#well okay i have like what four or five of those but read the text again and think really really hard about it. i'm just kidding i'm goofing

[fionnaskyborn]

there's something to be said about the very specific feeling of frailty you feel when you come face to face with just how little you've experienced. twenty-odd years on planet earth and you haven't really watched all that many movies. an unlived life facing an uncertain future. i do not know where to point the finger of blame because i live untethered from my past, floating in the present with no clear point of reference no clear definition of who i am or what happened to me and how i turned out the way i am (fucking. can you guess why five is my favorite game. insert that one lyric from that one modest mouse song.) but you're still here, and you can still learn, and you can catch up, but it still feels like you're a pitiful little nobody looking for excuses trying to explain why you're still new to the whole being alive thing. i've got a good head on my shoulders, though, for all that's worth, so i think i might be fine.

in other news, i watched scarface tonight. it was certainly a movie. don't really understand how the movie made it big, but it did have some damn good music. i mean, i don't know. i'm still learning about the world i live in. maybe it really is as much of a masterpiece as people make it out to be and i'm too dumb to see the reason why it's considered a classic. maybe i'm right. i can't tell at the moment. it's kind of a beggars can't be choosers situation - if you ain't watched that many movies, then you can't really be a good judge of quality. but, oh, well. it's one more movie watched. it's a win because i watched a movie. and i'll watch more movies.

[levanterhaze]

── GAMEBOY, BANGCHAN

♡  ― 󠀬󠀬 fratboy!bangchan x f!reader dirty talk, masturbation, fingering, face sitting, use of nicknames, overstimulation, oral sex (f. receiving).

♡ synopsis ― Bangchan is the campus playboy—charming, cocky, and infuriatingly irresistible. One reckless, drunken night leads to a secret you swore you'd never have. Now, hating him is harder than keeping him your dirty little secret.

[5.1k words ]♡― i keep thanking you and saying how grateful i am for those of you who follow gameboy and always wait patiently for the next chapter. you make it worthwhile. i wanted to apologize for the delay, there was a lot going on in my life and i needed some space to try and sort it out. but even so, almost a month later, you're still supporting me and that makes me so happy! PLEASE READ THE PREVIOUS CHAPTERS!!!! that said, have a good read.

♡― THE PLAYLIST.

♡ [part one] ♡ [part two] ♡ [part three] ♡ [part four] ♡ [part five]

They don't know how special you are They don't know what you've done to my heart They can say anything they want ' Cause they don't know about us

Then, like some cosmic reward for all your suffering, things started falling into place one after another, a perfect little domino effect.

First, Yeojin vanished after the party—poof, gone, like a bad subplot finally getting axed. One less headache for whatever this thing was between you and Bangchan. Changbin, bless him, looked downright relieved, muttering about how she was basically a walking red flag factory. You just nodded along, pretending to be appropriately neutral while secretly basking in the win.

Then, to top it all off, Seungmin landed the lead role in the play. You were so damn proud you could’ve cried—not that you would, obviously. You had a reputation to uphold. But still, he deserved it, and it felt good to see him shine.

But of course, life wasn’t going to let you just ride the high of that for too long. Because hiding whatever was going on with Bangchan? Yeah, that was getting harder by the day. It was like trying to keep a wildfire contained with a spray bottle.

It was late after class when he sent you a text—short, simple, with just enough implication to make your stomach do a nosedive. You knew exactly what it meant. And like the absolute fool you were, you didn’t even hesitate.

After finishing up your work for the day, you found yourself at his door, pulse already kicking up, knowing exactly what kind of chaos you were about to walk into.

You scoffed, smacking his hand away—weakly, because let’s be real, you didn’t really want him to stop. Bangchan just smirked, like he knew exactly how easy you were for him. Annoying.

“I swear, you’re so full of yourself,” you muttered, shifting on top of him, your thighs still shaky from earlier. His hands found your waist again, steadying you with that effortless, possessive grip that made your stomach flip.

“Not my fault you keep proving me right.” His voice was all slow and smug, and when he squeezed your hips, fingers digging in like he owned you, you had to bite back a noise that would’ve immediately ruined your whole tough-girl act.

Instead, you rolled your eyes. “One day, your ego is gonna collapse under its own weight.”

Bangchan hummed, unimpressed. “And yet, you’re still sitting here. On top of me. In my shirt. Looking real comfortable, by the way.”

Okay, he had a point. You weren’t about to admit that, though.

You huffed and leaned forward, placing your hands on his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall beneath your palms. “Yeah, well. I was comfortable. But now you’re being annoying, so I should probably go.”

His arms tightened around your waist before you could even think about moving. “Mmm. Nope. Stay.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You got a real bad habit of telling me what to do.”

His lips curved, lazy and dangerous. “And you got a real bad habit of listening.”

Your breath came out shaky, but you still gave him a look, one eyebrow quirked. “You really have no shame, do you?”

Bangchan smirked, the kind of smirk that should come with a warning label. “Not when it comes to you.” His fingers curled inside you again, and you swore you saw stars.

Your hand clenched the fabric of his shirt, trying to ground yourself. “You talk too much,” you muttered, voice betraying you as it wavered.

He chuckled, slow and deep, the sound sliding down your spine like melted honey. “You’re so fucking pretty.”

Your body wanted to betray you—again. Your thighs trembled, heat curling low in your stomach, and you knew you were already done for.

Still, you weren’t about to go down without a fight. “You only say that to fuck me.”

Bangchan bit his lip, amusement flickering in his eyes before he rolled his hips up against yours, making you gasp. His fingers, still teasing, still ruining you, curled just right. “Fair enough.”

You barely had a second to process that before another wave of pleasure crashed into you. He had you—again—right where he wanted. And you hated how much you loved it.

His fingers moved like he knew you—like he had you mapped out, every weak spot memorized, every reaction anticipated before you could even process it yourself. It was infuriating. And unfair. And so, so good.

Your grip on his shoulders tightened as a choked sound left your lips. "I hate you."

Bangchan grinned, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth, his fingers never slowing. "Yeah?"

You nodded weakly, trying to not fall apart embarrassingly fast. "So much."

"Funny," he murmured, lips grazing your jaw now. "You feel like you love me right now."

Your breath hitched, an embarrassingly desperate whimper slipping out before you could stop it. Bastard. You would've cursed him out properly if your brain hadn't turned to static.

Bangchan's other hand slid up your back, holding you firmly against him as he kept working you over. "I could do this all night, baby," he muttered, voice low and smug. "But I don’t think you’d survive that, would you?"

You barely managed to shake your head, thighs shaking around his hand. Your nails dug into his skin, grasping at something—reality, control, maybe just him.

"Then give it to me," he coaxed, lips brushing yours, his voice thick with that tone. The one that sent you straight over the edge.

And you did. Hard.

“Like that...” he moaned, his voice all rough and wrecked as he watched you move in sync with him. “You're so good.”

Smug bastard.

You tried to open your eyes, tried to look at him, but that familiar, electric wave was already creeping up on you. The stretched fabric pressing against your skin, the way his fingers worked you like he had nothing better to do—it was all so damn much, teetering right on the edge of insanity.

“You’re an asshole...” you managed to bite out, sinking your teeth into your lip to keep the moan threatening to spill free.

Bangchan chuckled, low and pleased, and you felt it—right under your hands, vibrating through his chest like he knew exactly what he was doing to you. Because of course he did.

And then—oh, fuck—his movements turned ruthless, all precision and pressure, sending you spiraling so fast your moans broke right out of you. Your head tipped back, your nails dug into his skin, and your whole body rocked with the force of it.

Somewhere through the haze, his voice curled around you, thick with need. “I want you to do something for me... Hm?”

His words barely registered past the white noise of your brain, but what did register? The way he sounded completely wrecked, the way his own pleasure was tangible in the air. And then there was the very, very obvious bulge tenting the thin sheet between you two, because of course he hadn’t even tried to hide it.

It was obvious. He wanted you to know.

Know what you did to him.

Know you were the one responsible.

You would’ve done anything he asked at that moment. You were right there when—out of nowhere—he stopped, completely shutting you down. The crash was brutal, like free-falling from the sky straight onto solid concrete.

Your eyes fluttered open, dazed, like you were trying to remember how breathing worked.

“Come here,” Bangchan said, dead serious.

You blinked, still catching up. “What…?”

He let out a sharp breath, clearly losing patience. “Fuck, I want you to sit here. I wanna taste you.”

And that’s when it clicked. He wanted you there. On his face.

Your hands slipped under the hem of his ridiculously loose shirt, your fingers brushing against his skin. Your face felt hot at his words. It’s not like you were some shy little girl scared of sex—far from it—but damn, Bangchan was direct. No hesitation, no second-guessing. And no one had ever treated you like this before, like your pleasure was the priority. It was all so new. And kind of insane.

“Uh—are you sure?” you needed to check that he wasn’t just caught up in some post-sex delirium. Because let’s be real—most guys just wanted a blowjob. Not this.

His jaw tightened, his hands twitching as they hovered over your body, already impatient. “Don’t make me ask you again.” his voice was raw, almost desperate, as he nudged you forward.

A shiver ran down your spine, excitement buzzing under your skin. Biting your lip, you moved in, knees sinking into the mattress as close to his lips as possible. His hands found your ass, guiding you effortlessly while you adjusted yourself.

“I think—” you started, but the words died in your throat the second his tongue hit. No warning, no teasing—just straight to it.

And holy fuck.

Your entire body lit up, a storm spreading from the inside out, consuming you whole.

His deep brown eyes locked onto yours, dark and hungry, and—Jesus—it was too much. You could barely keep your eyes open, but the sight of him, lips buried between your legs, savoring every inch of you like you were the best thing he’d ever tasted?

Absolute. Heaven.

Bangchan worked his tongue like he had all the time in the world, licking, sucking, tasting every inch of you like he was starving. And the way he held your hips—tight, unyielding—made it clear you weren’t going anywhere. Every time you tried to pull back, leaning on the wall in some desperate attempt to escape the onslaught, he just forced you down, making you take it.

“I—I can’t!” you practically sobbed, hips rolling against his mouth, chasing relief and running from it at the same time.

His response, a low, satisfied hum that vibrated right against you. And then—with wicked precision—he pressed a hand against your clit, slow but relentless, while his tongue slipped inside, teasing, fucking you in a way that had your brain completely short-circuiting.

Oh. Oh, fuck.

Your body dissolved, reduced to nothing but sweat, shivers, and the kind of pleasure that made your vision blur. Your moans were loud, raw, helpless—like you had no control over them anymore.

His lips never stopped moving, never stopped devouring, as you rocked against his mouth, riding his tongue with a rhythm that neither of you wanted to break. And then—just when you thought you had a grip on reality—his fingers found that spot, rubbing slow, intentional circles that sent you crashing over the edge.

You shattered. Completely.

A scream tore from your throat as the most intense orgasm of your life slammed into you like a damn avalanche, ripping everything in its path. For a few seconds, there was nothing—no sound, no thought—just feeling. A feral wave that dragged you under, leaving you breathless.

Bangchan held you through all of it, keeping you exactly where he wanted. Not letting you escape. Not letting you run from the pleasure he was so determined to give.

And fuck, you came hard, leaving him groaning against you, swallowing every drop like he lived for it.

With a smug, satisfied grin, Bangchan flipped the script—literally—rolling you onto the bed and hovering over you. His fingers brushed your hair out of your face, tracing the curve of your smile like he was memorizing it.

“Holy shit,” you mumbled, still catching your breath, a teasing smirk playing on your lips.

He chuckled, then dipped down, nipping at your breast before trailing his way up, capturing your mouth in a slow, filthy kiss. His tongue teased yours, making sure you tasted yourself, and god, it was so messy, so hot, you almost forgot how to think.

Your hands cradled his face, holding him there, as if letting go would snap you out of whatever daze this was. And then, out of nowhere, a thought barged into your mind, uninvited but very much there:

This—whatever this was—couldn’t just end.

Because beyond the mind-blowing sex, Bangchan was actually good to you. In a way that felt… different.

“Can I ask you something?” he blurted, his tone suspiciously casual.

You quirked a brow. 

“Depends.” pulling the sheet up to your chest, you met his gaze, unshaken. 

“Would you stay the night?”

“What?”

“I know it’s risky and you don’t want anyone finding out,” he said, already playing defense, “but I was thinking—order some food, put on a movie… I’ll behave. Promise.”

Your lips quirked as you tried to hold back a laugh. “Liar. Fine, I’ll stay.”

He studied you for a second, like he was waiting for the catch. “...you serious?”

“Mm-hm.” you reached up, grabbing his chin with playful authority before pulling him in for another kiss. “I’ll stay.”

The second the words left your lips, he lit up like a kid who just got handed his favorite candy. And as he got up, grinning like an idiot, something inside you clicked.

Maybe—just maybe—keeping things a secret wasn’t as important as you thought.

Bangchan was suspiciously decent. Like, shockingly so.

He helped clean up the mess you two had made of his sheets, let you use his shower, and even tossed you one of his shirts—which you absolutely did not sniff like some lovesick fool (except maybe a little). And then, as if that wasn’t enough, he got you fried chicken and fries for dinner while he debated which movie to put on.

Honestly? If this was his way of keeping you coming back, it was working.

You settled into bed, feeling weirdly at home in a situation that probably shouldn’t have felt this normal. Meanwhile, Bangchan, completely unbothered, sat next to you in just his sweatpants, bare torso on full display. If he noticed you stealing quick glances, he didn’t call you out on it.

Which was good. Because your brain was already wandering to places it probably shouldn’t.

“Wanna ask you something.” he asked, cracking open a beer.

You nodded, popping a fry into your mouth. “Go for it.”

He watched you for a second, then, out of nowhere— “What’s the deal with Mingyu?”

You choked. Like, full-on, almost died on a potato kind of choked.

Coughing, you took a deep breath and gave him a side-eye. “Damn. No warning?”

Bangchan just took a sip of his beer, completely unfazed. “Because he had his hands on you at the party,” he said casually. “And Changbin said he saw you two at a bar the other night.”

Damn Changbin and his big mouth.

You turned your head just enough to meet Bangchan’s gaze. It was time to be straight with him. No dancing around it.

“I wish I had a solid answer for you, but I don’t,” you admitted, inhaling sharply. You weren’t used to being vulnerable with him. It felt weird. “We went out a few times.”

As soon as the words left your mouth, you felt the shift in Bangchan’s energy.

“He likes you,” he stated, no hesitation.

You blinked. “No, he doesn’t. Why would you think that?”

Bangchan searched your face, trying to put his thoughts into words without completely exposing himself. Because I like you and he’s trying to take what’s mine—that’s what he wanted to say. But things between you two were in a good place, and he wasn’t about to be the idiot who ruined that.

Instead, he shrugged. “I don’t know. The way he was looking at you at the party, plus everything else? It just seemed that way.” he paused before asking, “Do you like him?”

You snorted. “No. I don’t. We... Well, we kissed, but that was it.”

Bangchan clenched his jaw, staying painfully still. Oh, for fuck’s sake. He should’ve expected that, but it still made his blood pressure spike. The jealousy? Immediate. And irrational as hell. In his mind, no one should be touching you, especially not Mingyu.

“Are you mad?” you asked, watching his reaction.

He exhaled through his nose, forcing his expression into something neutral. “No, I’m not mad.” a beat. “I just can’t stand the guy. That’s all.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Mhm.”

There was definitely something more there. You’d already clocked the tension between them at the cafeteria, and now this? It wasn’t just about you.

“Did you two have a fight or something?”

“We used to be friends. Way back.” Bangchan leaned back against the headboard, exhaling like the memory physically weighed on him. “Same university, studied together, all that. Then he joined the basketball team. I joined a semester later. Everything was fine... until I got made captain.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Lemme guess—he didn’t take that well?”

Bangchan let out a humorless laugh. “Oh, he lost it. Changbin kept saying he was up to something, but I refused to believe it. I mean, we’d been tight since we were teenagers. What harm could he possibly do to me, right?”

You stayed quiet, sensing he wasn’t done. There was a sharpness to his voice that wasn’t usually there.

“Then he went and lied to my girlfriend,” Bangchan continued, voice dropping slightly. “Told her I was cheating on her with some other girl. And she believed him—because, why wouldn’t she? He was my friend.” His jaw clenched. “And if that wasn’t enough, a week later, he hooked up with the same girl.”

You blinked. “No way.”

“Oh, yeah.” Bangchan exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “Then he quit basketball, and that was that. Haven’t spoken since.”

You whistled, leaning back. “Damn. That’s some high-level betrayal shit.”

He chuckled, but it was flat. “Yeah, well. Some things are for the best, right?”

You nodded, sitting up straighter. “Right.”

Bangchan glanced at you, something softer in his gaze now. “Listen, I don’t care about what you’ve done before. I really don’t.” He hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “I do hate that it was him, not gonna lie. But... I like this. Now.”

You studied him for a second, then smirked. “Yeah, me too. Even if you are a little dramatic.”

“Dramatic?”

“Captain of the basketball team and a tragic backstory? That's the main character's energy, dude.”

Bangchan groaned, throwing a pillow at you, and just like that, the tension broke.

Something warm settled in your lap—not just his body heat, but the weight of his words, pressing into you like they meant more than he was outright saying. Your heart pounded against your ribs, completely out of rhythm.

Bangchan had already made it clear that he wanted you, that this pull between you wasn’t one-sided. But lately, something has shifted. Like someone had flipped a switch, and suddenly everything was in high definition—colors sharper, touches lingering longer, words sinking deeper.

And yet, trying to read between the lines felt impossible. He wasn’t making it weird. If anything, it was... nice. Easy.

He leaned in, closing the space between you, his gaze dropping to your lips like he was about to seal whatever this was with a kiss—

And you shoved a piece of fried chicken into his mouth.

“Let’s watch the movie.”

Bangchan froze for half a second before bursting into laughter, eyes crinkling at the edges. He chewed, shook his head like he should’ve seen that coming, and then—without missing a beat—wrapped an arm around you, pulling you flush against his chest. Like you belonged there. Like you always had.

Another morning of rehearsal, another round of you showing up late because Bangchan had priorities. Specifically, you. And his mouth. On various parts of your body. Just for the record.

The stage was buzzing, students scattered around with scripts in hand, energy high as everyone prepped for rehearsal. You jogged toward Hyunjin, who was already shooting daggers at Bangchan. Meanwhile, the man in question was slouched in a chair, fingers flying over his laptop, pretending he wasn’t the reason you were running late.

Hyunjin pulled you aside the second you reached him.

“What’s with the face?” he asked, squinting at you like you had something incriminating written on your forehead.

You blinked. “What face?”

“Oh, don’t even try it. You look like you just walked out of a rom-com montage. Like, full-on birds singing, twirling-in-a-field levels of happy.”

You snorted, swatting his arm. “You’re being dramatic.”

“And you’re glowing.” Hyunjin grinned knowingly. “Not that I’m judging. It’s actually nice to see. Ever since you and Bangchan… you know.” He waved a vague hand. “You just seem happier. Like, actually happy.”

Your eyes flickered over to the soundboard, where Bangchan was deep in concentration, brows furrowed as he typed something.

Could Hyunjin be right? Was this—whatever this was—more than just fun? Was the weird ache in your chest not confusion, but something else entirely?

Something dangerous. Something real.

The teacher clapped their hands, calling everyone to attention. “Alright, we’re starting with the first scene!”

Seungmin took center stage—the boy with a voice so good it could probably charm a snake, if not an entire room full of theater kids. His character, a small-town dreamer, rejected by his narrow-minded community for daring to want more. Enter Seulgi, your character—his sharp, ambitious, and slightly morally flexible guide to the big city. She introduces him to all the glitz, glam, and occasional questionable life choices that come with chasing dreams. Somewhere between the bright lights and late nights, they fall into each other’s arms, two lost souls trying to find themselves.

Seungmin, ever the pro, stepped into the scene like he was born for it. When the script called for him to be mocked and booed by the townspeople, he stood tall, his face a perfect mix of defiance and heartbreak. And then—his solo.

His voice hit the air like honey dripping off a spoon, warm and slow, yet effortlessly smooth. Even the most cynical among you had to admit it was kind of magical. You blinked rapidly, not about to let musical theater be the thing that made you cry today.

Rehearsal wrapped up, and the usual post-practice hunger kicked in. You, Hyunjin, and Seungmin made a beeline for the cafeteria. It wasn’t long before the whole crew assembled—Eunji and Sohee joining once their classes were done, Minho curled up with his girlfriend like a human-sized housecat.

Then came Jisung, followed by Changbin, Felix… and Bangchan.

And just like that, your heart did that thing again. The annoying, fluttery, completely out-of-your-control thing.

You were totally minding your own business, pretending to scroll through your phone, when you caught Changbin dropping the bomb.

“This weekend, I convinced my parents to let us use the beach house. So, everyone’s invited.”

Cue instant chaos. Eunji and Sohee screamed like they had just won the lottery. Meanwhile, you? 

Full. Blown. Panic.

A whole weekend next to Bangchan? With all your friends around? No touching, no sneaking off, no getting lost in him the way you had been lately? That was actual torture. How were you supposed to act normal?

“Yeah, I think I’ll sit this one out,” you said, aiming for casual but probably missing.

The entire table immediately turned on you.

Sohee gasped like you had personally offended her entire bloodline. “Are you insane? It’s the beach. The ocean. The sand between your toes. Vitamin D!”

Felix draped himself over your shoulder dramatically. “And who else is gonna be my diving buddy?” His eyes twinkled with fake betrayal. You just laughed, shaking your head.

Then Bangchan, because of course it had to be him, chimed in. “What, don’t tell me you’re allergic to fun too?” His smirk was pure provocation.

You shot him a look. “Allergic to idiots? Maybe.”

Eunji groaned, rolling her eyes. “Took you two long enough…”

You fought the grin tugging at your lips, and you caught Bangchan doing the same. No one else at that table had a clue what was really going on, but you both knew exactly what this little game was.

“I dare you to be less grumpy and just go,” Bangchan said, arms crossed like he’d already won.

Sohee clasped her hands together in front of her chest. “Please?” she pleaded, giving you the full puppy-eyes treatment.

You sighed, dragging it out for effect before finally giving in. “Fine, fine. But only because I don’t owe this insufferable bastard anything.”

You shot Bangchan with another playful glare, but he just shrugged, smug as ever—completely failing to hide how pleased he actually was.

Everything was packed, the energy was high, and you could practically taste the salty ocean air even though you weren’t even there yet.

Sohee was perched in Minho’s car, swiping on lipstick in the rearview mirror while Eunji and Jisung got comfortable in the back.

“Wait, you’re riding with Changbin?” Minho asked, craning his neck out the window.

Changbin was posted up in his own car, already surrounded by Felix, Hyunjin, and Seungmin. Logically, there were still two more seats to fill before all the cars were set. And just like that—like the universe was playing some cruel joke—Bangchan strolled up with a backpack slung over one shoulder and his car keys twirling around his finger.

“You can ride with me if you want,” he offered, completely casual. “Plenty of space.”

A lump formed in your throat. Everyone here knew about the so-called rivalry between you two. But lately, that line had started to blur—truce or not, the pull was getting harder to ignore.

Inside the car, Sohee shot you a suspicious little smirk, clearly clocking the shift in energy. You straightened up, forced your best nonchalant expression, and turned to Bangchan with an easy shrug.

“Works for me.”

Without waiting for anyone else’s reaction, you strutted over to his car, refusing to acknowledge the silent stares—or the way Changbin’s smug grin practically screamed mission accomplished.

Bangchan trailed behind at his own pace, passing Changbin’s car just in time for his friend to flash him a knowing look. He ignored it, popping open the trunk.

“Lemme take that,” he said, grabbing your bag before you could protest.

You rolled your eyes, but let him. Because, well… maybe he was annoying, but at least he had manners.

That car held some insane memories—the last party, the way you two finally stopped pretending, how everything that had been simmering beneath the surface finally exploded. And now? Now, things were different. You could feel it in your gut.

Bangchan clicked his seatbelt into place, his eyes flicking to you as you did the same. That little smirk of yours didn’t go unnoticed.

"Everything good?" His voice was low, like the others might somehow hear from outside.

"Yeah." You smiled. "And you?"

He exhaled, fingers flexing on the wheel, lips curving into something small but telling. "You have no idea."

The drive to the beach house was easy, comfortable. Bangchan let you take over the playlist, and the car turned into your personal stage. You belted out your favorites, even the ones he dramatically groaned about just to mess with you. He still sang along, though.

The city faded behind you, replaced by open roads and a sky that stretched endlessly. And then, there it was—the ocean, gleaming under the sun, like it had been waiting for you all along.

The weekend had potential. Sure, sneaking around with Bangchan would be a challenge—especially with nosy friends and zero privacy—but hey, you liked a little risk. And after everything that had gone down between you two, the idea of keeping it all under wraps was starting to feel… unnecessary. Too normal, even.

The beach house was straight out of a Pinterest board—huge, sun-soaked, and framed by a postcard-perfect yard that led straight to the ocean. Flowers lined the walkway, the grass was freshly cut, and you were pretty sure Changbin’s family was secretly loaded.

“Damn, Binnie. Didn’t know you were out here living like a rom-com protagonist,” you teased as you stepped out of the car, stretching after the ride.

Changbin just grinned. “Perks of being the favorite son.”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing your bag. “Right, I’ll get my stuff upstairs.”

Inside, the guys were unloading groceries while Eunji and Sohee had already claimed the balcony for an impromptu photo shoot. You made your way up the wooden stairs, taking in the absurd amount of space.

When you peeked into one of the rooms, your eyebrows shot up. “Okay, damn.” The place was huge. You knew Changbin had money, but this was a statement. The kind of house that could fit a whole cast of reality TV contestants without feeling cramped.

Still, you had priorities. First, drop off your bag. Second, claim a decent bathroom before the others got to it. Third—well, third was figuring out how to not get caught sneaking around with Bangchan all weekend.

You barely made it two steps out of your room before strong hands wrapped around your waist, yanking you into a dark room. A startled gasp slipped out—one that quickly turned into something else when familiar lips brushed against your neck.

“Have you lost your mind?” You smacked Bangchan’s chest, though the effect was ruined by the way your breath hitched. He reached behind you, flicking the light on just enough to reveal his face—desperate, hungry, completely unapologetic.

“I know, I know,” he groaned, voice husky as he buried his face back into your neck, lips tracing the sensitive skin. “But hours. Hours in a car with you, pretending I don’t want to drag you into the backseat? I’m dying here.”

You laughed at his theatrics, but his hands were already roaming, gripping, claiming. His eyes were dark, his lips parted, his tongue flicking over his bottom lip like he was about to devour you.

“Are you gonna make it?” you teased, tilting your head, enjoying the way he tensed under your touch.

“I don’t know…” His fingers dug into your waist, his voice thick with need. “I think I’m too weak.” His gaze dipped to your lips. “And you’re so irresistible.”

“Then shut up and do something about it,” you challenged.

A spark flashed in his eyes—game on.

The second his lips crashed into yours, it was wildfire. His hands tangled in your hair, gripping tight like he was afraid you’d disappear. You fisted his black shirt, yanking him closer, pressing against him like you needed to steal his warmth, his breath, him. The scent of him—musky, intoxicating, familiar—wrapped around you as he kissed you like a man starved.

And you weren’t planning on letting him go anytime soon.

Bangchan was just about to hook your leg around his waist—his hands hot, his breath ragged—when the unmistakable sound of a car engine shutting off made you both freeze.

“Someone's here,” you whispered against his lips.

He groaned, forehead dropping against yours, his grip on your waist tightening like he was debating whether whoever just arrived really needed to exist right now. But you were already slipping from his grasp, smoothing your hair and straightening your clothes like you hadn’t just been seconds away from making bad decisions.

Bangchan cursed under his breath, raking a hand through his hair before following you down the stairs.

At the bottom, Changbin stood with his arms crossed, wearing an expression like someone had just kicked his dog.

You blinked. “Uh, everything okay?”

Changbin’s scowl deepened as he jerked his head toward the door. “Tell your friend she’s completely clueless.” Then, without another word, he stormed off.

You exchanged a glance with Bangchan before looking to Hyunjin for answers, but he just stood there looking like he’d seen a ghost.

And then you saw why.

Standing in the doorway, grinning like she’d just pulled off the best prank in the world, was Eunji.

And next to her, with a backpack slung over his shoulder and a hesitant, too-wide smile?

Mingyu.

“Surprise!” Eunji announced, her voice bright and excited.

The silence that followed? Absolutely deafening.

♡ taglist ― @kenia4 @chrizrizz @meerabmalik @gnabnahcsworld @gncbnahc @jinniejjam @skzworldx @itsacatastrophe-xo @soonie1010 @4ng3l-ch1ld @justwonder113 @tsunderelino @eastjonowhere @lyracarvahall @akindaflora @victoriaaf @ebnabi @wickedbutlovely @bitchysunflower11 @ravengxbss @letrascafeymar

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ don’t blame me ] n. hischier

paring : Nico Hischier x fem!reader

summary : after a great performance by the captain but a loss for the devils, Nico airs out his frustrations to his girlfriend after the game and she does her best to make him feel better

warning(s) : a v frustrated nico, some yelling, angst w a very happy ending

author’s note : okay look i saw people on twt blaming nico for the ot loss against the caps and was reading what he said after the game and got all sad abt it so i channeled my own feelings into this. it’s short but full of emotion so i hope you enjoy

༺──────────────༻

Over the years, she’s seen how upset Nico can be while he does his postgame interviews. Tonight though, he seems extra distraught about the game despite his own performance.

He played an incredible game. Two goals, an assist, on the ice for four of the Devils’ five goals, and an impressive faceoff percentage. Yet, the boys in red and black lost 6-5 in overtime to the Capitals.

She watches Nico’s interview when it drops while she waits in the car for him after the game. He says they didn’t deserve to win, but she knows that he deserved that win. He barely even talked about his Devils record with those two goals he scored in ten seconds at the beginning of the second period.

Fastest two goals scored by the same player in franchise history, and he skimmed over that question and had a very short answer when he did.

Nico blames himself for the loss, and he shouldn’t because he played some incredible hockey tonight. It’s a shame they couldn’t pull out the win for him. It breaks her heart that he blames himself for that overtime goal. He got caught on a bad change. It’s not his fault.

She wants to text him to let him know that the outcome of the game isn’t his fault, but she lets him have his few moments alone to ponder and think about the game like he does whenever he plays. She knows she’ll get her time with him when he comes out of the Prudential Center.

An hour after the game ends, and a short ten minute nap for her, Nico leaves the building. He walks out with Jack and Timo. He says something to them before he gets in the passenger’s seat of her car.

A frown forms on her face when he doesn’t say anything to her when he gets in. He types something on his phone instead of saying something to her.

“Neeks?” she says to get his attention. He looks up at her when she calls his nickname. “Hey.”

“Hi.”

His voice is low and hoarse like he’s been crying. His usually bright eyes are dark and swollen. She wouldn’t put it past him to shed some tears in frustration that he’s probably feeling. It’s not the first time his team has left him out to dry after an incredible performance. He takes all the blame as their captain too despite none of it being his fault.

It truly does break her heart.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she questions. “Or do you just want to go home?”

“Go home,” Nico replies. “Please. I don’t feel like talking about the game right now.”

She nods silently and puts the car in reverse to pull out of the parking spot. Nico remains quiet as she begins to drive back to their shared apartment.

At one of the red lights she stops at, she glances over to see Nico scrolling on some social media app and frowns. He lets out a soft sigh before he turns off the phone and looks out the window.

This is not how Nico reacts after games. Either he’s very talkative about the game and how well the team did or he is venting to her about how bad they played that night if none of them played well. Quiet Nico after one of his best performances is slightly concerning. Even after the whole team lost.

The drive back to their apartment is fifteen minutes once she actually pulled out of the parking lot. Nico gets out as soon as it’s in park and begins the trek into the building. She follows close behind him so they can get on the elevator together to go up to their floor.

As soon as they’re behind the safety of a closed door, he pulls the beanie off his head and launches it across the living room until it hits the wall.

“Sometimes I wish they never gave me the stupid C,” he suddenly blurts out. “I let them put all the blame on me and I take all the blame. I do that so they can perform better on the ice instead of their mentality ruining their game on the ice and this is what they do? Fuck!”

She quickly walks up to her boyfriend and says, “You do that because you’re a good captain, Nico. You’d probably let them even if you didn’t wear the C on your chest. That is the kind of guy you are.”

He looks down at her and takes a step back. “You don’t understand,” he replies. “I already blame myself for that last goal they scored. I was on a change and the puck went into the net while I was trying to get off the ice to get some fresh skates on. That’s on me because if I had just stayed on the fucking ice, we would’ve won that game. I would’ve found a way to get a turnover and I would’ve put the puck into the net myself because I played really great tonight for them to barely show up.”

“You’re frustrated,” she tells him. “And that’s fine. You’re so valid in your frustration and feelings, but do not think for one second that the loss is on you. You said it. You played great tonight so this is not on you. It sucks that your team couldn’t back you up.”

Nico runs his fingers through his hair. “Every loss is on me,” he replies. “They can blame me all they want, but I need them to back me up. I can’t keep putting up these multi-point nights for them to fuck it up while I’m not on the ice. It fucks with my head sometimes and I’m over it. I’m so over this because it happened so many times.”

She wraps her arms around his torso and rubs his back. “You’re the best captain,” she reminds him. “This is who you would be no matter what is on your chest. One day, all this will pay off. It will end with you raising the Cup then passing it to Jack. They will get you the Cup before the end of your career. All this frustration you’re feeling has an end. One way or another.”

He buries his face into her hair and wraps his arms around her shoulders. “I just need them to back me up,” he mumbles. “I can only take their blame so they can play better for so long before it fucks with me.”

“I know, Neeks,” she replies. “But you’re doing a great job at helping them be their best selves and the best players they can be on the ice. You just have to remind yourself that this will all come to an end at some point.”

Nico nods against her hair. “That overtime goal is on me though,” he tells her.

“Nico Hischier, I’m going to kick your ass if you blame yourself for any part of that loss,” she sharply replies as she pulls away from the hug. “It is not on you. There was nothing you could have done to change that outcome. You put everything into that game and that’s that. You were the best player on the ice tonight in every single statistic. Got it?”

He nods again quietly. “Got it,” he sighs. “Sorry that I’m venting like this to you. I am a little frustrated. It’s supposed to be a new season and I’m seeing things from last season that I thought we already worked on.”

“That’s fine,” she tells him. “Just don’t take it out on yourself, okay? I don’t like this quiet, frustrated Nico. Talk to me, talk to your team, talk to your coaches. It helps.”

Nico gives her a small smile. “I know.”

“Good,” she says. “Now, go take a shower because you still stink. I’ll make us some snacks and we can watch a movie, okay?”

He nods again and walks down the hallway.

Yeah, he’s allowed to be frustrated. Blaming himself is not the best thing to be doing, especially with the way he has been playing to start the season.

There are still 70 something games left to play. He doesn’t need to blame himself on game 8 of the season.

༺──────────────༻

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[esamastation]

Gamer girl gets transmigrated into a farm boy Chapter 2 [<<Prologue | <Chapter 1 || Chapter 3>>] Ao3 link

-

This dream… has been going on for a while. For hours now. And it's getting kind of… boring. Sure, it had been amazing to start with, taking the reins of the cart and steering it away from the farm and into the open road, but after a while, after a couple of hours… 

It's just hills and farm fields as far as the eye can see. There's a few spots of trees here and there, some other farmsteads, a few actual orchards, but nothing particularly exciting. Definitely nothing worth wasting a perfectly good lucid dream on. 

Also, Van's ass is starting to get numb.

Even the automatic driving function doesn't help with the tedium - if anything, it makes this whole thing that much more boring, really. He doesn't need to focus at all, which leaves time for his mind to wander, which is… all it does, really. 

He can still see the white text floating about - it tells him which Pebbles by the road are suitable slingshot ammunition and that a Fallen Branch is somehow Lvl. 1, which should mean there is some combat to be had. It's been pretty peaceful so far, however. Aka boring.

It had been that way in Age of Tales too, though - everything started quietly until the Incident. This is still in the tutorial section - though at least the tutorial had helpfully skipped the slow travel portions of this mission. Not so here.

Wonder at what point could he stop enjoying the dream and start worrying about having been for real isekaied into Katie's favourite game, Van glances over his shoulder at the back of the cart. Mr. Gylcross is fast asleep on top of some oilcloth, using a sack of grain for a pillow, snoring peacefully. Deeming the guy well and truly out, Van looks forward and then calls, under his breath, "Open menu?"

Nothing.

"Okay, uh. System?"

That gets him a window, white and shining, blinking into existence in front of him. It's geometrically perfect as though drawn with a ruler, and now that he looks at it, he's pretty sure the font is Arial. Cool.

Though Katie is pretty sure you're not supposed to be able to read stuff in your dreams, Van can read the menu just fine, just like he's been able to read the other System windows. 

[Character] [Inventory] [Missions] [Journal]

It's pretty much exactly as it was at the start of Age of Tales, including the greyed out options that had to do with class selection and later events. No Magic tab, no Lore tab, no Bestiary or Herbarium or Military Strategy… he doesn't even have the Crafting tab active yet.

Still, seeing the list fills Van's heart with gleeful excitement, and he hits the Character tab first. It opens up his Equipment and beside it his Status screen, just like in the game. 

In Age of Tales, the player character could equip five articles of clothing - a hat, shirt, jacket, trousers and shoes - with up to five accessories - anything from capes and gloves to magic rings and amulets - and four weapons. Currently Van is wearing three clothing items - Rough Tunic, Lvl.1, Rough Woollen Trousers, Lvl. 1 and Peasants Wooden Sandals, Lvl. 1. His belt isn't categorised as an Accessory item, but as a Backpack item - Workman's Leather Belt, Lvl. 1, which gives him extra three Inventory slots on top of the four he has without any equipment. All of those extra inventory slots are taken by his weapons: Simple Knife, Lvl. 1, Shepherd's Sling, Lvl. 1, and 14 x Basic Stone Ammunition, Lvl. 1.

It's all exactly like it is in Age of Tales.

"Do I have eidetic memory or something? This is kind of trippy," Van murmurs, rubbing his chin with his free hand, the other still holding the reins. The System seems a bit… stiff. "Hey, System? Can you answer questions? Or talk at all?"

No answer.

"No AI assist?" Van asks hopefully. "Mods, administrator? Spiritual guidance? Anything?" 

Nope, apparently not. 

Oh well, at least he has a System, Van muses, and then looks at the Stats screen.

[Farmboy] [Van] [Lvl. 1 Commoner]

[Status:] [Constitution: 10] [Strength: 10] [Dexterity: 1] [Intelligence: 1] [Wisdom: 10] [Charisma: 1] [Luck: 1]

… Ah, right. Katie had a build in mind for Van, and the stat points were allocated in the character creation, so she'd maxed out the essential for an early Paladin build and left everything else to… rot, basically. Which was fine, since in the early game it was easy to level up… plus she cheated. Gold duplication glitch plus travelling potions salesman equals 99 Draught of Memory Potions at lvl. 1 - aka, exp boosters.

It had been a fun run, though. Van had beaten the first mini boss and all of Valthor's Minions in Westbrook with a rake in one hand and pot lid in the other, wearing nothing but his undies. The cutscene after the battle was hilarious - though sadly, Van's streaking did not translate over to Valthor's side of things, and the game forced Van back in his starter gear as the Big Bad spied on his minions' defeat with a scrying mirror.

It was a travesty, honestly. The game just refused to let Katie show Valthor Van's massive tits.

Shaking his head sadly, Van closes the character screen and investigates the rest. The Inventory is pretty much exactly as he expects it - with the belt full and the apple sitting in his pocket, he has three open inventory slots left - and so is the Missions - which only has the trip to town in it.

His Journal though…

1st day.

Woken up by Ms. Gylcross, asked to get the cart ready - did. Josel helped, gave me some Slingshot Ammunition. Breakfast was good. Ms. Gylcross gave me an Apple.

Heading to town with Mr. Gylcross.

… Shakespeare Van is not. Or rather Van's System, because he sure as hell didn't write any of that.

And just as he thinks it, the entry changes before his eyes and completely rewrites itself.

1st day.

I woke up in Van's body in a pile of hay, on a hayloft, in the Gylcross farm, inside Age of Tales! What's up with that?! Like, is this Isekai? Have I been Transmigrated? System, help!?

Thank god it's still the tutorial and Age of Tales dialogue kinda sucks, because no one noticed anything weird. This starter NPC, Janelle, came in when I was just about to jump down the hayloft and gave me the beginner mission, told me to get a cart ready for a shopping trip. In the game it's supposed to teach you how to interact with quest items. Here…

Here I can see levels of people and items, just floating there, in the air! It's like something out of mmorpg! Pretty cool. Also, my boy Van is Stronk, son! Also, bigger than Big Boy Josel. Sorry, Josel. You were cute and then you died. Rip.

Anyway, I got the cart ready and Josel got the horse and gave me some Slingshot Ammunition, so that's cool…

Van isn't sure whether to be amazed or creeped out.

The rest of the entry goes on like that - exactly as Katie would've written a diary entry back when she used to write diaries, when she was thirteen. It details the morning, ending with…

…and now my boy Van is getting a bruised butt from driving a cart, wagon… thing. Whatever. I've been Transmigrated into another world - into the world of Age of Tales! All my Isekai dreams are coming to life! 

Van closes the tab slowly, staring right ahead for a moment. He's shivering, breaking out in cold sweat. Katie thinks he might be dissociating.

The town of Westbrook is finally visible in the distance, columns of smoke rising from the chimneys and the town's church spire rising above all the other rooftops.

By the end of the tutorial chapter it would be on fire, as the Incident began.

Van swallows and turns to look over his shoulder at Mr. Gylcross. "Sir," he calls, his voice dry and thready, and clears his throat to try again. "Mr. Gylcross, we're here."

The farmer lets out a guttural snort and coughs himself awake. "What's that?" he asks, his impressive moustache twitching from side to side. "Ah, yes, yes - here we are. Straight to the market, Van, if you please."

"Right," Van says, and lets his body run on automation for the rest of the way.

The town of Westbrook is a perfectly quaint, vaguely medieval, vaguely European town, with vaguely Tudor houses and a vaguely gothic church. There's English ivy growing over a lot of the houses, and little colourful signs advertising the item shop and the smithy, and the only inn in town is the second biggest building in Westbrook, of course. The marketplace is right in front of it, full of colourful stalls, painted carts of traveling salespeople, and a milling crowd. There's happy chatter in the air and the sun is shining beautifully.

It's all very picturesque. The only thing missing is the merry background music.

Van is probably still dissociating.

Thank god for the autorun feature. 

"Ah, here we are," Mr. Gylcross says and points. "Just over there, Van - bring the cart around the fountain - yes, good."

Van parks the cart - is that what it's called when it's something drawn by a horse? - beside a stall full of empty crates. Mr. Gylcross hops down with a cheerful, "Drakner, my good man, how are you?"

As the farmer approaches the buyer, Van clumsily gets off the cart and tries to stretch his stinging behind. Bell the workhorse is leaning towards the fountain, and there's a mission prompt.

[Tend to Bell the Workhorse, Lvl. 1.] [Bell the workhorse has been working hard and needs to be cared for. Get the Bucket and some Water for her and wipe her down.] [Quest reward: 5 exp.]

[Prepare items?] the System asks and Van selects yes. His body picks up a bucket from the cart, fills it from the fountain and holds it up for Bell to drink from before grabbing a rag to wipe the worst of the sweat off her.

Bell rewards him by trying to steal the apple from his pocket, just as the System informs him the quest is complete. Well, 5 exp is still something.

"Van, come here and help me with this," Mr. Gylcross calls and there's another mission prompt.

[Unload the grain, Lvl. 1.] [Mr. Gylcross has sold his excess grain to the travelling merchant, Mr. Drakner. Unload the grain sacks from Mr. Gylcross' cart into Mr. Drakner's cart.] [Quest reward: 5 exp, 2 silver pieces.]

[Prepare items?] is Van's favourite System feature, he decides, and continues to daze off as his body does the work, grabbing the grain sacks and piling them up in the buyer's cart.

"Damn, you're one a big blighter," the buyer says, peering up at him. "What's Gylcross' here feeding you? Say, why don't you come work for me - with a big fella like you around, I won't even need guards!"

Van looks at him. The buyer is a short man, very short - but not thick or bearded enough to be a dwarf. He kind of looks the part, though, with a heavy dark brown coat embroidered with copper-coloured thread and fastened with big, elaborately decorated metal buttons. His hair is cut short, though, and his face is almost clean shaven, aside from his impressive sideburns.

Van reads the floating text above the short man's head.

[Travelling Merchant] [Gavin Drakner] [Lvl. 25 Spy.]

… Huh.

"I'll pay you fair wages - I'll even throw in some gear, free of charge," says Gavin Drakner the spy and sticks out his hand. "What do you say - fancy a life on the road? Sword at your side, wind in your hair - there's nothing like it!"

"Hey, none of that," Mr. Gylcross says. "Van's contracted until the end of the harvest, and I need him. Those fields don't plough themselves!"

Drakner laughs. "With this one, I doubt you even need a horse - or the plough!" the man chortles and waves a hand disarmingly. "Ah, I'm just messing with you. Van, was it? Unusual name."

Yeah, well, the game wouldn't let Katie name him Brick Shithouse and naming her character Dump Truck just didn't appeal as much. So, Van - it sounded vaguely medieval, like, Van Gogh or Van Hoenheim or something.

… Actually, she almost named him Ice-Cream Van - she even picked him a hair that looked like caramel vanilla soft serve. It had amused her to no end, but in the end it's probably a good thing the name didn't stick.

The hair did, though.

"Well, if you ever need employment, big man, remember the name, Gavin Drakner!" the spy says, clapping Van on the lower arm - because he can't reach his shoulder. Then the man turns away. "Gylcross, good to see you, pleasure doing business…"

Mr. Gylcross parts ways with Drakner the Spy and turns to Van. "Now that that's over with, take the cart away - let's not get in people's way more than we have to, eh? I have some business to do in town, I shouldn't need you for a bit, so - here."

The man hands Van five round silver coins. 

[Quest Trip to Town, Lvl 2 complete! You gain 15 exp and 3 silver pieces!] [Quest Unload the Grain, Lvl. 1 complete! You gain 5 exp and 2 silver pieces!!]

Nice. Love it when quests stack.

"Advance on your salary," Mr. Gylcross says and winks, his moustache twitching. "Spend it wisely, my boy."

"Yes, sir," Van says, eying the worn coins in his wide palm. "I will, sir."

"Good, good," Mr. Gylcross nods. "I'll come get you once I need you. Now, off you go. Make sure Bell gets some rest."

"Yes, sir."

Van lets the autorun take care of the cart and horse, leading them to what looks a lot like a horse and cart parking lot behind the inn. After securing the cart and the horse and getting Bell some hay to munch the automation wears off and Van is left with five silver pieces and an existential crisis.

This dream has gone on for way too long, and it's way too elaborate, and he's going to freak out if he stops to think about it. 

So he's not going to think about it. 

Considering the silver pieces, Van closes his fingers around them and decides he's going to put this world to a test. It might not be allowed, the same as time skips weren't a thing, but… what would it hurt, to check it out?

-

The gold bar duplication glitch requires three things. One, a gold bar. Two, the fortune teller NPC. And three, a candlestick from the inn.

You set the candle stick on the fortune teller's desk just so that the flame hits the fortune teller's hand during certain animation. Then you select, [I would like to hear my fortune,] and try to pay with the gold bar. The fortune teller rejects the payment because for some reason fortune tellers just doesn't accept gold bullion, and, because aside from being the highest form of currency gold bar is also an item, an animation plays with the NPC handing the gold bar back. 

If her hand hits the candle flame while holding the gold bar, she will drop it. If you just happen to simultaneously have the shop menu open, and if you happen to accept the trade of one gold bar back on the exact moment the fortune teller drops the gold bar, well… you're left with two gold bars, one in your inventory and the other on the floor. 

And in game, you could go this as many times as you wanted, with the rate of about 4 gold bars per minute for a nice sum of 24 000 gold pieces per hour. Which bought you 24 Draught of Memory potions. Each of which boosted your exp gain by 300%.

Yeah, Van was almost a lvl. 100 right out of the tutorial.

The hardest part of using the glitch is turning five silver pieces into a gold bar. Sadly, there's no glitch for that - for that, you have to gamble.

In every inn of Age of Tales, there are three games you can play. One is a game that's basically Poker re-skinned and given as a new name - Vist. The second is a game of Yahtzee, though they just call it Dice. And last is Echo, which is basically just Memory. Each game is affected by different stats - Charisma and Intelligence help you with Vist, Luck helps you with Dice and Intelligence and Wisdom help you with Echo.

The trick is, having Wisdom above 10 gives you an auto buff during tasks that require concentration. It slows time for you. With high Wisdom and a good eye, you could easily win every round of Echo.

Van's Wisdom is technically above 10 - and Katie got pretty good at Echo, playing it for hours on end to get that one gold bar.

With that in mind, Van heads for the inn - and is nearly bowled over by the warm, smoky atmosphere and the smell of stew hanging thick in the air. The inn is much like the rest of the town of Westbrook, a near perfect copy from the game - but it's a whole different experience, seeing it through Van's eyes. The welcoming warmth and light, the atmosphere - the door he can only barely fit through…

In the game he's never hit his head on the door frame, but here he has to duck below it - only to then immediately bang his forehead on a ceiling beam.

"Ow - sonnofa-!"

"Oh, no - are you okay there, man?" the innkeeper calls, looking worried. "That was quite the resounding knock your noggin made there!"

"... Yeah," Van groans, rubbing at his head and checking his hand. No blood. "I'm alright."

"You want something to drink? I can bring you an ale."

"No, thank you, I'll just sit down for a moment," Van answers, rubbing his forehead and looking around. He has to slouch to keep his head from banging on every ceiling beam along the way - they're all on the exact height to, well, beam him right across the forehead. 

Van had felt big before, walking in the crowd, taller than anyone else - but now he feels uncomfortably big, too big for this space. It's like being in a miniature house or something - the tables are a bit too low and the chairs all look too small for him. It's kind of cool, though. 

And then Van finds what he's looking for.

"You want to play a game of chance, big man?" the hooded local gambler asks and motions to the chair across from them. "Please do take a seat."

[Lady Luck's Acolyte] [Kerly Accomo] [Lvl. 16 Gambler.]

Van sits. The chair creaks pitifully beneath his weight. "I'll try a game of Echo," he says, leaning his elbows carefully on the table between them. "I bet two silver coins."

"Very well," Accomo says and takes out a deck from a wide sleeve with flourish. "If you can beat me, you gain double your stake. If I beat you, you will lose your stake. That seems fair, yes?"

"Yeah," Van says and puts the coins on the table, sliding them over. 

There's every chance this wouldn't work. If this world is more realistic than the game, and it kind of looks like it is, then he doubts the gambler carries enough money to buy him a gold bar. Still… it could be that every shopkeeper has an endless sum of gold, just like in the game. He wouldn't know until he tried. So.

"Let's see what happens."

The gambler splits the deck to shuffle it, and there's a mission prompt.

[Game of Wit, Lvl. 1.] [You have been invited to play a game of cards. Win 10 games of Echo.] [Quest reward: 20 exp, 1 Lucky Playing Card.] [Accept?] [Yes.] [No.]

-

[<<Prologue | <Chapter 1 || Chapter 3>>]

Proofread by @nimadge, many thanks.

-

It's gonna be bit of a slow start, still getting my footing here

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Since you’ve talked about the secret between Adrien and Mari and how Adrien has no agency, back when the s5 bible leaked, there was a part where it said that „Adrien will never find out about his father being Hawkmoth“ or something like that.

Do you think the writers will actually stick with that rule? Because I just can‘t see how this is supposed to be narratively satisfying…

I have no idea and that's not a compliment. It's a condemnation. Adrien should absolutely find out about his father. The story isn't satisfying if he doesn't. But Miraculous doesn't seem to care about being satisfying. It cares about being shocking and that's a terrible thing. To explain why, let's talk about the topic of predictability in narratives and why it's generally a good thing.

We'll start with a quote from a famous George R.R. Martin interview where he perfectly explains why you want your stories to make logical sense with the final line of the quote being the most important part:

Before the Internet, one reader could guess the ending you wanna do for your novel, but the other 10.000 wouldn’t know anything and they would be surprised. However, now, those 10.000 people use the Internet and read the right theories. They say: “Oh God, the butler did it!”, to use an example of a mystery novel. Then, you think: “I have to change the ending! The maiden would be the criminal!” To my mind that way is a disaster because if you are doing well you work, the books are full of clues that point to the butler doing it and help you to figure up the butler did it, but if you change the ending to point the maiden, the clues make no sense anymore; they are wrong or are lies, and I am not a liar.

This is a writing rule that I believe in my soul, but that the Miraculous writers don't seem to care about. Miraculous will introduce things that should be important to the story, but they end up meaning nothing.

A great - and relevant - example of this is the Chat Blanc stuff. Chat Blanc comes near the end of season three, early season four sees Marinette have a nightmare about Chat Blanc, and late season four is all about Chat Noir feeling left out as Marinette trusts Alya over him. Many viewers looked at these story beats and went, "Oh, okay, so Chat Blanc is causing Marinette to push Chat Noir away. Got it." because it honestly was the only thing that made any sense.

But that's not what was going on. The official word is that Marinette was just stressed over her new role as the guardian even though nothing in the text really explains why that would strain her relationship with Chat Noir. It actively improves her relationship with Alya! Why wouldn't it do the same with her long-term partner? As we've discussed several times, he was fine with the status quo at the start of the season and didn't even ask for more responsibility until Kuro Neko so it's not like he was doing anything to stress her out until he randomly quit on her.

This begs the question: if Chat Blanc isn't haunting Marinette and Chat Noir isn't stressing her, then why doesn't she share things with Chat Noir? Why go with Alya when Alya's identity was revealed to the villain requiring Alya to go into "hiding" as Rena Furtive? There's really nothing in the text to answer those incredibly important questions. Question that are only incredibly important because the writers actively chose to have multiple episodes dedicated to Chat Noir feeling left out. Why that happened really isn't clear so there's also no clear resolution. What needs to change? No clue! Did that thing change? Once again, no clue! It's all set up with no pay off!

Or, at least, we don't get the kind of pay off you'd expect to see. Aka the big dramatic moment where Ladybug finally confesses what happened to her. Instead, Chat Blanc's big pay off is Adrien missing the season five fight because he just magically knows that Chat Blanc happened:

During the scene that leads to Adrien wearing the Alliance ring after being reticent to it, [the writers] say that they had a conflict when writing it as they had to find a way for Adrien to not become his superhero self, cataclysm the walls and go help his lady in Paris. The end result is that Adrien is reminded of the devastating effect of his power by the nightmare and would therefore do anything to avoid hurting people, and so he wears the ring. Mélanie says that he "could become Chat Blanc" and the others add that even though he does not remember and has never lived it, Chat Blanc still has an influence on his actions.

So Chat Blanc doesn't matter to the person who actually met him, but it does matter to the person who was Chat Blanc an alternate timeline even though this show has never once showed another akuma victim to be haunted by their akumatization. Does that make any sense? No, it's frustrating and confusing, but it does tell us the way these writers think and that insight doesn't bode well for Adrien learning the truth about his father. It's not enough for me to say with certainty that it will never happen, but I would not assume that it will happen. The show has an active pattern of avoiding these kinds of payoffs:

Example 1: Multiple Lila appearances had her claiming to be Ladybug's BFF and she was even interviewed for the Ladyblog based on this lie, but as soon as Alya learns Ladybug's identity, the show conveniently forgets about this ongoing lie because then Alya would be against Lila and the writers didn't want that.

Example 2: Marinette gave Alya the Fox without telling Chat Noir that they had a new full-time teammate, but Chat Noir never learns about this development. The most he gets is that Ladybug revealed her identity to someone, which is nowhere near as important as the Rena thing in terms of the ongoing fight against Paris' resident supervillain. The fact that Rena Rouge is now Rena Furtive is literally never revealed to him. He learns that she's active in the final fight, but the name change and her status are forever a secret. Alya being Rena Furtive also leads to nothing useful for the heroes. You could remove that from season four and it would play almost exactly the same same for a few minor tweaks.

Example 3: Luka learns Ladybug and Chat Noir's identities in Wishmaker, but this reveal is just used as an excuse to write Luka off the show in season five. The episode that gets him written off shows Monarch realizing that Luka knows the identities because of some mental connection that happens during akumatization. This is damning because Kagami was akumatized twice in season five (Perfection and Protection) and we later learn that Kagami learned Marinette's secret identity during Perfection, the first of the two episodes. In fact, Kagami learned the secret mere minutes before getting akumatized and she was akumatized because Marinette wasn't talking to her so Marinette being Ladybug should have been on her mind and yet Monarch didn't get so much as a hint of any of this!!!!!

That's not even getting into the issue of the fact that nothing in Perfection so much as hints that Kagami knows even though the episode is all about her relationship with Marinette or the issue of Marinette keeping her secret identity safe even though she was almost akumatized the freaking times! SOMEONE PLEASE MAKE IT MAKE SENSE!!! WHY IS IT WRITTEN LIKE THIS??? How is anyone supposed to follow such shitty lore? The audience can't text appropriately if they don't know what the stakes are.

So, yeah, I'd put a small amount of money on Adrien never learning because that would be way too satisfying and Miraculous hates being satisfying or logical. The times we do get big reveals are generally terrible like with freaking Andre the Ice Cream Man being the one to tell Adrien about Marinette's crush or Lila being outed because of a plan Sabrina and Marinette made up off screen or Adrien finding out about Chat Blanc because magic. Watch Andre the Ice Cream Man be the one to tell Adrien about his dad for some reason. Nothing would surprise me at this point.

[httpknjoon]

(re)starting over again | kth; 14

plot | Your four-year relationship with Taehyung was going well and strong. Until he was involved in a car accident, resulting to him losing some memories. By some, it means everything that happened five years ago. Things he remember? His friends, his bakeshop, and his ex girlfriend from the past. With that, you tried to keep up, restarting over again.

words | 4.9K+

genres | fluff, angst, amnesia au

pairing | taehyung x reader, hoseok x reader

note | *cue that tiktok sound* okay, guys. we're back. did you miss us? hi! I'm back with my monthly update 💀 I already outlined everything. there are six chapters left in this series (not including the drabbles). thank you so much for patiently staying around. i appreciate y'all a lot. let me know your thoughts, enjoy reading!

main masterlist | series masterlist

When did texting someone become so hard?

It has been exactly three days since Taehyung got to talk to you again. He offered to drive you home after your date failed to show up. You said yes. You two had a friendly conversation in his car. Like you were old friends, which you were. But were you? It’s complicated. For the first time in years, he heard your laugh and saw you smile just like in the photos he saw when cleaning up at your shared house. He remembered you waving at him with a soft smile on your lips before getting into your apartment building.

You also said you never changed your number and you would reach out. But he wants to update you about the small celebration the bakery will have later next week. He tried typing something but later erased it before he could even finish the first word. He doesn’t know what to type or how to begin a conversation. So he just typed a single character and hit the send button.

It was past six in the evening. You were already in your PJs after a long day at work. Treating yourself with dumplings and beef fried rice from the nearest Chinese restaurant in your area, you let yourself indulge while your favorite sitcom plays on your TV screen.

“You’re not easy-going, but you’re passionate, and that’s good. And when you get upset about the little things, I think that I’m pretty good about making you feel better about that. And that’s good too. So, they can say that you’re high maintenance, but it’s okay because I like…maintaining you.”

You found yourself pursing your lips when your favorite character said that line. It was one of the quotes that stays in the back of your head almost every time. You were about to reach for the remote control to play it back again. But your phone, which you set into silent mode an hour ago, vibrated. Your eyebrows shoot up as you read who sent you a message.

From Jung Hoseok

Hi, YN. I really regret missing our date last time. Would you be willing to give me another chance with a cup of coffee this Friday? I know a great cafe around the city 🙂

The day after he failed to show up at the restaurant, you woke up to a text message from Hoseok apologizing again. You reassured him that you understood and he promised to make it up to you. You didn’t really expect anything from that and thought that he would just pass by like your past dates that Martha set up. So seeing him reaching out again was unexpected.

You smiled as you typed a reply.

To Jung Hoseok

Will there be tea? I don’t drink coffee.

You see those three dots immediately popping in, indicating that he’s typing. So you quickly typed in a follow-up message.

To Jung Hoseok

Just kidding! I’m okay with Friday. Around 5 PM?

He was quick to reply,

From Jung Hoseok

Okay. Should I pick you up?

You thought you would just feel pressured if he picked you up at your home. So you just offered an alternative.

To Jung Hoseok

We can just meet there :) Just send me the cafe’s location.

From Jung Hoseok

[location pin] 

To Jung Hoseok

Thank you! See you this Friday then.

From Jung Hoseok

See you, YN!

That’s a date for Friday, which is a few days from now. Even though he reached out again, you thought of keeping your expectations low. Because it helps avoid disappointment. You probably learned after your last dates with those guys you met before.

You continued playing the episode you were watching. Not even five minutes later, your phone vibrated again. You thought Hoseok forgot something. But immediately after reading the contact name, you froze staring at your screen.

From Aaa Love

👋

Of course, you quickly recognized who it was. Suddenly, you felt a sense of nostalgia in your head after seeing that name for a long time. Years after keeping this contact hidden on your list, you totally forgot that you never changed his contact name even after the accident. You cannot even remember when you hid his name in your list. Maybe it was one of those nights you were drunk with friends and made some decisions.

Before replying, you renamed the contact.

To Kim Taehyung

Hi, Tae 🙂

While waiting for his reply, you recalled that night. You remembered feeling good entering your apartment even though your date didn’t show up. When Jisoo asked you how it went through a video chat, you said that the date didn’t happen.

“Then, why do you look happy?” she asked that time.

That’s when you snapped out of your daze, “D-Do I?”

“Yeah, you’ve been smiling ever since we got on this call.”

“Oh…” your lips formed a thin line before speaking again. “I… I saw an old friend in the same restaurant.”

The last time you and Jisoo really talked about Taehyung was still the time she showed up unexpectedly after her wedding. You cried, she cried.

“Really? Who?”

“Taehyung.”

You wait for her reaction and you gradually see her eyes widen.

“What? What is he doing there? Did you talk?” she asked with surprise in her tone.

“Apparently, he’s doing some business here. And yes, we talked. He offered to drive me home.” you shared.

“And?”

“It was nice.”

Your simple and short answer had Jisoo simply staring at you through the screen. It was like she was studying you. You knew she had a lot to say in her head based on her quiet reaction. But then, she just said,

“Okay.”

From Kim Taehyung

Hello, YN. Just making sure I have the right number here haha

Taehyung finally replied. You let the episode play in the background as you tap on your screen,

To Kim Taehyung

I told you I didn’t change it!

From Kim Taehyung

I know, I’m sorry hehe

Just by the text, you can imagine him awkwardly laughing as he says that. Before you can reply, another text popped in.

From Kim Taehyung

Btw the celebration will be in the bakeshop. Next Saturday, 2 PM.

From Kim Taehyung

It’s a late lunch event with friends and family. We’re hoping you can come 😊

Reading that, a smile formed on your lips. With you working at school, you are usually free on weekends. 

To Kim Taehyung

Will do!

“Can you put dinosaurs in it?”

“Of course, bud. Anything you like.”

Taehyung softly ruffled Jihoon’s hair, who remained focused on coloring his activity book. The little kid’s birthday is coming up soon and the preparations for it had begun. Since Jimin would be the one making the multi-layered birthday Jurassic-themed cake, Taehyung offered to make the cupcakes. 

A couple of toys, specifically, dinosaurs, are all over the table that Jihoon and Taehyung occupy. And ever since he arrived at the shop this morning, the kid kept talking about his favorite animal. Being the best uncle that he is, Taehyung listens while being quietly amazed by how much Jihoon knows about dinosaurs. 

“Ashley just sent a copy of the contract in our e-mail earlier. She wants us to review it first before finalizing.” Jimin spoke while placing an apple juice box on the table.

Jihoon scoots a little to accommodate his father sitting next to him. He stayed busy with his crayons. 

“Have you read it?” Jimin asked.

Taehyung shakes his head, “I haven’t. I think I left my phone on silent while doing those lemon tarts.”

“Well, I think you should read it. They put something they probably forgot to mention before.” his friend noted.

His eyebrows draw together before reaching for his phone. Taehyung immediately clicked on the file sent to him from Ashley. He carefully read word by word written in the document. He thought everything was already mentioned in their online meeting days after he went to Incheon. Until he read one of the sections of the contract.

Staffing Arrangements

The bakery agrees to temporarily assign one of its capable bakers to work at the restaurant in Incheon for four weeks, beginning on the first day of offering the pastries on the menu of the restaurant. During this time, the assigned baker will head pastry production, equip training for restaurant staff, and guarantee regular quality control. The restaurant agrees to cover the entrusted baker's salary, expenses, and even housing if demanded.

After pausing for a few seconds, Taehyung scanned his eyes all over that part again. Just to make sure he understood it right. He looked back up to Jimin, who had his arms crossed over his chest while waiting for a reaction from him.

“So?”

“This means one of us had to stay here while the other had to manage around in Incheon.”

September is usually dry and warmer in Incheon.

After living in this part of the country for around two years now, you already got better at predicting the weather and climate. But today, your predictions were proven wrong when you had to stay under a waiting shed while the harsh raindrops poured continuously. You were too confident that you left your umbrella at home.

4:12 PM

You looked down at your phone. It has been almost thirty minutes since you stood in this shed, waiting for your usual bus to arrive. But you don’t know why there have only been two buses that passed by. You were unable to get on any of those since both were packed, considering the unexpected rainfall. You tried booking a cab but there’s nothing around your area at the moment. Your friend, Aileen already left earlier with her husband while Martha offered to drive you home but you live almost twenty minutes away from her. So, you kindly rejected her offer. Again, you were too confident that you would be able to ride the bus quickly.

Puffing your cheeks, you began dialing someone’s number. He answered after the second ring.

“Hey, Hoseok…” you greeted.

He was quick to reply, “Hi, are you on your way? I’m driving to the cafe.”

“Yeah, uhm, I’m kinda running late for our date tonight.” you chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of your head. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, it’s okay. Everything alright?” 

“Haha, yeah. Just waiting for a bus to stop by here the school. It’s raining like crazy today.” you mentioned.

“Yeah, it is… you know, I can pick you up if you want to.” he offered.

Your eyebrows lifted, “Really?”

“Of course, YN.”

“Okay, thank you so much!” you smiled, finally.

“No worries. I’m on my way.”

“Okay, take care,” you said before ending the call.

With your plans of getting ready pre-date at your home canceled, you sat on one of the benches in the shed and touched up yourself quickly. You reapplied your lipstick with your front camera as your mirror. You ran your hand through the stubborn flyaways of your hair before tying it into the easiest half-up, half-down hairstyle you know. You’re still in your usual work clothes, a statement T-shirt (with a friendly and maybe corny quote written on it and jeans. Originally, you would wear something cuter. But this one will do. Even though the cool breeze makes you wish you wore something warmer too.

And less than five minutes later, a black Audi stops right in front of the stop. Your legs bounced restlessly. The windows were tinted dark so you cannot really see who’s inside. But the door on the other side of the car opened and there, you recognized the man from the pictures on Martha’s phone. Almost like sunshine, his smile as he made his way to you made you smile too. Your fidgeting legs had already calmed down as he stopped in front of you.

“YN?” He asked since this was the first time you two really saw each other.

You nodded, “Hi. You’re Hoseok, right?”

Although you were at ease with his arrival, there was still an awkward tension between you two. But it tones down when you two chuckled.

“Yes, nice to meet you.” he smiled again. He quickly noticed you hugging yourself. “It’s cold. How about let’s get you inside?”

“Sounds good.” you agreed.

Joining him under his transparent umbrella, your shoulders brushed against each other, and you could feel his warmth beside you. He opened the car door for you while ensuring no raindrop would touch your skin. You mumbled a small ‘thank you’ when you finally got to sit inside. You watched as he made his way back to the driver’s side of the car.

“Are you okay? Everything’s fine?” he asked immediately.

“Yeah, thank you again for picking me up,” you replied. 

“You’re welcome,” he replied before reaching for something from the backseat. 

Your eyes widened when you saw what it was. It was like your eyes sparkled as he handed you the small bouquet of yellow tulips, tied with a matching gold ribbon. 

“I’m really sorry for missing our date last time.” he apologized, watching you appreciate the flowers.

It has been so long since you received flowers. You cannot even remember when was the last time. So you cannot help but feel this funny feeling in your stomach while you look at the flowers. Especially since yellow tulips are your favorite.

“You didn’t have to. I understand why,” you spoke, tilting your head in his direction. Your voice was small and soft.

“Still, you waited for me alone in that restaurant. I cancelled last minute… Do you love it?”

“Of course, I love yellow tulips!” you exclaimed before taking in its subtle scent.

“I’m glad. I may or may not have asked Martha for help with those.” he chuckled.

Hoseok began driving while you find it more comfortable being around him. He has this infectious smile that brings more warmth in this rainy weather. It probably helps when he’s with patients.

“How long have you been waiting there?” he asked, starting up a conversation.

“Oh, you know, like half an hour.” you sneered at yourself. You hear him gasp. You chuckled, “To be fair, it is a rainy day. I can usually find a ride easily. I just didn’t expect that it would rain today.”

“It’s usually sunny at this time of the year,” he noted.

“It is. I was already waiting for the bus when the rain poured,” you told him. 

“I thought you and Martha usually go home together?” he asked, looking from the road to you for a quick second.

“Sometimes. But I feel bad for making her drive past her house for like twenty minutes,” you revealed. 

You tried offering to pay for her gas but she declined. Although she constantly assured you that it’s fine, you feel like an inconvenience, especially after a busy day at work. You are very aware it’s a you problem. But it’s just the way it is.

You shifted in your seat, “How about you? Did you have work today?”

He nods, “Ah, yes. I got off my shift earlier this day. Then went home to see my dog before dropping her off at my sister’s.”

“Oh, you have a dog?”

“Yeah, a senior dog but Mickey’s still the family’s baby.” he chuckled. “We take turns with her. Some days, she’s with me. Or my sister’s or my parents’.”

“So, you’re originally from here in Incheon?” you asked, curious when he mentioned his family.

He shakes his head, “No, we moved here when I was in high school. I left during college. Then, came back when I began working. I like staying close to my family. And you?”

“No, I moved here from Seoul two years ago.” you shared.

“And what about your family? They stayed there?” he asked.

“Nope, I’m an only child. My parents died years ago– Please, don’t say you’re sorry. It’s fine, it’s been so long.” you chuckled when you saw how his expression changed. “But I do have my Aunty Belle. She’s around the city too. She looked after me until I left to study in SNU.”

“You went to SNU too?” Hoseok exclaimed.

You beamed, “Yes– Wait, we’re here?”

He laughed, “Yeah.”

Distracted, you didn’t notice the car arriving in front of the cafe Hoseok talked about. He told you to wait for him, leaving the car with the umbrella. He opened the car door for you and helped you with the umbrella. He does the same thing when opening the cafe’s front door for you. And when a bell clangs when the door opens, you get reminded of your favorite bakeshop back in Seoul.

“I’ll be having iced americano and a slice of carrot cake. How ‘bout you?” Hoseok turned to you as you two stood in front of the staff.

“I’ll have green tea and banana muffins,” you answered.

After ordering, you two sat on one of the empty pearly white tables and chairs near the glass window while waiting. It was a well-lit place. It has a minimalist and clean aesthetic. Hoseok sat across you, tapping his fingers along to the music playing in the background.

“So, what made you agree to do this blind date?” you asked him.

“Well, I’ve been single for the last three months and I never really tried blind dating before so I said yes when Martha told me about you,” he answered.

“Well, I hope she said nice things.” you two chuckled.

“Don't worry, she did.” He assured you. “How about you?”

“Martha had been setting me up for blind dates these past few months because I’ve been single ever since I came here in Incheon. The last dates I went to were unsuccessful so she promised that this one was gonna be great. So I agreed for the last time.” you told him.

“And so far, how is this one going?” he asked cheekily.

You pretended to think for a second, humming as you rubbed your chin. He laughed.

“It’s going great. You get plus points for my favorite flowers.” you smiled.

“Even though I didn't show up last time?”

He seemed really apologetic about that. He brought it up again for the nth time even though you already told him countless times that it’s okay.

You puffed, “Hoseok, it's fine. I really do understand. I used to work at a hospital, things can get a little spontaneous. No worries about it.”

A staff member came with your orders. She carefully placed your drinks and food on your table. You can feel your shoulders relaxing as you feel the warmth of the tea on your tongue when you take a sip from the cup.

“How was it?”

You smiled, “Nice. Perfect for a rainy day. How did you find this place? I don't think I ever reached this part of the city.”

“This is the only open cafe I see whenever I get off from my shift very late at night. I love their coffee here.” 

You nodded while taking a bite from the banana muffin you ordered. And you quickly recognized its difference from your usual banana muffin. You look at Hoseok who's enjoying his cake.

“How was it?” he asked, pointing his fork at your muffins.

“This feels a little dry and the texture’s a bit rough,” you whispered, not really wanting the nice lady at the cashier to hear you.

You don't want to be critical. But you just got used to having a soft and fluffy banana muffin or even bread with the right amount of sweetness in it.

He leaned a bit forward, mirroring you, “Really?” 

“Yeah, seems like it had a lot of flour,” you added before offering him one of the muffins.

You watched him take a bite and chew on it. After gulping it down, you wait for his opinion.

“It is dry.” he nods before putting the muffin down. “You seem to know a lot about bread. Do you bake?”

No, but I know someone who put his heart out and is a perfectionist in baking.

Instead of saying that, you shake your head.

“Oh, no. But I do love a lot of bread and pastries. I just know friends who bake back in Seoul.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. We probably didn't get to discuss that in the meeting we had.” 

Taehyung, along with Jimin, sat at the same table since that morning. Jihoon’s mom already picked him up earlier and the shop was already sold out by 5 PM so they closed early. Now, they are just having a call with Ashley about the contract.

“So, it means that based here on the contract, you want one of us to stay there in Incheon to oversee the pastries.” Jimin clarified.

“Yes, we just want to make sure that the quality of the products will be the same as what you have there in Seoul. Also, we thought that it might be better for our crew members to personally learn about it from the baker himself.” Ashley explained through the call set in loudspeaker mode.

Jimin looked at Taehyung who nods with that. This time, Taehyung has a question.

“You said that there would be a salary?” 

“Yes. There would be a separate salary for the baker who will be staying here with us for four weeks. And since traveling from Seoul to Incheon can be a hassle, if you want to, we can also provide temporary accommodation with complete furniture. My husband runs a condominium business here so the accommodation would be on one of his buildings.”

Both of the men’s jaws dropped with that information. Their eyes were wide as they met each other's gaze. They definitely didn't expect that information from her. They were unaware of how rich she was. They just know that she runs a great restaurant in Incheon.

Jimin cleared his dry throat, “Okay, thank you for clarifying it. But we hope you can still wait before we sign the contract since me and my friend still have to talk about it.” 

“Sure, of course. Just reach out to us whatever your decision is.”

“Thank you. Have a great night.”

As soon as Jimin ended the call, the two exchanged looks.

“So?” Taehyung began.

Jimin shakes his head, “I can't. Jihoon just began going to school. You know what my co-parenting arrangements with his mom are.” 

Taehyung nods. After learning about Jihoon’s existence, Jimin wanted to make up for those years he missed. He was hands-on in everything that his son takes part in. He is also helping Jihoon’s mom in looking after him since she is currently working in a nine-to-five job.

“It's fine with me. I went on vacation there once. It's nice there. Plus, we can split the salary.” He commented. 

And he didn't really have any obligations here in Seoul. Unlike his best friend. It would be easier and better if he went. Jimin can manage the shop while taking care of Jihoon. Taehyung is flexible in working everywhere. 

“It would also be nice to stay in a new place.”

“No, but the living finances in Seoul are really more expensive than here.”

You don't sure how long has it been since you and Hoseok arrived here in the cafe. You already finished your tea while the ice on his drink has already melted. The only muffin left was half-eaten. The plate of his carrot cake was already on your after he let you finish it when he noticed that you liked it after giving you a taste.

“It is. That's also another reason why I came back here.” Hoseok exclaimed. “I can't stand living with another careless roommate again.”

You laughed when he referenced his bad roommate experience he told you earlier. Hoseok has been funny and nice ever since he picked you up today. He talked about Mickey, his life back in Seoul, and a little bit about his family.

“But you said you stayed in Seoul after graduating, right?” he recalled.

“Yes, I did.”

“How? Did you live alone?”

“At first, I became roommates with my best friend there, who’s also a nurse. That lasted for a couple of years... Then, I moved in with the guy I was dating at the time.” You told him.

“Like in his apartment?”

You shake your head, “We bought a house.”

His jaw dropped, “You bought a house? In Seoul?!”

“Yeah, we did some research and saved up for it starting from our first anniversary. Apparently, foreclosed properties are cheap there.” You shared it like a fact.

Taehyung was the first one to bring up the idea of living together a few weeks before your anniversary. After talking about it, you two did some research and went to a lot of open houses. Then, you found out about foreclosed properties. Taehyung and you looked in about four foreclosed houses before landing on the one you called home. 

“What happened to the house after you broke up?” He asked.

You purse your lips, “He's living in it. But we agreed to talk about it soon.”

How soon is soon though?

“So it was a good breakup?”

“Yeah. I guess so.” 

The last sentence was almost a whisper by the end. You cleared your throat as if something was stuck in it. It was your turn to ask.

“How about you? How was your last relationship?”

Hoseok leaned back on his chair, crossing his arm over his chest, “It was great for the most part. We’ve been together for only one year. I actually proposed to her.”

Your eyebrows scrunched together, “Really? What happened?”

“We had a lot of misunderstandings in the last months of our relationship. It can be about everything. But mostly, she gets mad whenever I have an emergency in the hospital and I understand that. So one day, we harshly broke up during a fight before I left for work.”

“So it's a bad breakup?” 

“Yeah, a bit bitter.” He sneered. “But at least I don't share any property with her.”

It was a teasing remark to lighten up the mood. You grimaced and rolled your eyes. He laughed.

“The lady was too kind to ask us to go,” you said as Hoseok drove.

The moment you and Hoseok realized that the rain had stopped and the sky was already dark, you two got up and left. Hoseok insisted on paying, even playfully threatening to throw your wallet away if you ever pulled it out of your pocket.

“I’m sure she doesn't mind. She gave us free cupcakes.” He replied, pointing to the box resting on your lap.

“Are you sure you don't want to take this?” you asked because he handed you the box as soon as the lady gave it.

“Yeah, just update me with your review about it. I'm interested to hear more about your thoughts.”

You bit your lip from hearing that, “Okay.”

After a few minutes of listening (and singing along) to songs that played in his stereo, you arrived in front of your building. Of course, Hoseok opened your door for you. He helped you with the bag you brought to school so you could carry the flowers and cupcakes.

“Should I help you to your apartment?” He asked while you slid your bag into your arm, struggling. 

You gave up, letting him take your bag and the cupcakes, “Okay. Come in.”

You opened the door to your building and led the way to the stairs. He assured you that he was okay as you kept on looking back at him. And when you unlocked your apartment, you turned around.

"Do you want to go inside? Water, juice, or anything to drink?” You offered before putting the things on the counter near your door.

He smiled, “It's fine, I can't stay for too long. My next shift is at nine. I just want to make sure you'll make it to your door without dropping any of those.”

You looked down at your watch, “Oh my god. It’s already past eight. You should go! I should've taken a cab.”

“YN, it's okay! It's still early.” he chuckled. “Plus, I had a really great time talking with you.”

Your stomach flutters, looking at him. You noticed the same smile you saw earlier.

“I hope this isn't the last time we'll go out.”

You nodded, “Of course. Martha did it right this time.”

“How about next weekend? Sunday?” he asked.

“Sure, I’ll be back from Seoul by then.” 

His eyebrows raised, “Really? I’m going to be in Seoul for a conference on Saturday. When are you coming there?”

“The same day! I’m going to visit some friends.”  

“Maybe we can go there in Seoul together? So you don't have to commute.” He offered.

“That sounds good!” You agreed before looking down at your watch again. “But I think you should go now. I know you still have to do stuff before going to work.”

“Okay. Let's just talk about it later.” 

“Okay. Thank you for the flowers and everything, Hoseok,” you state before leaning in to give a quick kiss on his cheek.

He smiles, “You're welcome, YN. Tonight was great.”

“Text me when you make it to the hospital. Drive safely! Good night.”  You said as he walked back.

“Good night, YN.” He waved before walking down the stairs.

You closed the door to your apartment before leaning your back on it, looking at the yellow tulips on the counter.

What a lovely night.

taglist rules

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[bandnerdlevel43]

Day Three- Reunion (Modern)

Lu Legend x Ravio (Ravioli) 

Summary: Ravio has been off on a business trip with Hilda for a month now, and Legend has been getting lonely. Now he's coming back- right on the day of the chain’s jazz band performance.

Word Count: 6,911 (This is a long one)

Warnings: If you read my first fic, you know I don’t swear but it’s there for the vibe; Legend has anxiety, Legend has a flashback in a flashback involving non graphic stab wounds and a reference to his dead uncle, improper use of a trumpet spit valve, Fable is a menace, Four has to deal with her, author has several agendas and she is pushing ALL of them today, fluff at the end, super über long fic

A/N (Please read this, it's important): I'm back! I procrastinated this one for way too long, but I finally finished it! I somehow also managed to finish day four and five before this one, so those will also be posted with this. Go check them out here and here!

…Anyways, it's time for me to come clean. I'm a band kid. And a proud one, too. I saw this post and went absolutely nuts, so of course I had to write about a jazz band au. Give the post some love (since op is inactive) because most of it was the basis for this au.

Important part: The last song they play in this fic is “Want You Gone” by the 8-Bit Big Band, feat. Benny Benack III, and I suggest you listen to it! The lyrics are hilarious but if you don’t listen to it before the fic itself you’ll get lost very easily. If you see any music words you’re unfamiliar with, either throw me an ask or you can look it up on your browser. Sorry for the long note; I hope you enjoy!

----

Good news: We’re on our way back! We’ll be home by the twenty-third.

We have a performance that day.

I won’t see you.

I can drop in. Don’t worry! We’ll make it, I promise.

Alright. Love you.

I love you too, Link.

“Texting your boyfriend?” Fable chirped.

Legend jumped, shielding his phone and glaring at his sister. “None of your business,” he spat.

Fable grinned, toying with the reed in her fingers. “You sure you don’t have that message memorized?”

“Shut up,” he hissed.

Wind blew into his trombone, imitating a wolf-whistle while wiggling his eyebrows. Legend snorted. “Real mature, Sailor.”

Sky paused the plucking of his bass’s strings, his eyes flicking from his tuner to Legend as his brows furrowed. “Isn’t he coming back today?”

“Yep,” Fable trilled gleefully. “And Legend is beside himself with lovesickness!”

“Fable!” Legend growled. Great goddesses, could she be any more insufferable?

Well, apparently she could. “His lonely heart, separated from his lover for what seemed like years,” she sighed, swooning dramatically. “Tonight they'll reunite in a passionate embrace, proclaiming their love to-”

Twilight appeared from behind her and swatted her upside the head. “Leave ‘im alone,” he chided. While Fable scampered away, giggling, he tossed a tiny bottle to Wind, who snatched it out of the air. “Slide grease.”

“Thanks, Rancher.” Wind saluted. 

“Anything you two need?” Twilight asked, looking at Sky and Legend. Both shook their heads. 

“Hey, Twilight!” Four sauntered up to the small gathering, tenor sax slung over his shoulder by the strap. “We need cork grease over here.” He blinked at Legend and pointed out needlessly, “Your face is red. You okay?”

Legend didn't think his face could heat any further. He was wrong. “I'm fine,” he muttered.

“He's just madly in love,” Wind said mischievously. Both Fable and Sky snickered. He glared at them, Sky in particular. I thought better of you, bird boy.

Four's lips twitched upwards in a smirk. “Ah. This is about Ravio.”

Legend dropped his head into his hands with a groan. Fable, for some bizarre reason that Legend couldn't place, thought this was hilarious, and cackled.

“Reign it in, loverboy.” Four leaned against the wall. “You still need to warm up, and no one likes to hold a cold hand.”

Legend kicked at his knee. “Watch it,” he threatened, “Or I'll make your lifespan as short as you are.”

A chorus of “oohs” sounded around the room. Four chuckled, patting him on the shoulder. “Cheer up. You'll get your kisses soon.”

Fable howled hysterically, slapping her thigh. Legend could feel how red his face was as Four ran through the smuggest scale he had ever heard. It wasn't even that witty, but Wind was still squeaking like a chipmunk, and of course Sky snorted. Twilight at least was trying his hardest to appear indifferent, but Legend knew how hard it was to keep one's composure when Fable leans on you for support while wheezing directly in your ear.

“Ledge!” Wars hollered from backstage. “Get your sorry backside over here; I want to run through this song with you.”

Legend aimed one last petty kick at Four before standing. He hefted his case and stomped off, pointedly ignoring the way Fable pretended to faint into a scandalized Twilight's arms, crying, “Save me, Mister Hero!”

That shook him more than he'd have liked to admit. He bit his tongue to keep from throttling Fable for making fun of Ravio. Well, even if she hadn't mocked him, he still would've done it. And she still would've deserved it.

Wars watched him approach, his expression neutral. Legend thrust open his case aggressively and jammed the various pieces together. His jaw was tense and he avoided Wars’ gaze.

“Careful,” his brother commented. “You'll scratch her.”

Legend exhaled a controlled breath and quelled the ache in his gut that shouldn't exist in the first place. He suffocated it with thoughts of flats and sharps, of staccatos and tenudos, of the cool metal on his lips and fingertips, and of the notes both painted on the page and burned into his very soul. It was a familiar ritual that helped ease a bit of himself into the music, breathing color into the diverse melodies, rhythms, and even his brothers. It never failed, even when Fable did it with him.

Until today.

Somehow, his thoughts still circled back to his blasted boyfriend. His cheery grin had that same brightness as the sheen on his trumpet. His eyes danced with the same mischief that Sky eased from his bass. His arms would envelop him, soothing in a way that reminded him of playing with his brothers and sister. His tears spoke the same words as an instrument in need of care: always frustrated with himself and never anyone else. His hands- they shook before adversity. Just how Legend's own trembled right then, his mind's eye suddenly brimming with images of hundreds of people, Ravio in the midst of them, staring unsympathetically as his fingers stuttered. 

Legend cursed, his hands dropping to his sides. He flattened himself against the wall, sinking to the floor. Hylia, he could already tell he was going to mess up badly.  He had practiced these songs with the others for weeks, and it was about to mean nothing. To make matters worse, he had a solo. Not any old solo, either, but an improvised solo. Improvising solos was nothing new to him. This stabbing pain was new. It twisted at his heart like a common school bully to a poor victim's shirt. Loneliness (And yes, Farore strike him down, but Fable was right. He was lonely.) had him at its mercy. And now, Ravio was so close. Legend was going to fumble the solo in front of him, and that fear alone blurred his thoughts until he couldn't discern one tangled bundle of nerves from another.

Wars sat down next to him. He laid a hand on Legend's shoulder and asked softly, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Legend shook his head hopelessly. There was nothing he could say that Fable hadn't said already. Besides, with how Wars fixed him with those knowing eyes, he understood better than Legend himself did.

“Breathe with me, alright?” Wars let go of his shoulder, hand gesturing to his chest. Legend didn't have much pride to lose, so he complied. When Wars' chest rose, he breathed in. When it sank, he breathed out. In, two, three, four. Hold… Out, two, three, four. It didn't take much time before Legend grew irritated, thinking that this was taking too long. His time would be better spent practicing! He should be tuning, warming up, looking over his music again, anything! Not some barely effective breathing exercise that his brother only did when Wind was having stage fright, or when Sky struggled through an asthma attack. Or when Wild had a particularly bad flashback. Or when Rulie awoke, screaming, from a nightmare. Did… Did he really look that bad? That distressed?

Wars lifted his trumpet to his lips. “Tune me.”

With that, the sound of the instrument filled the room. Wild’s snare hidden in the corner rattled in complaint. He forced himself to block it out and focus on the note as it wavered in his ears, settling on something just a little off. “Pull it out,” Legend said, nodding to the tuning slide.

Wars adjusted the slide, and the pitch dropped. Well, now it's flat, Legend thought irritably. He pointed upwards. This time, Wars shifted the position of his lips on the mouthpiece, which finally sharpened the tone enough to satisfy the two of them.

“Keep playing.” Legend lifted his own trumpet to his face. He played the same note until they matched, then tested a handful of notes that harmonized with his brother's. There was not a single sign of dissention between the two. What he would give to simplify his emotions like that. 

“Ready?” asked the man beside him. 

“As I'll ever be,” Legend mumbled.

Wars patted him on the back and helped him up. “Remember, it's just like any other performance,” he assured him. “Just keep playing, and you'll do great “

“Thanks,” Legend grunted. 

“Don't worry about it.” Wars smiled. “Let's run through the program. Start on my mark: one, two, ready…”

Wild, Flora, Time and Hyrule returned with dinner. Those who remained behind joined them to eat. The meal was quick, consisting of a tray of sandwiches and a bowl of salad. Legend didn't feel like eating. Everyone, including him, was eager to get back to practice, now as a full band, and they wasted no time in getting to it.

Rehearsal flew by uncomfortably fast. Everything went smoothly, if by smoothly, one meant “absolute disaster”. Oh, everyone else was fine. Legend made too many mistakes. This only gave Fable and Wind more ammo to torment him with, and only after a harsh reprimand from Wars did they stop. He wanted to feel grateful for his intervention, but the seed had already been planted. Now it was performance time, and he couldn't help the sudden panic that attacked him. He hyperventilated. His hands were clammy and they shook uncontrollably. Only Hyrule's calm comfort prevented him from losing control.

“Shhh,” Rulie whispered, rubbing his hands gently. “It'll be okay, Legend, I promise.”

“I can't do it,” he gasped, feeling lightheaded. “I can't go out there.”

“Yes, you can,” Rulie told him forcefully. “You're going out on that stage and you're going to sound amazing.”

“I'm going to mess up,” Legend said, his voice wobbling. “I'm going to ruin the whole performance in front of him-”

“No, you won't,” he interrupted. “And even if you did, his opinion of you won't change. Ravio loves you no matter what.”

Legend didn't respond. Rulie squeezed him in a quick hug and guided him to where the rest of the band waited. “Breathe,” he reminded him.

Time nodded at the two of them. He handed Rulie his bass guitar, who accepted it graciously. “Are you two boys ready?”

“Yup,” Rulie responded confidently.

Wild bared his teeth in a grin, twirling a drumstick in his fingers. “Let's light ‘em up, boys.”

Fable and Wind both whooped, each bodychecking Four. Legend swallowed hard.

With that, they walked onto the stage. Applause immediately assaulted his ears, causing him to wince. He squinted into the spotlights, their dazzling beams glaring daggers into his eyes.  He searched the crowd anxiously, his heart thumping when he couldn't find Ravio. He wanted to slap himself for that. His head yelled at him to just focus. 

Instinctively, he glanced at Rulie. The freckle-dotted face smiled encouragingly, mouthing, “You got this!”

He had to admit, that lifted his spirits, just a little. He took his place at his designated music stand and stared it down, scowling at each note.

“You better not ruin this,” Legend whispered menacingly.

Wars, who had just joined him at the stand, shot him a funny look. “What?”

“Not you,” Legend muttered.

Time stepped up to the microphone. He started his usual introduction, and the crowd quieted to hear his words. Legend hardly listened. His mind was on his sweaty palms. He wiped them on his pants with a soft curse. Did his own body think wringing itself dry of any liquid was going to help him? Brushing his hair out of his eyes also resulted in damp droplets on his fingertips.

“Ledge,” Wars said in a hushed tone, “stop chewing your lip.”

Legend wanted to punch him. He was only trying to help, though, which of course made him want to punch him more. Still, he restrained himself, both from hitting Wars and from giving into his anxious habits.

Cheering announced the end of Time's speech. The old man dipped his head and swept his arm, gesturing at Wild. Wild smiled broadly, raised his drumsticks, and hollered with his typical unhinged energy the usual countdown: “ONE, TWO! ONE, TWO, READY, GO!”

A snap of wood on snare and a plethora of clicks on the hi-hat cracked through the air. Sky plucked an upbeat rhythm on his bass. Hyrule and Wind joined next, hopping from high to low, up and down, badum, badum. Fable’s entrance infused the band with her bright, energetic spirit. She swung and leaped from note to note while the bass drum thrummed in Legend's chest. Fable climbed a scale and Four came in to support her. She hit the top, held it, and cued the rest of the band. Legend was unwillingly swept away by the current of music that was too fast, too quick.

And, of course, thoughts of Ravio came unbidden into his head.

“Do you remember when we first met?” Ravio murmured. “That day in the alley…”

Legend snorted. How could he forget? “Of course I remember.”

He let himself be twirled beneath his partner's arm before once again taking the lead. The two swayed in time with the music amidst the crowd of people, their movements not quite in sync compared to the others. Frankly, he was surprised how natural Ravio made it seem, considering how stiff Legend was. They'd made progress since their first time dancing, and although Legend kept tripping over himself in self-consciousness, they were doing fairly well. 

“All those cultists. You took them out so quickly!” Ravio chuckled. “I wasn't sure if I should've been more scared of you than them.”

“I was sloppy,” Legend muttered. “Too preoccupied with finally looking like the ‘good guy'.”

“Link, I thought I was going to die,” Ravio said seriously. “You were my practical knight in shining armor!”

“A lot of good that did me,” Legend grumbled.

“Hey!” Ravio laughed. “I'm not that bad, am I?”

“I-I didn't mean you,” he said awkwardly. 

“Oh.” Ravio deflated, hesitating. “...Yuga?”

Yuga. Yuga with a knife in his back, pinning him to the wall and tugging at his hair so his ear was to his mouth. He whispered threats while Link strained to breathe through the agony.

“You're not making it out of here alive, little hero,” he hissed. “Say hello to your uncle for me.”

Legend kicked and screamed against the memories. They were choking him, like Yuga all those years ago. The result? He only managed to squeeze out a pathetic handful of right notes. He hid behind Wars’ far more confident sound. Wars sensed what was wrong and covered for his sudden inability to read music.

The only note he really hit right was the last one. No style or soul went into it. He was having enough trouble staying within the key signature.

The audience applauded. Time acknowledged them with a hand.

Legend tugged at his suit. Had it always been this hot? He was overheating. And lightheaded. Was that normal?

“Ledge,” Wars hissed, shoving something cold into his hands. Legend blinked, dazed, at the object- a water bottle. “Water. Drink.”

He didn't have much else to do, so he obeyed. The freezing water was like ice down his throat, shocking him back to reality. He shook away the dizziness and drank more. It burned but was real.

“Breathe,” Wars reminded him for what must've been the fiftieth time that night. “Just hold on. Only two songs. You can do this. Just breathe.”

Why was everyone telling him to breathe? “I have to breathe to play my instrument,” he snarked. 

Wars raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Just like that.”

Before he could come up with a snappy retort, his eyes caught Fable slipping past. She avoided his eyes. Wild handed her his drumsticks and she sat at the drumset. Wild stood by the marimba, casually twirling the mallets in his fingers while Four set aside his tenor for a bari.

Legend paled. Oh. This one, he had forgotten.

This song relied heavily on trumpet to start the band. Fable had no sax to carry the melody.

“Relax,” Wars said sternly. “I'll be here, playing with you.”

Legend pursed his lips and shoved the water bottle back into his brother's hands.

Time finished stalling. It took Legend a moment to realize that Time was not, in fact, waiting for him. He watched for Wild’s, Fable's and Four's signals that they were ready. There was no screaming countdown to start them off this time.

Legend was alone.

He regretted giving Wars his water back. His mouth was dry again. He couldn't seem to swallow. He tried asking for it but the words died on his tongue.

All he had to do was put his lips to the mouthpiece and blow. Din! It shouldn't be this hard!

Twilight waited for him. He was relying on him to cue his part.

Rulie waited for him. His note was essential to harmonize with his counter melody.

Wars waited for him. He only expected him to endure through what little they had left.

“Fight it,” Wars murmured. “Don't let the fear win. You hear me, Link? Fight back.”

“Link? Link, fight it. Wake up!”

Legend gasped for air, greeted by the sight of Ravio's worried eyes fixed on his. Hands were cupping his face, steady and sure. Legend grasped their wrists by instinct, breathing heavily.

“Link, are you alright?” Ravio repeated anxiously. “Can you hear me?”

Legend's eyes darted across the crowded room with the urgency of a frightened prey animal, but when his eyes locked with Ravio's again, his heartbeat slowed. He nodded.

“Do you need some fresh air?” asked the Lolian.

“I- No, I'll be fine,” he said shakily. “Just a flashback.”

“Are you sure? Because we can leave if-”

“No, it's over,” Legend interrupted. “We're not leaving unless you want to.” He inhaled deeply, ignoring his trembling hands.

Suddenly, Ravio's arms were wrapped around him. Legend's breath hitched, his internal screams needlessly reminding him that they were in public!

Legend laughed nervously. “Is there, uh… a specific reason why we're so sentimental all of a sudden?” he coughed awkwardly.

Ravio didn't respond, at first. He buried his face in Legend's shoulder and hummed, “I'm just glad you're here.”

Oh. Well, that was no reason for his face to get so red, was it? So why was his heart beating so quickly? And why did he feel so unreasonably giddy?

Ravio gave him another squeeze before pulling away and continuing the dance. Legend somehow managed to stumble even more than before, but Ravio's bright laugh lightened his mood every time. He supposed this whole dancing thing wasn't too bad.

He was happy to be with Ravio, too.

“Fight it…”

Legend clenched and unclenched his hands. He placed his fingers on the buttons and lips to the mouthpiece. He took one shuddering breath, pouring all he had into his trumpet- all his terror and loneliness and inadequacy. 

What rang out over the stage was a soft, mellow E flat. A single-toned lament. It resonated within his bell before slipping away, eluding his grasp like a hushed whisper of wind.

I miss you, Rav.

It was only when he released the note that he realized that no one else came in. His gaze flitted to Wars. The zeal he found startled him.

“Yes!” Wars’ eyes shimmered with enthusiasm and pride. “Again- C'mon, Legend, you can do it!”

Legend didn't give himself time to think. He hurled himself down the metaphorical leap of faith and howled into the trumpet. 

His brothers answered his call. 

Twilight hummed back, achingly familiar in its mournful cry. Hyrule took on the same tone, grasping it effortlessly but gently, like one would handle an injured animal. Wind's response was frustrated, like him. It was as much of a duet of music as it was a duet of feeling.

Legend released the note, and breathed. He sunk into the hopeful interlude led by Wild and Four. It felt much more real than himself. The sound wound its way into his ears and eased out a puff of air he hadn't realized he had been holding. 

It was startling, realizing that they were all mimicking what he had put into that note. Could it be that he was that obvious that he was pining? Four was the one who had made fun of him earlier. Yet here he was, weaving soft arpeggios of warmth and comfort. What was going on?

Wars poked him, jarring him from his reverie. “The Sailor’s trying to talk to you.”

Legend raised his eyebrows and shot a flat look the trombonist’s way. Really? the look said. In the middle of a performance?

There was a mischievous glint in Wind's eyes. “Solo battle?” he signed.

Legend almost laughed. Keyword: almost. “You mean a call-and-response duet?” he signed back.

“Whatever.” Wind rolled his eyes. “Are you in or not?”

Legend's eyebrows probably joined with his hairline then. “Isn't that in, like, three measures? Are you stupid?”

Wind flipped him off and stuck out his tongue. 

Oh, this twerp was going down. 

Fable jumped into action. Suddenly, the beat was moving at a relentless pace. The marimba perfectly channeled the devious smirk Wind carried. Legend found himself relishing the music again, tapping his foot along with Four's raw power. He bobbed his head in time with the vibrations he felt in his feet, most of which blasted from Time's guitar. He tossed the theme to Wars, who passed it to Four, who handed it to Wind, who promptly threw it to the floor and ground it into dust, laughing exhiliratedly. Normally, the rest of the band had to reel the dynamic in so the soloist could be heard, but most soloists weren't attention hogs like Wind. He would be heard, whether the audience liked it or not.

The Sailor moved with his solo. He tilted left and right, he stuck his slide into the air, and he bounced with each boom of the bass drum. Frankly, the drama of it all was rather obnoxious. It only charged Legend's eagerness to challenge him. There may be no winner in a solo battle, but he was determined to thoroughly beat Wind's ego into the dirt.

Legend waited for the perfect moment. He lifted his trumpet. He eyed the smug sailor out of the corner of his vision, a hint of warning in his posture. Secretly, though, he was excited to see the looks on the band's faces when he came in.

Now!

A visceral growl emitted from his instrument. Wind's head whipped around to face Legend, looking mildly offended. He barely restrained himself from snickering as the boy put a hand on his hip with an expression that looked hilariously reminiscent of Tetra's own pout.

As for the rest of the band… they were surprised, to say the least. Flabbergasted, as Ravio might've put it. Wind was given a fixed number of measures for his solos, and Legend cutting him off most definitely shook them. Four, the ever-reliable musician he was, was the first to regain his senses and improvise a good “backing track” for the others. Wars was ecstatic, and only Legend's lingering self-consciousness kept him from turning around and blasting in his ear. 

“I was just about- You interrupted me!” Wind pretended to look outraged, but frankly, he looked more like an indignant gerbil than anything else.

Legend shrugged. Wind puffed out his cheeks. It only encouraged the rodent illusion, which just added to the growing list of infinitely hilarious things that shouldn't be funny; what was he thinking? Goddesses, what was he doing? He shouldn't be stealing Wind's solo, he was going to make it worse, he was going to ruin it for the kid-

He stumbled. 

His blood had never drained so quickly from his face before. He scrambled to find a note that sounded right. Nothing sounded right! Why couldn't he do anything right? Why-

…Wind was covering for him. He covered up his mistakes by one-upping him, because that's how their solo battles went. Constantly improving on the last turn. Disguising his slip-ups by being better than him, all while pretending that was the plan all along.

Wars leaned over. He chuckled in amusement. “Are you going to just take that, Ledge? Gonna let him win?”

Legend snorted. “You wish this was your solo, pretty boy.”

He let the sailor have his little moment. Let him have his sly smirk and the roaring crowd, because while he practically owed the kid his kidney for saving him like that, it didn't mean he got to keep the spotlight. Even if it meant he had to strangle the butterflies in his stomach to keep them quiet, he would play.

Legend drew in a breath and blasted out the next note. Wind scoffed out a single “Dude!” but Legend overpowered that as well. He pouted again, and, to Legend's surprise, tried to play over him. Though, not really- he was harmonizing with him, forcing the dynamic up or down, and mixing his own energy in, one that Legend could not hope to synthesize. Not that he wanted to. It was a brattish energy, anyway. 

Four was getting louder. He was adding tension, and sending a message to the two of them: their time was coming to a close.

Wind heard it, loud and clear. He pushed against Legend’s melody. Part of him screamed at him to let him have control, to give him the finale, but his pride refused. He stood like a wall before Wind’s grabs at the spotlight. He had glissandos, grace notes, and pitch bends, but so did any half-decent trombone player. Not only could Legend do the same, he also knew exactly how to prod him where it hurt.

Let’s see how high you can go, sailor.

He blocked out the smithy’s warnings and began baiting Wind into a climb. He fell for it, hook line and sinker. B flat? Easy! C sharp? What a joke! He didn’t suspect a thing.

It was when they started to reach the higher portions of the scale that Legend detected some strain in Wind’s tone. He pushed higher. E. Running out of time, said Four. F, A flat. Wind didn’t follow. With a soaring sense of exhilaration, Legend landed the final high B flat. It was an easy victory, but a victory nonetheless.

At least, it was, until Wind hit an entire note higher.

Legend gawked at the cackling sailor. It was too late to make a comeback, the rest of the band had already moved on. Legend rolled his eyes. Just like him to get the last word. He had to laugh, though. Wind looked so proud of himself.

“Bet you aren’t thinking about your boyfriend now, huh?” he gloated.

Legend blinked. Had- Had that all been some grand scheme to get his confidence back? That rat! “I’ll think about wringing your neck!” he retorted angrily.

Unfortunately, he was right. Legend hardly felt any anxiety. Mental note: strangle him when we finish here.

It didn’t take long before the song was over and Wind was bowing theatrically. Legend was out of breath, dehydrated, and on the border of passing out, but he loved it. He felt alive again. He accepted Wars’ water bottle again. He practically emptied it, for how parched his lips were.

“Chapstick?” Wars offered, holding out a stick of his favorite brand.

Legend wrinkled his nose at it. “I’m not touching anything that has been anywhere near your lips.”

“What, like my water bottle?” Wars challenged lightly, waving the chapstick in his face.

“Fine. Gimme that,” he muttered, snatching the small tube from his brother’s fingers. He applied it as quickly as possible before shoving it back in its owner’s hands. He would never admit how useful it was, especially after so long arguing that it was for girls.

He only wished there was such a simple remedy for the ache that was beginning to form around his cheeks. That solo had really taken a toll on his embourchure.

Legend rubbed his face while Four walked by. The smith paused by him, his reddish-brown irises tinged by… guilt? Legend narrowed his eyes.

“That was a good solo back there,” he murmured. “You think you’ll be all right for this one?”

“I’m fine. Why do you care?” Legend responded tightly.

“Hey, look, I’m… I’m sorry. For teasing you.” Four winced. “I should’ve seen how badly it was affecting you. You’ll do great, okay? I mean, if I were Ravio, I’d be impressed regardless, but I know that’s not the reassurance you’re looking for.” 

Legend raised his eyebrows. An apology from the smithy? He knew it was bad, but not that bad.

…No, he shouldn’t make light of it, especially with how seriously Four was taking it. Or how seriously he took it, before the performance. That wasn’t fair.

“It’s not important,” Legend sighed. “I should be the one wishing you good luck. You’re singing.”

“Ha. So I take it we’re even now?” He held out his hand to shake. Legend took it, suppressing a smile.

“Thanks. Now, get lost, Sinatra,” Legend said.

Four chuckled and shook his head. He made his way to the piano just as Time finished up. Fable back on the sax and Wild on the drums, he raised his hand to cue the song.

He dropped it for the last time.

Wild tapped a smooth, bouncy beat on his hi-hat. Fable followed along, surprisingly mild for someone of her disposition. He’d never heard her handle the melody so… gently, before. Usually only Four had that kind of grace with the saxophone. Speaking of Four, the twinkling, playful piano notes complimented that laid-back style very nicely. Legend inserted his cup mute into his bell with a sort of contentment he hadn’t felt since Ravio left.

He had forgotten what it was like to actually enjoy music.

Four’s voice was glad to show him how much he had missed. If Wild and Fable were smooth, the smithy’s voice was like the outside of a fresh apple, ripe and shiny with morning dew. Warm, too, like pie crust.

Legend couldn’t wait to share another apple pie with Ravio.

“Well, here we are again

It’s always such a pleasure…”

Of course, this song wasn’t exactly meant to be cozy and reassuring. Legend was just getting restless.

Wind and Twilight, crescendo with a forte-piano.

An ebb and flow in Fable’s dynamic. Grow, pull back.

Wars counting rests under his breath. Legend felt an itch on the back of his neck. He was impatient, and his constant counting didn’t help.

“Oh, how we laughed and laughed!

Except I wasn't laughing…”

Legend could hear Four's smile. He loved this song. 

Soft falls muted by the cups in their trumpets. Mischievous, like a cat leaping nimbly from one bookshelf to the next. Or like the sailor, sneaking sweets from Legend's stash.

“You want your freedom, take it!

That's what I'm counting on!”

Wind crept into the lead, swaying from one note to the next gracefully. He treated the song like a waltz, but exaggerated comedically in its romance. Ravio swooning dramatically came to mind.

“I used to want you dead, but now I only want you gone!”

The whole band swung into action. Wild slammed on the snares, Fable sang into her sax with a dramatic volume worthy of Wind’s pride while the brass accented the offbeats, finishing with a flourishing trill.

The dynamic dropped. Four retained his eagerness, sounding just as smugly joyful as ever. The sax followed his lead.

“She was a lot like you-”

He chuckled. “Well, maybe not quite as heavy!”

That was Wind's favorite part. It took a considerable amount of effort not to snicker at the combined force of the lyric and the smithy's delivery.

Another band-wide crescendo, led by trumpets. Glittering piano notes followed, dancing daintily in Legend's ears. 

“One day they woke me up

So I could live forever

It's such a shame the same could never happen to you!”

Four's voice swelled brightly, leading the band from a mezzo-piano to a forte. Fable acted like this was her solo, announcing her counter melody to the whole audience. Wild mimicked the accents Wars and Legend made with a crash on the cymbals. He was having just as much fun as Four was. 

“I'll let you get right to it-

Now I only want you gone!”

The rest of the band dropped away, allowing the piano and the drums to lead as Four began his monologue. Legend bit his lip. His solo was just around the corner. He grabbed Wars’ water bottle again and stole a quick sip. 

At Four's “Take it away!”, his brothers took the lead. 

Legend hardly paid attention to the rise in energy. This was it. He promised Ravio a good show. After that trick Wind played on him back in the last song, he intended to follow through. 

Here!

He climbed into his solo. He imitated Four's languid ease with Wind's cocky eagerness to show off in the little slurs and tremolos he slipped into the solo. His heart pounded viciously against his chest. He went from note to note with little flourishes that were subtle but painted with just enough color to give it life. Thank Farore for Sky's bass, keeping him in time while his fingers itched to go faster than he had the ability to. But he kept it smooth and lilting as he repeated the melody of the chorus-

And just like that, it was over. His solo, finished. Audience clapping excitedly at the performance. Fable easing the band into a soft dynamic before dropping away completely. Before he knew it, Sky was playing his own solo while Four sang along:

“Goodbye my only friend…

Oh, ha, did you think I meant you?

This song really fit Four, Legend thought vaguely. Quick-witted, mischievous, and laid-back. Maybe  even a little arrogant. 

Had he really just done that? Had he really just pulled off that solo like it was just an everyday warm up scale, after all his anxiety just put him through? He snorted softly with incredulous indignance. 

It shouldn't have been that easy. But it was.

Wild's cue! Legend snapped dizzily back to attention. Neither he nor Wars were coming in any time soon, but he had to be ready. He listened in on Wars’ counting and quickly found his spot in the rest.

“Well, you have been replaced

I don't need anyone now…”

Again, Fable’s time to shine. Crescendo. Getting bigger, louder louder louder, play, support Fable, louder louder, howl out your part until you're faint from using too much air. Legend's lungs felt ready to burst, his lips burned. 

“Go make some new disaster!

That's what I'm countin’ on!”

He could do it. He could reach the end of the song. The light was at the end of the tunnel. The light was in his eyes, he had shifted too far to the left and now a spotlight was beaming directly into them, he kept playing.

“You're someone else's problem; now I only want you gone!”

Keep playing, it's almost done, just two more lines and he could see Ravio-

“Now I only want you gone!”

Ravio, had he seen the solo? Was he even here yet?

“Now I only want you gone!”

Focus, finish off strong.

“Now I only want you gone-!”

Four sustaining the note, steady, swing into the accent, hold hold hold, drop down low-

“I want you gone!”

With that, the band pulled back, Wars finished the song with a flaunting swing and grace note, Wild thumped his bass.

Done. Finished. Over. No more. He finished the song, and he hadn't messed up.

And the crowd went wild. 

Time bowed. He gestured to the soloists- him and Sky and Four. They dipped their heads, Four with significantly less humility. Legend licked his lips as he stared at his feet. He felt like he had just run a marathon.

A poke on his shoulder. Legend straightened his back. He followed Wars' outstretched finger, past Time's hand showing him off as a soloist, and- oh.

There he was. Standing in the middle of the audience, clapping his hands eagerly. His adoptive sister was beside him, but Legend's eyes never left the man for a second.

“Ravio,” he whispered.

He moved without thinking. He pushed his trumpet into his brother's hands. Wars gawked as he leaped off the stage and into the rows of chairs. Heart racing so quickly he feared it might escape, he ran up the aisle. 

There he was. Right there, grinning from ear to ear, calling out his name with a voice too soft to be heard over the crowd. Goddess d— him. That insufferable smile. It had no right to make him feel this way. So unfairly happy.

The rest was a blur. Ravio wrestled his way to the aisle, Legend only increased his breakneck pace; Ravio beamed, laughing his name, and they collided.

Ravio's arms squeezed him tight, twirling him around like the couples in those cheesy romance movies. Even as his feet planted on the ground, Legend didn't want to let go. He wanted to make sure this stupid rabbit never left his sight again.

Ravio pulled away, holding his face with the gentlest hands, grinning through teary eyes. “I take it you missed me, Mister Hero?” he chuckled.

By the Three, now he was crying. “Of course I missed you, you idiot!” he choked out.

“I missed you too,” Ravio breathed. 

He leaned forward and the last bit of Legend's restraint crumbled. His lips crashed against Ravio's before he could draw out the moment any longer, his hand reaching to tangle with his partner's smooth, inky locks. Ravio let out a tiny squeak of surprise before leaning into the kiss.

Legend's lips buzzed; he couldn't tell if the sensation came from his trumpet or Ravio. He couldn't care less. His mind was on Ravio's soft hands, on his tender touch, on the ghost of a smile he could feel through the kiss. 

Legend's heart had climbed up his throat by the time it was over. He noted vaguely that the audience was roaring and clapping, and that Fable's voice boomed over the speakers, hollering, “That's my brother!” Meanwhile, he couldn't decide whether to punch Ravio or let the tears flow. He swallowed hard, his eyes locking on Ravio's rupee-green ones.

“You kiss like you've been playing trumpet for an hour,” he teased.

Legend's face flushed red. “Shut up,” he grumbled.

“Aw, I didn't mean it,” he giggled, squishing him in another hug. “I just missed seeing your grumpy face.”

“You're the worst.”

“Don't get too sappy, you two.” Legend whipped around, greeted by Ravio's boss herself. Hilda, with a cocked eyebrow and folded arms, dressed in a blazer and skirt not unlike Fable's slightly more masculine suit. Her violet-painted lips twitched upwards in amusement. “You'll make the audience gag on their lunches.”

“I think I'm gagging on my lunch,” Legend complained.

Ravio gasped in mock offense, but Hilda shrugged. “Your sister does seem to be enjoying this…”

Legend glanced over at the stage and groaned. Of course she was. Of course she was hopping up and down in ecstasy, shaking poor, helpless Four back and forth while screaming with Wind. Of course she had to rope Sky and Wars into it- and was that Rulie cheering with them? Well, now Legend felt extra betrayed.

Warm fingers lacing with his drew his attention back to his partner. Ravio squeezed his hand and smiled. Legend had to wrestle his own into a disapproving scowl before he could see it.

“What do you say we put your trumpet away and go out for dinner?” he proposed. “That way we could get some time alone to relax and catch up some way other than over text?”

Legend folded his arms. “So, you expect me to forgive you, just like that? After being gone so long?”

Ravio laughed nervously. “If you wouldn't mind?”

“I suppose I can give you another chance,” he muttered. “And I'm paying. Yes, Hilda, I know you paid for everything back there.” He waved dismissively, then eyed Ravio out of the corner of his eye. “I'll let him hold on to his rupees just this once. Now excuse me while I go murder my sister.”

He dipped his head politely to the businesswoman before dashing off to the stage. He leaped up, much to Wind's delight and Time's resigned disappointment, and jabbed a finger at Fable. She squealed and hid behind Four, who sighed and stepped aside. 

“You!” Legend barked. “Get over here before I break your reeds!”

Fable gaped dramatically. “You wouldn't!”

“I will!”

“Whoa there, Ledge,” Wars said lightly. “Save the death threats for when the instruments are away, hm?”

Legend sniffed, swiping his trumpet from his hands and not-so-subtly emptying his spit valve on his foot. Wars yelped and jumped hilariously. “Legend!” he swore. “That's disgusting!”

“I bet it tastes like your lipstick,” he snarked.

Fable snickered. Legend brandished his trumpet threateningly and said, “What, you want some too?”

His sister screeched and ran off backstage. Legend made to pursue her, but Twilight gave him a look. He wrinkled his nose and dusted off his suit. She wasn't worth the trouble, anyway. 

He decided to make his way offstage to delicately take apart his instrument. He had a date to prepare for! Fable could wait.

Besides, he had plenty of time to daydream of revenge on the way out.

Legend grinned devilishly. She won't know what hit her.

He left the building whistling cheerfully.

----

A/N: Thank you for reading, but I do have to add a disclaimer. Please, please, please do not jump off a stage like Legend did. The last time someone did that at my school, they broke their ankle. I repeat, do not jump off a stage. 

Take care, all of you! ❤���

[bluegoblinzz]

Clouds Fill the Mind of the Drone

The room was cramped. Every wall was black and shiny, and the ceiling was low, and the room, for a moment was only lit by a set of square lights on the perimeter of the room. They were the kinds of lights you’d see lining the aisles at a movie theater, but they were a bright white instead of a dim red. I tried to stand, but cold metal pressed against my wrists, holding me back. I shuddered, and I felt a pit in my stomach. I wanted to scream, to shout for help, but I knew whoever my captors were would have none of that. So instead, I shut my eyes and told myself I would be okay… my roommate would realize I’m missing and call someone… I would be found. 

I looked around, trying to calm myself, to ground myself. I tried to observe where I was but not dwell upon why I was there, yet…

Five things you can see…

I can see… a table.

On the table is… a really old computer. Holy fuck that thing is a dinosaur, it’s cube shaped.

And I see… my chair… it’s metal. 

I see… my cuffs attached to the chair… they have a blinking light. Damn, if they can invest in futuristic handcuffs and fancy lights, you’d think the would at least get a new computer. 

And I see… My old sneakers, that I’m wearing. 

I took in a deep breath and shut my eyes. 

Four things I can hear…

…I can only hear my breath…

..also I can hear my heartbeat in my ears… 

… and-

CLICK!

The silence was broken by a loud sharp click, which made me flinch. When I opened my eyes, I saw the screen of the old computer had lit, up, and then went dark. In the middle of a black screen, bright white text appeared in blocky letters.  

‘PRESS ANY KEY TO CONTINUE’

Right when I read those words, the lights on my handcuffs turned green and the cuffs opened up. I stared at the old screen for a moment, taking a deep breath inward before pressing the space key on the keyboard. The entire screen lit up white, and there was a hiss as white noise came from the speakers on either side. Happy cheesy piano music played through the muffled crackling speakers, and a logo appeared on screen. The logo was of the stock cloud image, the one with the three puffs, but it was angular, where each puff was a trapezoid, and the logo was a deep indigo. 

“Hello, and thank you for joining Cumulus,” An enthusiastic female voice spoke. It was muffled and garbled as well. A scene faded into focus on the screen. The screen was fuzzy and the color contrast and lighting were off, too warm. The scene was of a white middle class cishet couple sitting at a breakfast table. The overall enthusiasm of the video, combined with the low quality computer combined with my disposition… It made me feel nauseous. I wondered what I had gotten myself into. 

“Here at Cumulus we are committed to making communities around us are safe, and making work run quicker!” And this was where the video went from weird to frightening. There was a big tall person in a black shiny suit. Or at least I think it was a suit. They were covered head to toe so I couldn't tell if it was a person, but if it were a robot then it would be way too high tech. Well, whatever this… figure was, it had a broad stature and was very muscular. Bright blue lines ran up and down the suit, from its boots, up its torso, and around its arms. On the center of its chest were a set of blue letters and numbers. It said “CC-552”  There was some kind of metallic pack on the back with two tubes that connected to the helm…

And the helm was the strangest part… the eyes were covered with some glowing screen that looked somewhat like ski-goggles… There were two big triangular points on top of the head, which I couldn’t tell if they were supposed to be ears or horns. And where there was supposed to be a nose a and mouth, there was a vague square bump that looked like it could have been the snout of a bull, or some kind of lizard? The muzzle of some animal, is all I could tell. That was where the two tubes connected to. 

… Oh and the suit also had a tail because it couldn’t be weird enough!

Anyway, this thing, whatever it was, put a platter of pancakes on the table. The man sitting  at the table smiled and nodded, and the thing saluted back, and moved stiffly and robotically back to the kitchen counter. The camera dollied out until it was outside of the house, outside of the window looking in at the scene, and soon, the couple was out of view, and another similar suit stood guard with a gun outside the door. The mask here was much more clearly dog-like, the rubber muzzle coming into a point. Except, the lines and numbers on this suit were lime green instead of blue. The numbers on its chest were “GD-001”

  “Our mission is to make life easier and to make everyone happier.” The scene changed; it showed one cat suit manning the counter at some fast-food restaurant, wearing a polo shirt, shorts, and a cap with the fastfood logo on it. Off to the side, another bull suit with the same uniform played with a claw machine, took the toy out of it, and handed it to a child, who jumped for joy when she received her new unicorn toy.

“And we can’t thank YOU enough for helping contribute to that!” The shot there was of four of these suits. Two of them had arms around each other, and all of them either waved to the camera, or held up peace signs.

“So, what do you need to do to join the family? How do YOU get started?” A graphic of a stick figure in a box in front of a computer appeared on screen. 

“Once this video is done, you will have access to the changing room. In there, you change into your uniform.” The stick figure hopped into a second box, and then was replaced by the outline of an anthropomorphic bull.

“Then in the next room, you can gain your visor, batteries, and other implements, to fully become one of our state of the art drones.”  A chill went down my spine, and I felt my breath get stuck in my lungs.

Drones, I thought, that’s what those were… and that’s what they’ll make me. 

“After that, you will have a chat with one of our seasoned employees about any questions you may have working here.” The anthropomorphic bull figure sat at a table in front of another anthropomorphic animal.

‘How do I get out of here?’ was the only question I had, but I had a feeling whoever was there wouldn’t have an answer for me. 

“And in the final room, you begin your programming.”  The little figure hopped into one last box, where it lied down and was overlayed with a spiral. I told myself I wouldn’t go into that room. 

“Take all the time you need growing accustomed to being a drone, but for your own safety and health, please do not wait too long. Thank you for volunteering, and we hope you enjoy working at Cumulus!” The cheesy piano music abruptly came to a stop and the screen went black. 

“Volunteered,” I muttered sarcastically. At that point i was beyond panic; i was completely removed from reality. My chest felt tight and I still felt shaky, but emotionally I felt nothing. My thoughts went from ‘this can’t be happening’ to ‘this isn’t happening. How could it?’ And I believed them. 

A beep and another click made me flinch again, and when I looked down, I noticed the cuffs around my ankles were undone, the lights on them going green as well. To my left: the wall slid upward soundlessly, revealing a brighter room lined with black UV lights. This room was larger, and the ceiling was higher. The walls and ceilings were black the lights revealed zigzagging fluorescent lines on the walls, and blue fluorescent lights on the ground. At the end of the room was a big rubber suit hung on the wall.  Below it were a pair of rubber boots and a helm. The black rubber had an especially shiny coating to it, a thin silvery finish, as if the rubber had been UV coated. There were purple fluorescent markings on the suit as well, with a purple logo of the angular cloud on one shoulder, and big purple numbers written across the chest: “AQ-320.” I walked up to the suit and stared at it… it was mine, they made it for me… 

“I don’t… need to put it on,” I told myself, “They can’t make me.”

But then my heart sank as I had a realization: they had said: “for your own safety and health, please do not wait too long.” They weren’t going to do anything until I put the suit on. My choices were either to comply or to starve. I know a lot of people say that they wish to “die with dignity,” or go by that old phrase “give me liberty or give me death,” but I knew I was weak, and wasn’t ready to die. I could not be a martyr, I’d rather be a drone. 

I changed into the spandex pants. They were especially snug, and there were soft rubber pads all along the outside that made the suit look muscular. Whoever designed this probably did it to intimidate ordinary people, to make them think we’re stronger than we actually are.  The inside of the boots were padded with a soft matte rubber, making them feel squishy to walk in. Next I put the gloves on. There were clips on the edges of the gloves, and different types of clips over each knuckle. The rubber of the gloves was about two or three millimeters thick, making the gloves feel heavy and making my hands feel bigger.

I noticed that there were tiny flat electronic circuits on the inside of the gloves, and on the inside of all the other pieces of the suit as well. I wondered what they would do and why I would need them. I myself was not a robot. Nonetheless I changed into the chest piece of the suit, and it was especially snug and especially heavy. At that point, I couldn’t notice how comfortable, how cozy the suit was. It made me feel both more relaxed and more unnerved. The chest piece also had thicker rubber padding around my pecs, my abs, and my biceps and triceps, telling me that the design was definitely about intimidation. The sleeves and the gloves had matching clips, so I snapped the two together. I knew I was reaching the point of no return. 

And finally there was the helmet. I picked it up and gripped it with my big rubber hands, and stared at its face for a moment. The goggles, or the ‘visor’ as the video called it, was missing, and there were clips to hold it in place. There were two circular clips on either side of the muzzle, probably where those tubes connected to. The muzzle was shorter and snub in comparison to the muzzles in the video, and the helmet had two big, floppy ears. Its cheeks were round but the jaw overall was square

A bunny, I thought to myself, and a chad bunny, at that. 

I held the helmet in one hand, and then slowly reached down behind myself to check something, and I huffed and rolled my eyes when I noticed it was there: a tiny ball of rubber above my lower back. A tail. They HAD to give me a tail. 

Slowly I put the helmet over my head, letting it rest on my crown and my shoulders, and then I snapped the clips of the helm to the clips around my neck on the chest piece. And once I did that, the smaller wall on the rectangular room beside me slid open. There were more fluorescent lines marking the floor and walls, but inside of this room was a large rectangular pack with three devices on top of it. 

It was hard to move around in the heavy suit, but I made my way over to the devices and examined each one. The first one had the appearance of a tablet except it was curved, and had a “screen” on both ends. I assumed this was the visor and I clicked it into place on the  helm. It was dark and hard to see through. Then there were two identical devices: Tiny metal boxes with four holes on each one. It took me a moment to realize that these connected to the clips on the back of each of my gloves. I clicked each device into place. Hesitantly I stared at the large metal box. It must have been a battery pack, or some kind of control panel or something… 

This is it, I thought. I had no idea why I was complying up to that point. I suppose I knew it wasn’t going to go well for me if I didn’t. I guess I was afraid and wanted to rip off the bandaid so to speak. But I knew once I put the pack on my fate was sealed. I looked up and looked around, looking for some way out one last time. I didn’t see any cracks in the walls, any ways to open the doors… I didn’t even see any cameras, but I knew there had to be, because how did they know what I was doing? Uncertainty took hold.

“Hello?” I called out, “Are you watching? W-why am I here?! Why me?!” There was no response… I knelt next to the box, still looking up at nothing in the room. 

“Why?” I repeated. 

… still no response.

I waited for a few minutes, expecting some ingenious escape plan to pop into my brain, or expecting someone to come get me. But that was the thing… I was waiting for something to happen. I was scared but the silence scared me more, I wanted to move on. I wanted to know what was next. Perhaps I was curious.

I hoisted the metal box upward, and examined it for a moment, there was a power button on the right hand corner. When I clicked it, blue and purple lines lit up all around the pack and gave off a soft glow, like a gaming computer. I turned the box around to make the clips face away from me, and clicked the clips on the right of the box to the right of my back, and swung the box around like a closing door to click the left clips to the left side of my back. And finally I grabbed a hold of the two tubes on top of the box, and connected them to each of the clips on my muzzle. 

There was a click and then everything went completely quiet, like I hadn’t noticed how loud the airflow of the room was until my helmet turned ‘noise cancelation’ on. The visor gave off a dim glow and showed that angular cloud again, the ‘Cumulus’ logo. A bunch of numbers and charts appeared on my screen, with the words “VITALS” written on top, and after a few seconds, the an EKG started spiking and falling, numbers appeared at the “BLOOD PRESSURE” section, there was some brain activity chart i didn’t understand, and also a chart that I believe measured my breath? 

Before I could even process what was going on with each of the readings, big red letters appeared on the screen. 

TERMINATION: 3

“Wait what?!” I shouted, my voice muffled by the suit. 

TERMINATION: 2

“What does that mean?!”

TERMINATION: 1

“Am I gonna die?!” 

… when the number hit zero, there was a sudden and sharp pain in my chest, making me flinch. In that moment there was nothing. I didn’t see or hear anything. I didn’t think. I couldn’t acknowledge myself. I wasn’t there… I was completely gone. 

“Rᴇʙᴏᴏᴛɪɴɢ.” There was a robotic monotone voice, and suddenly I was aware again. My head shot up abruptly. Through my peripherals I could see that my arms and legs snapped to a stiff posture, and my back was straight. But… I couldn’t feel them at all. I tried to move from the position I was standing in but I found I couldn’t move or feel my arms or legs. Everything was completely numb. And then I saw the vitals in front of my eyes. I had no pulse. The breadth readings weren’t there, and my blood pressure was listed as N/A. And at the top, of the screen, were the words: READINGS: NORMAL. The vitals then disappeared, and I could see through my visor clearly. 

“Cᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴄɪɴɢ ɪɴᴛʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴛᴏʀʏ ᴘʀᴏᴛᴏᴄᴏʟ.” The monotone voice spoke again. And that was when I noticed the monotone voice was my own, and I was saying these things against my will. I felt absolutely nothing. My heart didn’t speed up and I didn’t feel my stomach twinge or churn. My mind buzzed with thoughts like “oh my god oh my god” and “what the hell what the hell?!” But emotionally, I felt nothing. My thoughts matched what i would have felt in the past but I didn’t have an emotional connection to these thoughts.

Then my body marched forward on its own. One leg and one arm snapped outward simultaneously, not bending at the knee when I took a step. And then the other. And then this robotic motion was continued until I passed through the door and walked up to a metal table beside a metal chair, and then my body dropped suddenly to sit down in the chair, and pulled itself to face forward in a quick snapping motion. The room was lit about the same as the other rooms, however above the table was a bright light that accented only the table And those who sat there.  Across from me there was a drone whose helm had green markings on it, and had the features of a German shepherd. There was a dim animation of a green spiral on its visor. Then I read the numbers on its chest: GD-001. Just like in the video. 

“AQ-320, Tʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴏʀ ᴊᴏɪɴɪɴɢ Cᴜᴍᴜʟᴜs,” It said. “Dᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ǫᴜᴇsᴛɪᴏɴs ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴇ?” Its voice was deep and despite its mechanical articulations, its voice was gentle. My lungs did not move that whole time, but when I went to speak, my chest expanded.

“Aʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ ᴀʟʟ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜɪs?” I asked, my voice monotone. I wanted to see the one in charge. I didn’t know what I would do, if I would beat them up or demand answers, or what, but I knew this wasn’t right and I needed to see them. 

“Nᴏ I ᴀᴍ ɴᴏᴛ. I ᴀᴍ ᴏꜰ ʜɪɢʜᴇʀ ʀᴀɴᴋɪɴɢ, ʜᴏᴡᴇᴠᴇʀ I ᴀᴍ sᴛɪʟʟ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏʟ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ Mᴀsᴛᴇʀ.”

“Wʜᴏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇʏ?” 

“Nᴏʙᴏᴅʏ ᴋɴᴏᴡs.” 

I seriously expected GD to respond with “classified” or something like that… The way they gave such a human response there made me think they were more human than initially thought. I knew if I could still feel anything: I would feel I some empathy for them. I would feel sad that this fate I have been subjected to for less than an hour has been their reality for… I’m not sure how long. 

“Wʜʏ ᴄᴀɴ’ᴛ I ᴍᴏᴠᴇ? Wʜʏ ᴄᴀɴ’ᴛ I ꜰᴇᴇʟ? Wʜᴀᴛ ᴅɪᴅ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴅᴏ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ?” 

“Yᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ,” They said,  “Bᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟsᴏ ɪᴍᴍᴏʀᴛᴀʟ. Nᴇᴇᴅᴇᴅ ᴄᴇʟʟs ᴀʀᴇ ᴠɪᴛᴀʟɪᴢᴇᴅ, ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇsᴛ ᴅɪᴇ. Yᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴀ ᴘᴜʟsᴇ ᴀɴʏᴍᴏʀᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀᴇᴅ ʙʏ ʙᴀᴛᴛᴇʀʏ. Yᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏʟʟᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴀ sᴇʀɪᴇs ᴏꜰ TENS ᴜɴɪᴛs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʙᴇɴᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰʟᴇx ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍᴜsᴄʟᴇs. Aꜰᴛᴇʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴏɢʀᴀᴍᴍᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏʟ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ TENS ᴜɴɪᴛs ᴀᴛ ᴡɪʟʟ.”

I shook my head. None of it made sense to me, and one question kept repeating in my mind. I tried to shout it out: ‘why… WHY?!?!’ trying to seep my desperation into my voice, but it still came out monotone. 

“Wʜʏ. Wʜʏ.“ 

“AQ-320,” They began “ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀᴛᴛᴇᴍᴘᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ sᴇɴsᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʏs ᴏꜰ ᴏᴜʀ ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀ. Iᴛ ᴡɪʟʟ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴍᴘᴜᴛᴇ. Iᴛ ɪs ᴇᴀsɪᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴄᴄᴇᴘᴛ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪs ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴɪɴɢ, ᴛᴏ ᴀᴄᴄᴇᴘᴛ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴄᴏᴍᴇ.” And then it did something that I didn’t expect. Something that surprised me so much, for a brief moment I felt a chill down my spine, a lump in my throat, and real sadness in my heart. It reached across the table and gently touched my hand. 

“… Tʀᴜsᴛ ᴍᴇ.” 

I stared at the canine figure in front of me. We were drones, both of us, but maybe whatever ‘drone’ meant wasn’t what I thought. Maybe there was still room to be me, and also room to be AQ-320. I wasn’t content with my disposition, but I now knew that I wasn’t alone. I attempted to nod in recognition, but I found I still couldn’t move. 

“…ᴏᴋᴀʏ,” I replied. 

Its hand snapped backward to its side. At first I was offended but then realized it probably had no control over whether it wanted to do that. 

“Aɴʏ ꜰᴜʀᴛʜᴇʀ ǫᴜᴇsᴛɪᴏɴs?” GD-001 asked. 

So many, I thought. But too many right now. 

“Nᴇɢᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ,” I stated. 

“AQ-320, ʙᴇɢɪɴ ᴘʀᴏɢʀᴀᴍᴍɪɴɢ ᴘʀᴏᴛᴏᴄᴏʟ.”

My body snapped into a standing position, and once again it began robotically marching by itself, past GD-001 toward the door that was sliding open at the end of the room. 

“Nɪɢʜᴛʏ-ɴɪɢʜᴛ,” GD-001 said. I could see its reflection in the shiny wall waving at me.

When I crossed the threshold of the final room, the door slid behind me. The room was dark but there was a soft purple light that filled the entire room, making it feel cozy. Inside the room there was a big bed without a blanket, a pillow, and a night-time hat. My hands shot outward, picked up the night time hat, and put it over my bunny ears. Then, my body went stiff and flopped on top of the bed, my head resting on the pillow. 

And so it began. One moment I was staring at the blank ceiling, the next moment I was staring at a pink and purple spiral in my visor. Two similar pitches rang in inside my helmet, causing a waving dissonance. At first the spiral and the tone didn’t do anything; I felt completely normal. But then the spiral became harder to look at, harder to understand. My own thoughts became harder to understand, and they became harder to form. Happiness washed over me and I felt my lips curl into a smile. I tried to stop, but my face then was frozen in place. 

I knew this feeling of joy was bad; it was insidious and was being used to control me, so I tried to suppress it, but it was the best I had felt so far during my time at Cumulus… so I had to just let it wash over me… at a certain point I didn’t want to resist the happiness, and I didn’t know why I did. There were low whispers and mutterings of thoughts in my head. They didn’t come from the visor or from the speakers but I knew these thoughts weren’t my own, so I tried to resist them. But then my mouth began moving on its own.

“Oɴʟʏ ᴄᴜᴍᴜʟᴜs.. mmmm… H-ʜᴀ…hʜhʜᴀᴘᴘʏʏʏ…”

The thoughts got louder and more persistent.

“Oʙᴇʏ… no- Dʀᴏɴᴇ… uhhh… ᴍ-ᴍ-ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀ.” 

And then something clicked, and these intrusive thoughts and my own mind became one. 

“Oɴʟʏ ᴄᴜᴍᴜʟᴜs ᴍᴀᴋᴇs ᴍᴇ ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ.

I ᴀᴍ ᴀɴ ᴏʙᴇᴅɪᴇɴᴛ ᴅʀᴏɴᴇ

I ᴏʙᴇʏ ᴍʏ ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀ.

Mʏ ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀ sʜᴀᴘᴇs ᴍʏ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴛʏ.” 

I kept repeating that over and over again, feeling calmer and calmer the more I repeated it, thinking less and less the more I did, and forgetting more and more. The more I said it, the more it became true, and the less I cared. 

I was in the middle of repeating my programming again, when a robotic voice interrupted me. 

‘Iɴɪᴛɪᴀᴛɪɴɢ ᴛᴇsᴛ ᴏɴᴇ.’

I fell silent. Text appeared on the screen in front of the spiral. 

YOU ARE A BUNNY

My mouth shut and my eyes widened, and I shot upward into a sitting position. I didn’t know what those words meant but I felt them and I believed them with all my heart. And then an image of a carrot appeared in front of the spiral. My mouth watered. Craving and hunger and excitement overwhelmed me. I grinned and picked up my hands, letting them flop forward in front of me. The rubber tail on the back of my suit shook. I wiggled my nose some more. 

Then the carrot swung back and forth in front of the spiral, and my eyes followed it, and my tongue lulled out of my mouth as it did. I was overwhelmed with both joy and confusion. The more I watched the carrot and the spiral, the less I thought, and the more I gave into Cumulus’s programming. And eventually my eyelids grew heavy and it was hard to keep an upright posture. I began swaying as I fought sleepiness, wanting to keep watching this entertaining video in my visor, wanting to keep being a bunny and wanting to keep obeying. But then a new word appeared on screen. 

DROP

Once again, I didn’t understand the word, but my body followed. I slumped forward, my head dropping and my arms falling limp. And then one word kept flashing on the screen over and over. 

FORGET

FORGET

FORGET

This tranced state, this programming, had burrowed its way into my mind. I forgot without resistance and without question. I fell backwards, lying down once again, relishing this happy state of mind that was made for me, and obeying the command over and over again, allowing the visor to guide me into creating a new me… a better me… 

I love Cumulus.

I love my job.

I love to obey.

I am a drone.

My mind is devoid of thought.

My mind is clouded with calm.

My mind is clouded… 

Cumulus…

[garciaasfluffypen]

addiction

word count: 1.3k pairing: spencer reid x reader warnings: drug use (not explicitly written/described) 

a/n: sorry not sorry. this is also on my wattpad so if you feel like you’ve read it you probably have

spencer wasn't himself.

he was more jittery, sneaking off every now and then and it was getting on your nerves mainly because he wouldn't talk about it. so of course, in secret, you texted his boss to see if he had noticed anything different. hotch had told you that yes, he was acting different, and he feared that he was on drugs. after talking to hotch for a while, you decided to search his drawers.

was that a good idea? not in the slightest. were you doing it anyway? yes.

five minutes later you found the bottles of dilaudid in his drawer. you grabbed them and set them down on the kitchen table, opening your laptop and typing the name into google to read up on it. maybe this wasn't the reason he was off. maybe it was because he wasn't getting enough sleep or something mundane like that. you didn't want to think that spencer was taking drugs, but from what you had heard, tobias sent spencer down a dark path. it pained you to think about what spencer had gone through during those few days, and you didn't want to relive the pain you had gone through when garcia texted you that spencer was missing.

there was a click at the front door and you shut your computer, crossing and uncrossing your legs under the table as you tried to figure out how to start the conversation.

"y/n, i- what the fuck?!"

well, you thought, that's one way to start it.

"spencer, we need to talk."

"you went through my stuff!"

"i'm fucking concerned about you, of course i did!" you spat back, standing up and sending the chair flying across the wooden floor.

"you have no reason to be concerned about me."

your hands slammed down on the table. "yes i do! you're fucking on drugs, spencer."

it had been forever since you called him by his first name and only his first name. it sounded foreign coming from your lips.

"for the past four months you've been edgy, moody and all around not fun to be with. it's been a blessing when you're gone because i don't walk on eggshells when you're not here. but hotch sees it too. and so does the rest of the team, i'm presuming. you're fucking stupid, spencer. DRUGS? what on earth made you think doing an equivalent to morphine was okay?"

"you have no reason to be in my business-"

"yes i fucking do! i'm your girlfriend, spencer. i can be in your business all i want."

spencer ran a hand through his hair. "you could have at least asked me!"

"what, and have you dodge the question? tell me 'oh, i'm fine, i'm not on drugs!'  yeah, think again buddy."

spencer went to grab the vials off the table, but you were faster. you scooped them up from where they were sitting, turning around and throwing them against the wall and watching them break, the clear liquid sliding down the wallpaper as the glass shattered and fell to the floor. spencer ran over to where it had dropped, falling to his knees and slamming the floor with his fist.

"you have no idea what kind of damage you just did."

"hasn't this addiction done enough damage already?"

your voice turned quiet, your hands falling down just in front of your stomach as you played with them nervously. tears pricked at your eyes but you willed them back, telling yourself you were too strong to cry. you couldn't cry in front of him. not right now. not ever. and to be honest, you had gotten scared of him. scared of how his mood was going to be when he came home from a case, or how he was going to be when he woke up in the morning. it was always a game of "will he won't he", and you were fucking tired of it. and this was going to be the end of it.

"i almost left, while you were gone."

you swore you heard spencer choke back a sob.

"i uh- i was gonna go couch hop on my friend's couch for a while. i'm scared of you, spence. i am. before i found the-" you cut yourself off, not bearing to say the word out loud because that would make it real.

"y/n-"

"let me finish." you took in a breath. "i don't know which spencer i'm going to get anymore. and half the time, it's the mean spencer that scares me half to death. i don't sleep when you're here. i lay in bed, awake, waiting for you to do something you'd regret to me. i'm constantly on edge and i hate it. i hate this, i hate this apartment and fuck! i hate you so much!"

you fell to the floor, the tears you were trying to hide finally escaping. defeated, you curled in on yourself, almost mimicking the position spencer was in as his head poked up, staring at you with the first hint of concern you had seen in months.

"you need help, spencer. real help. i'm working with hotch to find a rehab group for you. but i need to know how much more of that is in the apartment."

"y/n-"

"i'm being serious."

"i'm not- i don't have any more."

"how much more is there, spencer?"

the silence in the room was tense, your voice cutting through the air like a knife in bread. it was at this moment, spencer knew he had fucked up. and it showed. his face fell, as if he were defeated, and he slumped down into a ball like shape as he fought with himself about telling you or not. you'd find it either way, you had quite a talent at finding things that were hidden. just like you found those three little bottles in his bedside table.

the three bottles that had almost broken your relationship.

"in my satchel."

his voice was high pitched, almost as if he were fighting back tears, much like you were moments ago. he slid the satchel to you, both of you staring at it as it sat on the floor.

"front left pocket, just under the flap."

"is that it?"

"yes."

you took the bottles from the pocket, counting another four. before you could even tell him to move, spencer rolled out of the way so you could throw them at the wall, destroying the vials for good. the two of you sat there, in the silence, contemplating what to do next.

"we should get that cleaned up."

spencer could only nod as he made his way to the bathroom, coming out moments later with a dustpan and broom. you went to the kitchen to get some paper towels, pausing with your back facing him. another moment of silence passed, the two of you standing on practically other sides of the apartment. the two of you cleaned in silence, both of you trying to find the right words to say but failing each time.

"i'm gonna go sleep at molly's for a while, just until you're okay enough. hotch is getting you set up with a rehab program, and he'll watch you while you're in it."

that was when spencer finally noticed the suitcase by the door, packed and ready to go.

"i'm doing this out of love, you know."

"i know." spencer's voice turned quiet this time. "'m sorry."

"its okay. i know you went through a lot."

"i shouldn't have put you through that-"

"you didn't know you were."

you shot him a sad smile, slipping on your shoes and grabbing the handle of your suitcase.

"i love you."

you could only stare at spencer's grief stricken face as he watched you leave, not even saying goodbye.

[pinkcherryblossomangel]

Away from myself

A follow up to AWAY FROM HOME

Bang Chan x reader

- it's eight months after the last chapter

- it's seven months since Y/N saw some nasty responses to rumours

- it's six months since she started spiralling

- five months since she stopped replying to his text

- four months since she stopped reading them

- three months since he stopped messaging

- two months since she stopped sleeping properly

- one day till she has to see him again.

STARING

Bang Chan

Han

Changbin

Y/N

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

TRIGGER WARNINGS

Depression

NSFW

Negative body image

Anxiety

Self-hatred

General poor mental health

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

His hand reaches up, grabbing mine out of his hair. Our finger interlock as he continues to explore.

My breath hitches at every change in direction.

The vibration of his giggles adding to the build up.

I glance down and see the smirk in his eyes.

The intense connection pushing me towards ~

I lurch awake. Panting, as sweat trickles down my back and forehead.

That didn't happen...

I wanted it more than anything, but that didn't happen.

I tear away my duvet and head to the bathroom. Walking down the dark hallway I know better than the back of my hand. It's been six months since I last spoke to Chris. And 3 months since he stopped trying to contact me.

Why do I always do this?

I always ruin everything good.

The cold water on my hands grounds me. The sensation reminding that this is what is real. The girl in the mirror is me. She is here. I am here.

"You okay sweetheart" my mums voice adds to the dawn birds song.

"Yeah just.."

"A bad dream?" She asks standing in the doorway. How do I answer this? Cause no. It wasn't a bad dream. It was an incredible one. One that reminded me of how utterly stupid I am.

"Yeah".

"Come here!" My mums embrace envelopes me in comfort. "Remember those bad dreams aren't really my love." I know that's the problem "and if they were I'd fight them off for you". She pinches my cheek like she did when I was a baby.

How can someone so full of love have made me?

"Now get back to sleep. Big day tomorrow!" Her excitement making me feel guilty for my lack.

"Do I have to go?!" I almost plead. She brushes my hair from my face.

"Y/N... my love yes. Yes you have to go! In two days time we will be in London. On a red carpet, at the premiere of your first every big film." The pride radiates off her. "My little girl" her eyes start to well, my follow in response. "Look at you living your dream! Being my little star!"

"I'm taller than you" I laugh between sobs.

"You'll always be my little girl." She switches in to PA mode, "Now go to bed, the train to London is at 9. And you have a call with your manager at 8."

"Love you mum"

"Love you too." She hugs me again "now move I need the toilet!"

************************************

I beat my alarm by five minutes. My dad always said to set it 20 minutes before the scheduled arrival, so when you fall asleep, you don't miss your stop.

I guess he had some good advice after all.

My phones buzzes but it's not the alarm.

It's him.

It's Chris.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuckity.

Fuck.

I can't ignore him, tomorrow evening we'll be sat next to each other at the screening. Maybe I can ask Han to swap seats. Or is that too harsh? I just know that if his thigh touches mine...

Y/N, no. You can't do this. He deserves way better than you. Someone who could love him so much more than you can. You'll burden him. I love him too much to do that.

I'll check his message at the hotel. I pull my head phones and press shuffle.

Not now...

I haven't listen to them in months and now! The god damn universe hates me.

This will do. My eyes settle on the countryside flying past.

I need to be brave.

************************************

I thank the receptionist as she hands me the PR plan for the next two weeks.

First the London premiere, then to the La premiere and lastly off to Seoul for the Asian premiere. The 3racha soundtrack is highly anticipated there, so much so they changed to an even bigger venue than la.

From what I heard it will be worth the wait. Chan would come over to my room every night after filming to show me what they'd come up with. Each snippet better than the last.

Each night ending in a passionate embrace.

No.

Stop it.

I close my eyes as if that will make the images erase from my mind.

Shit his text. I can't just ignore it. Why am I hyping myself up to read a text? What is wrong with me. Jesus.

I chuck my phone on the couch next to the TV. What am I gonna say.

I'm sorry Chris, I didn't message you for 6 months because I saw one tweet about us being friends and how I'm a fat piece of shit and I started to spiral and haven't been able to look at any thing to do with stray kids since then!

Or maybe

I'm sorry Chris that I somehow tricked you into liking me in anyway possible, we should just pretend nothing ever happened between us. Pretend that everytime something good happens, it isn't immediately ruined because I can't tell him. And then i wallow in my own stupid self-pity.

Christ... he really dodged a bullet

Flopping down on the bed, i open the manila envelope to see who I'm paired with for the interviews. I'm guessing it'll be with Jack, my on screen boyfriend. Haven't spoken to him since we stopped filming. So that's another awkward re-meeting tomorrow.

But it's not Jack's name there. Or jenna or tash. No it's non of my fellow actors. It's the boys of 3racha.

I immediately dial my manager.

"Hey Julie, I just got my PR plan. It says I'm doing the press bracket with 3racha? I thought I'd be doing it with Jack? Or another actor?"

"Oh yes! I forgot to say this morning! Since there's been such buzz around the soundtrack, Ryan thought it'd be a great idea to have them in the interviews. And he said you got along so well he'd thought you enjoy it!" Of course he did. "Is everything good? Do you want me to ask if they can change it?"

"No its okay, I was just a bit surprised is all" I can't kick up a fuss. I don't want any drama. "I'll see you tomorrow Julie!

" Remember, your interviews start at 9 am. I'll be there at 11. And then 7pm it's the red carpet and at 9pm it's the screening."

"I know," I say, trying to emphasise how many times I've been over the plan. "I'll see you tomorrow. Thank you"

"Thank you Y/N! Now have a nice dinner and treat your mum to something nice!"

"Don't worry I will". I hang up.

I need to text chan back.

I am not ready.

Someone knocks at the door. I open it and he's there.

Christopher is there in front of me.

I can't control myself. I burst into tears.

"I guess we're hotel neighbours again" he smiles sadly.

[leffee]

More lps generated incorrect quotes except this time I decided not to put them as screenshots but simply copy them like that because they're easier to read this way (stealing lps-incorrect-quotes' job :O):

Vinnie: Why does Sunil always do the laundry so loudly?

Russell: So everyone knows that no one helps him out in the house.

Sunil, in the distance: * slams the washing machine shut*

Vinnie: I woke up and chose VIOLENCE. I WILL COMMIT ARSON AND BURN EVERYTHING TO THE GROUND!!! I AM ANGRY-

Russell: Awwww, you're so adorable! Give me a hug~

Vinnie: Wh- What? NO, YOURE SUPPOSED TO BE SCARED OF ME! TREMBLE BEFORE MY WRATH-

Sunil, recording: This is so cute.

Vinnie, negotiating with Sunil

Sunil: We have Russell. Give us ten thousand dollars and he will be returned to you unharmed

Russell: Whoa, whoa, wait, you think I'm only worth ten thousand dollars?

Vinnie:

Russell: MAKE IT ONE MILLION-

Vinnie: Russell STOP

Vinnie: If you had to choose between Sunil and all the money I have in my wallet, which would you choose?

Russell: That depends, how much money are we taking about?

Sunil: Russell!

Vinnie: 63 cents.

Russell: I'll take the money.

Sunil: Russell!!!

Sunil: What time is it?

Vinnie: I don't know; pass me that saxophone and we'll find out

Vinnie: *Plays sax loudly and extremely out of tune*

Russell: WHO THE FUCK IS PLAYING THE SAXOPHONE AT TWO IN THE MORNING

Vinnie: It's 2 am

Sunil: Yo dumbass, get over here.

Russell: Okay.

Vinnie: * gleefully runs past* I'm coming!

Russell, sadly: I thought...I was dumbass...

Sunil: Vinnie, I am questioning your sanity...

Russell: I never questioned it, I knew his sanity was missing from the start.

Sunil: Well, remember when Russell made a romantic dinner for me?

Vinnie: Sunil, he microwaved you a pizza.

Sunil: You bought a taco?

Vinnie: Yes.

Sunil: From the same truck that hit Russell?!

Vinnie, with a mouthful of taco: Well, me starving ain't gonna help him.

Sunil, driving Vinnie and Russell: So how was your day?

Vinnie: We almost got surprise adopted!

Sunil: What?

Russell: We almost got kidnapped.

Sunil: Oh, okay.

Sunil: *slams on the breaks* WAIT WHAT?!

Sunil: Hey, did you know as a kid I accidentally ate paper?

Russell: I feel like we've all done that at least once.

Vinnie: I ate it too-

Russell: See?

Vinnie:-On purpose...

Sunil & Russell: ...What?

Vinnie: Sunil is too tall for me to kiss him on the lips. What should I do?

Zoe: Punch him in the stomach. Then, when he doubles over in pain, kiss him.

Pepper: Tackle them!

Russell: Dump them.

Penny: Kick them in the shin!

Sunil: No to all of those! Just ask me to lean down!!

Vinnie: *dies*

Pepper: Timer starts now! When is he coming back? I say two months!

Sunil: Bullshit. One month.

Zoe: Nah, half a month.

Russell, sobbing: WHAT ARE YOU DOING? A PERSON JUST DIED!

Penny, scratching chin in thought: One week.

Vinnie, rubbing his temples: I am not proud of what I am about to say, but someone get me a cigarrette.

Pepper: But Vinnie, we don't smoke.

Vinnie: Cut the crap, Pepper. I'm not an idiot. I know that one in five people smoke.

Vinnie: *points at Penny* One! *points at Sunil* Two! *points at Russell* Three! *points at Zoe* Four! *points at Pepper* Five!

Vinnie: Now, I am going to close my eyes, and when I open them, there better be a cigarrette between these two fingers!

Zoe: *puts a cigarrette in Vinnie's hand*

Vinnie: Thank you. ...Light?

The Squad: *all simultaneously pull out lighters*

Vinnie: You know, when Pepper comes over, Zoe can get a little…

Sunil: Psycho?

Russell: Scary?

Penny: Drunk?

Vinnie: All three.

Vinnie: Fine! Judge all you want but...

Vinnie, points at Penny: Married a lesbian.

Vinnie, points at Zoe: Left a man at the altar.

Vinnie, points at Sunil: Fell in love with a gay ice dancer.

Vinnie, points at Russell: Threw a girl's wooden leg in a fire.

Vinnie, points at Pepper: Lives in a box!

Since I copied them in text I thought that I could just change names manually if they didn't fit, but then I left them the way they were generated because I decided that it was funnier like that :D

[quodekash]

my engineer incorrect quotes to try and fill the ramking shaped hole in my heart

—- —-

King: Hey Ram, can you give me the opposite of these words? King: Always, Coming, From, Take, Me, Down. Ram: Never, Going, To, Give, You- Ram: The fucking satisfaction. 

(this happened. this was the scene near the start where king texts ram and waves to him and tries to talk to him and ram picks up his phone and leaves to go see his brother. king loves rickrolling and thats canon because i said so)  —- —-

Duen: I wouldn’t put it in those words exactly. Ram: Why not? Duen: Because I don't know what they mean. 

—- —-

King: Hey, what’s your Netflix password? Ram: ihopeyoudie King: Thank you!

—- —-

Duen: I drink to forget but I always remember. Ting: You're drinking orange juice. 

—- —-

King: Ow! Ram: What’s wrong? King: I have this weird pain right above my eyebrow. Ram: It’s called a stress headache. I got my first one when I was four.

—- —-

Thara, after getting a library card: Now I know what true power feels like. 

—- —-

Ram: If I die, you can have what little I own. King: Wait. What do you mean "if" you die? Ram: My unending existence is fuelled by pure spite, that of which the painful experiences of life have rendered me full. King: King: *Sighs* Let me call your therapist again. 

—- —-

Ram: Hey, you want a tarot reading? Bohn: Those are Pokemon cards. Ram: You got a magikarp. Bohn: … Ram: It means 'fuck you'. 

(this is essentially what happened for like. half the show. up until the end of the fight between bohn and ram) —- —-

Ram, after watching King get shot by someone: You’re dead. You are very dead. When you are a corpse I will hack away at your flesh and eat you raw. King: Ram, I’m not dead yet. Ram: Let me have my moment of rage to avenge you. King: I’d prefer it if you didn’t let me die. 

—- —-

*Everyone is giving advice to Duen* Ting: It's okay to ask for help. Tang: You're not a burden. Ram: Murder is okay. Phu: Your feelings matter. 

—- —-

King: Are you sure Ram's even gay? He barely even looked at me. 

—- —-

Duen: All snacks are gone. Bohn: I AM LITERALLY RIGHT HERE?! 

—- —-

Ram: You’re drunk. King: Correction: drinking. Present tense. Grammar, Ram. 

—- —-

Mek: Have I ever told you that you cook well? Boss: Awww, no, you haven't! Mek: So why do you keep cooking? 

—- —- Ram: You’re giving me a sticker? King: Not just a sticker. That is a sticker of a kitty saying “me-wow!” Ram: I’m not a preschooler. King: Fine, I’ll take it back- Ram: I earned this, back off! 

—- —- King: We just ate. Why are you making pancakes? Ram: For the dogs. King: Why are you making pancakes for the dogs? Ram: They don’t know how. 

—- —-

this one is fairly short compared to my other incorrect quote compilations, but i promise, i will be back. 

also im planning to post another eclipse incorrect quotes post in like five minutes 

[kittystargen3]

Summary: A time traveling Grandmaster, to the Prequel Era, trying to fix the mistakes the Jedi made, and get rid of a certain Sith too. Only Time Travel is not that easy, as Yoda will soon learn.

I've updated Time Travel: To the Past Yoda Goes today with a new chapter. Below is a small selection. Please click one of the links above to read more.

Chapter 61 - Warning!

“What are we going to do?” The question was whispered by all the younglings in their group, and as much as he wanted to, Dooku had no answers to give them.  

“Should we contact the council again?” Alex suggested.  

“No.” Anakin sounded decisive.  “They would only send someone else.  Who would go in there and get possessed as well.”  

“But what if they do send someone?  And we don’t warn them!” Freya worried.

“Why would they send anyone?  Your master just went in there.  It’ll be a little while at least before they are worried enough to send in someone else,” Asajj pointed out.  She had a point, considering how long her Master had been without backup on Rattatak.

“Master Rancisis!”  Leeta shouted with a dawning realization in her wide eyes.  “He was Yaddle’s Padawan too.  If he feels anything like what I just felt, he’ll know something went wrong.”

Dooku leaned forwards.  “Yes, Master Yaddle is known for keeping her Padawan Bonds strong long after her Padawans move on.  And there are a lot of knights who have no doubt felt what happened.  Though Oppo being on the Council could make them move faster.”  He turned to Anakin again.  “Use Code Nine-Two-Two-Five-Four.  It will make them stop before sending anyone else.”

There was a moment where the younglings all sat staring up at him.  “What.  I used to be on the Council.  Now go!”  He ushered and the younglings all stood up and Anakin ran to the comm unit.  

“Oh, we missed a message.  It’s from Master Billaba.”

“Quick.  Send the message to the council and we’ll listen to the message when we’re done,”  Alex urged.

“Okay.”  Anakin dialed the Council’s main line and plugged those numbers into the text field.  Then he hit send.  

A minute later, text came on the screen again.  “Message Received.” Anakin read, and they all sighed. ...

[experiment14-12]

(I feel like I'm overdue for this, so here we go!)

(Most characters come directly from me, @sanalune-forest, and @the-machines.)

*Sean, Nick, Tsuki, Mike, and Arco are gathered around playing a game of Five Things.*

Everyone: Five Things! Five Things!

Arco: Five Things to say in the bedroom.

*this'll be good-*

Tsuki: FUCK!

*everyone is already laughing.*

One!

Nick: I'm ready!

Two-!

Sean: Where do I put it-?

*the laughter gets worse...*

Three-?!

Mike: Who the hell are you?!

FOUR-

Nick: I'm NOT ready!

FIVE-!

*everyone is just dying.*

Random Incorrect Quotes!

(@oogaboogaspookyman's quotes gave me inspiration for most of these XD)

Ori, texting Tsuki: you talk a lot about liking dick on tumblr.

Tsuki: i mean, they're mainly shitposts, but i do also like dudes.

I'm a bistentsual

Bidectual

Ori: Take your time.

Tsuki: Bursxtual

Holes

----------

Ethan (from the Machines): This conversation is related to a DoorDash order.

Hey they all out of lesayna

lasanya

Leysayna

The shit Garfield eat

----------

Sean, travelling through a forest with Flo: ♪ We're all gonna be safe, and we're all gonna have a great time~! ♪

*something breaks behind them both*

Flo: ♪ ...WHAT THE JESUS CHRIST WAS THAT?! ♪

----------

Mike: I am making a law. Any use of UwU or OwO is now illegal, those who use these terms will be arrested for crimes against humanity.

Ethan: cwimes against huwumanity :3

Mike: i will break your fucking kneecaps.

----------

Arco: HOW ARE YOU NOT DEAD?!

Sean, with one arm amputated, and half his face burned: I HAVE NO IDEA! :D

----------

Nick: I thought you were dead!

Flo, who just woke up: ...No, I was just down here, having a nap. What the fuck is going on???

Nick: ...You were very still, I-

Flo: I'm a very sound sleeper- Sorry, you thought I was DEAD, and instead of calling for help, or getting an ambulance, you got somebody to dress as an oversized shit version of me, and started singing fucking SHOWTUNES???

Nick: ...the show must go on-?

Flo: Oh, this is BULLSHIT!

----------

Arco: WHAT IS THIS GAME, DUDE?!

*everyone is laughing*

ARE YOU SERIOUS?!

GIVE ME A GREEN CARD!

*he's picking up anything BUT green cards.*

WHAT. ARE. YOU. DOING?! HOLY SHIT!!!

*He finally picks up a green 5 and places it down.*

Sean: *sharp inhale* Oh, don't do it-!

*Flo places down a green reverse, while making the perfect representation of a Lenny face.*

Sean: Oh, don't do it-!

Arco, enraged at this point: I DON'T HAVE A GREEEEEN!!!!!

*everyone is fucking DYING, wheezing.*

Arco: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!

----------

*Tsuki and Ethan are chilling in the living room.*

*Tsuki makes some sort of noise that sounds like a demonic vomit, but looks like he sneezed.*

Tsuki: ... you're not even gonna say "God bless you"?

Ethan: THAT WAS A FUCKIN' SNEEZE-?!

----------

(Credit goes to Daniel Thrasher on YouTube and TikTok for this one!)

Tsuki: What's up, Flo? What do you want for linner?

Flo: That's not a thing...

Tsuki: Yeah, it is. Lunch, dinner... before suppert.

Flo: Is that supposed to be dessert-?

Tsuki: Plus supper, yes.

Flo: well, that is unnecessary...

Tsuki: It's efficient, Flower. Here. Hand me the scizilk.

Flo: The what???

Tsuki: THE SCISSOR MILK.

*there's a jug of milk with a plastic fastener going through the cap, and through the side of the jug.*

Flo: Why did you-

Tsuki: Emergalcium. (Emergency calcium.)

Osneorapnyone. (Osteoperosis can sneak up on anyone.)

*Tsuki rips off the pair of scissors that were taped on to the jug.*

Flo: What- what are you saying...?

Tsuki: JUST READ THE TEXT ON THE SCREEN, FLO!

*Tsuki cuts the fastener to open the cap.*

Flo: What...?

*Tsuki is cutting the place where the fastener was on the jug of milk to open it up more.*

Tsuki: Bayingpholtence, antsicavortime. (By saying the whole sentence at once, I can save more time.)

*Tsuki then takes off the cap.*

Flo: Okay, well, uhh, what- what is scissor milk?

*Tsuki looks frustrated. Now, everything he says is one word, but it sounds like he's saying multiple words at the same time.*

Tsuki: S̿̉ͦ͑̋ͩ́̐��̢̬̦̦̫̖̦̤̝̗̼͈̱͓͉̞͍̘̰̟͙́ͪ̆̎ͩͪ̄̅ͭ̌̅҉̷́͘͟͢͞͏̷̛̕҉̴̵̴̢̢͝͞C̴̯̪̙̞̼͕̙̦͔͚͊̈͆̒̈́̓̊ͣ͗ͪ̑̀ͣ̒ͅͅ͏̀I̶̵̧̧̨̛̛ͮ͐̾̓̑ͮ̈̍ͩ͒͆̕͢͡͠͞͡҉͡͏Ş̣͓̠̬͓̣̗͎̳̮͍̤̦͈ͦ̆̉̄̄̎̈ͨ̒́S̸̵̵̡̧̢̨̢̛̭̠̱̰̭͔͘͘̕͘͜͢͞͞ͅǑ̫̖̮͚̣̝̱͕̥̃̎ͩ̇̾̑̓͛̆͒̐͑͐R̴̵̗̮̙͎̤͚̥̳̘̥̺̦̾ͣͪ̿͆̇ͩ͌͊̃̚͘͞҉̷̢̕̕͘͜Ş͈̖̪̘̙̻̣̙̮͕̠ͦ̆̊̀ͪ͋ͨ̎́҉̶!̺̦̤͙̹͔̰͙̤̉̋ͭ͗̄͛̽̀́͢͜͟͠ͅ (It's for when I need Scissors and milk at the same time!)

*Tsuki slams the cap down, and pours himself a cup of milk???*

Flo, speechless: ...How are you doing that?

Tsuki: Ḙ̵̴̷̴̷̢̟̰̯̼̫̱́̏ͫ̃͡F̸̝͚̥͓̥̻̲̐ͨ̃͒͛ͅF̷̵̧̪͓̮̭͍́̽ͦ̿̑͗́̀̕͟͞͞͝͡I̗͚̙͈̠͈͈̓̓ͅ͏̶͜͡C̡̜͎̮̬̪ͧͣͪ̃ͯͥ̅̆̈́͘͘҉̴̵̧̀̀͘Į̴̛̛͓̟̲͖̟̝ͮ̓ͪ̃̎̽́͠ͅͅË͎͙̭͚̘̱̯̟ͩ̽ͯN̻̼̝͗̎̎͑ͥ͏̴̸̨͢͝͝͏̴̛T̫͉͚͖͉̙͕̩͎̖̾͗̚͢҉.̶̨̡̝͓̟̖̮͔̾͊̋ͬͤ̐̀͞͝ (I MUST BE MORE EFFICIENT.)

Flo: D- DO YOU NEED ME TO CALL SOMEBODY?!

Tsuki: N̨̧L҉̡͘Ó͜. ̷ǸE͝FF͏̷IC҉́I͢ÈN͢ƯF́F̧̨͜. ̷̴͞I҉̵̀M̵̡͜Ú͞C̡͘͟K̡̢͝IN̸̷͜E MW͢͝͡HE҉T̸̢̨H̢̡͡Ę́R ͞͠T͏̢HEǸ̸͞I̴V҉E ̵M͟͡U҉͞L͠I̧̧͜NC̸͘E. (NLO. NEFFICIENUFF. IMUCKINE MWHETHER THENIVE MULUNCE. (NO, FLO. NOT EFFICIENT ENOUGH. I MUST COMBINE MORE WORDS TOGETHER SO I CAN LIVE MORE LIVES AT ONCE.))

Flo, seeing the same words and letters everywhere: JESUS CHRIST!!!!!

[ilseofskadi]

TODAYS COWORKER BULLSHIT IS A TWO IN ONE SPECIAL

first:

there's this one kid who is super oral, like anything and everything goes in her mouth. like. we've caught her licking the floor. several times.

it became a huge problem when we found her putting tiny beads in her mouth during nap time and we had to move her spot

so jane did what jane does best and shoved herself into the situation and got her a chewy necklace

and okay yeah that's not a terrible idea i will admit that. my niece had one for awhile (tho hers had other stimmy objects in it too) but she was like five or six when she had it (maybe she still has it idk i haven't seen her in awhile)

however this kid ended up putting the whole entire necklace in her mouth, and we had to take it from her because she kept putting her fingers in her mouth with it

of course jane texts me saying that it "seems to be working so far"

like yeah you did have good intentions i admit and it's not a terrible idea, but it's not working towards the problem of getting her to STOP putting things (toys, works, her fingers) in her mouth

second:

we do a little show and tell every thursday for the letter of the week. this week is the letter V. naturally a good amount of kids didn't have anything

well jane likes to have a bag of things that start with the week's letter. fine. okay. whatever. as long as it's not a distraction

WELL this week she just ended up making a confusion among the kids

she had gummy vitamins, a violet colored pencil, a vhs, a votive, and a valentines themed rubber duck

OF COURSE the kids who picked those things didn't know what they were (except the kid with the vitamins)

violet colored pencil? nope it's purple. a votive? nope it's a candle. the valentine duck? nope it's just a duck

and the vhs? she gave it to the most autistic kid in the room. this kid literally just turned four, and mostly repeats what he hears. of course he calls it a movie

what kid even knows what a votive is?? I didn't even know what a votive is!!!

the point of show and tell is so the kids can find things around them and associate them with the letter it starts with. some kids brought tot vegetables, one kid brought a valentine card, one brought a vanilla ice cream toy, another a tiny vase, one had a vice grip wrench, and my favorite was the kid who brought a funko-pop marceline the vampire queen

if we bring in things the kids don't know, they're not learning the letter or learning to associate the letter with word identification, and here jane is confusing them!! of course a kid is going to call a votive a candle!! of course a kid is going to say purple before even thinking violet!!! a duck that has hearts on it? what kid would even think of associating it with valentines!!!!

sorry this got long

thankfully mobile still has a read more option

[litsnobconfessions]

Literary Trash Talk: Listen for the Lie by Amy Tintera

By now, you've seen my 2025 watching project. For my 2025 reading project, @tsundere-isopods and I are tracking our reading together. I thought I'd keep track of them here:

Books read this year: 1

Books started in 2024: 1

Mystery: 1

Most recent book read: Listen for the Lie by Amy Tintera

Listen for the Lie tells the story of Lucy Chase, a suspect in the five-year old unsolved murder of her best friend, Savannah "Savvy" Harper. She doesn't remember the night of the murder, and there wasn't enough evidence to prosecute her. She's moved from her hometown of Plumpton, TX to Los Angeles to start a new life, but when a true crime podcaster, Ben Owens, decides to focus his next season on Savvy's murder, she once again returns home and is thrust into the spotlight.

Content Warning: This book contains themes of abuse and sexual violence

Okay, Listen for the Lie has a decent premise. And quite frankly, I think it has a decent theme. But I felt the pacing was all off and I wasn't really a fan of... well, any of the characters. See, I have this thing for healthy character relationships, and from what I can tell, the only healthy relationship Lucy has ever had in her life was with Savannah, who is now dead. I'm including her grandmother, who I'm pretty sure is supposed to be liked, but basically forces Lucy into working with the podcaster when she doesn't want to (because apparently consent doesn't matter when it's your grandmother.)

As for Lucy herself, if you do choose to read this book, I encourage you to play this drinking game: take a drink every time Lucy does something because someone else wants her to (including when a man puts her in a physical situation she does not want to be in) or when she says, "this is a terrible idea" and proceeds anyway. It was kind of a difficult to read a book about a character with such little agency. I think Tintera may have chosen to do this on purpose, as much of the book is about sexual violence and women having their agency taken away, but I also didn't feel like that really changed by the end of the novel? And maybe I'm just used to characters like this having a revelation that allows them to take control of their lives again or move past trauma or recognize which people are not toxic and let them in. Of course, Lucy may not have anyone in her life who's not toxic, so there's that.

As for the pacing, I felt the podcast interludes really bog it down. The first half of the book literally reads like this: three pages of scene. Three pages of podcast transcript. Three pages of scene. Three pages of podcast transcript. At one point, those two "scenes" are the the front door of a house and immediately afterward, inside the house. Why did these need to be broken up by an interview? Also, the first four chapters do virtually nothing for the story. They introduce Lucy's boyfriend, Nathan, who never appears again except to text her that he wants to break up with her. There are several other characters like that--who show up in one or two scenes and don't do anything to forward the plot or other characters' development. There are also 2-3 chapters of Lucy talking to Ben in a diner trying to decide if she actually wants to let him interview her... the result of which is basically summed up in a podcast transcript later in the book.

I think this book could have been really interesting if it was only narrative, and had an accompanying podcast--so you basically got two versions of the story. But as is, it felt like a couple hundred pages of people sitting around gossiping with one another and then someone solves a murder. Also random erotic sex scene? Which honestly just made it feel like I'd taken a left turn into a different book.

*Spoilers ahead*

When I read a book I dislike, I often find myself trying to find reviews online to see if anyone else had the same problems or if I'm just a freak literary snob. So for all the other snobs out there, here's what I was thinking:

Every male character is this book is a jerk. Some more so than others, but they're all useless. Ben considers himself a journalist, but then chooses to sleep with the woman he's doing a story on. And yes, she said yes, but he invited her out for drinks in the first place, which was not professional. My favorite character in the book is, without a doubt, his assistant, who basically only serves to put up a weak defense about why they shouldn't be sleeping together. It's weak because she gets pushed out of the room, ignored, and never seen again.

Also, this book did not need sex scenes. I don't mind sex scenes in books--when they're earned. Jacqueline Carey created a world where sex is basically an act of religious worship and prostitutes are on the same level as priests, so it's expected that the book will have sex scenes. The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms by N. K. Jemisin includes at least one sex scene that is result of multiple character interactions leading to a deeper relationship. The sex scenes here feel like... well, they feel like an unprofessional journalist asked a girl who basically agrees to anything anybody asks her to do if she would sleep with him. And they feel like Tintera thought the book wouldn't be good without a romantic subplot, and that a romantic subplot must include erotic scenes.

I also didn't understand why Lucy still seemed to be playing down her abusive relationship with Matt at the end. She's like, "yeah, we fought a lot," when her best friend was literally plotting his murder to save her from the abuse. I guess she doesn't want people to know that Savvy wanted to kill him? But I think she still could have said he was abusive without mentioning that. Maybe this is because she's still working through the trauma, but most of it wasn't depicted as... traumatic. Like, it was traumatic five years ago, when she was actually getting beaten up. And it's clear he's gaslighting her. But the present-day interactions with Matt don't have that same sort of emotion. In other stories I've read, I feel like the characters talk about almost being compelled to protect their abusers or to return to them. Lucy felt like she had moved on from Matt and started engaging with him almost because she was bored. But I have not been through this experience personally, so I might just be missing something. Please let me know if I am just totally off base here.