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rainsoughtflowers · 5 months ago

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do you see right through me?

part one

tw/cw - angst, graphic depictions of death and violence.

a/n - woohoo next chapter !!

it only takes you a moment to decide.

your eyes swiftly scan the options, left to right, down and across, passing over a large variety of bubbly sodas and fruit flavored milk. your attention snags on a small container sitting in the second row, displaying bright orange letters and a small mango on the packaging. the familiar sight of your go-to drink. your fingers smooth out the dollar bill in your hands before slipping it into the machine and, once checking the number, move over to press the corresponding buttons. you step back slightly, following the sight of the vending machine slowly pushing your drink out of its row. it drops to the bottom with a soft thud, and you reach down to push open the flap.

another hand slips in before you, successfully grabbing the container, causing you to glance up and meet seung-bin's delighted eyes.

he holds it up, inspecting the bright letters printed on the front, "mango flavored milk?" he asks, smirking.

you slowly straighten, nodding your head slightly, "yes. it's my favorite." you reach out your hand, intending to retrieve it, but seung-bin is quicker, swiftly pulling it out of reach and over his head.

"really? your favorite? it must be good then. i think i want to try it." you blink slowly at him, processing his words, studying his cocky smile, amused eyes and arrogant nature. ah, he was picking on you. it was no surprise, really. although seung-bin stayed away from beating up girls, he had no problem messing with them from time to time, especially when he was bored. you just happen to be the unlucky victim for the day.

how annoying.

you angle your body to face him head on, "there's plenty more in the vending machine. or," you tilt your head, inspecting him carefully, "do you need to borrow money?"

seung-bin's entire face changes in one swift moment. he scowls, lowering the can and taking one intimidating step towards you, "the fuck did you say to me bitch-"

SMACK.

seung-bin blinks, stunned, but he has no chance to move away or curse the culprit as he gets smacked on the back of his head two more times. a silence settles over the hallway, eerily quiet, and the air feels suffocatingly thick. only one person would have the confidence to reprimand seung-bin and get away with it.

you direct your attention to the perpetrator, feeling your own version of surprise overcome your body when your eyes settle on kyung-jun. you've never been afraid of him, not really, but looking at him then, taking in the seriousness molding his features, the quiet anger directed at his friend, it's almost enough to make you tremble.

"why do you have to be so damn annoying, huh? don't you have your own money to buy a drink? or did you gamble it all away like an idiot again?" seung-bin flinches at the harsh tone, hanging his head in shame. kyung-jun stares at him for another couple moments before shifting his attention to you. your body seizes at its own accord, but you force yourself to remain steady, never faltering under his intense stare. his hand comes up and latches onto the back of seung-bin's neck, his grip tight, and nods his head in your direction, "go on. give it back."

seung-bin obeys, holding your drink out, and you stare at the offer, noticing the slight tremble in his fingers, the way he refuses to meet your eyes. slowly, you take it, looking at kyung-jun once it's back in your possession. his eyes still haven't left your own.

"apologize." kyung-jun commands, shoving the boy forward.

seung-bin steadies himself, looking at your face only for a quick second before lowering his head once more, "i'm sorry." he mutters, his words quick and unsteady.

"you accept his apology?" kyung-jun asks. you spare a glance at the blond boy in front of you. seung-bin still hasn't moved, either due to fear or complete obedience, you couldn't tell. his hands are clenched tightly at his sides, and his head is still lowered, as if he's afraid of facing any more of kyung-jun's wrath. to be completely honest, not one part of you felt any sort of sympathy towards seung-bin. it was obvious his apology held no real value. still, you didn't feel like dealing with the situation any longer.

you glance up, meeting kyung-jun's eyes, "yes."

a smile curls his lips, easily resting there. you're not sure what exactly amused him. your response or the situation as a whole? either way, he wraps an arm around seung-bin's shoulder, shaking him slightly, "you hear that? she was nice enough to forgive you. say thank you."

"thank you." seung-bin chokes out.

kyung-jun breathes out a laugh, shaking seung-bin once more before pulling him along. the two walk away, and you turn, observing kyung-jun's back as his figure gets further and further away. when he's gone, you look back down at your drink, inspecting the small container with confusion. why did kyung-jun help you? was it his way of repaying you for the umbrella? was he bored? you replayed the scene in your head, assessing. his annoyance with seung-bin was genuine, but was it because he was messing with a girl, or was it you specifically?

you shake away the thoughts, distracting your mind by opening the plastic seal and taking a sip. it didn't matter what kyung-jun's intentions were. it probably wouldn't happen again, meaning, you could learn to forget about the situation entirely. you were kind to him, he repaid you back, and the two of you could go back to living your lives separately, just like before. the way it's suppose to be.

you could forget about the rapid pounding of your heart, and the ghost of a smile threatening to settle on your lips.

unlike before, you wake up quickly.

your eyes snap open, darting around the room as your breathing picks up in only a couple short breaths. music plays overhead, and you feel the sturdiness of the wall against your back, your legs spread out in front of you. your classmates are scattered around the room, some still laying flat on the floor, others slowly getting up as their senses return. across from you, kyung-jun pushes himself into a sitting position, and you watch as his face twists in discomfort and confusion. his eyes scan his surroundings, and when they meet your own, it feels like the only thing grounding you at the moment.

what happened last night? why did we fall asleep here?

the sound of footsteps echo in the hall, and you tear your eyes away to find yoon-seo rushing towards the window. she stops, a small, barely legible cry escaping her lips. she stumbles back, glass crunching under her feet, causing your eyes to deviate from her body towards the ground. there's a trail of blood there, leading down the hall, stopping at the window, which has been shattered to pieces. the images come back rapidly to you then. one after the other, bombarding you with gruesome scenes from the night before. the screams. the pounding. heo-yool, dead outside, no longer breathing.

beside you, you feel your hands begin to tremble.

a chorus of chimes echo in your ears, followed by a small vibration against your leg. you hastily reach for your phone, picking it up and turning on the screen just as an alarm blares from above.

BEFORE THE END OF THE LAST VOTING, THE POLICE OFFICER USED THEIR POWER. CHOI JU-WON WAS EXECUTED BY THE MAFIA. CHOI JU-WON WAS THE MAFIA.

PARTICIPANTS, PLEASE FIND THE MAFIA AND START VOTING.

yoon-seo is the first to break the silence, hastily glancing around the room, "where's ju-won?"

no one answers, and you do a quick survey of the room yourself. sure enough, the boy wasn't to be found.

woo-ram stumbles to his feet, "the announcement," he points to the ceiling, his voice rising in volume with every word he speaks, "who's making the announcement? why do we keep hearing this right now!"

"the broadcasting room is on the second floor," hyun-ho realizes, nudging dong-hyun in encouragement, "let's go over there, let's go!"

hyun-ho, dong-hyun, woo-ram and a couple of others run towards the stairs, their footsteps gradually getting softer and further way. you release another shaky breath, slowly pushing yourself against the wall and standing up straight.

just then, a yell echoes from the distance, the sound blended with such unfiltered horror it causes your entire body to grow rigid in fear. yoon-seo wastes no time in rushing towards the sound, followed by the rest of your classmates. you force yourself to trail after the crowd.

you find yourselves in the boys bathroom, a swift scan revealing da-bum slowly backing away from one of the stalls, along with a large puddle of blood spreading beneath it. the metallic scent of it is so heavy it sits on your tongue, and you have to reach your fingers up to press against your nose to filter the smell.

kyung-jun curses, pushing jun-hee forward, "shit. class president, go open it."

jun-hee hesitates before slowly approaching the door, tentatively pushing it open. he backs away immediately after, and you catch a glimpse of a body, slumped against the wall, his head bashed in and barely recognizable. a sick feeling settles in your stomach.

jun-hee's lip trembles, as do his words when he speaks, "he's dead."

everyone is quiet. some people hide their faces or avert their eyes, while others can't seem to remove their gazes away from the scene. you fall into the latter category. every time you blink, you hope that it changes. that the blood disappears and ju-won gets up, unharmed. or that you'll wake up on the bus, realizing it was all just a bad dream.

"the mafia," da-bum sputters, glancing around at his classmates, "t-this is because of the mafia game. what if we all die too?"

kyung-jun grabs him by the collar, shaking him aggressively, "shut up, you bastard. no one's fucking dying."

"heo-yool died." you mumble, earning kyung-jun's attention. his snaps his head towards your own, dark, intense eyes watching you carefully. your hands slowly tighten around your skirt, shaking ever so slightly, "and now ju-won, too. people are already dead because of this game."

he doesn't answer. you don't expect one. what could he say? you blink once more, and although the scene refuses to change, you can imagine it. the brutal murder that occurred while you were asleep. the banging, the screams, the blood slowly spreading across the floor and drying. all while you were fucking asleep. unaware.

you rush out of the room, stomach turning even more, almost to the point of sickness. you brace yourself against the wall, trembling violently as you eagerly gulp down several deep breaths. when that doesn't calm you down, you squeeze your eyes shut, praying the images branded at the front of your vision would go away. you didn't want to think about it anymore, to see it. don't think don't think don't think don't-

someone bumps into your shoulder, and you open your eyes, watching in bewilderment as your classmates start rushing past you. where are they going? did something happen? someone shoves you lightly, and you glance up into kyung-jun's face, "come on, we're leaving."

you furrow your brows in confusion, "to where? the bus is gone."

"i don't fucking know! but anywhere is better than here!"

you step back in surprise, having not expected the harsh tone of his words nor the sour expression on his face. kyung-jun, even more unexpectedly, appears as if he immediately regrets his words or tone. he clenches his jaw, fingers opening and closing by his side. hesitance lays itself around his shoulders, looking over, a shackle of torment. it's all so unlike him. with the things kyung-jun has done, he never seems to carry any sort of guilt. it's a burden he passes to other people.

so why was that look on his face?

you push yourself away from the wall, coming to a decision, "okay. let's go."

you walk past him, and it only takes a couple moments for kyung-jun's footsteps to fall in line with your own. you don't speak the entire way, not until you reach the lobby and push open the doors. you're the last ones to leave the building, a quick scan revealing each of your classmates already outside, rushing out. kyung-jun rushes towards the stairs, his feet landing on the first step, but the alarm blares to life again. he stops.

THE GAME HAS TO BE PLAYED WITHIN THE DESIGNATED AREA.

the announcer repeats the phrase a couple more times, almost like a warning. unease starts to build steadily within your chest.

a vibration occurs within your pocket, and you reach in and pull out your phone, seeing the same warning displayed on the screen with big, bold letters. your eyes find kyung-jun's, who has done the same. irritation and perplexity lay visible on his expression, "fuck, seriously?"

you glance around, wondering what exactly determines the game area. at first you believe it's impossible to tell, and your class would either have to take a chance and leave or stay locked inside the building until further notice. but then you see it. a white line that wasn't there before, right in front of the road. how did you not notice it? it was nighttime when you arrived, but surely you'd see the peculiar placement of it. did you enter the game when you stepped inside?

"guys, hold on." jun-hee yells, and you spot him at the front, near the boundary. he turns around, garnering everyone's attention, "don't leave and stay for a moment."

"why?" a student yells, causing a thoughtful look to befall jun-hee's expression.

"something's strange." he determines finally.

sang-hwan, the student who spoke before, steps forward, "do you believe bullshit like this?" when jun-hee doesn't answer he swears, bolting towards the line, "fuck, whatever! let's go!"

a rush of voices fill the air, a mixture of sang-hwan's name and people yelling at him to stop. you find yourself stepping forward again, but kyung-jun is pulling you back, his grip firm, "hey, hey!"

but it's too late. even if you wanted to do something to save them, sang-hwan and hyeong-seok, his friend who blindly reached out to him, pass the line. they stop just several meters from it.

LEE SANG-HWAN IS BEING EXECUTED FOR BREAKING THE RULE. KIM HYEONG-SEOK IS BEING EXECUTED FOR BREAKING THE RULE.

breaking...the rule? executed?

both boys stumble, pained expressions distorting their features as they clutch at their heads and yell in agony. they look just like heo-yool did the night before he was executed. not themselves. what did they hear? what did they see? they turn towards one another, considering the other for a moment, and your brain can't fully comprehend what happens next. not until they run at full speed and bash their heads together.

a scream escapes your throat, but it's drowned out by the yells and cries coming from the rest of your classmates. they do it once more, over and over again, the sickening crunch of bones breaking and blood spurting resounding across the space. your hands shakily reach up to cover your ears, but it doesn't cease the sounds. you shuffle back slightly, a cry being pulled out of you when you trip over your feet and land on the ground. a rock is being used now, the sharp end already coated in blood, and you close your eyes as the sharp end meets flesh, lowering your head and praying for it to be over.

CRUNCH.

SCREAM.

THUD.

you finally return to your senses when the alarm goes off, the announcers familiar voice declaring what you already knew.

LEE SANG-HWAN AND KIM HYEONG-SEOK WERE CIVILIANS.

were. what an ugly word. and all it took was a minute for it to change.

it's quiet.

around you, your classmates are scattered throughout the lobby. some stay huddled in groups, trembling in fear, while others remain alone, staring blankly into space. your own body sits at the top of the stairs, knees pulled to your chest, blinking slowly in a trance. yoon-seo and jung-won are a couple steps down, falling into the former category of hugging each other in order to provide comfort. how exactly did you get here? the last thing you remember was being on the ground, unable to tear your eyes away from the dead bodies on the road. was it yoon-seo? jung-won? kyung-jun? unlikely for the latter. you search for him in the room, spotting him at the front desk. he sits on top, his arms supporting himself as he leans back. he, too, stares at the ground, not a trace of his usual anger or amusement found on his face.

seung-bin, surprisingly enough, is the one who breaks the silence first. he throws his phone across the ground in frustration, reaching his fingers up to his hair as if to pull it out, "fuck! seriously, why is the phone not working? fuck!"

da-bum scatters towards the device and picks it up, nervously handing it back to the blond. seung-bin sneers at him, snatching it away.

mi-na speaks next, trembling, "what do we do now? won't we die if we stay here?"

"the teacher will come soon." jun-hee announces, but you're not sure if he's trying to reassure your classmates or himself, "let's wait."

"no one's coming." ji-soo cries, her bottom lip quivering. her eyes are bloodshot, and there are tear streaks dried on her face, "how long do we have to stay with the dead bodies? i don't want to!"

"don't call them 'the dead bodies.' " eun-ha scolds, earning her a scoff from the other girl.

"but they're dead. they're dead. what am i supposed to call them? hey!" she turns to jun-hee, angry tears now spilling down her cheeks, "say something! we need to go home!"

"ji-soo," you mumble. your voice must be unexpected, because she immediately quiets down. you can feel the attention of the room on you as you speak, "please be quiet. you crying is not helping anyone. and you saw what happened to them trying to leave. you still say that? leave by yourself then."

her eyes harden as she takes a step forward in your direction, but her boyfriend, yu-jun, immediately pulls her back. once he's assured that she's calmed down, he turns to so-mi, "do you really not know when the teacher's coming back?"

so-mi stops nervously biting her nail, sending a harsh look at yu-jun, "i don't. he can't be reached. how should i know?"

everyone is silent at that, the gravity of the situation dawning upon them. you lower your head once more, pressing your fingers against your temple. we're so fucked.

yoon-seo suddenly gets up, scrambling up the stairs in a hurry. jung-won calls out her name, but when the girl doesn't answer, she decides to follow after her, along with jun-hee several beats later. you think about following them as well, but you feel numb, and your legs feel weak, refusing to move an inch. perhaps not then. you probably wouldn't be of much help anyways.

you drop your head back into your hands, squeezing your eyes shut. if you concentrated hard enough, the echo of breaking bones disappears.

time passes, and it's much of the same. several of your classmates are full on sobbing now, while others talk amongst themselves, trying to think of solutions. you continue sitting alone, listening to the sounds, staring at the dirt on your shoes. your fingers now clutch the edge of your skirt, twisting the fabric, pulling at the threads. you really should stop that. your last skirt was still at the seamstress getting fixed.

eventually, yoon-seo, jung-won and jun-hee return, pulling a whiteboard to the front of the room and scribbling on it with a marker. jun-hee motions for everyone to gather around, accentuating the importance of the discussion. you shakily get up, slowly walking down the steps and pausing at the outskirts of the huddled group. jun-hee points to the board, which now has a map taped beside their notes, and explains the situation briefly. while they were looking around the game area they found a trail, which should lead into a village.

"what if you leave and die like they did earlier?" jin-a asks, skeptical, "what will you do then?"

"i know. isn't it too dangerous?" joo-young pipes in.

"no, it's safe as long as you don't cross the line. i think we can keep walking to the end." jun-hee explains. murmurs erupt across the room, people exchanging unsure glances. you don't blame them. after seeing what happened just an hour before, anyone would be scared of venturing outside. but if the risk could find a way home, maybe it would be best to try.

"it sucks to keep waiting. it won't be a bad idea to try going there," you're not sure if your ears are playing tricks on you, but sure enough, a quick glance in the direction of the voice reveals that it was kyung-jun who spoke, surprising nearly everyone in the room, including yourself. he's actually agreeing with jun-hee? why? "but do we all need to go? it'd be fucking inefficient."

jun-hee nods in understanding, "you're right. we can't all go," he grows quiet for a moment, considering, before making up his mind, "i'll go on my own."

yoon-seo steps forward, "i'll come with you, then."

"no, you should stay, the trail might be treacherous.

jung-won also steps forward, holding onto yoon-seo's arm to softly pull her back, "he's right. you don't want to slow him down. let's just stay."

a worried look crosses over yoon-seo's face, "he can't go alone."

so-mi loops her arm through woo-ram's, all to eager to please as she jumps at the opportunity presented, "we'll come with you."

woo-ram looks at the girl in bewilderment, "w-why me?"

so-mi ignores the boys protests, turning towards her friends. "na-hee, ji-soo and yu-jun, you're coming too, right?"

ji-soo shakes her head, looking slightly offended that the girl would ask in the first place, "no, i'm not going."

"well, i won't go either then." yu-jun agrees, causing so-mi to scoff.

"don't you have any sense of loyalty?" the couple look away in shame, so she directs her attention to na-hee, "na-hee, you're not coming either?"

the girl looks startled for a moment, unsure on how to answer. her dilemma is cut short when hyun-ho steps up, a confident smile on his lips, "look at you guys. you're too weak to hike properly." he steps to the front, pulling dong-hyun along, "we'll come too."

unsurprisingly, na-hee steps forward, raising her hand slightly, "i-i'll go too."

eun-ha steps forward to volunteer as well, but her friends pull her back. worry seeps into their voices and faces, doing anything to convince her to say. their conversation is too low for you to hear, but whatever eun-ha says as she holds onto their hands seems to work, since they let her go with small reluctance.

the group is decided then. you step towards yoon-seo, patting her softly on the back to reassure her. you then turn towards jun-hee, holding up your phone, "be safe. use the group chat on the game if anything happens. it should work."

jun-hee smiles softly, nodding in understanding. he turns to the group, which form a small circle away from the current one. they begin discussing their plan of motion, and you watch the exchange for a moment before turning to leave.

you reach your room, opening and closing the door with practiced ease. it clicks shut, and you immediately slump against the wooden frame, sliding down until you hit the floor. a heavy weight presses down on your chest, overwhelming, and you have to sit there for a moment, curling your fingers around your skirt to steady yourself. if they didn't find anything, what then? would you simply have to play by the game's rules? and if so, how did you even go about finding the mafia?

you release a deep breath, banging your head against the back of the door. the thump is soft, very unlike the ones from this morning, and you repeat the motion a couple more times. eventually, a dull ache starts to form, urging you to stop and blink away the pain. you glance around the room, noting na-hee's things laid messily around her side of the area, a disaster compared to your own bare space. right. you still haven't unpacked. should you do that now? it'd be a good distraction.

a bit of green catches your eye, the fabric sticking out of your duffel bag. curious, you slowly stand up, walking over and pulling it out. kyung-jun's jacket lays in your lap, your fingers softly roaming across it with slight curiosity. with everything that transpired, you completely forgot about it being in your possession. the scene replays in your mind, recalling kyung-jun's red ears, the warmth the piece of clothing provided, and your pounding heart. questions you had back then return, lingering, unrelenting.

everything was so confusing. the game, kyung-jun's interactions with you as of late. it made your emotions feel like a mess, all of it impossible to pinpoint and sort through. still, there was at least one thing you could work through at the moment.

with kyung-jun's jacket folded neatly in your arms, you begin wandering around the building in search of it's owner. your first stop was the lobby, hoping he was still there, but arriving provided no sight of the boy, not even any of your other classmates. you pause, considering your options for a moment. is he in his room? unlikely. you would've heard voices outside your door. the gym? it wouldn't hurt to look. maybe even the pool would be a good place to check. coming to a conclusion, you direct your steps towards the gymnasium.

on the way there you pass by the arcade and snack bar. you recall reading about the rooms while browsing through the app, but with no staff present, it didn't seem worth trying to go in. the arcade's door is still shut, which you expected, but you cease your movements entirely when you notice something odd. the shutters for the snack bar are pulled up, and if you strained your ears to listen, you could hear voices inside.

you slowly step towards the entrance, surprised, but also relieved, to find kyung-jun inside. he sits at a table with seung-bin and jin-a, all three of them eating out of ramen cups. they glance up at your arrival, and your eyes dart between the three. seung-bin and jin-a wear annoyed looks, glaring at you from across the room in an attempt to intimidate you into leaving. kyung-jun, on the other hand, simply stares at you, but there's a ghost of a question passing over his expression.

you clear your throat, slowly holding up the jacket, "i just...came to return this." you mumble quietly. seung-bin and jin-a's expressions morph into shock, turning their heads towards their friend in disbelief. kyung-jun ignores their questioning stares, simply nodding his head towards a nearby table.

"leave it there." he states simply, before resuming his previous task of eating.

you do as told, placing the fabric gently on a nearby table. seung-bin and jin-a have gone back to staring at you, and their attention starts to have the desired effect. you avert your eyes, turning around to leave, only to pause at the sound of your name being called. slowly, you turn back around.

"you like peanuts, right?" seung-bin asks, and there's a mischievous grin on his lips. the one he uses when he's about to say or do something for his own sick enjoyment, "there's some chocolate bars on the shelf, you should try it. they're good."

you blink slowly, unsure whether seung-bin was actually this dumb or if he was playing another game. you open your mouth to speak, only for kyung-jun to do so before you, "hey, are you stupid? she's allergic to peanuts."

seung-bin laughs, sending you a fake apologetic smile, "right, sorry. i forgot."

he didn't. everyone in the class knew about your allergy, whether they wanted to or not. it was so severe that anytime food was brought in, the school had to check it to make sure it didn't have any possibility of harming you. you even carried an EpiPen in the pocket of your skirt, just in case.

a little annoyed now, you turn to leave again, intending to ignore seung-bin's antics and his childish behavior. best not to provoke it. but then a smack echoes in the room, the sound occurring three times in equal succession. you glance back, spotting seung-bin's shocked eyes and kyung-jun's raised hand. he sneers at the blond boy across from him, "no wonder girls don't like you. and i thought it was because of your face."

seung-bin stops laughing, awfully quiet.

kyung-jun clicks his tongue at him, his annoyance slowly diminishing as he grows satisfied at seung-bin's cowered state. eventually, he lifts his eyes towards your own, nodding his head towards the fridge, "go on. there's mango on the bottom shelf."

you glance towards the fridge, contemplating his offer. normally you would deny, considering it was most likely a trap. but the thought of food made your stomach ache, and you realized with a start that you haven't eaten since the night before. without second guessing yourself you cross the room towards the fridge, opening it up to reveal a variety of drinks. sure enough, on the bottom shelf, sits a mango flavored yogurt drink. you reach in and pick it up, sparing one last glance towards kyung-jun before leaving the room in a hurry.

it hits you as you're walking through the halls. you stop entirely, slowly glancing down to stare at the container in your hand. huh, he remembered you liked mango. and about your allergy. you didn't think kyung-jun paid attention to those kind of things. you thought he didn't care about anyone but himself. lately, however, he seemed to be proving your initial assumptions about him wrong. a funny feeling settles in your chest at the realization, something quiet and warm. it slowly creeps up your neck and settles on your face.

your phone vibrates in your pocket, pulling you away from your thoughts. you take it out, turning on the screen, and any semblance of warmth you had was gone without a trace when you read the announcement.

your hand drops to your side, a numbness taking over your body.

dong-hyun is dead.

everyone is gathered in the lobby. anxiousness takes root into everyone's lives, and it's even more apparent as you wait for jun-hee's group to return. your foot is tapping against the floor, your nails pressed against your lips as you continuously look back and forward between the door and your shoes. it's when mi-na breaks the silence and announces their arrival do you lower your hand, rushing forward.

you falter when you approach jun-hee, realizing that your fears were correct. the class president doesn't meet your eyes, a vacant look reflected in them as he stares at the ground. he looks defeated, as does everyone else around him. na-hee is leaning heavily on hyun-ho, sporting what appears to be a broken ankle, and the athletes eyes shine with unshed tears.

"what happened?" you breathe out.

they don't reply. everyone looks away in shame.

mi-na steps forward, glancing between each member of the group in search of something, anything, "hey, say something. where's dong-hyun? what on earth happened?"

"he thought..." so-mi begins, her bottom lip trembling. a sniffle escapes her, "he thought the white line disappeared...and went to check on it, but he slipped."

it feels like a punch to the gut, hearing her words. it strikes itself into the soft tissue of your flesh, throbbing insistently, and you have to force yourself to breathe when it begins to ache.

kyung-jun walks up, stopping in front of jun-hee, "what about the village. how far did you go?" jun-hee doesn't answer, which is an explanation in itself. still, kyung-jun stares in disbelief, his anger rising along with his tone, "you said you'd find people and ask for help! did you?!"

jun-hee's eyes never leave the ground, and he has to all but force the words out, "we can't go. it's all blocked by the lines."

kyung-jun breathes out a shaky breath. his jaw tightens, and he turns around, throwing his phone on the ground with a curse. it slides across the floor, landing at your feet. you glance at it, feeling completely and utterly numb as jun-hee's words repeat in your mind, over and over again. so you're trapped. you have to play. if you don't abide by the rules or find the mafia, you'll die.

how did it come to this?

you reach down and pick up the phone. kyung-jun's case is black, with a red stripe going down the right side. his wallpaper is a photo of a basketball player, probably one in the states. you don't recognize it. you glance back up, searching for his face, studying the tension in his bones and the frustration in his eyes.

how long until that anger diminishes, and there's nothing left but a trace of himself?

you march up to him, and kyung-jun only has a moment to turn and regard you before you're forcefully grabbing his hand and slapping the phone into the palm of it. he blinks in surprise, but you don't say anything as you walk away, disappearing up the steps, an echo of a thought resounding in your head.

kyung-jun could die in this game, and the thought of that haunts you.

it's nighttime now, and there have been no new developments. no new solutions, and no voice to direct you in the game. you're not exactly sure what happens now. do you discuss potential candidates for mafia? do you find another way around the rules?

you turn the corner, pausing when you spot yoon-seo and jung-won at the end. they're talking to da-bum, and the conversation must have just ended, for the boy turns and walks away. you approach the two girls.

"kyung-jun?" you question, to which they nod. you sigh softly in response. of course. you didn't understand why da-bum continued listening to him. he wasn't small by any means. if he tried, he could probably stand his own against either of the three delinquents in a fight. it must be his meek personality that stops him from doing so.

just then you hear cursing and yelling, and the sound of repeated banging. you all share a look before rushing towards the source of the sound, leading you to an office. jun-hee is inside, slamming a phone repeatedly against the desk while he spews out several different curses.

"hey! jun-hee!" yoon-seo rushes forward, preventing jun-hee from continuing his previous actions. beside you, jung-won turns on the lights, washing the room in light and revealing the messy space, "what are you doing?" the phone rings again, and the four of you glance towards it, "isn't that a phone call? what's wrong?" she reaches down to pick up, but jun-hee turns around and takes it from her, slamming it back down.

"just leave it." he mutters.

"what's wrong?" rather than be angry, yoon-seo's voice softens, her eyes creased in worry.

"it's all fake."

"what?"

jun-hee picks up the phone, showing the cut off cord, "the wire wasn't even connected."

you stare at it in disbelief, "seriously?" how did that make any sense? how could the phone ring when it wasn't even connected? and why?

yoon-seo begins checking other phones, her search producing the same result. you glance around the room, rushing towards computers and clicking on mouses and buttons on the monitor. nothing. opening the cabinets beneath the desk provide a similar outcome.

"look at this." you turn towards jung-won, who holds up a binder. inside, there's nothing. not even blank sheets of paper, "it's empty."

"this is hopeless, isn't it?" you mumble. your words feel heavy in the air, and a small part of you regrets voicing it out loud.

the four of you trickle out of the room, finding some couches nearby. you slump into the seat, staring at the ceiling while processing the past 10 minutes. none of it made sense. was some sort of supernatural being involved? did someone piss off the gods?

yoon-seo breaks your contemplative state with a question, "why on earth do you think the person who created the mafia game is doing this?"

"to torture us probably." you mutter bitterly. no one disagrees.

yoon-seo straightens, determination settling on her features, "we need to first figure out who created this game and why."

"where do you think the creator of this game is? were the only ones here right now." jung-won questions.

"what if they come once we fall asleep? that's when they killed ju-won too." jun-hee reasons, only for yoon-seo to shake her head.

"they said the mafia killed ju-won, but our classmates are the only ones on the participants list."

"yoon-seo's right," you chime in, "anyone else would've been on the list. this is between our classmates."

"then," jun-hee begins, concern building steadily on his face, "does that mean one of us killed ju-won?"

yoon-seo nods, albeit a bit hesitantly, "if its according to the rules, i guess so."

you tried to imagine it. one of your classmates, people you've spent the year with, killing someone in cold blood. it was hard. but then again, did they have a choice? it's not like they wanted to be apart of the mafia team. it was just bad luck, plain and simple.

you stand up, gaining your friends attention, "it's gonna be midnight soon. should we find the others?"

jun-hee nods, pushing himself up as well, "yeah, let's go."

the four of you venture down the hall, searching for any sign of your classmates. just as you turn the corner you run into woo-ram, whose entire body sags in relief at the sight of your group. behind him, hyun-ho and na-hee approach.

woo-ram goes up to jun-hee, holding his hands, "hey, i looked everywhere for you. let's go, everyone is about to vote."

jun-hee's eyes widen in disbelief, "they're going to vote again after heo-yool died?"

woo-ram looks down in shame, "the game has to end for us to leave. we have no choice."

"even so, how can we do that again?" yoon-seo asks, and her intention is clear.

how can we pick someone to die?

yoon-seo shakes her head more forcefully now, refusing woo-ram's words, "we need to stop them. we shouldn't vote."

"how can we stop them?" jung-won asks, a thoughtful look crossing over her face, "we need a plan to persuade them."

"i'll persuade them," jun-hee announces, facing woo-ram once more, "are they all gathered?"

the boy shakes his head, "no, they're in several rooms."

"let's gather everyone first."

"i'll help too." na-hee chimes in.

yoon-seo startles suddenly, glancing between everyone currently present, "where is da-bum?"

"oh," you mumble, coming to the same conclusion. she knew who da-bum was with, but not where. this wasn't good, "kyung-jun figured out a way to open the snack bar. he's probably there."

hyun-ho lets out a harsh breath, "geez, those damn bastards. they really get on my nerves."

jun-hee nods his head towards the stairs "come on, lets go."

everyone rushes towards the snack bar, every second that passes making the agitation in jun-hee's and hyun-ho's demeanor grow. when you arrive, jun-hee throws open the door, yelling at the trio. you're the last one in, and you catch a glimpse of da-bum on the floor, held down by seung-bin and jin-a. kyung-jun sits in a chair across from him, and he glances up at your arrival, meeting your eyes for a brief moment.

"that's enough," jun-hee rushes over to da-bum, pulling jin-a off while yoon-seo pulls seung-bin away. he looks between the three culprits, and you can't remember the last time you've seen jun-hee look so pissed off. it was a little scary, "what are you guys doing?"

none of them answer, so you take the opportunity to walk over and help yoon-seo in pulling da-bum off the floor. you can feel kyung-jun's eyes watching your every movement.

hyun-ho tsks in mock disappointment, "one against three? aren't you embarrassed of yourselves?"

kyung-jun stands up then, ignoring hyun-ho as he yanks da-bum by the collar towards him, "where do you think you're going?"

jun-hee pushes kyung-jun back, but his grip remains strong. jun-hee's frustration spikes, "hey, that's enough. come with us. we need to discuss something."

kyung-jun snaps his attention towards jun-hee, scoffing in disbelief, "why should i listen to you?" when he doesn't answer he shoves jun-hee aside, yelling, "hey! you!"

hyun-ho shoves kyung-jun just as forcefully, "dammit, hey!"

kyung-jun doesn't regain his footing right away, stumbling over a chair. hyun-ho glances at him, up and down, regarding him with little interest. everyone starts to trail out of the room, including hyun-ho, who nudges you along. you spare a glance at kyung-jun, noting his anger, the way he wears it. why couldn't you just leave it at the door, kyung-jun, just this once?

you're almost to the door, next to jung-won, when you hear it. kyung-jun's yell and the sound of a crash. you turn around and a box of candies lay at da-bum's feet. you jump back slightly, startled.

kyung-jun breathes heavily, his lips curled up into a sneer, "why should i listen, you son of a bitch? come here."

hyun-ho glances at the discarded box, releasing a tired sigh, "fucking bastards." he mutters under his breath. he turns around, going over to a can of chips, sizing it up in his hand, "words don't get through to you, huh? you need a beating."

no. you know where this is going. it was expected, of course. the tension the past 24 hours and their frustrations steadily rising, slowing boiling over. but no matter how you look at it, it doesn't end well.

kyung-jun is rearing back for a punch when you dash forward, only to get pulled back by a pair of arms. jun-hee's hold on you is tight, unrelenting even as you struggle in his grip and scream at him to let you go. but he doesn't listen, and you're forced to watch as the two boys fight. bodies are thrown, objects used to hurt the other. it's when kyung-jun is flipped onto the ground and hyun-ho straddles him, his fingers tight around his neck, do you panic once more, your efforts even more frantic.

"stop it!" you scream, staring helplessly as kyung-jun's face turns red, his legs thrashing, "stop it, you'll kill him!"

"let the fuck go! let go, you son of a bitch!" kyung-jun screams, his fingers reaching up to rip hyun-ho's fingers away. it doesn't work.

"will you listen?" hyun-ho threatens. instead of answering, kyung-jun flails around even more, causing hyun-ho to tighten his grip, "will you do as we say!"

"hyun-ho!" you scream.

kyung-jun releases another yell before ceasing his struggle entirely, "alright, you motherfucker!"

hyun-ho finally lets go, and jun-hee releases you. you step forward, watching kyung-jun on the ground. he's breathing heavily, his fingers ghosting over the red marks embedded into the skin on his neck. he finally sits up, his eyes set on hyun-ho, then on a desk towards the side. you switch your gaze between the two, realizing what he had in mind. as kyung-jun picks up the scissors and marches over to hyun-ho you rush forward, gripping his upper arms and pushing him back.

"stop it, just stop!" you plead desperately.

kyung-jun pauses, glancing down at you. his jaw is tight, his eyes blazing, but they waver when they settle on you.

"what are you thinking, huh?" you whisper, studying his face carefully, trying to find an answer. your bottom lip trembles as you speak, "getting into fights and trying to...to what? kill hyun-ho? what will people think?"

jung-won comes up behind you, "don't waste your breath," she looks at kyung-jun, who directs his attention to her, "i think they'll all start voting once we give them the go. how about it?" she waves her phone tauntingly, "should i click your name?"

his face twists in anger again, moving his body to step towards her, "you fucking bitch-"

you push kyung-jun back once more, softer this time. he doesn't fight it, and you take another step closer, reaching for his hands and holding them gently in your own. he focuses on you, and once again his demeanor changes, wavering ever so slightly, "please kyung-jun. this isn't some game anymore. people are dying, and you'll be next if you don't stop." you curl your fingers around his own, your grip firm, "put it down, and i swear we won't say anything. please."

he chews the inside of his gums, contemplating your words. he glances up, examining everyone in the room. eventually, he looks back down at you, and slowly, his fingers relax around the scissors, allowing possession to switch to your hand. he backs away, slumping down into a chair in defeat.

"we'll all gather in the auditorium," yoon-seo announces, pointedly looking at each of the men beaten up on the ground, "you guys should come too." one by one, everyone shuffles out. hyun-ho remains at the door for a moment. kyung-jun lifts up his head, narrowing his eyes in silent hatred.

"keep the snack bar open for everyone." he turns to leave, but pauses when he notices your failure to follow. he calls out your name, "you coming?"

you don't take your eyes off of kyung-jun, examining his face. there are cuts on his nose and cheek, bruises slowly forming in other places around it. an ache echoes in your chest, a sort of hurt that forms at the sight of someone you care for suffering. your words leave your mouth before you can think better of it, "yes. in a minute. i'll meet you there."

he hesitates for a moment before slipping away, leaving just you, kyung-jun and his friends in the room. kyung-jun is the first to break eye contact, averting his gaze towards the ground, frustration steadily making its way onto his features. he kicks at a stray can, the object sliding across the floor as he swears.

unfazed, you shorten the distance between you two, reaching over and pulling on his jacket. another swear word escapes his lips, harshly pushing your hand away, "get off of me."

"kyung-jun." your voice is cold and serious, a tone you rarely use with anyone. it's a demand. the boy glances up, his glaring even more intensified, but you don't waver, standing your ground, waiting patiently for the moment his resolve falters. when it does, kyung-jun swears one last time before getting up. he trails after you silently.

you lead him to the infirmary, pushing the door open and stepping inside. you stop by one of the beds, facing him for a moment to speak, "sit." you tell him, and he slumps down without a word. even so, kyung-jun complains silently. his fingers grip the sheets beneath him, and his head hangs low, the tic in his jaw moving from time to time. was he sulking? the sight of it is almost cute if you weren't so angry with him.

you step towards the nurses desk, opening cabinets and grabbing the supplies you need. when you return, you have a box of band-aids, q-tips and a bottle of disinfectant. you take your position on the space beside kyung-jun, your knees brushing, your body angled towards his own. he glances at you, at the supplies in your hand, and grumbles before mirroring your body language. nervousness builds in your throat, and you swallow thickly to let it pass before starting.

you get to work patching up his face. kyung-jun doesn't make a sound. doesn't even move. just stares at you silently, his eyes intense, carefully following your movements as you press the q-tips against the cut on his cheek and across his nose. luckily, your hands don't tremble as they work, and your breaths come out even, despite being so close to his face. gently, you place the last band-aid over his cut, leaning back ever so slightly to inspect your work.

oh. that was a mistake.

from your position, you can see kyung-jun's face more clearly. there is no emotion guarding his expression, just kyung-jun, raw and untouched. blue moonlight washes delicately over his features, which, other than the bruising and recent injuries, contains no blemishes. not a freckle or a beauty mark. something settles in your chest then, attention pinned to his roughed up state. it wasn't pity. it was something more tender than that, something similar to the warmth you felt earlier in the day. you can't stop yourself from feeling concern morph its way onto your features, or the way your hand reaches up and touches the bruise on his cheek. kyung-jun flinches, and you retract the slightest bit, but he doesn't move, doesn't speak, just continues examining you silently, waiting. you reach forward and touch it again, gentler this time. he allows you.

"it must have hurt." you mumble, brushing your fingers across it softly. you recall the fear you felt, the desperation when kyung-jun was on the floor, facing death. an ache builds within your chest, deep inside your bones.

kyung-jun narrows his eyes in suspicion, "why?"

you blink, tilting your head slightly, "why what?"

"i didn't ask for your sympathy." this time he pushes your hand away, standing up. he looks down at you, his anger slowly returning to it's rightful place, "don't use me as some charity case to fulfill your own moral dilemmas."

you lean back, startled, and you feel your own frustration build. your words are coated thickly in disbelief, "is that what you think this is?"

"what else could it be?"

"do i have to spell it out for you?" you stand up, lifting your head to meet his gaze head on. the words spill out quickly, one after the other, "because i want to, kyung-jun. because i care." you didn't realize the truth of it until you spoke it out loud. when did that happen? when did kyung-jun force himself a place inside your heart?

kyung-jun retracts slightly, as if he didn't expect that answer. for a moment, his walls crumble, but he's quick to put the pieces back together, "well don't."

he turns, leaving the room with a purposeful stride. you watch him for a moment, still in utter disbelief, before rushing after him, "hey, don't tell me what to feel, kyung-jun."

"fine!" he snaps, continuing on. he doesn't spare you a single glance, "do whatever you want. i don't give a fuck."

you release a frustrated breath at his response. isn't that funny? how kyung-jun is the only one capable of bringing out these emotions in you. for so long, you felt like a ghost wandering the earth, barely even really alive. an empty shell of a human being. it was a relief to feel so many things at once, even if it was the ugly emotions, "why are you so difficult?"

he swings back around, and you almost bump into him from the suddenness of the motion, "you're the one making this so damn difficult. you're the one who-" he pauses, and if you didn't know any better, you would think it's panic that comes across his face then. you want to question it, but kyung-jun swings back around before you can, his stride purposeful once more, "you're annoying. now leave me the fuck alone."

you curse him under your breath, continuing your chase once more.

you make it to the gym, and upon entering, everyone turns to stare at the two of you. kyung-jun curses them as he crosses the room, "the fuck you all looking at?"

his words cause everyone to glance away, continuing their previous tasks. you clear your throat, slowly resuming your steps as well. you assume your position next to hyun-ho, who sends you a questioning glance. you ignore it, directing your attention towards the front of the room where jun-hee stands.

"the reason we gathered you here isn't to choose who to vote for. it's to convince you not to vote at all." jun-hee announces, resulting in several murmurs of confusion throughout the gym.

"don't vote at all?" hyun-ho asks, an edge of doubt laced in his tone, "can we do that?"

"if we vote, someone will die no matter what. but if no one votes, everyone can live."

mi-na steps forward, "what if someone secretly votes after we all agree not to? what happens then?"

"she's right. how can we trust everyone?" ji-soo asks.

"we'll have to make everyone trust each other," jun-hee goes quiet for a moment, thinking, before coming to a conclusion, "we can collect all the phones so no one can vote."

everyone ponders the idea, as do you. no voting. would that truly work? it wasn't stated in the rules, but then again, leaving the boundaries of the game wasn't explicitly said either. what if things went wrong like last time?

eun-ha perks up, the first to agree to the terms, "yeah, no one can vote if we collect all the phones. we can do that."

"who's going to manage the phones? that person might change their mind." ji-soo questions, causing yoon-seo to step forward.

"we can collect them and leave them in the middle for all to see."

"yeah, we can all keep an eye on them." jung-won agrees.

"what if someone steals them?" mi-na asks. when no one answers she steps back, shaking her head, "i don't want to. i'm not handing mine in."

people start talking amongst themselves, a mixture between compliance and reluctance. you turn towards hyun-ho, "do you think this is safe?"

hyun-ho grins at your question, turning his body to face your own, "what, you scared? don't worry, i'll protect you."

you glance away, unimpressed, "save the chivalry for na-hee" hyun-ho falters, and you lift an eyebrow in question, almost in disbelief, "come on, you know she likes you."

hyun-ho never gets the chance to respond, for a new voice enters the argument. kyung-jun breathes out in annoyance, "you guys are fucking noisy." he lifts himself up from the bench he was previously slumped on, picking up a yellow trashcan and approaching the middle of the circle, "class president is saying something right for fucking once. why aren't you all cooperating?" he puts it down in front of jun-hee, turning around to face the rest of the class, "you need to hand your phone in so no one can vote. every one of you better hand them in," he pulls out his own phone, holding it up as proof. he turns towards hyun-ho, his expression eerily blank. what was he up to? "hand it in while i say it nicely." his eyes slide over to your own before dropping the phone in the trashcan with a soft thud.

no one else moves, so you take it upon yourself to pull out your phone and walk up to the trashcan. it drops inside, and you avoid looking kyung-jun in the face as you turn around and assume your previous spot.

kyung-jun goes around with the bucket, and everyone puts their phone in with quiet reluctance. he places it in the center of the room, turning back around to face you and hyun-ho. he glances between you two, scoffs, then sits back down on a bench.

it's silent then. na-hee now sits in a chair beside hyun-ho, nervously fiddling with the strap of her bag, and your own nervous habits arise as you fiddle with the edge of your skirt. the alarm echoes at the one minute mark until midnight.

ONE MINUTE LEFT UNTIL VOTING ENDS.

the energy in the room intensifies. everyone is on edge, waiting anxiously for the moment to arrive. unknowingly, your teeth begin worrying at your bottom lip, your knuckles turning white around your school uniform. seung-bin yells in frustration, turning towards jun-hee.

"hey, class president! are you sure this is okay?"

"let's wait for now. it's not even midnight yet." jun-hee calmly responds, causing the voices to quiet down once more.

eventually, the clock passes midnight, and nothing happens.

woo-ram gets up from the floor, "hey...hey hey! it's past midnight, and there's no announcement. did...did it work?"

"we're fine now, right?" so-mi confirms.

everyone starts cheering then, embraces exchanged and relieved tears streaking down faces. you glance at na-hee and hyun-ho, catching sight of the girl flinging her arms around his neck, pulling him into an embrace. normally, you would've felt a semblance of joy at the scene, but unease refuses to release it's hold on you. the hair on the back of your neck stands up, goosebumps erupting across your flesh. something doesn't feel right. you continue chewing on your bottom lip.

an alarm erupts to life, and you glance up, heart pounding.

PARTICIPANTS MUST VOTE TO TRACK DOWN THE MAFIA.

the phones in the bucket start blaring in alarm, a chorus of dings and warnings erupting from that single container. the sound rattles in your bones, echoing in your ears.

joo-young tries running towards it, but hyun-ho stops her, "hey! what are you doing?"

"what do you think? if i don't do anything and die, will you fucking take responsibility?" she screams.

"she's right." mi-na agrees, also moving her body to rush towards the bucket. this time jun-hee is the one to stop her from continuing.

"guys hold on! hold on! we don't know yet."

"know what?" joo-young seethes, frustrated tears spilling down her cheeks, "the game will just progress as it did."

"if we die because of you," mi-na begins, stepping towards jun-hee. her eyes are cold, her teeth clenched, "will you take responsibility?"

so-mi steps forward in defense, "hey! don't blame jun-hee for no reason and calm down."

mi-na stares at her for a moment before turning around, clearly pissed. she only takes three steps before a body falls down in front of her, the impact of it hitting the ground echoing loudly in the gym. she jumps, backing away, as do others around her.

you fall down at the sight, legs giving out beneath you, heart pounding rapidly inside your chest. you stare at the lifeless body just several meters from your own, the limbs bent in unnatural ways, a pool of blood slowly spilling across the floor.

LEE SOO-BIN AND PARK JI-HOON WILL BE EXECUTED FOR VIOLATING THE RULES.

the girl slowly pushes herself up until she's standing straight. blood drips down the side of her head, her eyes missing their pupils. she takes a step forward in your direction, and you scoot back, fear striking itself between your ribs. a body drops down on top of her, landing just inches away from you. a scream rips itself from your throat, piercing. you squeeze your eyes shut and press your palms against your ears.

LEE SOO-BIN AND PARK JI-HOON WERE CIVILIAINS.

there was that word again. were.

"we need to vote. we'll die if we abstain!"

you both hear and feel people rushing past you, a chorus of yells and swears muffled by the hands still pressed tightly against your head. you shake your head numbly, willing the images of the dead bodies to go away. bodies. you can't even call them by name anymore, huh?

the sound of lights dying with a buzz causes you to snap your eyes open, immediately being greeted by darkness. red lights replace them, turning on and off, flashing, the alarm more consistent now. warning you all to do something in order to survive. someone bumps into you again, and you feel pain erupt in your shoulder. then, a pair of hands are gripping your upper arms, shaking you aggressively, pulling you away from your blank state. you glance up, meeting kyung-jun's anxious eyes.

"what the fuck are you doing?" he shouts, rapidly scanning your face.

you can't answer. your lips tremble, moving, but no sounds come out.

kyung-jun swears, releasing you and rushing towards the chaos. you call out his name, but he doesn't listen, shoving people aside as he drops down to his knees and searches the ground. the sight of him, desperate and fearful, forces you to get up and rush towards him, rapidly assessing the ground beside him. around you, people are screaming, cursing, and the announcement continues calling out names. it never seems to end.

he picks up a phone, swears and throws it across the room. he picks up another, and shoves it in your hand, "now hurry up and vote!"

you take it, fingers still trembling, staring at the sight of all your classmates names and images displayed on the screen. but who do you vote for? who do you decide who lives and dies? kyung-jun is still staring at you, waiting, so you pick the first name you see.

"hyun-ho!"

you turn, and na-hee is screaming from the ground, her tears glistening under the red light. hyun-ho's back faces her, slowly stumbling away, and with horror, you realize the meaning behind her anguished cries and his strange behavior. you feel a cry get caught in your throat.

"no. no no no no no." you mumble repeatedly to yourself, moving to get up. you rush towards him, pulling at his jacket, but he shoves you back, hard, and you fall to the ground with a cry. you watch helplessly as he goes towards the stairs, hearing na-hee's screams, the alarm blaring, the voice calling out names and occupations.

his body falls. his bones crack. it swings from side to side.

JANG HYUN-HO WAS A CIVILIAN.

the red lights turn off, the alarm stops, and the room is engulfed in quiet and darkness for a few moments. then, the lighting returns to normal, as if nothing had transpired.

THE VOTING HAS ENDED. BY POPULAR VOTE OF 10 VOTES, BAEK EUN-HA WILL BE EXECUTED. BAEK EUN-HA IS A CIVILIAN.

you search for the girl in the room, finding her on the floor, sobbing violently. she shakily pushes herself up to stand, her sobs growing louder as she goes up to different people in the room, "i told you i was a civilian. i told you i wasn't the mafia!"

you shut out her cries, directing your attention towards na-hee, who is still on the ground, her tears now silent. her sad eyes stare blankly into space, her lips trembling. you shuffle towards her, pulling on the sleeve of her uniform. "na-hee. we have to go."

she doesn't budge. doesn't even look at you, "why? hyun-ho is gone."

it's like a slap to the face, saying it out loud. hyun-ho is dead. he will never make it to the national team. he will never look at you with that genuine concern of his. his presence will never calm the people around him. your lips tremble, several tears escaping your own face, "na-hee, please. if we don't go, the mafia will come and-"

she starts crying even more, her wails striking a deep ache within your chest. but this time, she doesn't protest as you help her up and guide her towards the group still standing in the center of the room.

you get there just as eun-ha is rushing out the room. no one runs after her nor calls out for her to return. you help na-hee to the floor, dropping down beside her. your classmates don't make a sound, the despair hanging above their heads, weighing heavy on their shoulders. you find kyung-jun several feet away, slumped into a chair, his head hanging low and his hands clasped together. a part of you aches to reach over and offer a semblance of comfort.

from above, the same song from last night comes on, rendering you helpless. you close your eyes, body dropping to the floor with a soft thud.

NIGHT HAS COME.

part three.

#fluff #angst #ko kyung jun #kyung jun #night has come #kyung jun x reader #ko kyung jun x reader #kyung jun/reader #ko kyung jun/reader

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yellowjacketsfashion · 8 months ago

Text

While there are lots of options as to where you can buy a replica of the Yellowjackets Letterman Jacket, they’re not always easily attainable. Last year for halloween I made my own letterman and I figured others could find my process helpful. (The supplies I used were things I already had or were accessible to me but there are other ways to create the same thing. If you have different materials that also work feel free to make suggestions or use them in your process).

HOW TO MAKE A YELLOWJACKETS LETTERMAN JACKET:

Supplies:

• Gold/Navy Letterman jacket

• Printer

• White Printer paper

• Gold Felt

•Chalk

• Heat ‘n Bond

• Embroidery floss in the colors White, Black, Gold and Gray (I ended up needing two packs of white).

• Embroidery needle

• White (or light colored) tissue paper

• White fabric (I used cotton)

• Embroidery hoop

• (Optional) White and Black thread

• Glue stick

Step 1: Aquire your jacket.

You can do a lot of different things for the plain base jacket. I bought mine off Amazon but if wanted too you could probably sew one or buy one second hand etc. The only specification is that it’s Gold and Navy. It is important to do this first because everything else builds off of this step.

Step 2: Print out designs.

Use the photos I provided below and paste them into a word document. From there you can size them up or down to reach the size that you like for printing. The “Yellowjackets” logo is for the back of the jacket so when I did it I kind of split the photo in half and put it on two different pages. In the end it turned out to be just shy of 13 inches length wise. The round patch goes on the front and mine was 4.25 inches in diameter.

Depending on the size of your jacket your patches can be bigger or smaller, but once your happy with the sizing you can then move onto the next step.

Step 3: Gather supplies.

The gold felt is to be used to create the back patch. Because of the size of mine I was able to get a little 50 cent sheet of it (I was able to place the logo at an angle to fit it) but because the patch sizes will be different it’s important to bring your print out of the logo when shopping to make sure you have enough. Most craft / fabric stores should have this in stock. It’s also a good idea to bring your letterman jacket with you to try to color match the shades of gold/yellow as best as possible.

The embroidery hoop, floss, white fabric, and thread are for the front patch as I hand embroidered mine but in theory you could use an embroidery machine or printable fabric sheets to create your patch. If you use these other methods you’ll need different supplies and different instructions that I can’t give.

The Heat ‘n Bond is to iron the patches onto your jacket so they stick (though I’ve had to re iron my back patch because the fibers of the wool make it hard to stick to). It will essentially act as double sided tape.

Step 4: Creating & attaching the back patch

• Cut out a piece of Heat n’ Bond that covers the area where your logo will go.

(i am using colored paper in the example pictures. Yellow represents the felt. White represents the heat and Bond).

• Once you have the right sized piece of Heat n’ Bond, iron it onto the back of your piece of Gold felt (make sure to follow the instructions on the Heat n’ bond packaging).

•Use your printed template of the logo and cut out the words on the felt. You can cut out the logo on paper first and trace it or attach the paper to the felt and just cut them both at the same time. (I moved the dot on the J down so that it’s still attached just to make it easier but you can do whatever you want).

• Put on your Letterman and use the chalk to mark where on the back you want the patch to go. For this step it can be helpful to have someone else assist you (though it’s possible to do it yourself).

• Take off the jacket and lay it flat to align the patch up with your chalk markings. Once it is where you want it you can Iron it onto the back of the jacket (according to the instructions on the Heat n’ Bond).

You now have a finished back patch!

Step 5: Creating the front patch.

• Trace the design of the front patch onto tissue paper (I would suggest a dark pen or sharpie so you can see it really well). If you have trouble seeing the design underneath it can be helpful to hold it to a window pane when it’s sunny or another light source. The photo of the logo I included has a white border around the black words but the patch in the show doesn’t have it so I just ignored it. From there you glue the traced tissue paper onto the fabric.

• Cut out a piece of white fabric big enough for your embroidery hoop and glue the tissue paper sketch onto the fabric.

• Put the fabric/tissue paper into the Embroidery hoop.

• Thread the needle and start embroidering the design. I found it good to use different techniques on different areas of the patch (long white stitches on the wings versus short ones on the background etc. I also thought it was helpful to embroider in color groupings (so like white all at once or yellow all at once etc. so you don’t have to switch out the floss that much). Save the white outer circle and black outline for last though to help clean everything up. The white and black sewing thread can be used to outline smaller details or neaten up some of the floss.

• Once the patch is done cut out a piece of Heat n’ Bond that covers the back of the patch.

• Put on your jacket and mark with chalk where you want to put the patch. In the show it’s placed by the second from the top button. (See Jackie reference photo at the top of the post).

• Iron on the Heat n’ Bond to the back of the patch (following packet instructions).

• Iron the Patch to the jacket based on your chalk markings.

• You have completed the front patch!

Above are some photo examples of my jacket (please ignore my messy hair in the left picture, being in the snow got it ruffled up).

Sorry for the long post but I think I got everything covered. I hope you guys found this helpful but if you have any questions about the jacket, my process, or anything else feel free to ask!

#yellowjackets #fashion #costume #diy #jackie taylor #taissa turner #akilah yellowjackets #gen yellowjackets #shauna shipman #natalie scatorccio #van palmer

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sanakimohara · 1 year ago

Text

“SUREAL SATISFACTION” K. S. Pt. 2

…part 2. I keep my promises. 🖤 I MIGHT write a pt 3..not to sure about that yet....

[ MDNI ]

++++++++

"…and then sign here for this one." The delivery man held out his iPad for you, resting the electronic pen in your hand with a smile, and despite your nerves running rampant, you flashed one back before scribbling letters that somewhat resembled Seungmin's name.

It wasn't perfect, but it was good enough for you.

"Alright, thank you, miss. Have a wonderful evening." He took his belongings, rushing down the hall before you could utter a word back, and left you alone with your package in your arms while Seungmin's box lay at your feet.

You stared down at the flat, medium-sized box, curious about what was inside but uncomfortable asking or analyzing it for clues.

It was his package, which meant it was his business and certainly not yours.

Open it. Seungmin won't notice. Just one peek won't hurt…

A tiny voice in your head begged you to open it, chanting question after question as you picked it up with your free hand, but you ignored the twinge of curiosity to focus on your purchase.

"Sign for it."

That's all he had asked you to do…

However, when you set Seungmin's box on the kitchen island, you noted how heavy it felt. Whatever was in there had some weight to it.

The sound of metal jingling inside indicated multiple items were enclosed, too. These were small details….but they were enough to make you stare at it for a while longer, more curious than ever, but ultimately decided to stamp out your temptation to pry with the eagerness to glimpse your package instead.

You left the kitchen, heading straight for your room and shutting yourself inside before sitting in the middle of your bed with the large box. There wasn't a single label on it, the shipping stamp was strategically hidden at the bottom, and the clear tape holding it all together was layered at least twice.

You thanked whatever higher power there was that Seungmin was still out because if he'd been at home, you would've never gotten past the kitchen without hearing questions from the older. He'd pester you just for fun; gaining a personal moment of entertainment from you was his favorite pastime, and though you tried to ignore his callous comments, you'd always engage in his antics.

For now, he was gone, and you were slightly relieved. No chance of interruptions, guilt, or teasing from him.

Wasting no more time, you grabbed your pastel-colored pocket knife from your nightstand, flipping it open before slicing it through the tape. "Holy…sh- wow.." you whispered in disbelief as you opened the box, an intricate machine neatly folded inside with added accessories and rope set on top of it, taking your breath away. You had prepared yourself to feel shameful -at least a sense of remorse- about having to buy an automatic sex toy -complete with bindings and remote. But not a slither of those emotions were felt.

Elation.

That's what coursed through you.

You were beyond happy, grateful even, and the grin on your face as you unpacked everything made it obvious.

With everything laid out on your bed, the box long discarded somewhere in your dimly lit room, and the instruction booklet in your hands, you started to put it together.

Every direction was followed to the letter, and thirty minutes later, you were done. "That was way easier than I thought…" you mumbled to yourself, slowly stripping your clothes off and getting comfortable on the bed. You sat up for a couple of seconds, rerunning the setup instructions in your head just in case you needed to free yourself suddenly. Then, when you were confident unbinding yourself wouldn't be a problem, you started tying the restraints.

You bound your wrists first, pulling the rope around them tight with your teeth before you tied your ankles to their respective cuffs. You relaxed then, lying back into your warm covers with a soft sight as you nibbled on your bottom lip. The remote was clasped tightly in your left hand, covered in the same silicone material that the dildo was -except it wasn't drenched in cold, clear lubricant.

Do I really want to do this? You asked yourself, eyes sliding closed as you tried to weigh your options, but then the memory of Seungmin scandalously moaning your name -knowing full well you could hear him….and the sloppy sounds of his cock fucking his fist to the thought of you…

That was enough motivation for you.

It was all you needed.

"Fuck it…." You hiss, giving up on logic as the events of last night corrupt your brain, reminding you precisely who and what was making you do such vile things in the first place.

"Click"

The remote buzzed to life as you hit the large 'start' button in the middle, prompting the artificial cock to press straight past your folds, and the stretch it inflicted on your cunt had your mouth falling open to let out a lazy moan. Maybe it was the lack of sex for nearly a month or the fact that you could only imagine Seungmin sinking into you the same way, but the usual pain that came with forceful entry drifted to pleasure unnaturally fast for you.

You knew it was the latter reason, his name tumbling off your tongue like a soft song the longer you fucked yourself. Your body was trembling, collecting a cold sweat as the fleshy cock tapped against your cervix, slowing and quickening its pace based on how many times you tapped the arrows on the remote.

Moments. It took mere moments for your slippery walls to tighten around the dildo, covering it with a thick glaze of cum. You couldn't utter a word as the overpowering orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, causing your toes to curl and your hands to shake so bad that you dropped the remote. You should've panicked then but were perpetually stuck on the rise of another climax as the toy remained on.

Coming once should be enough….

One… I only need to come once.

That's what you tried to convince yourself as your hips rolled to fuck your cunt harder onto the contraption. It felt too gratifying to stop; the sound of your wet cunt being split open echoed around the room, mixing with your high-pitched moans, and the combination pulled you further from reality. Every time you came -which went uncounted after the third time- Seungmin was present in your fuzzy train of thought.

The heat of his hands when he grabbed your hips to move past you in a tight space. That infamous smirk he'd give you during tidbit arguments and how his voice lowered when he addressed you by those pet names you hated but counted the seconds between him repeating them.

All the minuscule praises he'd give you at the oddest moments, followed by his eyes rolling when you didn't accept his compliments….

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

"I'm going out tonight. I'll be back late, so don't wait up for me."

He gave you a once-over stare, licking his lips as you sauntered around your apartment, "Have fun, pretty girl. I'll still be here when you get back."

You scoffed, resisting the urge to smile at his chaste flirting, "I know I'm pretty Min. You don't have to remind me…"

Seungmin chuckled, eyes fixated nowhere near your face as you slipped on your heeled boots. "I'll remind you as much as I want, sweetheart…" he retorts matter of factly.

You roll your eyes, fighting back a blush as you stand and head for the door. Seungmin's gaze burns into your backside right up until you slam the front door behind you.

"Bye, baby!" He yells loud enough for you to hear down the hall, and you groan before shouting back, "I am not your baby, Kim Seungmin!" And like clockwork, you can hear his laugh echoing in the apartment.

"You will be soon," he mumbled as the sounds of your heels clicking down the hall faded.

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

His laugh is always condescending but oh so sweet. He gets away with so much, insults you when it suits his mood, and you get off to it like some twisted fiend.

Even now, with your nerves on fire and your core ramping up another coil of pleasure. You imagined the pure delight Seungmin would get from teasing you.

The thought brought a tired smile to your face as your head pressed back into the pillows, your back arching slightly while the knot in your stomach slipped loose, and the sound of his name vibrated the air around you as dribbles of cum leaked from your entrance.

"Seungmin…" you whined loudly, on the verge of cringing from overstimulation, and your body reflexively writhing away from the dildo. There was no escape from it, and you were too dazed to untie yourself to reach for the remote and hit 'pause.'

It's been so long.

You couldn't bring yourself to end it so soon….

God, you should've thought because the sound of Seungmin's heavy footsteps as he shouted, "What do you need, sweetheart? I just got home…" in response to you calling his name had you panicking within seconds.

Was he back?!??? Since when?!? How did I not hear him?….fuck fuck fuck!….

You were torn between yelling at him to not come in and reaching for the tiny remote that had fallen to the floor. Either option would take a toll on your already fucked out state, but unfortunately for you, Seungmin had pushed your door open just as you made a decision.

You groaned in embarrassment as he stared down at you, emotionless and unmoving. You stared back at him through the fallen strands of your hair, swallowing a whimper as your gaze met his, and your pussy pulsing harder around the toy at the sight of him.

Seungmin didn’t utter a word for a solid minute, contemplating if what he was seeing was real and trying his best not to climb on top of you and replace the shitty excuse for a cock so he could fuck you right himself.

He only snapped out of his daze when he saw your soft and slightly swollen lips move to speak to him.

"Please…Min…could you…help me?" Your purring tone flipped a switch in Seungmin, dragging a heavy breath from the man as he slowly walked over to the edge of your bed. You gazed up at him with puppy dog eyes, hoping he'd take a little pity on you and end the tortuous embarrassment you felt without question.

"Min, please…just-just turn it off…nd' I'll explain-" He shook his head, chuckling in disbelief as you begged for his help, "Help you?" He repeats your question, eyes going dark as you nod in response, "Yes…" you mumble.

Seungmin turns his head, a smile plastered on his face as he watches the dildo plunge in and out of your dripping cunt, each thrust causing your thighs to tremble, and he feels a twinge of jealousy knowing he's not the cause of the reaction instead.

"No." He flat-out refuses your request, and your heart drops. "W-what why? Min, please-"You attempt to reason with him but choke on your words as he clasps a hand over your mouth and trails the other down the center of your body.

You wriggle under his touch, eyes flickering from his face to the hand inching towards your puffy clit. Seungmin places a knee on your bed, leaning closer to your spread form as he greedily studies its fluctuations. Your breasts draw his attention first, gently swaying as you squirm in his hold, but his focus quickly shifts to your cunt as he circles two fingers around your budding clit.

You jolt from the added friction, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he lightly slaps your bundle of nerves before returning to rubbing it slowly. His pants grow tighter as your muffled cries switch between excited moans and shaky screams.

A smile tugs at his lips, ears prickling with satisfaction, and his cock twitching the louder you get. "You sound so much prettier moaning like bitch in heat," Seungmin taunts. Pressing your head harder into the pillows when you try to shake his hand off.

The rough action makes you immobile, vulnerable to his touch and the endless fullness the dildo provides. You fidget with the restraint on your wrists, able to loosen the rope just enough to slip a hand out to grip the collar of his shirt. He grimaces as your manicured nails dig into his skin through the fabric, leaving one of many marks you'd inflict on him for the night, and Seungmin was prepared to endure every single one.

He'd waited for this long enough.

You could fight him all you wanted, but his mind was set, and your body betrayed every protest you made. Seungmin shrugged your hand off his shoulder with ease, giving your cunt a light slap as you came undone for what felt like the hundredth time. Your chest tightened, fighting for oxygen and letting out a weary scream all at once.

"Breathe, kitten. Breathe for me…mhm," Seungmin's lowered voice was your lifeline, guiding you through the earth-shattering orgasm, and he adjusted his hold on your mouth just enough to let you pant for air.

The ceiling looked like a blur of color to you. His charming features remained crystal clear to you despite your lack of focus, and when the black dots stopped flashing in your vision, you lulled your head to the side to gaze at him properly.

He stared back at you, smiling smugly as you struggled to stay sane. "I should leave you here like this for the rest of the night." His soft laughter follows the semi-serious threat, and you whine in disagreement, grasping for mercy again as he stands up.

"Min, please…I can't feel my legs…I need a break…" you whimper as your thoughts twitch on Indian with your shaky breaths. Seungmin crosses his arms over his chest, strolling to the other side of your bed where the remote fell. He doesn't look away from you as he picks up the device. He holds it up, admiring it briefly before looking back down at you, "I'll help you out of this on three conditions."

You scoff, ready to burst into tears from frustration, but knowing Seungmin's bargain was your only way out.

"F-fine, what do you want?!.."

He hits an arrow on the remote, causing the dildo to pick up speed, and you jolt from sudden overstimulation. "I wouldn't be so mouthy right now, kitten… I'm only trying to help, remember?" He feigns sympathy, adorning a frown as you helplessly fall back into the bed. Your whole body feels numb, excluding your pulsing cunt that's practically being milked to death.

"N' sorry," you admit defeat, unable to speak above a whisper as your mind goes completely blank. Seungmin inhaled sharply, enjoying the sight of you crumbling to pieces as he listed his terms for the supposed 'deal.'

"I'm going to fuck you." He wasn't asking, and you smiled wide upon hearing the demand.

"… Okay.." you mutter, eyes glossed over with lust as he returns to his previous position next to your bed -only this time, he moves to hover over you correctly. Your breath hitched as he wrapped your arms around his neck, indirectly lowering his face closer to yours.

"From here on out, you'll call me 'Sir' or 'Master.' Nothing else…Think you can do that, pup?"

You nod slowly, heart thundering in your chest as his eyes lower to your parted lips, "Let me hear you say it.." he mumbles, and you feel a blush creep onto your cheeks.

"Yes…sir."

Seungmin pecks your lips as soon as the words leave your mouth, and you moan into the quick kiss, glad to finally taste and longing for more as he pulls back to list his last condition.

"You'll give your all to me. Everything. I'm done running in circles with you…"

Your cunt spasms in delight as your mind registers his possessive statement.

You hadn't expected him to ask you to be his like this, but…

"Whatever you want…sir. N' yours.."

He smiled as you closed your eyes in pure bliss, gripping a fist full of his hair as you teetered on the edge of cumming, but as your peak began to reignite, he hit the 'stop' button.

You didn't know whether to glare at him or cry joyfully as he set the remote on your nightstand and sat up to free your lower half from the toy. Seungmin was careful not to put his entire weight on you as he untied your ankles, but you could feel his solid cock throbbing right over your pelvis.

Your eyes were steady on the rise in his pants, mouth watering in anticipation as you felt your legs drop free and Seungmin's hands kneading your inner thighs to help you gain feeling again.

"Thank you…" you whisper gratefully, content with laying under him, gradually resurfacing from the waves of pleasurable aftershock.

He glared at you, shifting on the bed so your legs were on either side of him, and you winced at the spasms of pain the movement caused in your lower half. "Thank you, what?" Seungmin gripped one of your ankles, pulling it so your dripping core was pressed to his clothed erection. "Thank you, sir!" You yelped as the contact overwhelmed you, the fabric of his pants, along with the imprint of his length, tickling your clit as your hips bucked involuntarily.

"Much better…" he cooed, lowering his head to capture your lips in a long, well-deserved kiss.

Finally, he could stop feigning for you and claim what should've been his a year ago.

You. And only you…

Mind, body, & soul.

+++++++++

TAGS: @httpswilloww 🖤 + @sorasbl0g 🖤 + @miserya99 🖤+ @y-ur--i 🖤+ @ivyreadsstuff 🖤+ @nannetsz 🖤+ @hynmgj1nnn 🖤+ @blackhairandbangs 🖤+ @sharksandminhos 🖤+ @fawnpeaks 🖤+ @myseungsungheart 🖤

I have a feeling you guys are going to ask for a part 3 on this...Like, I can feel it in my bones, but we will see how the draft process goes.. [ BONUS CONTENT + ]

….oh he DEFINITELY has pretty moans- uhm I mean….wow isn’t he just so ANGELIC (Ii would do anything for this man) 🖤

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copperbadge · 9 months ago

Note

Hey Sam!

I recently purchased a second hand bread machine, and I know you like to bake! (I got King Authur's Flour per your recommendation.) I was wondering if you have any recipes or tips and tricks for bread making? I don't have an oven in my apartment so sadly that's not an option for me 😔

Without an oven, a bread machine is a great acquisition! You can often also make rice, oatmeal, and sometimes even yogurt in a bread machine, depending on the model. If the machine didn't come with a manual, try googling for it, or googling the model name and "recipes" to see what else people have done with theirs. It's great you bought KA flour, because materials really do make the difference -- good flour and yeast are key. Freshness can matter with yeast so buy something with a long expiration date, and keep the yeast somewhere cool, dry, and dark.

For bread making, there are two main things I always think about: you are nurturing yeast, which is a living thing, and you're forming gluten (presumably, if you're not cooking gluten-free). The yeast wants to have food and be warm, so you want to use pretty warm water (most machine recipes say something very specific like 115-125F or similar, but it should be warmer than your skin and not so hot it hurts your skin, that's how I measure it). Sugar helps feed yeast, so often there will be sugar or honey in a recipe even if it's not a "sweet" bread. If you're using older yeast, adding a bit more sugar can help it work. Meanwhile, protein helps support gluten formation, so milk or milk powder are common ingredients often listed as optional but which are very helpful. If you have a stove, you can even make milk bread, which is one of the best, fluffiest kinds -- google "hokkaido milk bread" for recipes. Nearly any bread recipe that doesn't have a super long rise or need to be shaped can be made in a bread machine, but often (especially on the King Arthur site) a recipe will include special tips for adjusting it for a machine.

Specifically for bread machines, the bread can stay warm in the pan for a bit, but the longer it cools in the pan the more likely it is to form condensation, which leads to moisture on the surface of the crust in contact with the metal. That dries out pretty quickly if you leave it out for a bit, but moisture reduces the shelf life of homemade bread a LOT (moisture feeds mold). Your best bet is to remove the bread as soon as it's cool enough to handle -- it used to be the hardest part of making machine bread was getting it out of the damn pan, but they may have gotten better since I had one -- and wrap it in a tea towel or leave it out to cool completely before putting it in a package of some kind. I used to keep mine in the fridge because without preservatives it can mold quickly. These days most breads I bake included a few spoonfuls of King Arthur Bread and Cake Enhancer, which is a mild preservative and worth every penny -- it makes the bread softer, with better crumb, and it stays good for longer. There are other brands you can get cheaper on amazon, probably, but I've only ever used KA so I can't speak to their efficacy. It's generally not sold in stores.

Okay, two last things: one, I always put the bread machine on the floor when I was making bread in it, because it rocks back and forth a bit when kneading and I have had machines "walk" off the counter before. The floor or a wide table are best. Two, bread is difficult and even a machine for making it isn't perfect, so you may fail when you first start out. Even if you don't fail the first time, you may not get a good loaf at some point, and that's the nature of yeasted breads. Don't take it personally -- and don't give up! After a while, you start to notice if something seems "off" but it takes time to learn that sense.

Happy baking! I hope it goes well for you.

#food #sam cooks #bread making

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bedoballoons · 2 years ago

Text

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿─

A/n: Double post today because I have wanted to post this for days now! Super fluffy! Slight kiss stealing mentioned!

Requests/asks open!

{༻~Pocky challenge in fontaine~༺}

(Includes: Lyney, Navia, Freminet, Lynette, Neuvillette, and Clorinde!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Lyney:

Lyneys bright lavender eyes were trained on you, or more rather the pocky stick that hung slightly out of your mouth, dangling in front of him and tempting him to take a bite. Surely you wouldn't mind if it was just one little taste...he thought, as he leaned in closer to you, his movement making you turn towards him in curiosity. Your faces suddenly just inches away from eachother, causing a blush to spread across your face while he smiled mischievously and started to nibble away at the other end of your pocky stick.

Getting closer and closer to you with each stolen bite, your heart absolutely racing as he got to the part that was at the cusp of your mouth. You could feel his lips against yours for just a split second, his eyes shining with victory as he pulled away...leaving you absolutely flustered.

𑁍༄Navia:

When Navia had originally offered to buy you a pack of pocky, you didn't have any ulterior motives, you were just kinda hungry...and yet the second the box of delicious chocolate covered sticks made its way into your hand...you couldn't help but think of sharing them in the most romantic way possible. "Navia, want to share my pocky with me? Theres this challenge I've always wanted to try and since we are partners I want to try it with you first." You said casually, your heart skipping a beat as her golden yellow eyes met yours and that oh so sweet smile flashed into view.

"Of course! What's the challenge?" Her voice was sugary sweet like honey and the thought of possibly getting a kiss from someone so kind made your face blush, "We both start at one end of the pocky, taking bits till one of us reaches the middle first or pulls away." Her face blushed slightly as you spoke, her cheeks a soft pink as she nodded waiting patiently for you to offer the pocky and begin.

"Chocolate or stick?" You asked nervously, holding the pocky up to her while your heart started to beat harder in your chest. "Hmmm chocolate!" She gently took the pocky from you, putting the chocolate side in her mouth and leaning in so you could reach the other end, the two of you taking small bites till the tips of your noses were touching. Your faces each flashing red as you closed the gap, the sweet taste of chocolate on your lips as the two of you pulled away.

𑁍༄Freminet:

(I use the nickname Fremmy here...its cute okay!)

"Hi Fremmy! Whatcha working on?" You asked with a smile, leaning in slightly to see some type of mechanical machine, Freminets hands busy putting the pieces together like a puzzle only he could understand. "Oh hello...it's a prop for Lyney and Lynettes magic show, I... can't tell you exactly what for though. I'm...sworn to secrecy." He pulled away from his work table, a light blush on his face as he let you exam his newest creation...and despite looking at it for a couple minutes...you had absolutely no idea what it was.

"Well it looks cool whatever it is..., anyways! Remember how you said you'd never had pocky before? Well I got some and I was thinking we could do that challenge I told you about." You held up the box of sweets for him, watching as his light blush deepened to a dark red colour and he looked away shyly, "I-i...um. O-okay." You giggled as you opened the packaging, holding the pocky for him to take, chocolate side pointed in his direction.

"Remember the rules?" He nodded as he put the candy in his mouth, letting you have the other side while his heart pounded in his chest...but before you could even take a second bite..he pulled away out of nervousness, apologizing profusely and congratulating you on your easy win. In the end you sat down beside him on a nearby couch, sharing the sticks between the two of you the normal way while he talked about future inventions.

𑁍༄Lynette:

"You want to...try the pocky challenge with me?" Lynettes monotone voice had the slightest hint of curiousity, her violet eyes on the box of treats you'd gotten only moments earlier and her face ever so lightly pink, she had never tried the challenge before and the idea of sharing the new experience with you...was like a magic wish come true. "Mhm! Do you want the coated side or the stick?" You asked holding the pocky out for her to examine, ultimately she choose the breadstick side watching you intently as you put the chocolate end in your mouth.

Before you could properly take a bite she was at the other end, munching away rhythmically at a incredibly fast pace, till before you knew it her face was right up against yours, your eyes meeting hers your cheeks turned bright red. Her soft lips grazed yours as she took the final bite, pulling away with a small satisfied smile. "Seems I won...I enjoy this game. Shall we try again?"

𑁍༄Neuvillette:

Neuvillette was silent, his cheeks ever so lightly pink as you explained the rules of the pocky challenge, the hidden truth of it clear as day. He knew that if he agreed to said challenge, he could end up receiving a kiss from you and the thought of such a beautiful thing made his heart skip a beat, but...would he be able to stop himself at just one? Perhaps it would be better to decline...and ask for a kiss instead, then his motives would be clear at least...

"Neuvillette?" You smiled, patiently waiting for his response, unaware of the slight dilemma he was having with himself. "Apologies, I was lost in thought...I suppose a challenge would be alright, as long as everything is legal." His eyes met yours as you giggled happily, handing him the chocolaty dessert and watching in excitement as he put the coated end in his mouth, his blush darkening with each moment.

You took the breadstick part in your mouth, nibbling away at it slowly and savouring it's yummy flavour on your tongue as your heart rate increased, your face growing warmer as you got closer and closer to him. With only the smallest bit of pocky left between the two of you, you paused waiting to see what he'd do next and humming in delight as he took the last bite, closing the gap. Your lips touched for just a moment and just as he had expected, it wasn't enough...his hands holding your face as he kissed you again...preferring you over the candy.

𑁍༄Clorinde:

Clorinde sighed quietly, unsure wether to agree to share your snack with you...and possibly end up in a situation that would leave her blushed and quite possibly falling even harder for you or to disagree and play it safe, but always wonder if she should have said yes. Eventually her violet eyes met yours, her brows turned down slight as if she was annoyed, "I agree to your challenge, but I do hope you know...I'll show no mercy. As a champion duelist I take no challenge lightly."

"Yay! Do you want the chocolate end of the pocky or the breadstick part? I'm fine with either." You held up your snack for her, watching curiously as she examined it carefully, as if it could possibly be poisoned...even though you'd already eaten some of them. "I'll take the part without chocolate, thank you." You nodded in response, cheerfully putting the chocolate side in your mouth and wiggling the stick in front of her while she raised a eyebrow at you.

She leaned in, taking small bites of the pocky and finding it rather difficult to concentrate on the treat itself as she became acutely aware of how close your face was to hers. The gap growing smaller as you both ate away at the yummy treat, until your noses were touching and she took the last bite, pulling away so quickly that you were still left in the same stance in shock. "I win." She said quietly, her face blushed red and her lips touched with a bit of melted chocolate,...

"How about 2 outta 3?"

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚Have a nice day*⁠.⁠✧

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moonlightspencie · 2 years ago

Text

… Angels Roll Their Eyes

Description: A new recruit to the BAU catches Reid’s eye. Unfortunately for the both of them, she has a past with someone very close to him. Are they willing to keep secrets just to keep one another? (TWO-PART MINISERIES)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Warnings: alcohol consumption, reader gets a minor injury, sexual references/content (i’ll accept 16+ because its definitely not more than pg-13 material but writing anything sexy makes me feel weird if i know teenagers are reading it)

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: READER’S POV!! this is where the bridge kicks in teehee. (also savannah is more of a minor character at this point, nobody really knows she and derek are together)

Devils Roll the Dice… (click for part 1)

I walked up to the figure illuminated by vending machine lights. His head was down as he looked through the options, not really intending on buying anything at all. I slowed my steps on the approach, just barely catching his attention before I was right next to him.

“Hey,” he said quietly, giving me a soft smile.

I grinned in full, not bothering to hide my feelings. Nobody was around, anyways.

“Hey. You come here often?”

He laughed. “Only this once. Waiting around for this girl who said she’d meet me here.”

“Sounds like she’s into you.”

He nodded. “I think so.”

I grabbed his hand, attempting to pull him closer. He took the advantage to bring me in instead, my back against the hard plastic of the machine’s display. Rather than kissing me then and there, he leaned in, lips unbearably close to my ear.

“I feel like we’re sneaking around past our parents,” he said quietly.

“You never got that ‘teenage dream’ experience. Maybe this is your second chance.”

He smiled. “Maybe.”

His lips pressed to mine, silencing our whispered words for good.

We were far from teenagers at this point, but he was still a dream. I found myself feeling giddy at every turn, completely ignoring the impending doom that loomed over our relationship.

We both knew we weren’t trying hard enough to hide it. Neither of us knew what would happen when it finally came to light.

Until that happened, we’d pretend it wasn’t in the cards at all. Summer love was still sweet, even being far removed from the romanticism of anything resembling the movie-loves I’d grown accustomed to religiously watching. This was somehow better. Maybe because it was more realistic. Probably because it was always more thrilling to live it out.

I smiled into our kiss, feeling his wandering hands trying to get themselves under my legs to lift me up. Sadly, we never got the chance.

We heard footsteps coming down the hall quickly, breaking apart and trying to look as nonchalant as possible as we mindlessly gazed at the snacks inside the machine.

“I’m thinking M&Ms,” I noted, almost laughing.

Spencer hid a smile. He clicked the right buttons right as our visitor reached us. The little package dropped, our secret still somehow concealed from a slightly-confused Aaron Hotchner as he stood behind us waiting for his turn.

“Night,” I said, giving a slight nod.

“Goodnight.”

Spencer followed behind me, hoping it wouldn’t be obvious that he didn’t have some cheap snack of his own in hand as we walked past. I rationalized that he looked too tired to notice, anyways.

We wound up back in my room, giggling with each other like kids at a sleepover. I made him do a face-mask with me while he made me listen to a lecture on how the hyaluronic acid in the formula provided moisture for our skin. I gladly listened with a smile on my face, and he happily accepted a hundred kisses as I wiped his face clean afterwards.

We laid on my bed, mindlessly talking about whatever came to mind. He took my hand in his, running his thumb across the back of my hand in repeated motions as we talked.

“What do you say we stop hiding us?” I asked at last, staring at the ceiling. “I’ve established myself on the team at this point, I think.”

He was quiet for a moment, still running his thumb over my hand.

“I don’t know. I think it’s better that we keep it quiet.”

I paused, taking in his response. I’d hoped that after a while we wouldn’t be hiding anymore. As much fun as it was to sneak around, it could be utterly exhausting. But, if he still wanted to, I’d agree.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” he questioned, turning his head to look at me.

I looked back at him, giving him a small smile and a nod.

“Yeah. If that’s what you want, it’s fine by me.”

He smiled, pressing a kiss to my forehead. I sprung up a moment after, standing at the foot of the bed. I grabbed my phone, clicking around on the screen as he propped himself up to look at me. I held out a hand to him.

“Dance with me, pretty boy,” I sang out, hitting shuffle on one of my playlists.

He quickly obliged, not wasting a second in worrying about whether or not he could actually dance. He knew I’d be there to guide whatever movements he didn’t know how to do yet.

Whispers of ‘are you sure?’

I smiled at him, admiring the way he payed way too much attention to how he moved. I made it a goal to loosen him up. After a minute, he was letting me guide, leaving his body to its own devices. He was really better off for it.

I can see us lost in the memory

We swayed along to the song, silently praying it wasn’t some kind of sick foreshadowing of how our summer would end. I pretended not to care much about the lyrics. He pretended not to listen to most of them.

August sipped away like a bottle of wine

Cause you were never mine

“Do you think that’ll happen to us?” I asked, still smiling past the gravity of the question.

“Of course not,” he answered with finality.

Wanting was enough

For me it was enough

To live for the hope of it all

I took his hands, the both of us spinning around in circles with smiles on our faces that were real and genuine despite a nagging feeling that something might be wrong.

I knew mine had a lot to do with very real feelings I was scared to talk about. I was too afraid to think about what may have filled his head. It was really none of my business, anyways, so I cleared my head of it all. Wanting was enough. I didn’t have to doubt that. It had been enough for two months so far. That had to count for something.

Weeks later and it was August. That lingering question of “will it last” was ever-present in my head. I just kept pushing it down. Fuck compartmentalization. That question was locked in a dungeon, chained to a wall, and I intended on keeping it there until we were either burning to the ground or eloping in Vegas.

Those seemed like the most viable options, anyway. An extremely-attached, yet no-strings kind of situationship could really only go one of two ways.

I almost wanted him to hate me at that point. It would certainly be a thrilling end if he revealed that he never cared about me and was only doing all of this to screw with my head. Almost like he was a spy, trying to uncover whatever boring substance made up my psyche.

I knew that was… Slightly less realistic, though.

I probably shouldn’t have been thinking about it so thoroughly, especially since it was merely theoretical. It would have caused a lot less mental work. It also might have prevented me from being off my game.

I had a habit of being a bit clumsy when we weren’t in life-threatening situations, but messing up while we were on a case? Unbearably embarrassing.

I looked up as my arm hit the wall to stop me from falling over my own two feet, disgusting to find that an exposed nail head had given me quite the scratch. It looked pretty gnarly, and frankly I was thanking my lucky stars I’d already gotten a tetanus booster after my last injury. However, I probably couldn’t go much further with my arm bleeding. Especially if they didn’t necessarily need me. It was one man they were going after, and we didn’t even know if he was in this house.

I voiced to Hotch what had happened, and he told me to leave if I was safe enough to do so. JJ and three officers occupied the house anyways, so I booked it out of there.

I cleaned myself up as well as I could with the first aid kit in the car, planning on doing a better job when I got back to the precinct. The house we were in turned out to be a bust anyways. Our unsub was still in the wind. He clearly hadn’t even been in the house in weeks. It was wildly frustrating.

Until Miss Penelope Garcia called in to save the day as she always did. She let JJ and I know that the others were currently heading across town to an apartment that she was certain housed the unsub and our most recent victim.

“Finally,” I sighed, leaning my head back in the seat.

JJ was quiet, and I looked away from my driving to see her. She smiled at me when I turned my head.

“What?” I questioned with a laugh.

“Can I ask you something?” she inquired, sitting up a little more straight. “It’s a little personal.”

I quirked a brow. “You can ask, but I reserve my right to remain silent.”

She laughed. “Alright. Fair enough. Uh, I’m just wondering about you and a certain team member.”

I swallowed. Uh oh.

“Okay?”

“I’ve just— I’ve heard rumors, and I wanted to ask you directly about them rather than letting the rumor-mill run.”

I nodded slowly. “What have you heard?”

“Word on the street is that you and Morgan used to be an item.”

Oh.

“Ah,” I replied with a chuckle. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, we were a thing. But that was a while ago, and I’m pretty certain we’ve moved past it.”

“Right, yeah,” she nodded. “You know, he has a secret girlfriend now.”

I smiled, glancing at her. “Really?”

She nodded again. “Yeah. He’s been trying to hide it, but Garcia loves to talk.”

I laughed, thinking of the bubbly, well-meaning woman. She had a hard time with secrets, though she tried her hardest.

“That’s good. He deserves to be happy, he was always a great guy,” I said.

“Just gotta look past all of the mindless flirting and the jock-persona,” JJ noted jokingly.

I hummed in agreement, turning down the road that would lead us to the precinct at last. It was a good thing, too, since my arm was really starting to irritate me now. My discomfort must have been obvious, as JJ looked at me once again.

“You okay?” she questioned. “That cut on your arm looks pretty painful.”

I looked at it, noticing there was some bleed-through on the bandage. I sighed, not looking forward to cleaning it up.

“I’ll live. It just itches pretty bad right now, and it’s fairly sore.”

“I can help you when we’re back at the station. You shouldn’t have to do that alone.”

“Thanks Jayje,” I said, resting a hand on her arm briefly.

She covered my hand with her own, giving me another smile. It felt like she could see through me on occasion. She had quickly become one of my closest friends on the team, which took me a little by surprise. She seemed a little too unironic-girlboss when I first met her, but the second Penelope helped me see her true colors… We were fast friends.

I almost found myself telling her about Spencer and I on multiple occasions, but always ended up thinking better of the idea. That moment was one of the times I almost said something.

Of course, I thought twice about it, but she gave me that look like she knew what I was thinking.

I found an out when we pulled into the precinct, and took up her offer to help me with properly fixing up my arm. We made light conversation as I tried like hell not to focus on the stinging pain that occurred every time she probed at the cut.

We did whatever we could to help after she was finished. At least until the rest of the team showed up. But, to my delight, we rounded out our night by heading home and going straight to the bar.

I didn’t often let myself get well and truly drunk. Especially not when I was around Spencer. I knew I had been staring at him once I downed my sixth shot, but by the third mixed drink he was pulling me out of the bar. He threw out some kind of excuse that he was tired and I needed a ride home.

“What’s up with you?” he asked after bidding a goodnight to everyone else. “You’ve been acting weird, and now you’re getting wasted.”

I was annoyed by the comment, but there was concern in his voice over everything else. I leaned into him as we walked towards my car.

“I just wanted to have some fun, Spencie.”

He sighed, continuing to help me walk until we reached my vehicle.

“Come on,” he muttered under his breath, helping me into the backseat of the car.

I slumped over into the seat as he did, just barely letting him put the seatbelt around me and click it into place. He was fairly quiet as he did so, which really only furthered my concern. Even drunk I knew well enough to see that something was off with him. He shut the door, and I let myself drop against the seat, listening as he opened and closed the driver’s side door.

I glanced up, seeing him adjust the mirror to keep an eye on me in the seat rather than the road. It was dangerous and stupid. And so sweet it made my stomach flip.

I let my mind wander as he turned on the radio, thought he kept it low, and started driving. I thought of him and the summer we’d shared thus far. Three months is nothing in the grand scheme of life, but it felt like everything when I was with him. He felt like everything in that time. I hated keeping him a secret so much.

Maybe I shouldn’t have drank so much.

I let out the tears I was holding back, sniffling as the snot starting trying to weasel its way out of my system. If I was going to cry like a baby, I wasn’t going let myself get all gross and grimy. That’s where I drew the line. I’d make sure at least some of my dignity was preserved.

He looked at me in the rear view mirror, brows furrowing.

“Y/N?”

I sniffled.

“Yeah?” I managed, knowing I sounded absolutely pathetic.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice soft. “Why are you crying?”

I met his eyes as he continually glanced at me in the mirror. I had to have looked ridiculous, laying on the backseat with tears streaming down my face for seemingly no reason.

“I’m fine.”

He deadpanned. “You’re sobbing in the backseat of your own car.”

“I’m fine,” I said again through tears, voice coming out much more whiny than I’d intended.

He said my name as a warning, seeing through my… untruth. I felt more happy calling it that than anything else. I looked at him, admiring his pretty face through the mirror as he looked on at the road ahead. Maybe it was a good idea for him to practically drag me out of the bar. I could be a messy drunk, and I definitely would’ve outed us by wanting to be messy with him in front of the team if I’d drank any more.

Keeping secrets sucked. It was stupid and annoying. Especially when he was so hot.

I whined out loud at the though, squeezing my eyes shut.

“What?” he whined back, a laugh on his lips.

“I’m sick of this.”

“Sick of what, baby?”

I sighed, wiping away tears that kept on rolling.

“Keeping secrets. I don’t want to have to keep hiding this just to keep you.”

He sighed to match mine. “I know.”

“I don’t want to do it anymore.”

“Honey, we don’t have much of a choice.”

“But I’m going to explode if I can’t kiss you in public anymore.”

“No, you won’t,” he said, looking at me again.

I pouted. “I will.”

“You’re drunk, baby. We’ll get you into bed and you’ll feel better tomorrow.”

“Will you come to bed with me?”

He smiled softly. “Of course.”

I felt the car starting to slow, and though my vision was a little blurry, I saw the green light ahead turn to yellow. I looked at him again, a small smile coming to my tear-soaked face.

“Spencie?”

He hummed in question, not yet looking at me.

“Can I tell you something really stupid?”

“I’d love nothing more.”

I paused for a moment, letting my inebriated state wipe away any inhibitions I may have had otherwise. The car stopped at the light at last. I smiled softly.

“For what it’s worth, I love you,” I mumbled. “And it’s the worst fucking thing you could hear right now.”

I hoped he’d say it back, though part of me expected him to pretend he hadn’t heard me at all.

I definitely didn’t expect him to look at me through the mirror with a devilish smirk.

“I know you do,” he stated. “And it’s not the worst thing I‘ve heard by a long shot.”

I bit my lip to hold back a smile as he pulled away from the light. We ended up back at my apartment, Spencer still helping me stumble the whole way there. I pushed him back against the door as soon as we were inside, but he held my wrists to stop me from feeling him up. I pouted.

“Ow,” I said, pulling my injured arm from him.

“You okay, princess?”

I nodded, quiet. He simply looked at me, certainly not believing me.

“Why are you doing that?” I questioned.

His eyes widened. “W-why am I stopping you?”

I nodded silently, still pouting.

“Baby— You’re drunk. I’m not doing anything with you while you’re drunk.”

I dropped my hands, whining as I leaned my full body into his. He wrapped his arms around me, walking— more so waddling— with me until we reached my couch.

“I just wanna kiss you,” I grumbled into his chest, letting him drop me onto the cushions.

I stared up at him, trying to look alluring. I probably just looked a little out of my mind.

“I love kissing you, but not while you’re so drunk you can’t even stand up by yourself without almost tipping over,” he said, smiling softly as he crouched between my legs.

He leaned up, softly kissing my forehead. He kept my face in his hands, looking at me. He let one hand drop, running it across my arm. I pulled back again, feeling the discomfort in my arm from my earlier injury.

He furrowed his brow, looking down at my arm as it was covered by my sleeve.

“Are you okay?”

I nodded. “I’m fine.”

“You pulled away twice when I touched your arm.”

“It’s okay.”

He sighed, grabbing my arm and gently moving my sleeve up over the bandage. He let out a sharp breath.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this?” he asked, trying not to be annoyed with my concealment. “When did you get hurt?”

I deflated. “Today.”

“How?”

“I got cut. Fell into a nail in the wall.”

He ran a hand over his face. “You should’ve told me.”

“Why?”

He glanced up, furrowing his brow. He was clearly annoyed with me, but I couldn’t bring myself to feel terribly about it.

“Because I want to know when you’re hurt.”

I swallowed. Okay, that made me feel a little guilty.

“It’s not a big deal.”

“It is. That’s a pretty big bandage.”

I was quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t want you to worry.”

“It’s my job to worry about you.”

“No, it isn’t.”

He quirked a brow. “Why not?”

“We aren’t even like… A real couple,” I said, closing my eyes. “All we do is sneak around and you don’t ever want to tell anyone and I just don’t think that we can keep acting like it’s gonna last forever if we can’t even tell friends about—”

“It’s not my fault you dated Derek first,” he said, cutting me off.

I scoffed. “He doesn’t even care. That was forever ago and he has his secret girlfriend now anyways.”

“You wanted to keep this secret in the first place.”

“Well I’m sick of it,” I yelled. “I’m sick of keeping secrets and I’m sick of you not caring that I’m in love with you.”

“Not caring?” he asked, voice raising as he leaned back on his knees.

“You didn’t even say it back when I said it.”

“Because you’re drunk! How am I supposed to know if you even mean it?”

“Because I do!”

I groaned, my head dropping back against the cushions. My buzz was starting to wane, and I wished it would hold on a little longer.

“You were crying in the backseat. We said we’d talk about this tomorrow when you were sobered up. Why don’t we stick to that plan?” he said after a moment.

“Why can’t you just tell me how you actually feel about me?”

“I don’t want to say something and have you not remember it.”

“You’re so annoying,” I grumbled.

He rolled his eyes, standing abruptly. I readied myself for him to leave. I knew I was being childish, but I was tired of keeping everything bottled up. I wouldn’t blame him for dropping me then and there.

But, he reached out a hand.

“Come on. Let’s go to bed.”

I looked up at him curiously, not yet taking his hand.

“You’re staying?”

He nodded. “Of course. I don’t want to leave you like this.”

I reached out, letting him help me up. We walked to my room, quietly undressing. I climbed into bed, watching him as he finally tugged off his pants, leaving him in just his undershirt and boxers. He shut my door, turned off the lights, and got under the covers with me.

He reached out for me under the sheets, tugging me against him. I sighed, resting my hand over his arm.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“It’s okay. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

I woke up to a horrible headache, and a nauseous feeling that I was convinced would probably never ever go away. I was 100% certain I would never drink again ever in my life. It was a set rule that I made very quickly.

“How are you feeling?” Spencer asked.

My next rule was that nobody was ever allowed to speak to me again.

I broke it immediately.

“Like crap.”

“Here,” he said, a stupid smile in his voice from the one word.

I opened my eyes to see him offering me a couple of little pills and a glass of water. I took them, grateful, even though I wanted to tell him to leave me alone in the dark for the next few months. Thankfully, he let me lay in his arms until the medication kicked in and took the edge off of my stupid hangover. I was at least thankful we didn’t have work that day.

My head was buried in his chest when I felt his lips against the top of my head. He rubbed my back, coaxing me back to the real world. Unfortunately I’d been a mess in the real world the night prior and did not want to deal with the aftermath.

“Baby,” he said quietly. “Are you alright?”

“Mhm,” I hummed, leaning back a little. Just enough to see him. “Medicine helped.”

“Good,” he smiled. “I was a little worried. You drank a lot more than you usually do last night.”

“I know. I was a mess.”

He smirked. “A little bit.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, brushing hair out of his face. “I’m sorry we argued.”

He was quiet for a second, then perked up a little when his phone dinged.

“You hungry?”

“I really don’t want to go out, love.”

He laughed softly. “I know. I ordered in while you were laying down.”

“You’re a dream, Spencer Reid.”

We tumbled out of bed, Spencer insisting on preparing everything after he thanked the delivery person at the door. He made me sit at the table and wait for him, not allowing me to do anything at all until all of the food was laid out. He delighted in it.

“There,” he said, setting down our drink at last as he sat next to me. “And you tried saying I didn’t love you.”

My eyes widened, not expecting him to say anything, but especially not like that. He looked at me.

“What?” he questioned.

“That’s how you’re going to tell me?” I asked with a laugh.

“I thought you knew anyways,” he shrugged. “I do love you, you know?”

I felt heat in my cheeks at that, a smile on my face that I couldn’t control. He smiled right back at me, pressing a kiss to the back of my hand.

“Do you really think we’ll last past summer?” I asked, hoping he was feeling honest.

He sighed, the smallest grin on his face.

“It’d be a cruel end if we didn’t.”

#spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid reader insert #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds reader insert #criminal minds fanfiction #luna’s spence fics

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bellrose · 4 months ago

Text

Better choco-late than never

This piece came about through the Goose Groupie discord's writer's club! I picked the prompt sharing a box of chocolates with everybody's favorite assasin Court.

Summary: You and Court don’t do holidays. Not because of some aversion or disbelief, simply because it was never a given if or when Court’s hectic schedule would line up and he’d be there in the first place. You didn’t mind that much. Not really. Yes, it would be nice one day to have Court share a Christmas breakfast with your family and taste mother’s infamous stoll. But those were fantasies. You’ve settled on taking whatever you could get.

This is (sorta) set in the same universe as Pretty Phone in Pink, but reading that one first isn't neccesary! Though I'd love if you did hihi ;)

Court Gentry x gender neutral reader

Warnings: no warnings, maybe some chocolate cravings

Word count: 967

It might have been the tacky packaging that caught your eye. Glinting in the fluorescent overhead among many other candies dumped into the basket. It might have been the orange sticker smacked on the little box. It wasn’t Lindt, or GODIVA. Some off-brand confectionary you’ve never heard of. 50% off. Not a bad deal.

Without another thought spent pondering the enormity of cocoa manufactory you throw it into the cart. Next, some bread. Lemonade. The orange one. Coffee. Caffeine free. A Cabbage. Dates.

It isn’t until you get home, shaking out the umbrella on the front stoop while juggling your haul and keys in the other hand, that you second guess the purchase glaring from the bottom of your grocery bag.

Deluxe, Belgian chocolate pralines. Ruby Raspberry Kiss. Dark Sinful Ganache. Double the Nuts (with nougat). Praline or pick up line?

Valentine's day was last week.

You and Court don’t do holidays. Not because of some aversion or disbelief, simply because it was never a given if or when Court’s hectic schedule would line up and he’d be there in the first place. You didn’t mind that much. Not really. Yes, it would be nice one day to have Court share a Christmas breakfast with your family and taste mother’s infamous stoll. But those were fantasies. You’ve settled on taking whatever you could get.

Court loved you. Full Heartedly. There is no denying it in the way he keeps wringing himself through the hanger to keep seeing you. The way he looks at you sometimes, when he thinks you don’t notice. Not with a hunger, or a passion, rather a calmth that flows through his shoulders, down to his toes. “I’ll be home soon,” he said, three days ago through the phone.

Home.

Your home. His now, too.

Is it enough? To be some sort of safe haven? Is it worth it? You asked him once, on the phone as well because that was easier. He’d gone quiet and you dreaded the answer. But then he promised, steadfastly, “I won’t let anybody hurt you.”

And in return all you have to offer is a box of (questionably) Belgian chocolates. Does he even like chocolate? Would he be interested in a Caramel Embrace? Maybe he abhorred it. Maybe you should have bought some candy hearts. Little I Love You’s and XOXO’s. Buying a box of Valentine chocolates seems very stupid now in the first place.

When you open the door the apartment is just as you left it. The lights are turned off, the washing machine buzzing away. It’s in the kitchen putting away the groceries that you hear something else.

Footsteps.

Court comes up from behind and he is- half naked, actually. Still damp from the shower. Seeping through your t-shirt when his arms cover your midriff.

You lean back into the embrace. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself.” Court nuzzles into the space between your shoulder and your neck. “You smell nice.”

You snort. “Stole my body wash again?”

“Guilty as charged,” Court grins. You can feel it on your skin, his lips leaving a small trail. He is warm. Like a furnace.

“Good thing I think ahead.”

You grab the black bottle from the countertop and push it into his face. Court studies the label, frowning.

“Deep sensation?”

“I had a coupon.”

His gaze travels down to the box of chocolates, incriminating in all its red and gold glory among tomorrow’s dinner. “Hm, this too?”

Should have stashed it into a cabinet first thing. “Well…”

Court releases his hold and you turn around. Ever since he gave you the burner phone you’ve tried harder to decipher every little mask he’s got hidden in his arsenal. When he doesn’t want you to see what he truly feels. Now his expression is sober. The corner of his mouth turned down just so.

“I forgot didn’t I?” he says, more an admittance than a question. Eyes guarded.

“No, I mean-” you splutter, thinking what it could look like, what it could imply. A jab of some sorts. Happy Valentines! Oh wait, that was a week ago. Pay more attention to me. “I knew you would be.” You gesticulate with your hands to something on the ceiling. “Away.”

You sigh. “Sorry, it doesn’t mean anything. I thought it would be… nice.”

His eyebrows draw closer together. “Is our love being attached to bowing under consumerism nice?” he asks, so serious and- now you want to punch him.

“You- What? Oh, shut it.”

And then you do punch him, but before your fist can connect with his bare chest he grabs your hand, pulling you closer. His stubble tickles your knuckles when he kisses them.

“I love you. I don’t say it enough,” he states, looking up through his lashes. Like some damn knight from a fairytale dressed in your fluffy towel. It makes your knees weak. “And I’m taking it for granted, that’s what I’m forgetting.”

Court lets you press your thumb against his lips. Shutting him up.

“You don’t have to take anything, I’m already here,” you insist, softly.

He smiles, melting the pensive melancholy from his face. “Yes. You are. Always.”

You cradle his cheek. Playfully tugging at his ear before kissing him back. On the lips this time. It's a slow kiss. One that tends to never begin nor end. Only his sturdy presence exists in your mind, the warmth of his mouth all engulfing when you pull him even closer. Sharing your breath.

“I love you too,” you whisper, after pulling back reluctantly. There is still some rucola that needs to be put in the fridge before it withers away. “Now get dressed so we can enjoy my capitalistic chocolate.”

“I’m wearing clothes.”

You roll your eyes. “You are wearing a towel.”

“You don’t mind.”

No you don’t.

I'm in the mood for some chocolate now, and a damp Court to share them with.

Thank you for reading

#court gentry #court gentry x reader #sierra six x reader #the gray man #sierra six #rose's fics #goosegroupiewritersclub

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comfortabletextiles · 1 year ago

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I have bought a second hand knitting machine. And it was a PROCESS I tell you.

I bought a yarn subscription for 3 months, to soothe my tired soul, and as a treat for surviving a truly wretched march. Wich will be 3600m in hand and plant dyed yarn. (Below the first of three months and the pattern that started my need for a knitting machine)

Of course I have to see if the yarns to that well together. But also that is a pattern for a passap knitting machine.

So my hunt for a knitting machine started!

First I found one by "brother" complete with pattern magazines and FUCKING PUNCH CARDS . I wanted that one so bad. But we're talking about 270 bucks and I got scammed before so I asked if I can use PayPal business instead of family and pay a bit more so he doesn't loose any money, because I got scammed before and thats a lot of money. And he was PISSED . How DARE me accuse him of being a scammer, his reviews are STELLAR (well, so where the ones of the scammer?)

So no brother for me.

Then I found a Passap! For FREE! But no shipping (now that I have one I understand, it's a heavy creature, and things could get broken easily if you're not careful)

But she lived way to far away.

WAIT her husband travels a lot because of his work maybe he can bring it some day! BUT we are to far south...

So no free Passap for me.

The I Found TWO machines! One for 250 completely with everything AND prodigal package from 1968! 1h drive from us! Husband already said he'll drive! Parallel I wrote with someone who has a Passap for 80,- in my city! That I could have visited and looked at the machine! I wrote with both, had a lovely Saturday and then had a mental breakdown... So at 2 in the night I wrote both, that I can't buy them, because reasons. I felt very terrible... (Especially because I basically wrote the woman 8h before we came that we won't make it...)

I couldn't stop thinking about the machine though, but felt deeply ashamed how I handled everything ... BUT

I wrote the lady with the 1h drive that I talked to the husband, and that we decluttered, and if she gives me a chance I REALLY like the Passap, for real this time!

And she was absolute incredible and kind 🥹🥹🥹

So, fast forward yesterday evening we got itnto the car, and needed 70 minutes JUST THROUGH THE CITY the whole ride in total should have taken 50min!!!! At this point I truly believed this project cursed!!

BUT. It worked out, I gifted her some chocolate as a thank you for dealing with my sorry ass, she went down with the price a bit, and BEHOLD

A knitting machine

Took some time to figure out where to place her, and even longer to figure out how to work her... But, we're getting used to each other!

So there is a happy end!

Bonus story: it's her father's machine, and later in live, before he died, he knitted only socks with her. She had some tears in her eyes when we took her (said my husband) I feel really honored that I'm able to give her a second live :')

#passap Duomatic #knitting machine

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indiabizzness · 1 year ago

Video

youtube

Second Hand Imported Packaging Machine Sale in India #Packagingmachine #...

#youtube #Second Hand Imported Packaging Machine Sale in India #Second Hand Imported Packaging Machine Sale #Second Hand Imported Packaging Machine #Buy Second Hand Imported Packaging Machine #Second Hand Packaging Machine Sale in India #Second Hand Packaging Machinery for Sale #Buy Second Hand Packaging Machine #Buy Used Packaging Machine #Buy Used Imported Packaging Machine

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su-itca-se · 2 years ago

Text

Dear Brother (Oniisama e…) LaserDisc scans and machine translations

These past few years I have fallen in love with the work of director Osamu Dezaki. Alongside Tomorrow’s Joe (Ashita no Joe), I hold Dear Brother in the highest regard.

It was a 1991 anime based on Riyoko Ikeda’s 1974 manga. You should watch the anime. It’s on Tubi for free. But really, just trust me. Buy the Blu-Ray from Discotek.

This anime came and went. There isn’t any merchandise besides some phone cards. Decaying fan sites and discourse is out there, but it’s a bit of a hunt.

Some time ago I saw a fan letter written by Hideaki Anno, apparently from the LaserDisc releases. From what I could tell, the LaserDisc packaging featured a treasure trove of notes from the staff that I just had to read. But I couldn’t find them!

If you’re not aware, LaserDiscs are one step above burnable trash in Japan — often on sale for 200 yen or less in heavy boxes shoved into the corner of second-hand anime stores. So I bought all five volumes of the 1993 Dear Brother LaserDisc release, was thrilled to notice unique letters from staff and industry luminaries in the interiors, and I scanned everything! And machine translated them.

I hope this (long, comprehensive) post brings fans of Dear Brother the same pleasure it brought me to compose it!

Note: I cannot read Japanese. I’ve used Google Lens for OCR, and GPT-4 for translation. My scans are good (and you can get them on Archive.org in high res) but these translations are not archive-quality and should not be depended on without verification. I’ve done my best to make corrections and have attempted to wrangle the correct tone and meaning out of the AI, but they’re essentially just for fun. Corrections of the most egregious stuff would be welcomed, email me: [email protected].

Volume One

Each disc is themed after a character and colour. The back is peppered with screencaps and notable quotes (“Anata wa dare?” says little Nanako) as well as series credits. The two notable parts to translate are the disc synopsis, and the subheading (seen here in pink on the far left.) Maybe it’s a pull quote? Not really. So I called it a subheading.

Volume One Subheading

A forbidden cult anime masterpiece born of satellite broadcasting is finally available on LD.

Volume One Synopsis

Private Seiran Academy. A story of beautiful love and deep hatred unfolds at this prestigious all-girls high school steeped in tradition. The protagonist, Nanako Misonoo, who is thrilled to enroll in the high school division of her dream academy, encounters three stunning individuals: Miya-sama, Sanjust-sama, and Sho no Kimi. She also gets introduced to the glamorous world of Seiran Sorority, a society that only the chosen few are allowed to join. As a freshman granted unexpected membership in the Sorority, Nanako begins to take a deep look at love, friendship, and the essence of being human, all while being surrounded by envy and jealousy. She confides her various experiences at the academy, along with unspeakable worries and hardships, in letters to her elder “brother” and a young man named Takehiko Henmi… A masterpiece anime born of satellite broadcasting. It is a work by Riyoko Ikeda that the Dezaki-Sugino duo took on for the first time in 11 years since “The Rose of Versailles.” It is considered a unique work that brings a fresh, unprecedented shock by transcending the framework of TV anime with its aesthetic world.

The disc looks like this:

An “obi” (sash that covers the spine) is included. Of course, it says “My tears won’t stop!” in huge text, sells it as the latest Dezaki/Sugino collaboration, and describes it as tanibi na sekai — a poetic concept of a romantic, sublime world of aesthetic beauty.

There are two paper inserts in each volume. The first one looks like this, and is an index of LaserDisc chapter markers based not on plot developments, but notable character quotes.

There’s also a form you can fill out to get a telephone card. Simply cut out a coupon from each volume to prove you bought the full set. Be quick, entries are due end of March 1994.

The interior is the best part. Here’s the spread for Volume One.

I haven’t translated episode synopses, but I’ve attempted to translate both the staff letter and the “letter to dear brother” from someone external to the production. There’s a bio for each author.

Volume One’s “From the staff to all the fans”

Bio:

Osamu Dezaki Joined Mushi Production in 1963. After directing series like “Astro Boy” and “Goku’s Great Adventure,” he was selected as the general director for “Tomorrow’s Joe” in 1970 at the young age of 26. Born on November 18, 1943, and hailing from Tokyo, he has received high praise as a director. Subsequently, he has brought numerous masterpieces into the world, including “Aim for the Ace!”, “The Adventures of Ganba,” “Nobody’s Boy,” “Treasure Island,” “The Rose of Versailles,” “Space Adventure Cobra,” “BB,” and more. He is also referred to as “Sakimakura” and “Mataba Sakimakura.”

The letter:

This is my second time working on Ikeda-san’s work since “The Rose of Versailles.” Her works have a unique aroma, whether you call it a theme or a world. They seem to pursue the literary aspect of the story. When I read the original work of “Dear Brother,” I was very drawn to these aspects, and at the same time, I felt a sense of anticipation that it would be difficult, but perhaps various images could be created. It’s not just about being cool or intense; it’s about creating images that resonate more and more with people’s hearts. Fundamentally, there is an original story, but when the characters start to move, and each begins to live, the story could go anywhere. I always had that sense of tension. So, rather than sticking to the original work, I placed more emphasis on the directorial focus of the reality of the characters who had started to move. As for the techniques, it was not something I was particularly conscious of, but I used a lot of completely black shots simply because I honestly felt they needed to be black. Whether or not it was successful, I wanted to effectively overlap the visuals with the characters’ psychology by delivering such physiological shocks. The psychological fluctuations of the people are indeed the overall aroma of this work. How the audience perceives that aroma is something I want to leave up to each individual’s free sensitivity. - July 8, 1993, at Tezuka Pro

Volume One’s “Letter to Dear Brother”

Bio:

Mutsumi Inomata Born on December 23 in Kanagawa Prefecture. After working with Ashi Production and Kaname Production, she is currently freelance. After going through Ashi Production and Kaname Production, she is now a freelance artist. Mutsumi Inomata is her real name. She was born on December 23 in Kanagawa Prefecture. She is active in both the fields of anime character design and illustration. In the realm of animation, she served as the character designer and chief animation director for works such as “Plawres Sanshiro” and “Genmu Senki Leda,” and as the character designer for “Future GPX Cyber Formula.” As an illustrator, she has also provided numerous illustrations for novels, including titles like “Prince of the Universe,” “Dragon Quest,” and “Continent of the Wind.”

The letter:

Comics are way hard to translate without actually knowing Japanese. Here’s my best effort to uncover some meaning.

For several years, I had stopped watching anime and stuff… Living a hectic life, it’s been like this for a while now. Having a set day and a set time to watch a specific program (not just limited to anime), had become impossible for me. Recording videos is also a hassle, and first and foremost, I just don’t feel that “I must watch the next episode!” kind of emotion anymore. Ah well, I was thinking maybe I’ve just become an adult. Heh heh heh. I’m such an idiot. No, that’s not it.

The blonde guy in the bottom-right is labeled as her friend, and she’s saying something about “Poupee-chan”. I think in the second panel he’s yelling saying “But that doll is supposed to be a girl!”

The final monologue starts with:

By the way, I have a container for “dangerous items” at the corner of my work desk. I keep things like cutter blades in it, so that I don’t accidentally drop them on the floor and cut myself or something. The “dangerous items” container I’m using now has a sticker with Saint-Just-sama’s “Nanako’s Eyes,” heh heh heh ♡

That’s about all there is to note about Volume One, besides the fact it comes with an enormous poster (it’s the same art used on the cover of the Discotek Blu-Ray.)

Volume Two

Volume Two Subheading

Those eyes of that person, mysteriously and beautifully shining. Why these feelings? Why...? The increasing heartbeat, the endless tears of adolescence. A masterpiece of forbidden cult anime born from satellite broadcasting! The second installment on LaserDisc!

Volume Two Synopsis

Nanako’s life at school, after being chosen as a sorority member, was not all glitz and glamour. There were misunderstandings with her best friend Tomiko, and jealousy and slander from other students, including Misaki Aya. And then there was the obsessive love from her fellow sorority member, Nobuo Mariko. “What is a sorority? Is it really that important?” Nanako began to question the very existence of sororities. Yet, she tries to look straight into herself, even while confused. Always before her were the mysteriously beautiful and shining eyes of Saint-Just. Drawn to those eyes that seemed to peer into a distant past, Nanako attempts to uncover their secret. Then, by chance, she finds out about the special relationship between Fukiko and Saint-Just. Could it be that Miya-sama and Saint-Just-sama are…? The complicated interplay of relationships and the previously enigmatic characters start to become a little clearer in “Volume 2: The Chapter of Freezing Rain.” The subtle breaths of the people surrounding Nanako can be heard.

Volume Two’s “From the staff, Dear Nanako”

Bio:

Hideo Takayashiki Born in 1947, native of Iwate Prefecture. After passing through Osamu Tezuka’s Mushi Production, became a scenario writer. Known for scripts of theatrical anime films such as “Hang in There, Tabuchi-kun!”, “Barefoot Gen”, and the “Phoenix” series. Also worked on numerous TV anime scripts like “Gutsy Frog”, “Gamba’s Adventure”, and “Tomorrow’s Joe”. Additionally, wrote scripts for original videos and TV dramas like “The Laughing Target”, “One-Pound Gospel”, and has written many novels, actively contributing as a versatile scriptwriter. Member of the Japan Broadcast Writers Association.

The letter:

Dear Nanako Misonoo, How are you? How is university life? It’s hard to believe that three years have passed since then. I was involved with you and those around you for just one year, but in retrospect, it was a very intense year. In any case, I did something terrible to you. It may have been the extreme form of “bullying” in some sense. My work as a scriptwriter involved probing and expanding the uncharted worlds between the frames of original works, constructing new narratives. In a sense, it was a painful job. And for you, it was excruciating. But now it’s a wonderful memory. I am filled with the feeling that I did some real work after a long time. How is your best friend, Tomoko? What about Mariko? I assume Fuki is becoming more and more beautiful? Do you occasionally receive letters from Kaoru? This summer marked the third anniversary of Saint-Just-sama’s passing. Thinking back, it was an unusually hot day. Your anguished form, waiting alone at the platform while listening to the chirping cicadas and the sound of the sea, is still etched in my memory. I hear that there has not been a single day without flowers at the electric pole where Saint-Just-sama fell. I am grateful for the chance to have met you and the people around you. Autumn, 1993

Volume Two’s “Letter to Dear Brother”

Bio:

Kazuhiko Shimamoto Born April 26, 1961 From the hinterland of Hokkaido After being selected as an honorable mention in the 9th Shogakukan Newcomer Comics Award Debuted with “Hissatsu no Transfer Student”. His masterpieces include Gyakkyo Nine’ and Moeyo Pen. Examples include Flame Transfer Student’ and Kamen Rider ZO.”

The letter:

Another piece directed by Osamu Dezaki and supervised by Akio Sugino has become a permanent edition (converted to LaserDisc)! (Hooray!) From the anime “Ashita no Joe” (1), the unique and beautiful way of life portrayed in anime is so intense that it has consistently given us dreams, hopes, despair, loneliness, friendship, love, perseverance, and revival! These works have even surpassed the original works in the emotional impact of their final episodes. I continue to be captivated by the atmosphere conveyed by these works. The reason I enjoy drawing the final episodes of my own works is entirely due to Director Dezaki’s influence! Currently, Osamu Tezuka and Ikki Kajiwara, the two individuals whom I revered as gods in the manga world, are no longer with us. Even now, these works, which possess added charm, continue to provide us (even those who have become professionals) with anticipation for the next episode, life lessons, and motivation for creating works. Seagulls, dance! Liquids, shine!! Wind, blow and then, “Why go to such lengths?” Charafo! Go as far as you can go! Mariko, somehow you’re really scary, Mariko.

Then the words scribbled next to the drawing of Mariko:

You are the protagonist of this work! I’m paying the most attention to you. You’re not alone! That’s right! Make me Mariko’s ‘older brother’… ‘older brother’…

Mariko is saying (OCR mangling here, sadly):

Thank you… I just feel… that’s special… Why not? If I had to say, maybe it’s a ‘woman’s world’…

(Clearly a reference to Rikiishi Toru of Dezaki’s earlier anime Ashita no Joe, who intensely speaks of a “man’s world”. He and Mariko love a good starvation diet!)

The little chibi version of Shimamoto(?) in the bottom left is saying:

But everyone, don’t easily become someone’s ‘older brother.’ It’ll be troublesome later!

GPT-4 noticed a cute reference it couldn’t include in its translation. Its note:

The text seems to be OCR scanned partially, and hence some meanings might be missing or distorted, such as “マンガ界のジョン・シルバーだ!!”, which appears to compare Dezaki and Sugino to a ‘John Silver’ of the manga world.

Volume Three

Volume Three Subheading

It’s not too late; our beautiful time can still be preserved, forever unspoiled, just like this white snow… A forbidden masterpiece of a cult anime born from satellite broadcasting! The fourth release on LD!

Volume Three Synopsis

Suddenly summoned to the sorority house, Nanako is pressured by Fukiko to end her relationship with Hemimi. Upon hearing this, Saint-Just confesses her complicated relationship with Fukiko. The shocking truth behind why “Miya-sama” wanted Nanako in the sorority unfolds, leaving her deeply shaken. Meanwhile, Saint-Just is tormented by the realization that the stronger her feelings for Fukiko, the more she ends up hurting her. The complex relationship between Saint-Just and Fukiko has a tragic past involving a near-suicidal event. On another front, Mariko causes an incident by attacking Misaki, motivated by slander about her parents’ divorce, which leads to a movement spearheaded by Kaoru to abolish the sorority. Amid the crumbling sorority, Fukiko remains composed. The fourth volume, “Chapter of Snow Dance,” captures her frightening yet noble confidence and deep sorrow. In the snow that never melts, remains the sad yet beautiful promise of Saint-Just.

Volume Three’s “From the staff to all the fans”

Bio:

Tomoko Konparu Born on March 13, 1956, in Nara Prefecture. Pisces. Blood type AB. A fan of both manga and anime, she became a screenplay writer and debuted during her university days with “Ikkyu-san.” Anime works include “Urusei Yatsura: Only You,” “Urusei Yatsura: Remember My Love,” “Touch 2: Farewell Gift,” “Phoenix,” “Cat’s Eye,” “Hime-chan’s Ribbon,” and more. Novel works include “Mystery at the Tower of London,” “Mystery at Nara’s Great Buddha” (published by Kobunsha Bunko), among others.

The letter:

When I heard that this work was going to be turned into an anime, I was shocked. I’d known about the series since its serialization, so my reaction was something like, “What!? Are they really going to do it!? And on NHK of all places!?” Expanding on the original work and filling in the parts that hadn’t been depicted was incredibly challenging, but also enjoyable. What surprised me was that, around the midpoint, the characters started to assert themselves, taking actions that were entirely different from what I had planned. The princess would say, “My pride isn’t so easily swayed,” San Just would insist, “I’m not going to commit suicide,” and even the older sisters of the sorority were like, “We can’t back down now.” Every time this happened, I had to rework the composition. This phenomenon of “characters moving on their own accord” was a first for me in an anime series, and it was an incredibly fresh and pleasant experience. That being said, it’s rare to be so emotionally invested in characters while working, to the point of even role-playing their lines. To be honest, this was a work that got my inner anime fan excited. Ah, I want to do work like this again!

Volume Three’s “Letter to Dear Brother”

Bio:

Keiko Fukuyama Born on September 7. From Tokyo. Currently, she is working as a manga artist, authoring works like “Ruru-chan of Star Island” and “The Tale of Appfelrant.” She also illustrates for children’s stories, including the “Mama Ghost Series.”

The letter:

It appears to be titled “To the Unforgettable Older Sister”. Much of it is too hard to OCR. It opens with this caption:

“To My Older Brother…” is so melancholic and sentimental that it instantly takes us back to our student days where we felt we were tossed around by fate for no fault of our own…

Here’s some of the text beside the character drawings:

Fukiko/Saint-Just: Reputed as the most beautiful sisters in school Mariko: The most popular Mariko-san who lured our tears. There’s a lot to think about! Tomoko: A straightforward, kind friend Nanako: So there I was, fully embracing my Nanako persona, reaping all the sorority perks you could imagine. (I mean, they even say they’ll hook me up with a dreamy guy!) 💧 And just when I’m soaking up that sorority vibe, guess who’s set to make a surprise appearance right after the teaser for the next issue!

Text coming out of the TV:

It was “Oniisama e”!!!! Poor Mariko-san, right~ Misaki-san also, there was no need to say that much, you know.

Volume Four

Volume Four Subheading

It’s not too late yet, our beautiful time can still last forever, unspoiled by anyone, just like this white snow… A forbidden cult anime masterpiece born from satellite broadcasting! The fourth installment on LD!

Volume Four Synopsis

Suddenly summoned to the sorority house, Nanako is pressured by Fukiko to end her relationship with Hemmi. Hearing this, Sanjust is compelled to confess his relationship with Fukiko. The shocking truth makes Nanako reel in disbelief. He deeply ponders that the stronger his feelings for Fukiko, the more he ends up hurting her. The unusual relationship between Sanjust and Fukiko reveals a tragic past of a failed double suicide. Meanwhile, in the school, an incident occurs where Mariko, slandered for her parents’ divorce, attacks Misaki, leading to an anti-sorority movement centered around Kaoru. Fukiko still acts nonchalantly in front of the crumbling sorority. The volume unfolds displaying Fukiko’s terrifying yet noble confidence and deep sorrow. A beautiful yet sad promise lingers in the snow that never melts.

Volume Four’s “From the staff to all the fans”

Bio:

Kenichiro Haneda Born on January 12, 1949. Graduated from Toho Gakuen College of Music in the Piano Department. An accomplished concert pianist, Kenichiro Haneda has a broad range of experience, including composing and performing music for movies and TV themes, as well as acting as a musical director for musicals and commercials. He has worked on numerous soundtracks such as NHK’s morning drama “Youth Family,” TBS’s “Women Work Hard” and “Life Is Full of Demons.” With his genre-defying approach to music and his bright, humorous personality, he is a sought-after multi-artist in various fields.

The letter:

I’ve worked quite a bit with Music Director Seiji Suzuki in the past. Suzuki gives me the music menu, and I’m the one who creates it. We’ve had some pretty detailed discussions about it. Of course, I’ve read the original work as well. When I read it at home, my daughter gives me a puzzled look, as if to say my interests have changed quite a bit (laughs). I think I wrote around 40 songs in total. The music is meant to have a Baroque sound while also feeling contemporary. The order was for something classical yet with a pop atmosphere. The image that immediately came to my mind was a rhythm section, with a harpsichord playing the melody. String instruments intricately marking the rhythm, much like Vivaldi’s Four Seasons. And on top of that, a flugelhorn playing the melody… Regarding the scenes where the piano is played, I played all of it myself. I often compose and perform my own pieces. It’s less about talent and more like playing two roles; maybe I contribute quite a bit to cost-saving (laughs). In any case, this work has a unique atmosphere. If the music I created successfully captures that, then I must again express my gratitude to Suzuki for coordinating everything. October 28, 1993, aired on NHK

Volume Four’s “Letter to Dear Brother”

Bio:

Hideaki Anno Born on May 22, 1960. Originally from Ube, Yamaguchi Prefecture. Height is 180 cm; weight is a secret. Debuted as an animator during his time at Osaka University of Arts, working on the TV version of “Macross.” Later worked on “Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind,” the film version of “Macross,” “Royal Space Force,” and others, before directing “Gunbuster” and “Nadia: The Secret of Blue Water.” Currently planning new projects.

The letter:

Way to go!! Oniisama e… Wow!! The long-awaited, tumultuous Volume 4!! This volume shows us the peak of the series, from Mariko-san’s stabbing incident to the dissolution of the sorority. Amazing, this is really amazing!! Yes. Especially the heartbreaking breakdown of Nobuo’s family, and the portrayal of the sorority’s downfall reminiscent of the French Revolution, are things that are indescribable with words. Yes. The highlights this time are– Brilliant! Highly sophisticated direction and high-quality animation in Episode 27! Tear-jerking! In Episode 28, Mr. Nobuo Hikawa’s soul-stirring outcry!! Upon hearing those lines, my tears really wouldn’t stop. Seriously. Amazing!! Oh, so moving! The heartfelt words of Miya-sama at the end of Episode 32. The sight of Miya-sama waiting alone in the Sorority House and those lines really hit me hard. Moreover, as always– Incredible!! The world that reminds me of ‘Aim for the Ace!’ and ‘The Rose of Versailles’!! Impressive!! The drama unfolds only in limited settings, like homes, trains, buses, crossings, schools, and other familiar places!! Very Sophisticated!! The direction, composed of stillness and motion, light and black, feels so mature. As expected, Dezaki-san! And, Powerful!! Nanako-san is turning into an adult right before our eyes. Moreover, the music is also great!! I wish the BGM CD would come out soon. The use of chimes and telephones remains clever as ever!! Ah, the only thing missing is a bit more on the background elements… by H. ANO ‘93 10/27

The tiger is saying “It’s awesome, isn’t it!”

Written above the drawings of Mariko and Saint-Just: “These two are definitely the ones. Yes.”

Volume Five

Volume Five Subheading

The summer full of light ends, the eventful summer ends… And then the cherry blossoms bloom again… Brother, I am now… A satellite broadcast-born forbidden cult anime masterpiece! The final chapter on LD!

Volume Five Synopsis

Finally, the petition to abolish the sorority has garnered signatures from over two-thirds of all students. As the campus is in a state of upheaval, Saint-Just is lost in thought alone. One day, he calls Nanako out and promises to take her to the beach where he used to go often with his mother when he was younger. However, on the promised day, Saint-Just never shows up. His sudden death plunges many people, including Nanako, into the depths of sorrow. Among them, Kaoru, who is battling cancer and fearful of its recurrence, takes the news of Saint-Just’s death most seriously. She finds comfort in the warmth of Takahiko Henmi, but continues to stubbornly refuse his love, thinking about his future. Love, friendship, bonds… The fifth volume, titled “Chapter of the Fireflies,” explores the dignity, beauty, and value of human life. Seasons turn, and the cherry blossoms bloom again, bringing back familiar scents to Nanako. All of this is accompanied by the most beautiful “love.”

Volume Five’s “From the staff to all the fans”

Bio:

Riyoko Ikeda Born December 18, Showa 22 (1947). Native of Osaka City. Blood type AB. Graduated from Tokyo Metropolitan Hakutsuru High School and went on to the Philosophy department at Tokyo University of Education (now Tsukuba University). Began drawing manga during her time in school and debuted with “The Girl in the Rose Mansion.” In 1972, she achieved great success with “The Rose of Versailles,” acquiring a broad fan base that transcended the realm of girls’ manga. Known for her keen historical perspective and deep insight into human nature. Active as a writer and essayist as well. Her hobbies include Nihon buyo (Japanese traditional dance), oil painting, movie appreciation, vocal music, piano, cooking, and knitting. Her work has been selected for the 76th Nika Exhibition. Major works: “The Rose of Versailles,” “Window of Orpheus,” “Empress Catherine,” “To My Brother,” “At the Ends of the Sky,” “The Blue Pomegranate,” “My Manga” Books: “If Only Life Could Be Lived Once,” “Women of the French Revolution,” “Women Who Wrote Masterpieces” Currently writing “Eroica” and “Prince Shotoku.”

The letter:

As one who has journeyed far from that radiant chapter called youth, a time that shone with an almost awkward brilliance, I find myself in a peculiar blend of bewilderment and nostalgia. Seeing my old ideas of high school life come to life as animation almost 20 years later is surreal, to say the least. Still, it’s exciting: hearing voices given to these characters, seeing them talk, laugh, and get angry. Watching them come alive is truly a thrilling and satisfying experience. Ah, adolescence — everyone’s inescapable stairway to adulthood. Some people take each step slowly and carefully, while others rush ahead, ending up out of breath or even lost. And then, there are those who may lose their direction, standing still, contemplating each step. Wrapped in the love of family, meeting various people, nurturing friendships, experiencing love, and going through the ups and downs of hurt and forgiveness — it would be wonderful to climb those steps in such a way.

Volume Five’s “Letter to Dear Brother”

Bio:

Rumiko Takahashi Born in Niigata Prefecture. Debuted in 1978 with “Katte na Yatsura,” submitted while still in college, in Shonen Sunday. Famous works include “Urusei Yatsura,” “Maison Ikkoku,” and others. Currently serializing “Ranma 1/2” in Shonen Sunday.

The letter:

A masterpiece infused with the creator’s soul. When I heard from the staff that “Oniisama e…” was getting the anime treatment on satellite TV, I was surprised. I’d delved into the original comic before and it’s quite an eccentric story. “How are they going to pull this off?” I thought. But learning that the script was in the capable hands of my acquaintance Tomoko Konparu, I was very excited. In fact, the anime that aired was genuinely captivating. The characters are so larger-than-life that they electrify the screen the moment they step into frame. It’s been a long time since an anime had that kind of presence. I believe the animation is done by the same people who worked on “Tomorrow’s Joe 2.” The scenes are so visceral that you can almost feel the punches land and see the fighters hit the mat. I kept asking myself, “Why isn”t a mouthpiece flying out?” (laughs) My favorite character in the work is Nobuo Mariko. The scenes where she bites her lip until it turns a flushed red, I find it really cute. But what blew me away was the show’s emotional intelligence. Just when the heroine seems on the brink of breaking, a lifeline is thrown her way. This nuanced touch prevents the darker, more harrowing elements from overwhelming the viewer. It’s as if you can feel the sincerity of the creator throughout the piece.

And that’s it. Again, check out the full scans on Archive.org, and remember to encourage all your friends to experience this beautiful anime!

#oniisama e #dear brother #osamu dezaki #riyoko ikeda #laserdisc #anime #おにいさまへ…#出﨑統 #池田理代子

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iamgonnagetyouback · 4 months ago

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Hello hello! Congratulations on 2k, I'm so proud!!! I was wondering if I could possibly request a 🏹 fairy's arrow?

My preferred fandom would be the marauders, and the gender male. I'm a ravenclaw, and a INTP, and a Virgo sun, sag moon, and Libra rising (if your into those things lol)

I really love to read, and write, and draw. I also love to learn, but don't tend to flaunt it. I can be rather chaotic, often acting dumber than I am for the bit or just to gather more experiences, and have been told on several occasions I'm a poster child for ADHD XDD. I don't tend to flaunt my intelligence, but I can be confused and slightly concerned if my friend doesn't know something I think is general knowledge, and then I end up ranting about the specifics, and they look at me like I'm crazy, but I really just like to read and soak up knowledge like a sponge. I've had several friends say I'm like "the mom friend meets airport dad meets chaotic good" or along those likes, yk?

I also am very naturally curious and one of my biggest goals is to buy a van or trailer and travel the entire world, leaving no stone unturned. With my off the walls nature, I find trouble in staying in one place for long.

Some dislikes/pet peeves are as follows: STYROFOAM. I have an extreme hatred for it. It's the bane of my existence, and i refuse to touch it. Also I really dislike slow walkers, and loud chewers. I also really hate it when a package claims to be easy to open but then it isn't. And when my jar of pickled banana peppers won't open.

BRO I love pickled banana peppers so much they're the loml I eat them on everything all the time. I'm sure my blood is 70% pickled brine at the rate I consume these babies.

also! My music taste is like.. super all over the place. I love 'in this moment', 'halestorm', 'rob zombie' and stuff like that, but I also love ve divorced dad rock, and metal, and like... Whatever genre 'aesha erotica' is, and I also love 'the oh hellos', and 'kesha' and also I've been super obssessed with 'ptolemaea' by Ethel Cain recently.

I also don't believe in tmi, or taboo subjects, or anything being to macabre, as I think like everything should be normal, bc if it exists it should be talked about. Also I yap so much.

Thank you so much for your time, I really appreciate it<33 have a wonderful morning/day/night, wherever you are, and keep chugging on, you got this!! Also, don't forget to take a stretch break, get a snack or some food, and drink some water!!!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⠀────۶ৎ sirius black

omg stop you're so sweet ♡ you too angel!!! stay cozy, stay hydrated, and keep being the cutest lil chaos machine ever ‹𝟹

nav. ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀2k celebration. ⠀

okay, sirius. 100%

°‧ʚଓ⋆ ༊·˚࿔*:･ he sees you being all chaotic genius and just immediately decides you’re his favorite person. like, you’ll be going off on a knowledge rant, eyes all bright, hands moving, and he’s just sitting there like wow. incredible. tell me more

°‧ʚଓ⋆ ༊·˚࿔*:･ your whole “mom friend meets airport dad meets chaotic good” energy?? he EATS IT UP. you’re keeping him alive (literally—you’ve stopped him from walking into traffic multiple times), but you’re also the one dragging him into ridiculous adventures. shh...it’s a balance

°‧ʚଓ⋆ ༊·˚࿔*:･ you wanna travel the world? guess who’s already packing his bags. sirius doesn’t do well staying in one place either, so the second you bring up your van or trailer dream, he’s all in. “reckon we should start in europe. or south america. or—anywhere but here, really.”

°‧ʚଓ⋆ ༊·˚࿔*:･ you never have to worry about something being “too much” around him. no topic is off-limits. you talk about whatever you want, and he adores that you never shut up

°‧ʚଓ⋆ ༊·˚࿔*:･ he is obsessed with how much you love pickled banana peppers. he tries one once and gags dramatically, but he’ll always make sure you have an endless supply

°‧ʚଓ⋆ ༊·˚࿔*:･ you hate styrofoam? slow walkers? he gets it. the first time you told him about the styrofoam thing, he made the mistake of bringing some near you. your reaction was so intense he vowed to never do it again

#𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ ivy's 2k celebration ༊·˚#𓇢𓆸 fairy's arrow 🏹.ᐟ #divider creds : bambicito #divider by anitalenia #sirius black #sirius black headcanon #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black fluff #sirius black x y/n

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aching-tummies · 11 months ago

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Well if your to stuffed to sleep we might as we'll have some fun with your packed tummy. Squeezing and prodding your belly insisting there must be some air trapped in there that's why you feel so full even as you groan that there's not and jostling your tummy so much is only making it ache worse.

Finally got inspired to write a scenario with this one ^////^ I hope you enjoy! Honestly, not even sure if it's been the same anon for the last 4 asks--but you're a damn good muse.

Honestly, the 3 asks linked below and this one have sent me the last few days and made my entire month. If it is all from the same person it's really testing my stance on IMs/DMs or whatever. Thank you for indulging me and respecting the "Use the askbox" rule of my blog!

"Too Full to Sleep" RP-Starter

1st Ask

2nd Ask

3rd Ask

Scenario under the cut.

"Nnngh. Quit it. Babe--q-quit it." I murmur, whimpers interrupting my sleepy protests as you continue your actions.

I'd been laying on my right side after having spent a few minutes on my left--my shoulder protesting every position. I usually toss and turn at night, switching sides until I eventually fall asleep and wake up to a sore neck or my arm numb from awkward positioning. Sleep hasn't come this night--but not because of the sore neck/arm/shoulder situation.

My belly is visibly distended. Firm to the touch and distressingly stretched around a large glut of food.

You've been messing with it. Patting it, jostling it, smacking it, pressing and prodding into it every chance you get.

I let out a huff. "I keep tellin' you--if there was any air trapped in there at all, it woulda made a noise at any point in the last four hours." I reiterate curtly, more upset at the lack of sleep than at your actions.

"I haven't felt so much as a shift in here--and I know you certainly haven't heard any gurgles." I swat at your offending hands as I turn over and drag my bloated form to sit up against the headboard. I know that you haven't gotten what you've wanted to hear out of my belly. I know what you want and usually, I'd be totally down to be your source of ambient-gurgles. Too bad, it seems that tonight my organs have opted to go on-strike. It sucks for me too 'cuz your incessant probing and prodding has only gotten more forceful the longer my guts refuse to sing for you.

"Give it a rest. All you're doing it making it hurt more." I mutter with a pout, cradling my bloated belly with both palms and running soothing fingers over the achy globe that has taken the place of my stomach. I certainly ain't the trimmest person in a crowd--but I'm content with the fact that I've kept a figure that doesn't 'hang' or 'muffin' or whatever. I'm used to an unobstructed view of my legs while laying down. The current state of my belly obstructs that familiar view.

You shove against my belly forcefully from your spot on my left. I wince as your palm pushes against the unrelenting pressure in my guts, making me see white for a split second. I hear your frustrated snarl when the action isn't met by the usual gurgling.

Damnit. What were those noodles made of? We should check the packaging for the ingredients and wherever it was made. I don't think we'll be buying any more of this particular brand again. Ridiculously filling, sure; undergoes some horrific alchemic transmutation when eaten to become an indigestible mass of matter. It ain't even good for our usual niche interests 'cuz there have been zero grumbles or gurgles in the last four hours. My tummy is clearly distressed and unhappy with what's in it and being done to it--but it's 100% silent--like some mystical being hit 'pause' on the area between my diaphragm and my large intestine, and nowhere else.

You poke forcefully into my navel, frustration clearly coming out in the jabbing force you apply to what's normally the most sensitive part of my belly.

"C'mon! Gotta gimme somethin'!" You snarl--clearly frustrated as you slap at my belly. Replace my belly with a stubborn vending machine that's taken your money without dispensing any sort of item and the internet would tell you 'They're the same picture'.

"Oooh…nnngh…ow." I moan. Moan only. No gasp, no hiss, no pathetically small puff of gastric-smelling air from my lips. I glare at you. "It doesn't matter how much you poke, prod, stab, punch, slap, shake, knead, or pinch--it ain't happenin'."

I shoo you away, trying to soothe my achy belly. Honestly, I wish there was something in there to press out. Four hours and counting of feeling like an over-filled piping bag is getting annoying. My stomach's taken being a tease much, much, much too far. I even tried intentionally swallowing air, but again, ramen must be acting like a plug or something 'cuz none of it settled in my guts and all we accomplished after forcing me to take ridiculously huge breaths and try to push out my belly was just pushing what was a 6/10 on the pain scale up to a 11/10 for a while. The muscles and sinew or whatever else is under my skin in my abdomen were all left aching--like thread being pulled too taut over and over and over again.

Ignoring you never turns out good. Unfortunately, tonight isn't just me giving you the silent treatment 'cuz of some minor argument--my belly has snubbed you too. Knowing you, revenge is gonna be swift. I can only hope. I'm starting to get desperate--feeling so stuffed for so long is exhausting.

#tummy ache

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ofgrenvde · 3 months ago

Text

@blackbcxwarning

Titus Aydin The daisies had been an impulse buy—something bright to match her bakery's cheerful energy. As he stood at her doorstep second-guessing whether bringing flowers crossed some invisible line in their undefined relationship. Would she read too much into flowers? There was this limbo of a status between them. Sure, he'd bandaged her hand that day and he often came to her bakery. Other than that, what were they? Then again, she did flirt with him. That said something. "I brought something to brighten your kitchen," he said when Millie opened the door. "Although, from these amazing smells, you hardly need the help."

Millie Zhao. she had been working on dinner for the past hour and a half, giving herself minimal time to freshen up once everything was done but Titus had already seen her in a place where she was a mess so even if she wasn’t exactly where she wanted to be, she knew he would be okay with it. Smoothing over her dress as she looked in the mirror, she heard the knock at the door and after taking a deep breath, she walked out. She could do this. It wasn’t like he was a stranger. She opened up the door and smiled at the sight of him and the flowers he brought, “they’re beautiful.” She cooed and took them from him. Millie stepped back, “come in, I hope you brought your appetite.”

Titus Aydin Her smile as she took the flowers made him question why he'd spent fifteen minutes debating whether to bring them in the first place. The way her face lit up—it was worth every second of overthinking. Millie's home radiated the same warmth she did, with personal touches that told stories he wanted to learn. "My appetite has been curious about your cooking skills ever since you mentioned them," Titus said, breathing in aromas that promised something far better than his usual takeout dinners. It struck him how long it had been since he'd done this—just visited someone's home without ulterior motives or expectations. He wondered if she could tell how out of practice he was at this—just being a person sharing space with another person. Part of him wanted to ask what this was between them, but another part enjoyed the undefined nature of whatever they were building here.

Millie Zhao. she couldn't remember the last time anyone had brought her flowers and she was flattered that he brought them at all. "good," she paused and waved him inside, stepped back so that he could come in. "come in." she encouraged and shut the door behind him. "dinner's just about done. i hope you like steak," she hoped that he did, especially since she'd spent the past couple of hours cooking but if he didn't then she was sure she could whip something else up for him. after all, she wanted him to stay. she wanted this dinner. she moved toward her kitchen and placed her flowers in a vase, smiling at the fact that she received them in the first place. "do you want some wine? or water? no pressure, if you don't want to drink." she spoke, turning to look at him as she did so.

Titus Aydin Titus stepped inside, instantly noticing how different her place was from his sterile apartment. The space felt lived in, personal, unlike his temporary-feeling rooms. This wasn't what he'd expected when accepting her dinner invitation—he figured maybe pastries from her bakery, not a full meal. "Steak sounds perfect." He realized he'd barely eaten all day, just coffee and whatever he'd found in the clinic vending machine between stitching up a gunshot wound and setting a broken arm. This was becoming his standard diet lately. Caffeine and whatever plastic-wrapped garbage kept him going through the day. Probably why his stomach was already growling at the promise of actual food. No wonder his body felt like it was running on empty. He couldn't remember the last time someone cooked him a real meal that wasn't packaged in styrofoam. "Wine would be nice," he said. "It smells amazing in here." Not to mention, it actually looked really nice. “How long have you been living here for?”

Millie Zhao. she was neat and everything had a color scheme. Millie liked everything to flow, which she was sure wasn’t that much of a surprise since her bakery was the same or maybe it was. she nodded as he spoke and pulled out two wine glasses, pouring both of them a cup of red wine. Handing him one, she nodded toward the table and led him over to where the two of them would be eating. “Mm, I’ve been here about five years. I had a different place before this and then upgraded when I could. I think it’s just enough for me.” She smiled and set her glass down. “Make yourself as home and I’ll make us both a plate.”

Titus Aydin Titus studied the wine in his glass, letting the quiet settle. His apartment had nothing but a mattress and some basic furniture—proof he never planned to stay. Five years in one spot. The idea rattled around his head like a loose screw. His own place was just somewhere to sleep between hospital shifts, not really living. She'd built something real here, while he kept one foot out the door. Always ready to run. Always temporary. "The place suits you," he said and he actually meant it. He'd never been good at compliments, but this one slipped out naturally, probably because her home reflected everything she was. Her space had character, unlike his blank canvas of an apartment that screamed "temporary resident" in bold letters. This felt dangerous, getting comfortable in someone else's world, letting his guard down, actually wanting to stay put for once. And yet, here he was, not running. "Can't wait to try it."

Millie Zhao. she nodded, "i think so too. thank you." millie noted how he looked deep in thought and she wondered if, despite the flowers, he wanted to remain friends. a part of her was afraid she'd overstepped by calling this a date, even if he had seemed into it back at the bakery. as she made the two of them a plate, both consisting of steak, fresh green beans, and a side of potatoes, she tried to calm her nerves. dating wasn't something she did and she still wasn't even sure if this was what this was. carrying the plates to the table, she set them down and looked back at him, offering him a small smile, "you know there's like…no pressure tonight, right? we can make this a friend thing if that's more comfortable for you."

Titus Aydin A strange tightness gripped him as he watched her set down the plates. Every instinct screamed to backpedal, to take the easy out she offered. But something about her made him want to push past those walls he'd built. His gaze fixed on the perfectly arranged food, and his stomach growled. "I know. It's the same on here," The lie slipped out smoothly. Did he mean it? Nope. But he would never want her to think that she owed him something. "Unless you want there to be pressure." The words escaped before his brain could catch up with his mouth. Idiot. He'd spent years keeping people at arm's length, and now here he was, practically inviting complications. But maybe complications weren't always bad. Maybe some were worth the risk. The flowers sitting in their vase seemed to mock his attempted casualness.

Millie Zhao. her eyes stared at him for a moment, mostly because she couldn't really figure out what the man wanted from this and the last thing she wanted was to make a complete fool of herself. millie broke her eyes away from him and shifted to sit down, smoothing her skirt over her legs. "no, i mean," she looked back at him, her hands moving to place her napkin in her lap, "i don't want there to be pressure if it's going to make things weird." she added. she just felt as though there was a shift in the energy between them and she wasn't sure if it were a good thing or bad thing. "anyways, did you get some rest? you don't look as exhausted as you normally do. i'm glad you took what i said into consideration."

Titus Aydin "Had the best coma of my life," he said with a laugh. He'd meant it as a joke, but the words hit too close. That first coma—waking up in a hospital bed with nothing but static where his life should have been. At least this time he knew who he was when his eyes opened, even if that person existed only from 2002 forward. "Two days without sleep probably wasn't my brightest move. But the clinic gets busy and time just…" He let the thought trail off. Two days of chaos flashed through his mind—blood and burns and screams that wouldn't stop. The explosion left a mark on everyone, but the faces of those victims stayed with him, burned into his brain like photographs he couldn't throw away. Sleep meant reliving those moments in vivid detail—the way that kid looked at him, trusting him to make everything okay when they both knew it wouldn't be. He'd rather stay awake than watch those scenes play on repeat behind his eyelids. At least consciousness gave him control over which memories surfaced. “Anyway, this is good.”

Millie Zhao. "good. you needed that." millie had no idea that sentence had another meaning. she was still trying to get to know titus. she focused on her plate, meticulously cutting her steak into small pieces. she was particular in the way she consumed her food and always had been. glancing back up at him, she shook her head. "it wasn't. you definitely can't keep helping people if you don't take care of yourself. you're going to wear yourself and that's grounds for mistakes." she pointed out, pausing to take a few bites of her food before she washed it down with some wine. she smiled, "good. i'm glad you like it. i was a little nervous you wouldn't enjoy it as much as the sweets."

Titus Aydin Millie's methodical eating caught Titus's eye. She was clearly organized. "If you saw what walks through my door, you'd understand why two days feels like a reasonable tradeoff," he said. The Grand Royale explosion had him running on fumes, but what could he do? People needed help and nobody else was stepping up. She wasn't wrong about the mistakes part—that was the kicker. One slip because his brain decided to temporarily check out, and someone might not make it home. "You've been hiding your cooking talent behind those pastry cases. Should I be worried about what other skills you're keeping secret?" First the baker, now the chef—it was like discovering new rooms in a house he thought he'd already explored. "Food beats sleep anyway. One good steak is worth at least eight hours of unconsciousness. It definitely helps that I’m sharing it with you." He wanted to test how far this flirting could go, how her eyes might change if he pushed just a little further, because the way she looked at him sometimes made him wonder if she felt it too.

Millie Zhao. she was particular in a lot of ways, her eating habbits being one of those things. "i do understand that you have a lot of people to take care of and i wouldn't be surprised if there were an influx after the explosion," she paused to take in a small bite of her food, "but you need rest in order to help people too." she added. she laughed softly at what he said next, "i'm pretty crafty too. i can crochet and sew a little. i'm almost a jack, or jacqueline, of all trades." she spoke, a small laugh leaving her lips. she felt the corner of her lips pulling up further as he spoke, "oh yeah? so you're not just here for the food?" she teased softly, her eyes on his.

Titus Aydin "Yeah, my clinic's been packed since the Grand Royale incident. Nobody wants hospital records when they're dodging questions." The explosion meant business, but at what cost? His patients kept multiplying while his sleep kept diminishing. Her mention of crocheting caught his attention—he'd only ever seen her hands work pastry magic. "So you're crafty in multiple ways? I'm starting to think there's a secret Millie that only comes out when I'm not around." What else didn't he know about her? Titus was sure he’d made his intentions clear. Apparently, not clear enough. Her playful questioning about his intentions made him want to be clear. No more dancing around what was happening between them. "Would I be here if it's just for the food? Not to insult you, but I could head to one of the restaurants in town if I wanted a proper meal." He paused, his gaze lingering on her pretty face before continuing. "I thought I made it clear this is a date."

Millie Zhao. she wasn’t surprised to hear how busy he had been since the attack. Millie knew what kind of people he typically helped but she minded her business in that aspect. A job was a job and she knew that. She assumed he had nothing else to do with any of the crime families. After all, who was she to judge? She was a zhao. “I suppose I’m just good with my hands. I can draw a little but not anything too complicated.” She spoke, a small chuckle leaving her lips. As he went on about how he could be somewhere else tonight, she was glad that he wasn’t. She wanted this date with Titus and it was good to know that the two of them were on the same page. “I guess I just got a little nervous you might change your mind. It’s been forever since I’ve been on a date.” She confessed.

Titus Aydin Dating wasn't exactly his strong suit these days, what with running an underground clinic and all. Millie worried about him changing his mind? If she only knew how long he'd been trying to figure out how to ask her properly. Sure, they'd circled each other with those bakery visits—him pretending he needed another coffee when they both recognized the game being played. Drawing too? So she had multiple talents beyond making those almond croissants that kept him coming back. Her hands probably created all sorts of beautiful things he hadn't seen yet. Dating drought—well, that made two of them. His life hadn't exactly left room for romance between stitching up gunshot wounds and trying to piece together fragments of his past. But he'd made space for her, hadn't he? That said something. "I could never," he said. He wasn't that kind of guy–the kind who would change their minds at a drop of a dime. "To be honest, I haven't been either. I've been focused on the clinic, and trying to find ways to find out who I am."

Millie Zhao. to know that he was in the same boat as she was, was reassuring. "so, we can figure this whole thing out together." she spoke, offering him a sweet smile. millie had thought she felt something between them during his many bakery visits but she didn't want to be the kind of girl that assumed he was interested in her just because he was nice to her. this date was all the confirmation she needed to know that he really was into her. she tilted her head in curiosity, "what do you mean by that? finding out who you are, i mean." she wanted to know everything about him and this date was her opportunity to really get to know the man.

Titus Aydin Strange how natural it felt sharing secrets with someone who started as just his morning coffee supplier. Millie had this way of making everything seem less complicated. "We can figure it out at our own pace," he said. These quiet moments at her bakery had become the highlight of his chaotic days—a break from the endless questions that plagued him. Twenty years was a long time to carry around a blank space where memories should be. But here she was, asking about his past like it wasn't the heaviest conversation starter in existence. "You didn't know how I got here?" He asked. "Some people found me unconscious near Angel's Rest. The doctors told me I kept muttering 'Titus' in Turkish while out cold…figured that must've been my name. Now I've been searching for answers. I need to know who I am." He never thought he’d be that guy who would spill his darkest truth, but she made him want to be honest for once.

Millie Zhao. "i like the sound of that." she certainly didn't want to rush things between the two of them. millie wanted to take her time and see if this could really be something, especially when she felt as excited to give this a try as she did. "no, i don't think you ever told me." she responded. she gave him her full attention, her brows lifting in surprise and her lips parting. that certainly wasn't what she expected him to say. "so you just randomly ended up in devil's junction one day?" obviously he wasn't sure but she couldn't believe what she was hearing. "when did this happen? you really don't remember anything?"

Titus Aydin Over twenty years of blank pages instead of a life story. Not how most people introduced themselves, but with Millie, the truth just slipped out. "Yeah, that's the short version. Showed up near Angel's Rest barely alive with zero ID." The medical staff probably thought he'd die—plot twist. His brain kept the medical knowledge while dumping everything personal. Some cosmic joke that wasn't particularly funny. "Doctors were baffled. I kept muttering 'Titus' in Turkish while unconscious, so the name stuck. Woke up fluent in languages I don't remember learning and could perform surgical procedures I never studied." Strange how easy this conversation felt compared to the careful walls he built with others. Something about her bakery and her straightforward questions made the truth less heavy. Maybe that explained why he invented reasons to stop by Sweet Fortune beyond medical follow-ups. She made the mystery of his existence feel less like a burden and more like a puzzle they could solve together. "It happened in 2002. So it's been a long time."

Millie Zhao. it felt nice that the man was opening up to her, especially when he didn't have to. this was a first date after all and he was admitting some pretty deep stuff. regardless of that, it made her feel more connected to him and she wanted to see if maybe she could help him figure out who he was. "that's insane. i'm so sorry that happened to you." she spoke, her hand reaching out to rest on top of his, giving it a comforting squeeze. "i know i wasn't a part of your past but maybe i could help you find some things out. only if you're comfortable though. if you'd rather do it on your own, i'd understand." she reassured, giving the man a kind smile.

Titus Aydin Her willingness to help caught him off guard. People usually backed away slowly when his past came up, like they might catch the amnesia. Millie didn't flinch—instead she volunteered to join his twenty-year-old cold case. Her hand felt steady on his, and his mind raced with possibilities. What if she actually found something? What if she didn't? Would disappointment ruin whatever this connection was becoming? He'd tried investigators before, each one collecting checks while delivering nothing but theories. But this felt different. She wasn't offering out of professional curiosity or for money, she actually seemed to care. The thought made something shift inside him, a crack in the armor he'd built around his non-existent past. "That's actually really kind of you," he said. What would it be like to have someone else care about his mystery? "That would be helpful, but only if it helps. No pressure, of course." Maybe two heads was better than one in this case.

Millie Zhao. millie did things out of the kindness of her heart and not because she could potentially be benefitted by the result. after all, if she did that then she'd be just like her family - the same family she'd sworn off contact with. "well, i assume it's hard to face all of this on your own and if i can help you then that's definitely something that i want to do." she replied, her thumb rubbing soothing circles on the back of his hand. "sure, i just want to be there for you, so if there's ever a place that you want to check out then i don't mind tagging along. i'm a lot tougher than i look." and she wasn't afraid of anything, especially if she had titus by her side.

Titus Aydin Millie offering to help with his past struck him differently than the investigators who'd taken his money for years. She wanted nothing in return—just to help him face the darkness. Her thumb traced circles on his hand, and for once he didn't pull away. Twenty years of dead ends made him cautious about hope, but her sincerity was hard to dismiss. What would happen if she actually found something? Would knowing be worse than wondering? The questions piled up, but her steadiness beside him made them less daunting. "It's hard to face alone," he said. The idea of her witnessing whatever they might uncover was both comforting and terrifying. His past could be bloody—medical knowledge didn't come from nowhere. Would she look at him differently once they found the truth? "I don't doubt your toughness. I'm more concerned about what we might find." The missing pieces of himself might be better left scattered, but he was tired of being incomplete.

Millie Zhao. she had no doubt in her mind that all of this was hard on him and she just hoped that he would accept the support she was trying to offer. Millie just wanted him to know that he had her to lean on while he tried to figure all of this out. “What? Are you afraid you might have a wife and kids you forgot about?” Her tone was teasing but the woman was curious to know what it was that he was worried about finding out about himself. Then again, she knew it was probably normal for him to feel some sort of anxiety about the unknown. “I doubt whatever we find out, if anything, is going to be that bad. I don’t think it’s anything to worry about and if it is then, well, we can figure it out together right?” She asked in a soft tone, her head tilted to one side as she gazed at the man, her smile widening slightly in attempt to reassure him.

Titus Aydin That forgotten-family joke really stung. Titus had wondered about that exact scenario for twenty years—did someone mourn him? Search for him? Give up? She was so sure his past wasn't that bad, he almost believed her. But could he actually say that? "A wife and kids would be simple compared to the scenarios I've imagined," he said. The truth was darker—what legitimate doctor gets dumped half-dead with surgical skills intact but identity wiped clean? Her offer to figure things out together kept replaying in his mind. Partnership was foreign territory after decades of lone searching. The idea of someone standing beside him when the truth finally surfaced felt both reassuring and dangerous. Would seeing the actual man beneath the mystery change how she looked at him? "Together is something I haven't tried before. I've hired investigators, but never had anyone who just wanted to help. Let me know if you need payment. I’ve been told I’m great with stitches.” That was a joke, obviously.

Millie Zhao. it wasn’t as though she was trying to joke about his situation but she just hated to see the man so worried about something he’d been trying to figure out on his own. Millie was his shoulder to lean on as long as he wanted her to me. Her brows furrowed slightly, “what do you mean? What’ve you imagined?” She had a hard time believing that Titus could be anything bad. He was nice and helpful from what she’d seen but clearly he had something in the back of his head that was bothering him. She let out a small laugh at his joke, her free hand coming up to lean her cheek against the palm of her hand. “I don’t see myself needing stitches any time soon but there is another form of payment I’ll take,” it was now or never right? “I can’t say I’d hate to be paid in a kiss.”

Titus Aydin The scenarios he'd imagined over the years weren't pleasant ones. What kind of past led to someone being dumped with surgical skills but no identity? "Worst case? I was some kind of medical experiment. Or maybe I worked for people who didn't want me remembering what I'd seen. Could have been military--black ops medical division or something equally dramatic." He shrugged, trying to make light of possibilities that had kept him awake countless nights. The truth was probably mundane compared to his imagination, but the fragments that surfaced—symbols, languages he shouldn't know, procedures he'd never been taught—suggested otherwise. Her suggestion of payment caught him off guard. For a moment he thought he'd misheard her. A kiss? From him? The offer hung between them, and he realized he'd been staring. "Is that so?" He asked, his eyes on her plump lips. Perhaps he should be thinking about it before he reacted, but thinking never did him any good, so he leaned in, cupped her cheeks and kissed her. "If you need more payment, all you have to do is ask."

COMPLETED

#threads: titus aydin #titus && millie 04

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