head fervently. “I’m not—I mean, I won’t ask you to wait for me if you want to get on with your life while I’m gone, but I would wait for you.”

“Why not?” You furrowed your brow thoughtfully.

“What?”

“Why wouldn’t you ask me to wait for you? You want me to ask you to wait, but you won’t ask me.”

“Because I’m about to ask you for something even bigger than to wait two months for me to come back.” He grabbed your hand, holding it tight.

“What…?”

“Come with me.”

“What?!” You blinked, for a moment unsure that you had even heard him right.

“On tour. Come with me,” he repeated, as sincere, eager, and genuine as he was in everything.

You immediately stammered out, “Sungchan, I’d have to quit my job—”

“And then when we get back, you can find one that you actually like.”

“If I can even get one.”

“This is exactly what you’ve been trying to do, Y/N. Something new every day.” He was sandwiching your hand between both of his now. “Please, just think about it?”

“Alright, what are you moping about?” Renjun asked, pushing an already-opened beer into your hand as he walked by.

The five of you were over at Jeno and Jaemin’s place for a movie, pizza, and beer night, and the first movie hadn’t even been started yet. As usual, you were an open book to your friends.

“Sungchan’s band is going on tour. For two months,” you told them glumly before bringing the bottle to your lips. “They leave Saturday.”

“They have enough fans to do that?” Donghyuck snorted, picking up a slice of pizza.

“They’re opening for another band.”

“Aw, I’m sorry it didn’t work out, Y/N,” Jaemin went to comfort you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

You tapped a fingernail against the glass bottle in your hands. “He asked me to go with him.”

“Does he think you can just quit your job for two months and come back and your boss will rehire you?” Renjun retorted. “This guy lives another world, sounds like you dodged a bullet.”

“You’re considering it.” Donghyuck pointed at you knowingly. “If you weren’t, you wouldn’t have brought up that he asked you until after he was long gone.”

You were quiet, looking down at your slice of pizza.

“Are you?” Jeno asked.

“I mean, I’ve been trying to do something different every day—”

“Woahwoahwoah! Seriously?!” Renjun cut you off, waving his hands wildly.

“I have enough in my savings to cover my rent and stuff while I’m gone, plus a few months after I get back while I look for a new job—”

“Holy shit you’re like, serious about this,” Jeno breathed out, blinking in surprise.

Jaemin took over, “When we joked about you having a quarter life crisis, we didn’t mean for you to actually do something like quit your job and go run off to join your punk boyfriend that you barely know on his dirtbag boyband’s tour for months.”

“We kind of figured you seeing this guy was already pushing your limits…” Renjun added.

“Gee, thanks.” You rolled your eyes. “You thought I was—What? Getting it out of my system? Then I’d settle down with a guy who’s as boring as I am?”

“When you phrase it like that—”

“You guys don’t even know Sungchan.” You cut Jaemin off, getting to your feet to face them all as your skin pricked with anger.

“Do you? You’ve been seeing him for like a month.” Jaemin gestured to you pointedly.

“Three. But thanks for proving my point so well,” you snapped. “You haven’t even tried to get to know him! You don’t like his music, fine, I wouldn’t expect you to go back to a show. But you haven’t invited him anywhere and you somehow always have an excuse when I invite you guys to something with him. None of you have even really met him. Not even Jeno from that one time, so don’t try to start that.”

They all seemed to be at a loss for words, looking at each other as if waiting for someone else to say the right thing.

“Y/N, come on…” Jaemin tried again, but trailed off at your furious glare.

“I’m going,” you declared, grabbing your phone from the coffee table. “Unless any of you plan on getting your heads out of your asses in the next five seconds.”

They were quiet again, and you took that as your answer, storming out of the apartment.

“Oh hey.” Eunseok’s face held mild surprise when he opened the door for you. “Sungchan said you weren’t coming over today.”

“Is he here?” You were still agitated from what just happened with your friends.

“In his room.” The bassist stepped back to let you in.

You passed by Wonbin and Shotaro in the living room, a game paused on their TV. They gave you greetings as you walked by, and you tossed a hello back over your shoulder. Sungchan’s door opened before you even got to it, confusion on his features when he saw you there.

“Hey, I thought I heard your voice.” He watched you as you stomped past him into his room. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, baby, but I thought you were hanging out with your friends tonight. What are you doing here?”

“I’m pissed at them.”

“What happened?” He sat down on his bed as you paced angrily in front of him.

“I was trying to tell them about the tour.” You gestured between the two of you. “You know, bouncing ideas off them or whatever. My mind was pretty much made up, I just needed to talk it through. And they couldn’t even be happy for you, or actually listen to me! They just called you a dirtbag and patronized me like a dumb child. Apparently, they’ve just been waiting for me to dump you and settle down with some boring guy that’s better for someone boring like me! They’ve been refusing to meet you, I mean, I can’t believe they think they somehow know anything about if you’re good for me or not.”

Sungchan had been listening patiently while you ranted, and when it seemed like you had come to a stopping point, he asked, “They really said all that?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“Pretty much?” He repeated knowingly.

You put your hands on your hips. “They called you guys a dirtbag boyband. And said I was ‘pushing my limits’ by seeing you.”

“‘Dirtbag boyband,’” Sungchan repeated with a laugh. “Yeah, I like that.”

“Of course you think it’s funny.”

“That part? Yeah, I do,” he snickered, holding a hand out towards you. When you had reluctantly put yours in it, he pulled you closer, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. “The part where they’re being super judgmental and treating you like you can’t make your own decisions? No, I don’t think that’s funny.”

You took a deep breath, already beginning to calm down a little as he continued working soothing circles into your skin.

“You said your mind was made up? Mostly?” Sungchan asked tentatively, eyes focused on your intertwined hands.

“I want to go with you,” you said, watching his head snap up to look at you, his face hopeful. “On the tour. I fucking hate my job and I love you.”

Sungchan’s eyes went wide as he gazed up at you. Then he was yanking you down into his arms, and you let out an embarrassing ‘eep!’ as you threw your arms around his shoulders, trying to find some stability in your sudden change in orientation. He held you tightly, burying his face in your neck. You could feel his smile against your skin.

“I love you too,” he murmured, pulling back to cup your cheek. He was grinning. “I love you.”

Your skin got warmer as you realized exactly what you’d said, but you couldn’t take it back now. You’d said it, you meant it, it was true, and you wanted to say it again.

“I love you.” You repeated, feeling a smile creep across your face.

Sungchan leaned up to kiss you, cradling the back of your head as he pressed his lips to yours. You kissed him back, tangling your fingers in his hair as you pressed even closer to him.

Your phone started buzzing relentlessly in your back pocket then, and you let out an annoyed groan into Sungchan’s mouth. You broke apart just enough to pull out your phone and look at the screen, fully intending on declining the call. Then you saw the caller ID and paused.

“Who is it?” Sungchan asked, kissing along your jaw.

“Jeno.” You continued staring at the screen.

He drew back. “You should answer it.”

“Sungchan—”

“Just see what he wants. Might be important.”

You sighed, and hit the accept button. “What?”

“You picked up! Great!” Jeno sounded genuinely shocked. “Uhm, will you come back?”

“So you guys can continue belittling my life choices? Pass.”

“No, no, so we can all talk. Actually talk this time.”

You bit the inside of your cheek as you sized up your options: staying here with Sungchan, or going back to that unpleasant atmosphere. Seemed like a pretty obvious choice to you.

“Jaemin will apologize,” Jeno added. “He wants to apologize, uh, to you.”

“Why didn’t he call me then?” You asked dryly.

“He didn’t think you’d pick up if he called.”

“I wasn’t going to pick up your call either,” you informed him. “Sungchan said I should hear you out.”

“Oh. You’re with him right now.”

“I’ll come back,” you stated. “But I’m bringing Sungchan.”

You would be feeling awkward right now if you weren’t so pissed off. As soon as Jaemin had opened the door and you saw his face, you just got pissed off all over again. The only thing keeping you here and mostly civil was Sungchan.

“This is Renjun, Jeno, Donghyuck, and Jaemin,” you blandly pointed out all your friends for Sungchan’s sake.

“Hi, Sungchan, dirtbag boyfriend,” Sungchan introduced himself with a broad smile, making the first move to shake all their hands.

Jaemin looked at you incredulously. “Y/N, you told him—”

“They’re your words, Jaemin. Now eat. them.” You said through gritted teeth, arms crossed over your chest firmly.

“I didn’t call you a dirtbag,” Jaemin tried to explain himself to Sungchan.

“Just his band,” Renjun pointed out helpfully.

“I thought it was funny,” Sungchan told him with a chuckle, stepping back to wrap an arm around your shoulders. “Y/N, not so much.”

“Well, she has no sense of humor, as I’m sure you know,” Donghyuck teased.

You rolled your eyes. “I didn’t introduce you guys for you to all pick on me.”

“I think you’ve got a great sense of humor, baby,” your boyfriend reassured you, squeezing your arm.

“So do you have like, a tour bus or something?” Jaemin asked.

“We’ve got a van,” Sungchan told them proudly. “We won’t be sleeping in it or anything, we’ll get hotels.”

“How many tattoos do you have?” Donghyuck flopped back into his armchair.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Jaemin rounded on him.

He shrugged. “Nothing. Just curious.”

“I’ve lost count,” Sungchan answered candidly.

“Cool.”

“Y/N mentioned you worked at a bookstore and a tea shop as well,” Jeno said. “Are they cool with you uh, going so suddenly?”

“I’m a part-timer. My bosses at both places knew what I actually wanted to do when I started,” he explained. “If they still have a spot for me when we get back, that’d be nice, but I don’t expect it.”

“So, are you going to be quitting tomorrow, Y/N?” Renjun’s voice held no judgment, just curiosity.

You nodded. “Yeah. I fucking hate that place.”

“Good. I could tell.”

“When do you guys leave? This week?” Jeno asked.

“Saturday,” Sungchan confirmed. “We’ll be popping back over here in a few weeks for a show at Venue:Hell, though.”

“Are there tickets… left?” Jaemin rubbed the back of his neck. “To the show in town?”

“You want to go?” You blurted out, a little dumbfounded.

“Totally, man.” Sungchan was absolutely beaming. “I’ll get you guys some.”

Donghyuck raised his beer to him before tipping it back. “Hell yeah.”

Later that night, tucked under Sungchan’s covers and curled up in his arms, your fingertips traced the lines of his tattoos as you were slowly lulled closer and closer to sleep.

“Thank you, Sungchan,” you said aloud into the darkness.

“Mm? For what, baby?” He questioned sleepily, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder.

“For not giving up on me. Even if you were just tagging along for the ride at the beginning, I would’ve just given up on my stupid little idea to cure my quarter life crisis if I didn’t have someone else doing it with me,” you admitted.

“Thank you for not telling me to fuck off when you had every right to,” he chuckled, tangling his legs with yours. “I love you, baby.”

You turned your head to kiss his hair. “I love you too, Sungchan.”

⏯ sequel

⤷ masterlist

[wordy-little-witch]

In honor of my newest fixation, have some TSAMS incorrect quotes -

Generic Edition

Lunar: Uh, I think I got your lunch. *Holds up a note that reads: ‘I am very proud of you. Love, Sun’*

Solar: Oh yeah. I didn’t think this was for me. *Holds up a note that reads: ‘Be good. For the love of God, Please be good.’*

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Judge: Does the defendant have any special requests?

Sun: Death penalty.

Solar, from the gallery: Sun, it’s just a parking ticket.

Sun, whispering into the mic: Please kill me.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Moon: I love sarcasm! It’s like punching people in the face, but with words!

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Lunar: *Hugs Earth from behind*

Lunar: *Tucks Earth's hair behind their ear*

Lunar, whispering: Eat all the frosted animal crackers again and they'll never find your body.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Lunar: Change is inedible.

Solar: Don’t you mean inevitable?

Lunar, spitting out a bunch of pennies: No, I really didn’t.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Lunar: Which country has the most birds?

Lunar: Portu-geese!

Earth: That's a language.

Lunar: Portu-gull?

Earth: Good recovery.

Moon: I think you mean good re-dovery.

Sun: TURKEY. HOW DID YOU MISS TURKEY?

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Sun: *accidentally eats something too spicy so their eyes start to water*

Earth: Sun, look at me. It's okay. I would die for you. I love you so much. You're the best person I know.

Sun: I'm not crying?

Earth, hugging Sun's head: Shush baby, it's okay. little sister is here and I love you with my whole heart.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Sun: Caffeine no longer keeps me awake while I work, so instead I have Moon periodically send me texts saying ‘we need to talk.’

Sun: It gives me the right amount of adrenaline and fear I need to keep going.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Moon: Everyone has a toxic trait. Except Earth, they’re perfect.

Earth: Wrong! My toxic trait is how badly I want to domesticate a raccoon and several geese.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Lunar: Well, well, well, if it isn’t the consequences of my actions.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Solar: apartment "complex"? Really? I find it quite simple.

Sun, about to McLose it: ya know what else is simple? Me simply shoving my foot up your-

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Moon: *watching the squad's shenanigans with concern* Do you feel like this has gotten out of hand?

Solar: I don't know. Feels normal enough for a group that's on 911's blocked callers list.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Earth: people seem to be under the impression that I am the mom friend. I am not. If anything, I am the sister friend. The mom friend is Sun, but people aren't ready for that conversation yet.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Lunar: What is love?

Solar: An emotional minefield.

Moon: A neurochemical reaction.

Earth: Baby don't hurt me.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Moon: Look, Sun, it's the third time this week you had a mental breakdown and its Monday.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Sun: I’m genuinely surprised you haven’t gotten arrested, let alone gotten a felony yet.

Lunar: Nat 20 Charisma.

Sun: That is NOT how that works-

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Earth: Sun, can you help me? All of my clothes keep disappearing for some reason.

Sun, wearing a hoodie that's 5 times bigger than their size: Spooky.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Earth: So... what’s goin’ on?

Solar: You want the long version or the short version?

Earth, hesitantly: The short one, I guess?

Solar: Shit’s fucked.

Earth: Oh. Well, yeah, that’s definitely not an optimal situation.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Solar: Synonyms are weird because if you invite someone to your cottage in the forest, that just sounds nice and cozy. But if I invite you to my cabin in the woods you’re going to die.

Lunar: My favorite is explaining the difference between a butt dial and a booty call.

Earth: It’s called connotations.

Sun: Try this one on for size, “Forgive me, Father, I have sinned” vs “Sorry, Daddy, I’ve been naughty."

Moon: Great news! Language is now banned!

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Sun: Everything’s fine, I'm fine.

Earth: Sun, I know your relationship with the english language is strictly casual, but you- I- *deep inhale* ALLOW ME TO TELL YOU WHAT’S NOT FINE.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Sun: Solar is the bravest person I know. He can go into the Spirit Halloween without crying.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Moon: You were stabbed. Do you remember anything?

Sun: Only the ambulance ride to the hospital.

Solar: That wasn't an ambulance, we drove you.

Sun: But I heard a siren.

Lunar: That was Earth.

Earth: Sorry, I got nervous.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Sun: I'm hot, I’m tall, I'm gay, and I'm on my theatre kid arc.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Moon: I'm so tired of this life. I want to be a roomba. I want knives taped to me. And I want to be set loose.

Sun: ... you know what, mood, honestly

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Lunar: How many vampires do you think have been hit by a car backing up in a parking lot because the driver couldn’t see their reflection?

Moon: I’ve never considered it but you’re really shining light on what’s probably a very serious issue.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Moon: How do you want your coffee?

Sun: Black, like my soul.

Moon:

Moon: Sun, your soul is a latte.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

SolarSun Edition

Solar: So the other day I sent Sun out to get us some gas.

Solar: And instead of getting gas, they got us novelty cookie cutters.

Solar: Now everything we eat is shaped like a dinosaur.

Solar: …

Solar: I love them so much.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Earth: Why don’t you go talk to them?

Solar, sarcastically: Oh. Yeah, sure.

Earth: What? So you go tell Sun that he's cute, what’s the worst that could happen?

Solar: They could hear me.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Solar: *yawns*

Sun: Yeah, being that pretty must be tiring.

Solar: Then you must be exhuasted.

Moon: this is too sweet, I'm gonna hurl-

[waklman]

Delicate (Pt. 1)

summary: jake meets natasha's friend and gets his first taste of gentleness, but before he can chase the feeling, natasha blocks him off.

pairing: jake seresin x female reader.

warnings: negative self talk, cursing, mentions of drinking, sex, and nudity. this is a 18+ blog.

word count: 2.5k.

next part

“Fine. We don’t even have to kiss.” Natasha offers, forehead slumped against your knees.

Natasha lost all shame when she came to you minutes ago, pleading with you to play pretend girlfriend this weekend with her—In hopes that her WSO would make the first move on her, provoked by jealousy.

She has stooped so low-even to the point where she’s gotten down on both her knees in the middle of your living room, hoping her desperation translates.

“Who even said anything about that!” you shriek, covering your face from embarrassment–refusing to look at her.

“Would you please get off your knees Nat?” you ask, dragging your hands down your face–stressed by her proposition. 

Upon hearing your strained plea, Natasha defeatedly peels herself off the floor, ignoring the bruising pain in her knees. 

“Look, if Bob is as sweet as you say he is, I doubt he’d try to play homewrecker, Natasha,” you’re firm with your response. 

Natasha sighs, haphazardly throwing herself onto the couch, next to you. 

“You’re right,” she admits. 

“How about you try making a move?” You reach over, resting your hand atop her head out of habit.

“You think I haven’t tried? Every time I flirt with him, he looks like he wants to run in the opposite direction.” The brunette leans into your touch, allowing you to stroke the top of her head. 

“Maybe he’s not sure if you’re joking or not,” you turn your head to gauge her reaction, but Natsha is blankly staring at the floor. 

“I don’t know if I have it in me to say I like him so outright like that,” she cautiously confesses.

You’ve never seen Natasha so down on her luck before, her usual fiery attitude is nowhere to be seen, almost as if it never existed in the first place. You two have never found yourselves in a situation like this in the span of your friendship, it’s strange to say the least, and so you’re both lost on what to do.

Natasha takes a peak at your face, hearing you hum in contemplation. She takes in your expression as your mind begins to skim through possible solutions, eager to relieve your best friend from her problem. 

“I’ll come with you to the bar this weekend,” you start,

Natasha immediately straightens up, almost smacking you in the process.

“Only for emotional support, You’re gonna tell him you like him. And because I believe in you, I’ll be there to cheer you on,” you finish, resolutely pointing your finger at her.

“I fucking love you,” she leaps herself at you, attempting to hug you. 

“One day, he better love you enough that he’d go streaking for you,” you poke her side, smiling, reminding her of the time the two of you went streaking back in college—after you had just made up from a ridiculous argument. It was almost like a strange promise—that no matter what, you’d be willing to completely embarrass yourself for the other person. 

It would have been a waste if you two didn’t stay friends after running down butt naked on the busiest street of your town. After all–you almost got arrested for public indecency that day. 

“I hope you find someone who would go streaking for you too, besides me of course.” She gloats happily, arms squeezing around  you even tighter. 

Surprisingly enough, this is the first time you’re meeting Natasha’s team. The anxiety you felt leading up to this weekend is no longer a thought in your mind because everyone welcomed you with open arms, hugging and complimenting you as they introduced themselves. In a way, they’re all reflections of Natasha–reliable, kind, and self-assured, and you’re glad she’s surrounded by a good group of people. Though, you have yet to meet the last member of her team.

“Hey, where’s Hangman at, Coyote?” The tanned man you remember as Rooster, asks.

Coyote opens his mouth to speak, but shuts it again, not sure if he can say it.

“No.” Rooster exclaims, setting down his beer. 

“Yup.” Coyote nods, lips scrunched into a tight line. 

Before you could even turn to ask Natasha why everyone around the pool table looks distraught, there’s a shrieking sound by the entrance and it seems to be moving closer. 

“Jakey-pie, come on,” the person whines. 

Noticing everyone scattering around, trying to make themselves look busy at the sound of the voice, you look up—right in the direction that everyone is currently avoiding. 

Your eyes first land on the girl, she’s obviously young–somewhere in her mid twenties, and her choice of clothing is, well it’s definitely a choice. But—she’s strikingly beautiful, you really had no room to judge her. 

Natasha and Bob laugh beside you, watching as your eyes practically hang out of your skull upon seeing the girl inappropriately slobbering her lips over the neck of the blond man she’s clung to.

Your eyes frantically scatter to the man’s face, slightly disturbed by the girl’s very public display of affection. 

He has a sheepish smile on his face, but anyone with half a brain could pick up on the fact that there’s a twinge of discomfort in his expression. You can’t help but frown, wondering how often she does this to him. 

“Sorry I’m late guys. I had to pick up Stella.” The blond finally reaches the group, announcing an apology for his late arrival. 

A chorus of it’s okay and it’s fine are heard–but no one truly sounds like they’re okay with it at all. 

Jake’s nervous eyes scan over everyone, heart lurching at everyone’s dispirited reactions. But then he lands his sights on you.

His breath almost gets caught in his throat for a second. You’re the only one that’s not avoiding his gaze or sending him a dirty look–and your eyes are so kind. 

“Hey. I’m Jake or Hangman, I don’t believe we’ve met yet.” He forgets Stella’s arm is slung around his own, failing to free himself from her to shake your hand.

Jake prepares himself, expecting to see you judge him for letting the younger girl control his every move. Instead, you chose to smile at him, assuring him that it truly is okay. 

You don’t even falter under Stella’s harsh glare either, and a small part of Jake starts to believe his nonna’s rants on how love at first sight is very much plausible.

“Hi, I’m Natasha’s-”

“Friend who will be grabbing more drinks with me and Bob.” Natasha cuts you off, pulling you towards the bar. 

Baffled by her reaction, you turn to disapprovingly glare at her.

Behind you, Bob is smiling to himself—quietly observing your dynamic with the other pilot.

“That was rude,” you huff, leaning against the bar. 

“I was doing you a favor,” she scolds, nose pointed in the air.

Bob tries to come to the guy’s defense, moving to stand next to Natasha. “He’s not that bad.”

“You’re too sweet Bobby,” your best friend sighs.

You’re quickly distracted from Natasha’s previous behavior, slyly smiling to yourself because you notice that Bob’s ears are bright red at the small compliment. 

You’ve managed to slip away from Natasha and Bob not long ago, a strong craving for pizza–invoked by a drink or two, leads you towards the exit of the Hard Deck.

From seeing the glowing red exit sign, your feet move on their own towards it, like a moth to a flame. 

But to your dismay, someone goes flying against your back, sending you to land straight on the bar floor. 

Dusting off your legs, you manage to stand again–turning around to see the commotion behind you. 

“Ugh. Go away Jakey-pie,” the girl groans, after shoving Jake.

“Honey, you’re drunk, let me just take you home.” Jake pleads, exasperated, not even realizing he's knocked you to the ground.

“No. I’m gonna uber to another bar with my friends, this place is boring.” She protests, her heels clicking loudly against the floor as she stalks off.

Jake doesn’t even have it in him to chase after her, shoulders drooping as he watches her unapologetically slam into strangers until she dips from his sight.

“Do you always let twenty year olds walk all over you like that?” A softer voice fills his ears.

He cranes his neck to check behind him, and there you are.

You are calmer in comparison to Stella, and Jake feels your energy waft off on him–allowing him to relax in your presence. 

“Hey, Natasha’s friend,” he greets you, smiling as he extends his hand towards you–successfully this time.

You gladly shake his hand, noticing his grip is a little weak, which is odd for someone in his field. 

And though the younger girl is far gone, you see the discomfort from earlier still swimming in his eyes. He looked like he needed some cheering up, and what better way to cheer someone up but with pizza?

“Hi Jakey-pie, are you in the mood for pizza?” you ask, head tilted.

“Lead the way please,” he nods, with satisfied smile plastered on his face, at the thought of a hot slice of pizza.

You comically spin to face the exit again, a little spurred on by the idea of pizza and Jake's smile grows wider watching you stomp off, mimicking Stella for his entertainment.

And before he can process it, you're already half way across the bar. Jake’s unsure how you’re navigating around bodies so well, and he grows worried trying to keep track of you as you swiftly move around fellow navy men who shamelessly stare down to look at your backside.

Finally catching up to you, he hoovers closely behind to block off the view of your butt–grinning directly at a man who looks at him angrily.

“Pizza reveal…are you ready?” 

“So ready,” he nods, equally as eager as you.

Both of you turn to make sure the other has their hands placed on their respective boxes.

“1…2…3…Go.” 

You both rip open the top of your pizza boxes, closing your eyes to inhale the intoxicating swirl of tomato sauce, slightly burnt crust, and melted mozzarella. 

“Noo, Jakey-pie! You’re a pineapple on pizza kind of guy?” You pull your hand up to your face, covering your gaping mouth. 

“Says you, mushroom pizza girl,” he scoffs, looking into your pizza box.

You both stare at each other, pretending to be upset with one another until laughter erupts between you two. 

You’re laughing so hard, you snort–and Jake almost pees himself when he sees strangers glare at you for being so loud.

“Hey, so what’s the deal with that girlfriend of yours?” You ask, taking a bite of your slice.

“She’s not really my girl. I don’t know,” he sighs, joining you by taking a bite from his own pizza.

“You know, it’s really no good for you if you keep someone like that around,” you suddenly grow serious.

Truthfully, Jake wants to take your advice but he’s not sure if he can, because Stella is exactly the type of person he purposely keeps around.

She’s the kind of girl Jake feels worthy of–ones who stroke his ego and dick–and only listens to him talk about his feelings while they’re completely plastered, not remembering a thing he says by the time they sober up.

“What if that kind of person is the only thing I'm deserving of?” Jake doesn’t know if it’s the three beers or the dizzying San Francisco heat, but he lets his guard down without feeling an ounce of wariness. 

“Why don’t you see your worth, Jake?” You grimly set down your pizza to look up at him, hunger completely forgotten.

You look so concerned for him, and Jake doesn’t know how to process the strange feeling that starts to fill up his chest. How is that you–a stranger, care for him more than Stella has before? More than anyone has before?

Jake feels himself shrink in front of you, unsure if he’s deserving of being in your presence.

“If you heard what people said about me sweetheart,” Jake reaches to twist open his soda.

“You might agree that I’m not worth too much,” his body grows so weak, he struggles to get the cap open.

“Let me help you.” 

Jake stares up at you wide eyed, unsure if you’re talking about helping him see his worth—or helping him open his soda.

“I knew I’d find you here.” A voice furiously calls out from across the parking lot. 

Natasha’s commanding tone sends you snapping your heads in her direction, looking like two deers caught in headlights. 

She’s almost running towards you, with Bob struggling to keep up behind her.

“You–young lady, are coming home with me.” She grabs you from the slab of sidewalk you planted your butt on, you stumble to stand on your feet–carefully balancing your pizza box. 

“Wait. Let me get your-” Jake sputters.

“Hangman. See you Monday,” she cuts him off immediately, pairing it with a cold look.

“And Bobby, I’ll see you tomorrow.” She pecks Bob right on the mouth, causing your jaw to fall slack.

“What—wait-” It’s too late. She’s already leading you by the arm away from the two men.

Bob bites his lip, watching as you and Jake just sadly watch each other–worried you won’t ever get to finish your conversation.

Bagman:

Hey

Trace:

No. 

“Well..at least she responded '' Coyote says, peering over Jake’s shoulder, trying to ease his best friend’s disencourage state.

Bagman:

All I said was hey?

Trace:

That was already too much lol. 

Bagman:

What’s your friend's name…?

“Don’t put those dots dude, you sound creepy!” Coyote exclaims, trying to grab at the phone–but Jake already sent it. 

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Jake frustratedly yells back, unconsciously biting his nails. 

Trace:

Her name is Phoenix Lover.

Bagman:

Please? I’ll literally do anything. 

Natasha’s eyes almost burn, staring contemplatively at the bright screen. Hangman begging? That's new. Hangman begging her? That’s something rare. Biting down on her lip, Natasha types out her reply, thumb hovering over the send button, unsure. Fuck it.

Trace:

Meet me here next week at 3, and I’ll tell you.

Jake and Coyote stare blankly at the address Phoenix sends over.

“Why does she want to meet there? There’s gonna be tourists flooding that area by then.” Coyote ponders. 

“I don’t even care man, I’m showing up.” Jake swallows, typing out a thank you. 

Natasha shuts her phone off, slamming it against her beating heart. She stares up at the ceiling, her vision trying to adjust to the pitch black room.

Seconds later, her phone dings, signifying that Hangman already texted back, and she hurriedly lifts the device back up to her face.

Hangman:

Thank you so much.

See you Monday, goodnight Phoenix.

“Are you texting Bobby?” You tease, turning over in her bed.

“What the shit. I thought you were asleep.” Natasha flinches, almost dropping her phone. 

“I can’t sleep. I miss Jakey-pie,” you replicate Stella’s whine. 

And although you sound like you're joking, you're really not. Your mind has been whirling ever since you got back with Natasha, unable to ease the worried feeling that festered in your stomach since that conversation with Jake.

“But seriously though, are you texting him?” You change the topic, not wanting to make it more difficult for yourself to sleep.

“No, I’m making plans to watch someone go streaking next week,” she proudly brags. 

“What? Who? Can I come?” You shuffle closer to her in bed.

“No. Goodnight.” Natasha turns her back on you, hiding her smile from view.

thank you for reading, and as always-reblogs are greatly appreciated!

join my taglist here. or follow me on @waklman-library & turn on notifs there to be notified when i post!

taglist: @pono-pura-vidaa @teaminator @alana4610

not my gif! if anyone knows the creator please let me know!!

[water-to-drink]

Be a Gladiolus in a Field of Belladonnas pt4

(Summary): After your sudden disappearance from the face of Tevyat, some people take the time to discuss their next move

Part 1 Last Part Next Part

✧ Masterlist ✧

(Characters): Diluc, Kaeya, Zhongli, Nahida, Venti, abyss prince!Aether, traveler!Lumine, Paimon

(Warnings): Not proof read, characters might be ooc

(A/n): I didn’t think a lot of people would enjoy this little idea, but hey I love writing stories and I hope you guys enjoy the rest that I have planned out

∘◦ ✧ ◦∘ means flashback

─────────── ✧ ───────────

It’s been a few weeks after your detainment and escape things have changed at the Dawn Winery, the once cheery mood you brought was now replaced with one of bitterness

The entire household have refrained from bringing up any mention of you so to not upset anyone, especially the master of the house

He’s taken up to locking himself in his study, completely drowning himself in work. It’s gotten to the point where the servants would urge him to eat a proper dinner instead of the small meals he would request sparingly

It looked like today would be just like that until a servant Moco announced that Diluc had a visitor

“Hello Diluc.” Kaeya said as he waved while leaning on the doorframe

“Agghhhh! Leave, I’m in no mood to deal with you!” Diluc grunted

“Aww don’t be like that, is it so wrong to see how my dear brother is doing?” The blue haired hand said as he sauntered towards his brother’s desk

“If I entertain you for 5 minutes will you leave?”

“Make it 10, then I’ll leave.”

“Fine…”

“So how have you been doing?”

“Good, I suppose. The knights have came to my door multiple times but haven’t but haven’t arrested me yet.” Diluc explains as he leans back on his chair. “I figure I should thank you for that.”

“I’ve been trying to explain that you don’t pose a threat to anyone, but ever since the failed execution and the traveler’s betrayal everyone’s been really tense.” Kaeya leans in towards Diluc. “Apparently the Creator is going crazy just looking for them.”

“By ‘them’ I assume you mean Mentir? If you’re here to get any information on their whereabouts then I can’t help you.” Diluc crossed his arms. “But I would assume you know their location when you were the one who aided in their escape.”

The cocky smirk on Kaeya’s face still held on but a slight panic flashed in his eye

“Whatever do you mean, dear brother?”

“Don’t play dumb with me,” Diluc asserted as he got out of his seat and was eye to eye with his brother. “I know you helped Mentir along with someone else!”

Kaeya’s face fell flat and began to make his way towards the window

“Throwing accusations that severe, are dangerous Diluc,” Kaeya feigned as he threw the curtains, after drenching the study in darkness he walked towards the door. “with how things have been, one wrong comment could cost someone their reputation or worse their life. He continued as he opened the door and looked down the hallway to see if someone was listening in. Seeing no one, he closed the door and locked it from the inside

Kaeya walked back to his previous spot and looked Diluc with a serious expression that is rarely seen

“I remember we always used to try to listen in on dad’s conversations but never heard a sound, I’m pretty sure I could yell at the top of my lungs and no one would hear.” The captain commented

“What are you getting at?”

“I’m just letting you know my appreciation for the soundproofing of this room.”

“That has nothing to do with you abetting the escape of a criminal!”

“Isn’t referring to Mentir as a ‘criminal’ a bit too harsh, I would assume you would call them something a lot nicer considering you opened your home to them.”

Diluc harrowed his eyes at Kaeya, getting ready to summon is claymore if need be

“Think about it, why would you a social recluse, let a stranger into your home who you just met in the forest at night?” Kaeya said as his movements became increasingly more genuine, a complete contrast from his controlled and practiced movements he would do when interrogated people for information. “Unless, their was something about them that felt familiar to you, an aura they radiated that you experienced before…” Kaeya put his hands on the desk and leaned in towards the redhead on the other side. “Like when you were used as a vessel…”

“Are you implying that Mentir is the Creator?!” Diluc spat back, his body language getting more visibly tense

“I’m not implying, I’m downright saying it.”

“If you knew Mentir was the Creator? Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

“Their name is (y/n) and I thought you wouldn’t want any information from a ‘heathenistic Khaenri’ahn spy’ dear brother.”

“Is you dropping this bomb on me the reason why you’re here?”

“I’m here to ask if you know the whereabouts of their Grace.”

“I don’t know, as I said before I would assume you have some idea on their general whereabouts.”

“That was the plan, Lumine was supposed to contact me when she found a safe place for them.”

“I could report you to the knights for spouting such blasphemous claims and conspiring against this ‘faker’ as you so claim.”

“Hehe. I know you won’t do that, want to know why? Because I know you and your sense of justice wouldn’t let you live with you turning me in.” Kaeya explained as he got up and walked towards the door before stopping and turning to Diluc. “And most of all, you don’t want to get rid of the remaining family you have left. Because no matter what we have between us, we’ll always be brothers. Least that’s what I think.”

As Kaeya walked out the door Diluc was left alone in complete darkness and with his thoughts

A truly awful combination

─────────── ✧ ───────────

In the neighboring of Liyue, two archons walk through Tianqiu Valley. The oldest and youngest of the Seven walk side by side admiring the scenery the region has to offer

“Your nation is magnificent, Mora.”

“Thank you, Buer. I’ve formed this nation into what their Grace would’ve liked.”

“What was the Creator like, before they died?”

“They were an amazing person, they had a wisdom and philocaly that I haven’t seen in any other being.”

∘◦ ✧ ◦∘

“Your Grace! Yahoo!” A high pitched voice called out

You turn your head to see Barbatos waving towards you and Morax

“Barbatos! How are you?” You gave the god a bright smile that rivaled the brightest of stars

“Wonderful, thank you very much.”

Morax scoffed at the laidback nature the wind god would often have when addressing you, seeing the behavior as childish at best and sacrilegious at worst. But you gave a little chuckle showing no contempt

“I see you brought your lyre, do you have a song you want to play?” You asked

“Why yes, your Grace! I actually wrote a song just for you.” Barbatos spoke

The deity readied his lyre and became playing his tune with the upmost care and passion. His fingers pluck the strings with grace he rarely shows

Once the ballad ends the smaller god looked at you expectantly

“Barbatos, that was lovely!”

“I don’t know why you entertain such foolishness, your Grace.”

“Don’t be like that Morax. Everything on this planet is beautiful in its own way.” You held your hand up as a crystal fly began to land on a finger. “Even from the most vibrant gardens to the moss that grows on rocks.” The crystal fly fluttered its wings as it flew away.

“Everything has a right to exist how it wants to exist.” You said as you watched the creature flying further out of sight

∘◦ ✧ ◦∘

“The sadness in their eyes is something that will never leave me no matter how long I’ll live.” Zhongli ended

“Ohh…” Nahida said as she looked down. “They seem to be very different from that, person.”

“They truly are but there is another reason why I called for you.”

Zhongli extended his hand and a petal appeared out of thin air. The petal didn’t appear to resemble any of the fauna native to Teyvat, it was light gold color and looked to be it was just plucked from the flower

A bright light blinded Nahida, shielded her eyes from the intense brightness

“You can open your eyes, Buer.” Zhongli spoke

Following his instructions, Nahida opened her eyes and was greeted by the sight of a massive library. The shelves nearly reached the tall ceiling, all containing books of multiple formats, including hardcovers, scrolls, stone tablets, you name it

“This domain once belonged to our Grace, but fell into mine and your hands when they fell.” Zhongli explained as he ushered Nahida to follow him. “In your previous form, you helped collect manuscripts pertaining to the Creator.”

“This collection much be very extensive, it puts the library at the House of Daena to shame. I would love to read at least a percentage from here!”

“Thank you, Buer. Once this issue has been resolved you’ll be free to read anything from here.”

Nahida was a bit too excited to notice Zhongli stopped walking and bumped into him. She took a step back and saw what the two were standing in front of

A door with an unknown symbol on the front of it

“What’s behind this door?” The dendro archon asked

“I don’t know, we’ve tried to open it but to no avail. The door was here when I first came here. I was hoping if there’s anything in the Akademiya that would give us some insight on how to open the door.”

“I’ll see what I can find. I do hope that we can see what this door is hiding.”

─────────── ✧ ───────────

The months in the abyss changed you, the once scared outlander transformed into a resilient fighter, both physically and emotionally.

You mastered sword fighting thanks to the training you had with Lumine. Once getting little nicks every time you and the traveler exchange blows, now someone who can keep up with her

Along with that one could say you radiated the same level of command your doppelganger had, but the thing that separated you from them is your compassion

You treated everyone as your equal, never holding your authority over the heads of everyone else. You showed respect even to the hilichurls and mages, never dreamed of raising a hand to anyone who displeased you (as if anyone would ever try)

“(Y/n)!” A high pitched voice brought you out of your thoughts

You turned around to see Paimon and the twins following close behind

“We’ve been looking for you all over the

“Paimon can you stop calling the Creator by their name, it’s very disrespectful.” Aether reprimanded

“It’s fine, I prefer it if you use my name anyway.” You explained

The floating fairy looked at Aether with a smug grin on her face

“Is there anything you want to talk to me about?” You asked

“Ahem! Well I came to see how you’re adjusting to life here, I can be very hard on those who just came from the surface.”

“I’m doing great actually, I wasn’t expecting to get used to being here this quickly.”

“That’s good to hear, I heard from Lumine that your training is coming along nicely.”

“Well, what can I say? When I have the renowned traveler teaching me.”

“Ohh stop it, you pick up the sword very quickly I ran out of things to teach you.” Lumine said trying to hide the blush creeping up on her face

“Lumine’s right, it’s almost like you wielded a sword before and were really good at it.” Paimon added

“You think so, hopefully I’m quick to learn abyssal magic.”

“I don’t think that would possible?” Aether said

“Why is that?” Lumine asked

“Because abyssal magic is a lot more complicated to control than the 7 elements, it would be easier if you learn said elements first.” The prince explained

“Really…?” You said as you stroked your chin. “Okay, then let’s get to learning the elements.”

“Uh, do you know what that would look like? It would mean that you would have to go and be out of the abyss.” Aether advised

“I can’t stay here forever, and I certainly can’t let that tyrant go punished. And besides…” You clasps your hands behind your back and leaned in towards the blond guy. “I’ll have you and Lumine with me!”

“WHAT?!”

─────────── ✧ ───────────

Tags

@tartarsaucechi1de @chuuya-brainrot

If anyone wants to be on the taglist, just say so

[crguang]

hgsshbyss I sent that ask when I hadn’t slept in 3 days, so my brain wasn’t functioning properly, I haven’t gotten used to not sleeping very much yet. Also I only have a little crush on Black swan so far. It’s just complicated bc I thought I was aroace, but I definitely like women, and the way I’ve been eating up Kafka (I wish) fics isn’t very aro or ace, or every time I do a double take when I see a hot woman, but again, we don’t need to talk abt my sexuality crisis.

btw I rewatched the interrogation scene on the luofu, no deep thoughts bc I didnt sleep again last night :| and blue light is hurting my eyes wish Kafka wouldn’t let me sleep by railing me instead but whatever.

First of all SHES SO HOT I MISS HER. Second of all, they didn’t take her gloves, they took her contacts, her jacket and her GLASSES too, like it’s so silly. I think the only time her hands are exposed are in the countdown art of her, WHATEVER THE FUCK SHES HOLDING IN IT SHOULVE BEEN ME And she went back for them too, like girl, they don’t even fit you ik ik spider imagery, but still and the way she was looking at TB while we were asking her stuff sjhdhsbsjslsns. You were def right abt the speaking slower to control the convo pace.

I was curious abt what she was telling us abt the aeons dying/being killed, bc (assumably) nanook is the final boss, TB is supposed to play part in defeating him, and I wonder if she was supposed to tell us besides for plot reasons, or if she was just stalling. But it wasn’t mentioned after, so it’s probably dismissed as a distraction. And she never tells us the third way. also the way she jumps off after she get out of the handcuffs, her dramatic ass, I cannot with her. btw all my messages are so long I’m sorry :(

-🌠

ANON I JUST SAW MORE LEAKS IM GONNA DIEEEEEEEEEEEEE please… let us all collectively pray that kafka is not in the next banner for my sanity PLEASEEEEE. also you should definitely be sleeping omg what’s stopping you?? three days without sleep is starting to get dangerous, i hope you’re able to crash for like 15 hours soon

yeah i noticed they didnt take her gloves, i feel like they should’ve gone all the way because then its just confusing like😭😭 what would they need her glasses for?;!;? no idea how arrests work on the luofu but that sounds very silly. taking her contacts and coat makes sense but i really cant wrap my head around them snatching her sunglasses hejdhdhf kafka is so funny sometimes, looking good is an essential part of being a criminal she just had to get her stuff back

BUT YEAH HER PACE ALWAYS BOTHERS ME HERE. SPEAK FASTERRRR she was def doing it on purpose to piss me off personally… what’s crazy is that we all just took the nanook part of the prophecy as factual and im just realizing she might just be lying?… she says the SH’s goal isnt to kill an aeon but idk if i believe that. omg we really dont know shit about these people’s goal so far even after getting close to firefly. i need kafka to come back to the main story bc shes the only one who gives us some clues like😭

what i love most about her free fall is that she looked at the ground before doing it, as if telling herself like “yeah i’ll survive this i can look cool” and it always makes me giggle

[ofstoriesandstardust]

orange show speedway

or: Carole and Maverick go to the Del Mar fair with their kids

like father, like daughter masterlist

warnings: swearing, jealous teenager Rebel, this one’s just kind of for fun as we move into summer, did i get Carole completely wrong probably, Bradley’s got a girlfriend for like five seconds and we never see her again, Maverick hasn’t hit his stride in comforting his daughter yet and it’s funny, i wrote this on a whim in like an hour and am posting it before i lose my nerve

word count: 1.6k

You huff, plopping down at the barely-shaded table your Dad and Carole are sitting at. She peer at you from over her sunglasses, a smile on her face. “You alright there?” 

“No.” You say petulantly, crossing your arms. Maverick laughs, licking his ice cream cone. 

“What happened kiddo?” 

You sigh, rolling your eyes at the thought of why you had come back to the table in the first place. 

You and Bradley had both entered the photography contest at your high school. In an effort to work with the youth, the Del Mar fair offered free tickets to every high school student who entered it with a ticket for every entry. 

You’d both submitted two entries, planning on going to the fair together twice, especially now that Bradley had a shiny new license he could use to drive the both of you. 

And then, it all came crashing down when your neighbor had gone to the fair and snuck in alcohol, getting blackout wasted and nearly arrested. Your Dad had insisted he and Carole go with the two of you. 

And honestly, you weren’t really mad about it. Carole hadn’t seemed like herself for a few months now and any time to spend out with your Dad you would jump at now that he was back in San Diego on leave for the next little while. 

No, you were more disappointed at the fact that you wouldn’t get to spend time alone with Bradley like you had been looking forward to. you wouldn’t get to go on the spontaneous ice cream tip that was sure to happen after the fair or jam together in the Bronco with the windows down to songs his parents used to listen to. 

But your parents had been good, promising they’d let the two of you hang out for the day with a wink from Carole and a nudge from Maverick. 

And then-

“Bradley’s girlfriend showed up.” You mutter.

Your Dad hums. “I haven’t gotten to meet her yet. We not a fan?” He asks, eyes flickering to Carole. Carole shrugs, the patterned sundress moving with her. 

“She’s alright.” 

“No, she’s a fucking bitch.” You mutter under your breath, which earns a “Hey!” from Maverick and a flick against the head from Carole. 

“Watch your language.” Carole says sternly, shooting you a look as Bradley and his blonde cheerleader girlfriend come into view. “And be nice.” 

“Whatever.” You mutter under your breath as Bradley beams, sweaty under the California sun. 

“Hi Mom. Uncle Mav, this here’s my girlfriend Angelina.” 

Maverick nods as the girl waves. “Hi Mr. Mitchell, it’s nice to meet you. Bradley’s said so many good things about you. Mrs. Bradshaw, it’s good to see you.” 

“Kiss-ass.” You mutter, earning a pinch from Carole underneath the table. 

Carole waves a hand. “Angelina, I told you. Please call me Carole.” 

Bradley sits down, leaning his body against the table as he face his Mom. “We ran into April and Alex and all them.” 

Carole hums, finishing her ice cream. “Oh that’s fun!” 

“Yeah and I think they wanna go on a bunch of rides. So,” He says, sticking his palm out face-up. “I need money for tickets.” 

Carole sighs, face falling. “What happened to the money I gave you and the start of the day?” 

“I spent it on food!” He says, voice rising with defensiveness. 

“You teenage boys and your appetites.” She mutters with a shake of her head before digging through her bag on the table. “Okay, here. But this is all you’re getting for the rest of the day, do you hear me?” 

He grins, taking the money from her in an instant. “Thanks, Mom!” He says, leaning over to press a kiss on her cheek. “See you guys later!” He calls, grabbing Angelina’s hand as your Dad blinks, watching him go.

“Well, he couldn’t wait to get out of here.” He says, shaking his head as he looks down at your open hand. “And what do you want?” 

Carole smirks, leaning over the table to give you a high-five. 

You shoot her a glare, before turning back to your father. “Money.” 

“What do you need money for?” You Dad says with an incredulous look. 

“So I can call Slider and tell him I’m having a terrible time and I need him to pick me up.” 

Your Dad says your name, rolling his eyes. 

“I’m serious, I know he’s in town. I’ll even throw in fake tears if I have to. I just don’t want to stay here.” 

Your Dad sighs, moving to lean his arms against the table. “Are you really having that bad of a time? Go hang out with Brad and his friends, they all seem really nice.” 

You scoff. “Yeah, to you. They hate me. And Angelina’s a bitch. She’s all, rude and passive aggressive towards me, like I’m trying to steal her man. Like I haven’t known the kid since he was in his dinosaur phase and ran around the house with nothing but dino undies on, pretending to be a dinosaur because someone let him watch Jurassic Park.” 

Carole clicks her tongue and she tilts her head. “I will never forget Bradley climbing the bookshelf and nearly falling off.” 

“Yeah, yeah, he’s a real clumsy fool. Cash please?” 

Your Dad sighs. “Well- I-” 

He looks at Carole for help as the two communicate together silently in the way they do. 

You could only hope to have a friendship like they do some day, in the way that they’re family to one another, brother and sister, wholeheartedly nothing but platonic soulmates. 

Finally, Carole sighs. “Tell you what? Why don’t you and I go look at the photography exhibit and afterwards, we can go get you some funnel fries and share them and talk about the coolest pictures we saw like we like to do.” She leans forward, voice dropping down. “And, if you win any awards, I’ll take you out to dinner next week, just me and you. Wherever you want to go.”

You shrug. “I guess.” 

She sighs, leaning back up. “You wanna get in on this, Pete?” She says, jerking her head towards you. 

Your Dad’s head shoots up, eyes wide. “Uh...” He puts his hand out, awkwardly patting your shoulder. “Sorry.. you uh, don’t have any friends kiddo?” 

Carole groans, hand falling as she pinches the bridge of her nose. 

“I’m going home.” You say, standing up from the table.

-

“Hey, c’mhere.” Bradley says, grabbing your arms. You whirl around as he drags you up the ramp for the ferris wheel. 

“Where in the fuck did you come from?” 

“No time for questions, just walk.” 

“Bradshaw!” Someone shrieks and your head flies around, spotting Angelina storming after the two of you.

Bradley’s still dragging you along as you splutter, completely baffled. He hurriedly ushers you into the gondola as the attendant shuts the door behind the two of you, giving the pair of you a confused glance at the urgency in which he’s moving. 

Angelina is lost to the ground as the ferris wheel begins it’s rounds. Your eyes are still wide as you turn back to Bradley, who seems to be very proud of himself, arms leaning up agains the back of the gondola. 

“What the fuck was that?” 

Bradley shrugs and you try not to look at the way his t-shirt hugs his shoulders. “I broke up with Angelina.” 

You blink, tearing your eyes away from his body as they fly up to his face. “You did what?” 

“She needed to go. She was a bitch to you-”

“Don’t let your mother hear you call her that.” 

“-and mean to my friends and she was sleeping with Jameson Hall behind my back anyways.” 

You snap your fingers. “I knew it! told your mother she was a kiss-ass!” 

He chuckles. “I needed a quick escape and you were right there and I didn’t want you to get caught in her rage cross-fire.” 

“You know you’re gonna have to face her when we get back down, right?” He shrugs. 

“That’s a problem for later. What did you do today?” 

You shrug. “I don’t know, your Mom and I got funnel fries and watched Mav lose at all those carnival games cause I told him I wanted him to win me something. Oh, and we went to the photography exhibit-”

“Wait, I didn’t get to go, Angelina wouldn’t let me out of her sight. Did I win anything?” 

“You won nothing. I won first place for both of my submissions.” You say smugly, sitting back in your seat. 

He smiles, his eyes lighting up. “Hey, that’s not bad!” He says, reaching out for a high-five. You respond, smiling when an explosion sounds behind you. You crane in your seat to see the fireworks going off. 

“Hey, come sit with me on this side. That way you don’t have to twist in your seat and I don’t have to worry about you falling to your death.” 

You probably could’ve just shifted on the bench but you move to sit next to him anyways, squeezing in next to him. Bradley’s arm rests on your back as the two of you watch the colorful explosions in the sky. 

“I kind of think these are a fire hazard.” He mutters. 

You snort. “Hm, let me think. Fireworks in Southern California in summer. Yeah no, not a fire hazard at all.” 

You both break out into laughter as the ferris wheel continues on. 

“Did you have a good day?” 

You give a half-shrug. “Did you?” 

He nudges the back of your shoulder with his hand. He feels warms, even through your sweatshirt meant to keep you warm against the chilly ocean air. 

“Better now, that I get to spend it with you.” 

You roll your eyes. “Who’s the kiss-ass now?” 

"i think it all kinda feels like an orange show speedway/when you’re racing head first towards something that’ll kill you in five seconds flat/when i’m racing head first towards everything that i want back”

[xxavengingangelxx]

Somewhere Only We Know 3/?

Part threeeee! I feel kind iffy about this one. Smurt starts so MDNI! 18+ I feel like the smut is not my best work but there will definitely be more smut in the future chapters :)

Taglist! @bellgraves, @unicorngirly1, @josieguts, @lily-lily131313, @shepgurl - if you'd like to be added, lemme know! ;)

Val feels like she has no choice but to return to Shadow Company for numerous reasons.

EDIT: Forgot to add! Q and A. Will Graves get more affectionate? I've gotten that question a LOOOT. Yes. But like all men he just found out and is a little overwhelmed 😉

-

You didn’t know how much time had passed when Price excused himself to take a phone call. Someone had called him three times back-to-back.

You knew who it was didn’t you?

-

Price wasn’t allowed to wander off very far. That small wing of the hospital you were in had been sealed off. No one enters or exits except for the police and the military.

Your suspicion was confirmed so were you really surprised when you heard Graves’s voice on the other end of that phone? Years of explosions and gunfire didn’t allow Price to turn the volume low enough that your younger, less exposed ears couldn’t pick it up. And because of how close the perimeter of that hospital wing was you heard every…word.

“Price,” Graves’s voice was tight, on-edge, dangerous and you wondered if someone had pissed him off right before.

“Graves,” Price spat back. “Was beginnin’ ta think Laswell had finally approved that airstrike you were nothin’ but ashes.”

“Haha,”

“Sorry,” Price added, “but I constant’ly fantasize about ya dying.”

“Knock this shit off,” Graves warned. “You have two people I’m interested in.” Graves paused before adding, “One I haven’t quite met yet.”

Price’s silence told you he was in shock.

Why did Graves sound so fucking terrifying today?

“Bloody ‘ell,” Price gasped. “How’d you—”

“I have eyes everywhere,” Graves said darkly. “A thing you might not know about southern culture, ya Brit. We like to keep our families together.”

“And you see Val as family? She’s not your wife ya fuckin’ psycho’.”

“No, she is. She just doesn’t know it yet.”

And you don’t know why that line made your breath catch in your throat. You knew Graves was obsessed with you but what exactly did he mean by that?

“You’re such a sick fuck,”

“Get her back to me.”

“I can’t override an arrest warrant,” Price shot back.

“Figure it out,” Graves snapped. “Or Makarov wins and World War III starts. I have the money and the connections to hide me and my family. Do you?”

-

You didn’t know you were still crying until the tears rolled down your face as a female soldier (no, not a police officer but a soldier) patted you down. The UK military was pissed enough to detain you because you’d released the codes to 141’s homing beacons. You had denied torture and refused to say anything against Graves or Shepherd. So they saw it as you betrayed 141 and willingly gave them up. You and Graves had worked together that night, hadn’t you? At least that’s what it looked like on the outside looking in. All the digging they’d done had revealed hushed secrets of how you two had been inappropriately involved with each other pretty much since you’d met.

You had mugshots taken for the first time in your life. They took pictures of every visible scar. You wondered why this wasn’t done at the detention facility and you were told it was in case you or someone who fancied you just happened to bust you out from the facility or even got to you before you even got there. So they’d have pictures of you to show the world and help re-capture you.

You were given a bulletproof vest because you’d made the news and had been labeled a traitor. You were loathed. There had been threats on your life. The news loves making people look horrible don’t they? You wondered if the news knew about your situation. Graves knew. And you really didn’t know how to feel about that. You couldn’t even get away from him by being arrested and detained.

You were never going to get away from Graves were you? You didn’t exactly hate it, though. But it also scared you, didn’t it?

You were chained like you were some outlaw (you kinda were though, weren’t you?). The fact that you could pick handcuffs and liked swing at authority figures had gotten around and so your cuffs were anchored to a chain around your waist. Not too tight. They didn’t want you, a sue-happy American, to sue them if you just so happened to lose that pregnancy.

“You’re really gonna let yourself get locked up instead of sayin’ somethin’, anythin’ against that son of a bitch?” Price asked.

“Just watch out for Graves and Shepherd, Captain,” you stated. “He might like me. But he won’t think twice about killing you. Make sure you and your boys stay safe.”

“You make it sound like you’re sacrificin’ yaself.”

“I can keep him distracted just enough.”

-

The sunlight was bright and it reminded you of how much you hated sunny days. The noise was overwhelming. News crews, people shouting at you, calling you a traitor. So you just glanced down, using your hair to hide your face. 141, for all you had done against them in the last 3 months, shielded you as best as they could.

Soap even pulled your hood over your head and you almost cried at the kindness of it. Also, pregnancy hormones.

It was cold.

You were about to be put into a military vehicle when a familiar voice, a demanding voice, told them to stop and turn around.

It was impossible to understand what was being said outside with all the noise. So you all went back inside, into the warmth of the hospital.

Granted you couldn’t move much. Cuffs anchored to your waist and leg irons. That thin bulletproof vest was tight on you, straps drawn snug. Graves indeed hadn’t been lying that they were going to treat you like a fucking prisoner, a good for nothing. And that was one of the reasons you kept your faith in Graves. You were weirdly bonded to him. You didn’t love him and you were sure he didn’t love you. But it seemed like you both were stuck together for the time being.

Maybe forever. You were obsessed. Maybe just as much as he was. Maybe a little less, though.

But the man here in person? General Shepherd.

“Graves told me what happened,” Shepherd stated. He removed his sunglasses.

“It’s none of yer business,” Price snapped.

“No, it is because she’s mine.”

“No, your Shadow piece o’ shit kidnapped ‘er. And now he’s fuckin’ stalkin’ her.”

“We had reason to believe she was collaborating with Hassan as she was the only one we found. Wandering all alone.” Shepherd paused before adding, “Like an abandoned puppy. That’s the term Graves used. And abandoned puppies need new homes, don’t they?”

Price full on growled. “Thas’ some bullshit excuse ya have. It won’t make sense on paper.”

“But it will,” Shepherd grinned that shit-eating grin he had. It was the same grin you imagined him having when Graves took that initial hostage video all those months ago. “And it did,”

Price was handed papers. What they said you couldn’t read. The print was too small.

“Val here was abandoned by her task force. We took her in, interrogated her, revealed she had nothin’ to hide.” Price signaled at the documents in Price’s hands, shaking with anger. “We did not, under any condition torture her.”

Shepherd looked at you, smirking before adding, “Ain’t that right, sweetheart?”

“They didn’t hurt me,” you confirmed. You lied. You lied to protect Shepherd, Shadow Company, and most importantly, Graves. Something deep inside told you this would not be the last time lying for them. If this shit was brought to court or congress, you’d keep lying to protect Graves without a second thought.

“Val, ser’ously?” Price glared and if looks could kill, Shepherd would’ve died on the spot.

“She’s been with Shadows for 3 months. She’s mine now.” Shepherd demanded. “Hand ‘er over,”

“She’s not goin’ with ya,” Soap snapped. “Ya’ll done enough.”

“Don’t make me get my boys. You sure as fuck don’t want me getting Graves. He’s pissed. Has been. And when he’s mad he gets trigger happy.” Shepherd smirked. “Now go on ahead and get Graves’s little miss outta those cuffs. She wouldn’t hurt a fly. Don’t why ya’ll would treat a lady like that.”

“You’ve lost your mind…again, Gen’ral,” Price snapped. “She’s lookin’ at a court martial. US and UK want her here.”

“Let me put it in simpler terms for you,” That smirk never left Shepherd’s face. “Give me the girl. Give me my soldier or we all lose.”

“You don’t have to go with him,” Price muttered from next to you. “We can get a court to look at this,” He signaled at the pages which you still hadn’t bothered to try reading. “You have a choice,”

“I want Graves,” you said confidently.

The police officer, a new one, looked at Price, his gaze asking what he should do. Release, not release? Detain?

“You’re gonna go back to the company that fucked you up so bad you tried to kill ya’self?” Price paused before adding, “Is’ not jus’ about jus’ you anymore, Val. You have someone else to think about. Don’t do this.”

You shrugged. Because it really was. The bond you had with Graves was intense. Plus, you’d stay out of prison. You did have a child to think about. And the last fucking thing you wanted was you in prison in the UK, Graves in prison in the US, and your child in that horrible foster care system. You’d run before you let that happen.

“We’ll get them after all this, Val,” Price muttered so only you could hear. “They’ll rot in prison.”

“Release her. Now.” Shepherd demanded of the officer. “They’ve removed her AWOL status and transferred her to Shadow.”

“You better sleep with one eye open, mate,” were the last words Price said to Shepherd before you walked out of that hospital with said general free of restraints.

-

Shepherd didn’t say much in the truck. At least not at first. You rubbed your wrists because they cuffs on your wrists had been on too damn tight.

It was you and Shepherd. That was it. You wondered where Graves was. “You’ve done good work, soldier. Graves asked for you by name. Pulled a few strings and got this done because Graves is my best.”

You didn’t say a word. You’d thanked him earlier anyway. Well, that is except to ask, “Where’s Graves?”

��A safehouse,” Shepherd responded. “What’d you tell ‘em, soldier?”

“Nothing, sir.” You responded. “They threatened me with prison but I didn’t say shit. Respectfully.”

“We’ll pull the hospital records,”

“I’ve nothing to hide, sir.”

Shepherd paused before adding, “Don’t disappoint my top man,” Shepherd warned. “He’s gonna be your Shadow for the rest of your life. Told me he’s not letting you go.”

“No, sir. I won’t, sir.”

“He asks you to get on your knees, your response is how low, understand?”

“Yessir,” you felt like he was selling you to Graves.

“Ya ever thought about letting him fuck a kid into ya?”

Your head snapped to look in his direction next to you. Did he know?

“Would be nice to leave all this to family,” Shepherd stated simply. He saw you as something to be used. Was that why he’d said all those months ago he wanted you specifically working for them? A female? A female Shepherd knew Graves had a thing for?

Shepherd chuckled that cold laugh before adding, “I know ya’ll been fuckin’ since you met pretty much. He’s been obsessed with you.”

Was he kidding? And at that second something deep inside you told you Graves might like that you’re carrying his kid. There was no getting away from him now, was there? Even if you wanted to. Where the hell did you think you were going to hide with his kid?

“No offense, sir,” you replied after catching your breath, “That’s not why we—”

“That’s it’s God-given purpose,” he interrupted. “He’d be perfect.”

Who--? Hell, Shepherd was already obsessed with the kid and Shepherd didn’t even know the kid existed. Right? And you didn’t like that, not one bit.

“Product of two of my best soldiers, raised by Shadows, in the field.”

You weren’t sure if Shepherd took your ensuing silence as a form of defiance or as a form of acceptance.

You wished it was just you. Just you going back to Graves, no kid. But you were stuck now, weren’t you? You didn’t think your IUD would fail. But it did. You had less than a one percent chance of getting pregnant but here you were. And that was why you’d made that decision, amongst other reasons, sure. The decision to keep him. Him because you felt it was a boy.

Because maybe while you distracting Graves wasn’t enough, maybe you and his kid would distract Graves enough for him to leave 141 alone.

You just hated an innocent life was involved.

-

“Did you really raise that much hell?” Graves’s voice from behind you light a fire under your heart. He must’ve noticed your brief injuries.

“You told me to raise hell so I did,”

“Atta girl,” Graves smirked.

You couldn’t help it. You reached out and hugged him, gear and all.

And surprisingly?

He hugged back.

“Good ‘ta have you back,” Graves said, his voice tickling your hair as he rested his chin on your head.

-

You hoped into a hot shower the second you could. You scratched your skin raw trying to get those tape marks off your arms from when the hospital had started an IV sedated you that one day. You had tape marks all up and down your arms from all the times they’d drawn blood, marks around your wrists from the handcuffs and restraints.

“Don’t make yourself bleed, darlin,’” Graves chided. He’d been watching you through the clear glass shower door.

“I want it off,” you almost pouted.

He was naked when he joined you and you couldn’t help but eye him up and down shamelessly. He did the same to you. His eyes stopped on your breasts and on his favorite spot between your legs.

“They hurt you, didn’t they?”

His eyes lingered on the tape burn on your face from the duct tape pulled off your mouth three days ago. On the scrape your cheek showed after being yanked onto the ground face first when you hit a police officer in the face. And finally, to those scratch marks on your arms from trying to take the medical tape residue off.

You had indeed made yourself bleed.

“Only a little,” you contested.

“They’ll never have ya’ll again,” Graves promised.

And that confirmed he knew. He knew it wasn’t just you anymore.

You got on your toes. The hot water had you both sweating. Your hair was in loose curls over your shoulders and his blonde hair falling over his forehead. His hair almost looked light brown when it was wet and hanging on his forehead. Your lips met his briefly before he pressed his lips onto yours, his tongue sweeping your mouth possessively. You raised your hands to his shoulders, to the nape of his neck, the strong stinging pain of scratch mark wounds forgotten.

He placed two strong hands on your hips before gripping your ass and effortlessly lifting you. You, out of habit, wrapped your legs around his waist. He pressed you onto the cold tile behind you, making you gasp and hiss and arch your back.

When you arched your back, you felt him, hot and thick and hard, at your entrance.

“That desperate are we?”

You gave him a lustful glare and an exasperated huff while he scoffed in response.

Graves ran his teeth just along your jawline, making you moan. You caught yourself and reminded yourself to be quiet. This was a safehouse, not a black site. It meant noise traveled through the walls like they weren’t there. It wasn’t like back on base where the walls were concrete. And absorbed all the sound.

“We’re alone,”

You moaned more at his words.

“Lick my fingers,” Graves commanded. He had you pinned against the wall, his hot, thick cock just touching your entrance. You mewled, trying to get him inside you.

So you obeyed. You ran your hot tongue over his fingers as he held them in front of your face.

“Show me how you’re gonna take me,” Graves added in a low growl.

Graves suddenly released you and your knees almost gave out.

You wanted him. You needed him.

“On your knees,”

You obeyed instantly. You fucking loved that despite your delicate situation he was still willing to insert at least a little dominance in the bedroom.

Without him asking you to, you took his hard length into your mouth.

Graves gasped and moaned, throwing his head back and catching his hair in the hot spray of the shower.

-

It wasn’t long before Graves was on top of you, in bed. You were both still drenched from the shower but it wasn’t like either of you cared. You’d started sucking him off and after pulling you off of him he’d started to work his fingers inside of you before he’d abruptly cut off the water.

Now here you were, drenched hair sprawled out behind you while Graves had bruising grips on your thighs as you felt him mercilessly use his lips, teeth, and tongue to taste you.

You felt like you needed him to totally own you. To take your mind off that burning pain from where you’d scratched yourself so hard you’d cut yourself open earlier, from what you’d learned from your hospital stay, from all the shit you’d been through. So you said those key words…the key words that let him know you wanted him to fuck you almost into unconsciousness, that gave him permission to leave marks on you.

“Graves, show me who I belong to,”

But to your surprise?

“No,” came the growled reply from between your legs.

“What?” you glanced down and the sight that met you almost made you gasp. Graves, his hands still grasping your thighs, his pupils wide with lust, his chin damp from your arousal, his hair sticking to his damp forehead.

You wondered if maybe you tasted differently. Could he taste that he completely owned you, marked you forever? You were carrying his child. How much more could he own you?

“No, Val,” Graves repeated, his gaze not leaving yours. “Tonight I’m just gonna relearn every fucking inch of your body.”

So after he’d edged you twice and finally let you cum on his lips, he was finally inside you.

And that’s when time seemed to slow down. It felt like you had been apart from Graves your months when in reality it had been a few days. You wondered if this is what addiction felt like. Every time he moved inside you it was like you both moaned in unison. You heard him say something but you couldn’t quite decipher it. Your brain was jelly.

You could feel yourself getting close and he would stop. You whined at the feeling. You wanted to beg him to continue, to fuck you until you couldn’t talk, couldn’t walk.

But every time you’d open your mouth to beg, he’d seal it with his own. And you’d feel him smile, chuckle. The bastard knew what he was doing. So instead of getting rough, he was edging you. He was relearning you and ensuring himself he still knew every inch of you by making sure his cock reached so deep inside you until it could go no further.

“Say my name,” finally came the command. Apparently your ears had stopped working because you knew that tone of voice. Graves had had to repeat this command more than once.

“Fuck me, Graves,” you gasped as his hips stuttered, making your insides flutter.

Graves talked again, but you had trouble hearing him over your own moans and filthy words begging him

Fuck you harder.

Graves grabbed your shoulders and shook you hard enough to get your attention. Not nearly as hard as when he’d fucked you before you were ‘rescued’ by 141. There was a gentleness to his motions that he’d never shown before and you wondered why. Before reminding yourself: you’re pregnant. He was still buried inside you and you arched your back, trying to get him deeper into you.

“Say my full name,”

So that’s exactly what you did.

You said his full name, Phillip Graves, as you came a second time, this time around his cock and felt as his thrusts got sloppy and rough and hard while he came undone inside of you.

-

End notes: This is gonna get soooo complicated! :o

[ms-2hu12]

Tne incorrect quotes

Kim Hajin: Play to your strengths.

Yi Yeonghan: I haven’t got any!

***

Rachel : Who's in charge here? 
Chae Nayun, shrugging: Usually whoever yells the loudest.

***

Kim Suho: Unfollow me if you think the Earth is flat. 
Kim Hajin: *seriously pretends to be a flat-earther to antagonize the anti-flat-earther. 
Yoo Yeonha : *neutral but makes polls to start fights, "Is the Earth flat? Let's discuss!"* 
Shin Jonghak: *not a flat-earther but makes "the Earth may be flat but this ass ain't" jokes for viral tweets*. 
Chae Nayun: *actual flat-earther.*

***

Kim Suho: We can't lose. Because we have this. *points to their chest* 
Chae Nayun: We have heart? 
Kim Suho: Heart? No, me. I'm pointing at myself. I'm going to win this for us.

***

Chae Nayun: I’m genuinely surprised you haven’t gotten arrested, let alone gotten a felony yet. 
Kim Suho: Nat 20 Charisma. 
Chae Nayun: That is NOT how that works-

[dangraccoon]

So Close

Day 3 ~ Set up for failure ~ Wrongfully Arrested ~ "I Warned You ~

Fives

Word Count: 968 Content: manipulation, major character death, mental abuse, mind games, sheev being an asshole, Anakin Skywalker Don't Be A Dick For Five Minutes Challenge (Impossible), Bio Chip Arc, TCW s06e04 Orders, Fox doesn't kill Fives

“Stand down, soldier!” Fox barked. “Stand down!”

“No, no, no!” Fives cried, his hands up. “Stay back!”

“Don’t, Fives,” Rex pleaded, his hands slamming against the shield.

“Get this ray shield off!” General Skywalker ordered.

One of the Corries looked around briefly before aiming his rifle at the shield generator above them, disabling it immediately.

Rex tackled Fives as Fox and the Guards closed in.

“Rex!” Fives begged as Fox secured binders around his wrists. “You can’t let them take me! The- the chancellor– he’ll kill me!”

“Stow it,” Anakin scowled. “The chancellor wouldn’t do that.”

“It’s alright, Fives,” Rex assured him, his hand never leaving his brother’s shoulder. “We’re going to get you the help you need.”

The Guards hauled him to his feet and led him away while Fives sobbed protests.

“General,” Fox stood at attention. “Will you be needing transport?”

“No, Commander,” Skywalker shook his head. “But keep me posted on his status.”

“Yes, sir,” Fox answered, giving a nod to the General, and another to Rex, before turning away and getting on the transport.

Rex watched helplessly as the Guard took him. His heart was pounding. Something wasn’t right in a way he struggled to articulate.

He shuffled to a crate and sat, holding his head in his hands.

“Rex,” Skywalker said.

“I don’t understand,” Rex murmured. “Fives is a good man– a good soldier. I- I don’t understand what happened. What happened on Kamino?”

Skywalker sighed. “He’s sick, Rex,” he said. “Whatever infected Tup must have gotten to him, too.” 

Rex shook his head. “No, something isn’t right,” he insisted. “Fives wouldn’t try to kill the chancellor– he just wouldn’t.”

-

Fives was surprised when he woke up. He’d expected that when the medic at the detainment center injected him, it would be some merciful, yet lethal substance, not a sedative.

His head spun as he looked around the room. It was all too familiar.

“N-no, wait,” he muttered. 

This was the room. This was where he begged the chancellor to listen to him. It’s where Palpatine revealed so much to him.

“Let me out,” he begged the members of the Coruscant Guard he could see. “He- he’ll kill me! Please, brothers!”

“They cannot hear you and will not be releasing you, trooper,” a calm voice snarled from behind him. He strode in front of him. Palpatine.

“In fact,” he said, turning to his security team. “Wait outside.”

One of the guards seemed to startle. “But, sir-”

“The trooper has been adequately secured,” Palpatine waved off his concern. “I will be fine.”

“Yes, sir,” the guard said, and he and the others left. 

Palpatine watched them go until the doors closed behind them. He then turned to face his prisoner.

“You’ve caused quite a stir, trooper,” he said pleasantly. “You’ve nearly created a mess for me to clean up. Nearly.”

“Why haven’t you killed me yet?” Fives grunted, pulling slightly at his restraints.

“Don’t you worry,” Palpatine cooed, his voice as sweet as honey. “We’ll get to that part all in due time.”

Fives watched as the chancellor took a seat in a chair that had been set for him.

“First, however, I wanted to grant your wish.”

Before Fives could ask what he meant, Palpatine produced a data stick from his sleeve.

“This is an audio recording of our previous conversation,” he explained.

Fives’ eyes widened. 

“Now, where were we?” the Chancellor hummed. “I must tell you; you’ve created quite the problem for me.”

Fives blinked. “Sir?”

“You see, you’ve nearly uncovered a plot that dates back to before you were even created,” he said, holding up the slides containing Fives and Tup’s chips. “I had these organic chips created by the Kaminoans to be implanted into every clone trooper created for the Republic.”

Fives’ head was spinning. “Sir, I don’t–”

“Every clone trooper in the galaxy has one of these in their head. Save for you, now,” he tipped his head to Fives. “You’re probably wondering ‘why’, yes?”

“Yes,” Fives repeated breathlessly.

“It’s simple really,” Palpatine sneered. “I wish to see the downfall of the Republic, and with it, the entire Jedi Order.”

Fives felt like all the air had been sucked from his lungs. This man wanted to destroy everything he and his brothers were built to protect.

“These marvels of bioengineering are to help with this plan. You see, this entire war between the Republic and the Separatists; it’s all a farce. Think about it. An entire army, trained and ready to fight at the very moment the Separatists attack? Your entire existence is all a part of my grand plan. You and all the other clones were created for one purpose and one purpose only; to kill the Jedi.”

Fives felt like he was going to be sick. Clones killing the Jedi? They were their Generals, their commanders, their friends! They couldn’t just betray them like that. “Why- why are you telling me this?”

“Because you will not live long enough to tell a soul, not that anyone would believe you,” Palpatine grinned. “Guards, kill him.”

If Fives couldn’t get the chips, he could get this data stick as evidence. General Ti and General Skywalker would have to believe him then. He pulled harder at his restraints.

“This is all you need to clear your name, and save the galaxy from falling into the hands of a Sith Lord,” Palpatine sneered.

Fives watched as the self-proclaimed Sith dropped the data stick to the floor, his heart and hope shattering along with it as Palpatine smashed it beneath his foot.

“I warned you,” Palpatine snickered. “You weren’t believed, were you? And now? Now you will die. Not as a hero, but as only a number. A clone who went mad.”

The last thing Fives saw was a flash of lightning.

« Previous Day Next Day »

Thanks for reading! - River

Whumptober 2024 Masterlist DangRaccoon Masterlist Taglist Form Read on AO3

Tags: @nekotaetae @lokigirlszendaya @get-wr3ckered @jediknightjana @idoubleswearimawriter @lucyysthings @unstable-kiwi @6oceansofmoons @l3xi3luv @savebytheodoresnonjosestuff @winter-phoenix1995 @nomercyforthewarrior @Padawancat97 @flowered-bicycles @error6gendernotfound @techs-goggles9902

[storiesofsvu]

Okay I do live reactions for svu so I should do them for evolution too, right? Lol

TO the newcomers: my live watch thoughts are always rather disjointed, unhinged and might not make sense without context, my opinions/thoughts might change on a second glance/second watch through (which i'll do once it's on disney this weekend). anything in my askbox related to this i will wait a few days to reply to to avoid spoilers for others!

Starting off strong with the vic they dressed similar to jj to make us all panic, so that’s out of the way.

Kinda lowkey hate how this is a follow up from last season but starting with shit we have no major connection to HOWEVER, I do like that that’s how the og eps would start so that’s a step in the right direction, right?

“SSA emily prentiss”??!! has she been demoted or was that just an easier way to introduce herself?

OKAY, em not being at garcia’s bday makes a little more sense now if she’s off working a different case, she hasn’t been kidnapped …yet…

“we should eat some cake” tara being the realest here. Where’s my cake? I still haven’t gotten my birthday treat, this is a crime. Someone remind me to pick up cake on Friday before work.

“you’re hot”(screaming cause jj sees what we see) “a hot mess…” yup.. tara is still the realest. Also “mr or mrs right” confirmed pan queen

Jfc Emily looks SO FUCKING GOOD

OH FUCK ME the SMOKING IS IN THE FIRST EPISODE?! Fuck

BOTH OF THEM ARE SMOKING OHHHMY FUCKING GOODDD. It’s a crime that we didn’t get to see either of them actually smoking though, like they were half offscreen, we all know paget knows how to inhale LOL.

It’s voit she’s consulting with, right?

“good book I hope” LOL. Omg luke

And we have our first fuck of the season!

Voit showing off just exactly how good he is and how he would absolutely win over a jury is such a good play and im here for it.

Second fuck of the season.

Also like…yeah.. they’ve got zero concrete proof that voit was/is sicarius. That’s the thing with criminal minds, they NEVER follow past the point of arrest. 90% of their unsubs would end up in mental health facilities or be able to plead not guilty by reason of mental defect. That’s why the show worked so well prior to evolution, we didn’t deal with that much of the political side of it, the team went home and we all just imagined the unsubs went to prison (if they weren’t killed). There would be no way voit would end up charged with this shit unless they had a TON more of evidence.

LOVE rossi & prentiss’ little tiff that’s really just them watching out for each other and making sure they know the other person still has their back.

On the other side, I’m still not sure whether I’m leaning toward Rebecca or tara’s side. I love them both and will forever be made about the killing the gays trope holding up so we’ll see how the season goes..

I am loving how heavy prentiss of an ep this is

JFC. The two with the most heavy trauma lingering from the last season REALLY had to go through THAT???

OKAY THAT WAS JUST LAZY WRITING!!! I KNOW that Emily only said the “didn’t call 911, walked 3 miles…” thing to rossi earlier but to repeat it that quickly in the same episode is…ugh..

“HE” compromised an investigation… uh… that was half Penelope my guy

Ok but now that that whole investigation is no longer a thing and no longer a case whatsoever that was just the easy way of making it not a conflict of interest and now we’re stuck with this awkward love triangle that shouldn’t be a triangle, right? Like, last season it was a little off imo of Garcia, but we’re what? Halfway through episode one and I don’t EVER remember seeing Penelope like this, she keeps saying “I broke up with him” GURL, you WERE NEVER TOGETHER. You kissed twice, you helped him through a public drunk/hangover, you banged and Emily went “dude wtf call it off” and you ended it. She’s acting like a love drunk highschooler who’s been pining after this guy for months…

Rebecca is SO SMOL

Tyler green’s actor reminds me of ryan Reynolds… like… voice and mannerisms? He’s Canadian.. are they like, distantly related?

“he tried to kill me” “but he didn’t” wtf bruh

LOOOL the way rossi stepped in before Emily could end up all “yeah fuck authority, fuck this, fuck you, and fuck your mom. Here’s my badge”

YESSSS EMILY’S FIRST FUCK

Also can we talk about the fact that we’re into like.. day 3? I think and these babes have not slept…. (day 3 for at least em, tara & pen..)

“I’ll post it on youtube myself” dave… there is no way in hell you know how to use youtube…

Okay. Episode one down. Onto episode two.

 Goddammit there’s no subtitles on ep 2 lol

Tbh. I love clark Gregg, I think he’s a great addition to the cast.

I can’t stop thinking about the thirst tweets and Zach being all “you guys think serial killers are cute? Uwu” LOL

Penelope comparing her like, week long hook up with tyler to tara’s entire relationship?? (yeah I know we don’t know exactly how long they were together but if they were talking about moving it we can assume it was a decent amount of time?). I HATE what they’re doing to Penelope… like..i could turn a blind eye last season and say it was a fluke but not anymore.

FUCK Emily is so goddamn hot

I repeat my last statement oh my fucking god.

Rossi hallucinating is not okay, like…I know a lot of it is ptsd or whatever but like.. man needs to retire

I am REALLY liking getting to see this much prentiss and rossi in the first 2 eps, I saw a tweet or something bout how paget really got to shine in the first 2 eps and that’s so true. HOWEVER, that makes me stressed that she’s got a ton of screen time in the first couple of eps cause of whatever happens to her later on and her being kidnapped/going rogue or whatever happens that has her nearly blown up/injured in the promo shots we’ve seen.

Also okay, listen, Paget’s incredible. She’s been doing this same role for… let’s say 12 years, she’s stepped away to other jobs and come back to CM, the show’s been cancelled and then renewed and she’s still managing to play it perfectly, keep the character the same, her line delivery, her body language, she just slips right back into it and her acting never deviates (unlike some other actors in similar situations). Her talking to that kid was PURE Emily from earlier seasons.

Omg this entire ex gf bickering in front of tyler is HILARIOUS and I am tyler…like, get me out of the car PLEASE lol.

Okay wow… tara that was a little deep cut my girl.

A HOTCH REFERENCE?!?! Also yeesss Emily calling rossi out to say he’d never do it to him. It’s gotta be that awkward situation of being his boss when he’s older, he’s a man, he “should have been the UC before her”, maybe there was a time when he outranked her. trust me, as someone who’s had to navigate that kinda shit in a bar world, that’s awkward enough, props to em for calling him out. Please continue to call men on their crap.

  YES ANOTHER FUCK omg.

I wanna say thank you to whatever director had Rebecca behind the drivers seat and tara in the passenger seat and the camera angles filming them diagonally rather then Rebecca sitting in the middle for no reason other than angles.

Emily’s hair is going to get progressively more straight/unstyled as the season goes on cause she’s more unhinged/out of control/losing it, isn’t it?

The fact that they really listened and put Emily in blue and red in her first two eps…thank you .. lol

“it used to be hard to get someone to take a life. But now, it’s easy. All you’ve gotta do is go on the internet.. tell em a lie.. a big lie..” the TRUTH to that statement is actually fucking terrifying…

Hate voit calling jj “Jennifer” BUT I also know in previous seasons she’s been  all “my friends call me jj, you can call me Jennifer” it’s just weird to hear lol.

Okay,,, is em hyper fixating and she fucked up by mentioning gold star or are we meant to believe that rn? Like obvi she’s gonna be focused on that cause of bailey’s death and her denial of working with voit and wanting to solve that case but… still.. yup… no gold star.. not totally surprised. HOWEVER would NOT be surprised that the same trope comes out later in the season, that they’re working something else and Emily is second guessing herself/dave gives her a look and she’s all “yeah you’re right, I was wrong last time.” And doesn’t believe herself and BAM it actually is gold star and maybe that’s what draws her into the field on her own or whatever.

Okay… im assuming we weren’t supposed to hear what voit said to luke? Or am I just deaf without my subtitles LOL.

“who’s infected now?”  oooohh kay…. Way to end an episode.

Alright, there we are. ep 1 was better? I’ll likely rewatch when they drop on Disney plus tomorrow/Friday after work, but those are my thoughts so far.

[ask-a-bot]

Hello, 🪣 again.

I’m worried about them getting arrested because they haven’t quite gotten the concept of a Speed Limit yet.

Oh. Aha...

Neither have Bumblebee or Hot Rod.

True. We are going to have to educate them fast.

Been trying to for the past 40 years with Bumblebee. He just argues its not his fault and he was born to race.

Younglings today...

[alicepao13]

Hudson and Rex S06E08

Another good episode. As a disclaimer, I’ve had a pretty specific idea of how this episode should be like, so I went in a little bit negatively predisposed. Also, these aren't in order. Sorry.

I remember the dead guy. He was in the episode with Meghan Ory’s character, the first one of the two.

“He’s dead. Are you happy?” Calm down, ma’am, you’re giving him reasons to be stupidly self-sacrificing.

Joe: Charlie no. Charlie: Charlie yes.

“We’re going to transfer all the inmates I’ve arrested out of the prison.” You’ll… what… now?

“I’ll find your killer and get rid of your drug problem”. And also fix your plumbing (oh, wait), clean your laundry, and create a gourmet menu for your prison.

Okay they did find a good reason for Rex to be in there. I'd still have preferred Charlie alone in prison and Rex investigating on the outside.

I hate this hairstyle. There, I said it. However, it’s more fitting to prison inmate Chuck than what Charlie has had all season so far as a cop. Which has actually been tolerable as an image despite not fitting the character, and I refuse to spend more time on that because I keep seeing it being commented on and when this keeps happening, I feel bad.

I think I know the actor who plays Charlie’s prison bunkmate but I can’t place him.

Charlie displayed a lot of badassery in this episode. Also, I think John Reardon did some good work acting wise in this one.

Charlie said “I love you”, “babe”, “you’re the hottest woman I’ve ever seen”, “sweetheart” to Sarah, and all of that while he was undercover in prison and through the phone??? Who do I talk to about this? How was there not a better moment for this? It’s like they wanted to throw these words out in the open in the least romantic way possible.

The way I hate “babe” and yet every single couple I ship is using it… They’re lucky I’ve been desensitized since Castle.

And Sarah’s facepalm on the other end lmao. It’s obviously not the first “I love you” at least. I wonder what she calls him.

I liked the instrumental music for the prison scenes. It was very much on point.

Damn, they put him in solitary for 24 hours. This couldn’t have awakened any claustrophobic feelings from a) the freezer b) the cave collapse, c) the coffin he was buried in d) the containers that almost turned him into a pancake? Come on, guys. Also, do they or do they not have solitary in Canada? It can’t keep changing according to the season.

Sarah worried because her idiot almost died in prison. Charlie finally (I might pass out) having a moment of weakness? Saying that he misses Sarah and Rex? I did not think I'd live to see it.

Jesse saying that they'd pull out Charlie if it gets too dangerous… This is way too optimistic. Realistically, he would have gotten shivved before anyone could do anything about it.

Rex totally wanted to maul that guy for injuring Charlie. Once again, why can’t we see him baring his teeth? German shepherds have scary canine teeth, they’re not just cute and cuddly.

I liked Joe as a guard. And interrogating the suspect, getting a bit handsy with him.

Detective Jesse Mills. Doing interrogations. Detecting lol

Bringing back a bad guy from S1? Interesting choice. I barely remember the guy. And wasn’t that episode like a collective fandom hallucination or something? When Charlie mentioned the guy had killed a kid I was like, oh so we haven’t seen that case. That’s how much I don’t remember that episode.

“Lots can change in that time” Charlie, you’re squeaky clean, bud. You tried to be “bad” in S4 and lasted for like four minutes.

Also, in every show I’ve seen, once a cop enters prison, no one cares whether he’s a disgraced cop. They’d want to kill him either way.

Either they shot the scenes of the prison yard in one day or it was raining all the days they had those scenes. Very gloomy weather, it added a bit of extra grime to the episode.

“Do you want to read the letters with me?” Absolutely not. He wants to go back home, hug his girlfriend and have a hot shower to wash the prison off of him. Maybe this all happened off screen already. I don’t care. I didn’t see it so it didn’t happen.

I liked the episode. It didn’t go my way at all but it’s understandable. I wanted some more danger towards the end, as people were catching on to the fact that Charlie was a cop. Also, Charlie had way too much communication with the team, I know it doesn’t make sense for me to not want that, but it also doesn’t make sense for an undercover cop in prison to be able to be in touch with almost every member of his team throughout the episode. Did I want a Charlie and Sarah scene in the end? Absolutely.

Promo: That is a pretty lame promo for what should be a character centric episode. It looks like a complete filler, devoid of character moements. I hope it will be a character centric episode and not a filler NCIS episode (because Navy). Hopefully it’s just lousy promo editing and not a lousy episode. Interesting choice for Charlie’s dad. And I know people might hate me for this, but I’ll say it anyway. I did prompt a few storylines to an AI model about Charlie facing off his dad, and the AI would always, always have his dad call him Charles. Fucking hell.

There’s no way Sarah is not meeting Charlie’s dad, right? I need to be reassured.

Dude seems so dismissive of Rex that I hope Rex bites him. He should be allowed to bite family members who are being assholes.

[bugmancatchers]

Skye: I’m genuinely surprised we haven’t gotten arrested, let alone gotten a felony yet.  Jeffrey: Nat 20 Charisma.  Skye: That is NOT how that works-

[abyssal-ali]

you knew the hero died, so what's the movie for?

Pairing: Gen Ao3 Masterlist

Rating: E for Extra Bad Mental Health WC: 2.2k

Summary:

Babs finds some footage of Jason acting strangely and calls in the Bats to help her figure out what's up with Jason.

TW: Suicidal Ideation/Passive Suicidal Thoughts, Implied/Referenced Depression, Major Character Death/Major Character Undeath

A/N: (Yes, I'm fine<3) Title from hoax by TS. I love the Immortal Jason Todd theories but I also think he'd have a lot of Thoughts and Feelings about death and life after the first time. (Also don't worry, there is a happy ending.)

~

Barbara Gordon spun on her chair’s wheels to face the Bats. The whole clan, minus one, were admitted to her domain after her special request.

“Why could you not send us the footage?” asked Batman, his voice not so raspy with the modifier turned off.

“It’s safer here. This is extremely delicate information here, and I cannot have it fall into the wrong hands somehow.”

The Bats exchanged glances at Oracle saying she didn’t want to risk this being hacked. Her finger hovered over the play button on her large screen.

“I hacked Hood’s helmet just after he ducked out of patrol to tell him I’d received info I thought he might want to know for a case he’s on. He was speaking, but it didn’t seem like a call or voice-to-text, and the security cam from the alley he was in doesn’t show anyone or anything. The context is weird and the whole situation is…disturbing.”

Babs finally played the CCTV footage after her explanation, showing a typical Gotham alleyway, Red Hood’s large shape the only figure visible as he walked normally into it from around the corner. 

His steps stutter, then his whole being seems to lose tension as he walks further in, his shoulders curling inwards slightly. “Now?”

A pause, then, “What is it this time? I haven’t decided what I wanted to cross off my list this time.”

He leans against the wall, one foot propped on the rough brick casually as he tosses a knife through the air, always catching it by the handle. After a couple seconds of seeming silence, he turns abruptly, his posture tensing. “I just want quiet, is that too much to ask?!” 

He calms, then continues, “I don’t hate you, D. It’s your sister. She always interrupts and it’s gotten really old. You…can either stop flirting with me or do somethin’ ‘bout Elle. She keeps bringin’ me back down…”

He sheathes his knife and shifts into an offensive stance. “I was at peace, D! I’m just…so…tired…” His voice trails off, revealing the weakness his family has never picked up in him.

After a moment, he relaxes back into his slump against the wall. “We’re running outta options. Explosions, blunt force trauma, asphyxiation, suffocation, smoke inhalation, drowning, exsanguination, jugular sliced, cardiac arrest, hypothermia, electrocution…” He ticks off his fingers. “I’m immune to most poisons and toxins, so they’re out, medication burns through me too quickly…” Another pause.

“I can’t just run off with you, D. They’re detectives, and any explanation they’ll believe is falsified, and they’ll pointlessly search space and time. I’m not gonna spark PTSD and make them sad. Oh! We haven’t tried decapitation yet, we could recreate Dickens’ scene…or there’s my personal favourite, you kidnap me in my sleep. Sounds peaceful….NOT THAT I WOULD KNOW ABOUT PEACE!”

The watching Bats flinched at the sudden outburst from the dejected Hood they were wrapping their minds around. 

On the screen, he waves at air, then turns on his heel and stalks out of the alley, heading somewhere else. 

Babs’ trackers showed everyone in the Clocktower, and one red dot at a known safehouse of Jason’s a few blocks from the alley.

Babs turned to the Bats. 

“Hmm,” Batman mused.

“Ambiguous,” decided Nightwing. “You didn’t pick up any interference, magical or alien?”

“No. Everything is clear,” replied Babs, spinning back to her computer to run more scans on the footage. 

“I hate one-sided conversations,” said Spoiler, staring thoughtfully at the frozen image of Red Hood walking out of the alley.

“Who’s this ‘D’ he’s talking to?” demanded Red Robin. “He usually only calls Dick ‘D’, and even then it’s rare. And Dick doesn’t know about this.”

Batgirl got the others’ attention. “Jason is hurt. Always. Not from fighting.” She thought for a moment. “Heart-hurt. Always tired. This is…tired, but relieved.”

“Hmm,” said Batman again.

Two days later, Nightwing and Red Robin knocked on Jason’s door. He’d managed to instill the basic modicum of manners in them with careful traps, a fair amount of glitter, and occasionally a minor wound or two. When he didn’t answer after two tries, and Babs reassured them through their comm link that his tracker was still pinging from that location, they let themselves in.

The first thing they found was Jason, dead in his bed.

In shock, confusion, and grief, the Bats were notified, confirmed it was truly Jason and not some elaborate scheme to fake his death for some Jason-only-knew reason, and taken back to the Cave to prepare him for burial. Again.

To their great surprise, Talia al Ghul marched into the Cave and swept past all their baffled questionings to the table Jason lay on, more peaceful in death than they’d ever seen in life.

She carefully scrutinized him, then sighed and put her hand on his. 

“Don’t touch him,” Bruce snapped, looking worse than he had in years. 

Talia removed her hand after a slight hesitation, turning to face the grieving Bats. “Before you bury Jason, please wait one more day.”

“Why?”

“You do remember what happened last time you buried him,” she reminded them flatly.

With a grunt, Bruce agreed to wait 18 more hours, looking over at his son’s body every few moments from the tea Alfred was forcing him to drink.

The Bats were quietly mourning their brother, son, grandson, friend, tormentor, coworker, rival, saviour when a loud stream of swearing shocked them out of their grief. 

“NOT AGAIN?! WHY?! WHAT THE FUCKING HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!?!” Yelled one very alive Jason Todd, sitting straight up and looking as pale as a ghoul.

He slipped off the table, stumbling towards the group in zombie-like motions, collapsing into Talia’s waiting arms. “Tals? Why’re ya’here?”

“To stop your idiotic, grieving, well-meaning family from hastily burying you again.”

“Oh, thanks.”

The still-stunned bats slowly gathered around the hugging duo. Talia dragged Jason over to the cot in the medbay and forcing him onto his side. “Stay still until you’re better. You should know better, habibi.”

“But my mom was here, I had to hug her,” he grinned crookedly up at Talia, who was unimpressed.

Still, she smiled softly at him, running her fingers through his hair. “Just lie still. 15 minutes on every side.”

“This ain’t my first rodeo, Tals,” he grunted, but stay where she left him. 

Tim opened his mouth and Talia turned her fierce glare on him. With one motion, she directed them all away from Jason to the debriefing area, where he was still within sightline, but wouldn’t be disturbed by their sure-to-be-invasive questions.

“How did he die?” she asked them, looking sternly at Bruce.

“I don’t know.” He collapsed into a seat, staring at Jason blankly. “Oracle showed us a concerning video she found with Hood, we went to his safehouse…and found him…peaceful, in his bed. A little smile on his face,” he choked out.

Talia sighed, glancing back at Jason.

“Why are you here?”

“Mother’s intuition,” she shrugged. “Something was very wrong with him. I was worried, so I came.”

“T, I can deal with them,” called Jason. “I’m a big boy, I can handle their need for privacy invasion.”

Talia sighed but relaxed from her gatekeeping stance, letting the Bats crowd Jason’s bed again.

“How dare you alive again? You were definitely dead,” blurted Tim. 

“Life and I have a mutual hate for each other,” said Jason cryptically. “And Death and I are kinda close.”

“How did you die?” asked Dick, quietly horrified.

“Oh, D was really accommodating–I was asleep this ti-”

“‘D’ is Death?!”

“Yeah, I call Death ‘D’, so what? You all have nicknames. And like I said, this ain’t my first rodeo, We’re tight, she likes me.”

“Ethopia…” remembered the Bats awkwardly.

“Why are you lying down?” asked Steph as Jason shifted to his front, turning his head to watch his family.

“I can’t lie on my back for longer than a few second because of PTSD. And my heart hasn’t been pumping for…awhile, so blood flow ain’t the best right now. 

“First, there’s numbness, like when your leg’s fallen asleep, only full-body. 

“Then, prickles of pain as all your muscles and circulatory system start up. 

“Third, your brain’s fuzzy from lack of oxygen and bloodflow, so you spill your deepest darkest secrets to your needlessly nosy family because some twisted part of you feels guilty for putting them through your death again. That last part might just be me, though.

“Fourth, I’m tired and I want to sleep, so ask T or wait for me to wake up. Trust me, I will,” he grumbled. “Oh, you may wanna shock me a li’l bit to make sure my heart’s started properly again. Sometimes it needs a bit of a tune-up to make sure it’s good as new.”

“Why do you sound like this happens regularly?!” Dick demanded.

“It does.” Jason closed his eyes, turning his head to the other side.

Talia shooed the murmuring Bats back to let Jason rest in peace (consciously).

A couple hours later, Jason sat up again, with more colour to his skin and smoother movements. Talia carefully supported him, leading him to a chair and mug of steaming hot chocolate.

The disturbed bats gathered around him until he looked up with a grimace at them. “I’m fine, okay? Why are you even so worried?”

“No, you’re not fine! You were dead, again, and now you aren’t, and you’re acting like this happens every week!”

Jason shrugged. “Done it enough it feels like it. Don’t worry, I get better quicker the more often it happens; you’ve never noticed."

“You died the first time in Ethiopia?”

Jason nodded.

“And it took…six months for you to come back? This was…24 hours or less. So how often have you died, and what’s the exponential rate?” demanded Tim. 

Jason shrugged again. “Dunno. Based on past times…” he trailed off, looking to Talia.

“With this one, it should be about twenty hours until his resurrection the next time.”

“Why were you even looking for me?”

“I hacked your comms when you were, apparently, talking to Death, and I brought the CCTV footage from that alley to their attention,” reasoned Babs, pulling his free hand into hers and squeezing it gently. “Why would you not tell us about this? We were worried sick about you after we saw that! And then you disabled your tracker, and it took me ages to find your last ping and find your new safehouse!”

“Sorry,” he mumbled into his mug. 

“So you were actually talking to Death? Who is…apparently a person…being?” asked Steph.

“Yep, she’s cool. I’m her favourite repeat customer,” he joked. It fell flatter than one of Bruce’s pancakes.

“You sounded happy to see D,” said Cass, watching him closely.

“Yeah, she’s a lot nicer than her bitch of a sister, Life. She keeps bringing me back,” Jason bemoaned under his breath.

“You don’t want to come back?” Dick asked sadly, inching closer.

“Not really. It’s peaceful being dead. Being alive is so…tiring,” he sighed, leaning his head back and gently placing his mug down.

“Habibi,” Talia said thickly, running her fingers through his hair again.

“But…but you talked down that jumper last week!” pointed out Tim.

“So?”

Cass rewound the footage Babs had played them, playing a section back for the others on the Batcomputer. “I’m not gonna spark PTSD and make them sad.”

“‘Sad’ is…a wrecked car. Replaceable. ‘Grief’ is you dead. We cannot replace you. We are not sad for you. We grieve for you.”

At Cass’s revelation, the Bats’ heads swiveled between Jason and the screen. 

“Little Wing…do you think we would grieve you less than the first time?”

Jason didn’t answer, picking up his mug to see if there were any dregs left.

Talia laid her hand on his shoulder. “Why are you still the Red Hood, habibi? No one is forcing you to. You became the Red Hood to antagonize Batman*. You’ve done that, moved past it. Move on, don’t just give up.”

A strange look crossed Jason’s face at Talia’s face. His eyes darted to a harrowed-looking Bruce, then back to the depths of his mug. “Thanks, T.”

Red Hood retired, Jason choosing to hand the reins of his crime bossing business over to his trusted lieutenants as he moved to Europe, entering Oxford to pursue a secondary education. 

One or another of his family members were more often than not flying to and from his flat to remind him how much they loved and valued him. 

Talia visited him often, making sure that he knew just how much the other side of his chosen family also cared for him. She introduced him to a therapist that was accustomed to dealing with clients with more confidential matters than usual. 

Gradually, Jason healed and discovered his personality aside from ‘anti-hero crime-boss vigilante’. He pursued therapy as a career, becoming a therapist and mentor to the Justice League and its associates, specifically the sidekicks and teen heroes. 

The twenty-hour resurrection rule wasn’t needed for several more decades.

*****

A/N2:

*Yes, I'm aware he also wanted to change Gotham in a way that Batman couldn't/wouldn't etc, but I couldn't get into the nuances there.

Jason has canonically died several times, including the time Bruce stopped his heart (don't ask me for canon references, I don't touch those things with a 10-foot pole) but as I was editing this fic, I decided to go the good/semi-decent dad Bruce route instead; Jason's hurt enough, so you'll only find one small easter egg about that. I also left out the line about the slit throat from the Batarang Bruce threw in UtRH, which I am firmly convinced hurt Jason more than was shown in canon.

I got the inspiration for Jason dealing with post-mortem/post-resurrection stiffness etc from a fic but I can't remember which one. Possibly Who I Am. Who I'll Never Be by Zootopon?? If you find one, feel free to lmk.

Jason is depressed and isn't very objective about the Batfam, and even though they're on fairly good terms in this fic, they're still emotionally consitpated Bats and Jason's a good actor; they're not thinking to reassure him they love him and want him, and he's sure not gonna outright ask for reassurance. As someone with depression (not speaking for everyone, just drawing on my own experience), it really makes you feel like even those you love most and who love you most don't actually. It's hard to ask for confirmation of their love, and especially with dynamics like the Batfam/Jason have, that complicates matters further. If you're reading this and you don't somehow have Issues, learn from this and face your feelings.