#I won’t though… it will be satisfying enough to delete their numbers when I’m out of this city for good

[ruffgem]

one of my roommates just told me they read my comic… holy shit good thing I didn’t make it a thinly veiled story about how much I hate my roommates like I almost did

[whoreanghae]

please stay ; jeon wonwoo 

genre - fluff, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers

wordcount - 1.5k

disclaimers - lowercase is on purpose. fic under the cut ^^

a/n - this is my first, very simple but the wonwoo brainrot would not quit!

“im sick of your shit y/n, i really am.”

it seemed like all of the time spent with your boyfriend ended with an argument. dont get it wrong, you love him, but hes great at finding issues in every little thing you do. at first it was things like not texting him when you wake up in the mornings, or getting coffee with a friend from one of your classes, but recently he had thrown a tantrum over every move you made. the current argument at hand being the fact that he showed up at your apartment unexpected and you had only made enough dinner for yourself.

“i don’t understand what you expect from me!” you raised your voice, growing annoyed at his constant outbursts. “will there ever be anything i can do that will satisfy you?” he had an icy glare as he stepped towards you, while you were trying to act unbothered even though he had at least 6 inches of height on you.

“well maybe if you just did things right once in a while, i wouldn’t have to put you in your place so often.” there was a bitterness to his tone, and not an ounce of love to be heard. 

tears started to form at the corners of your eyes, but you wouldn’t dare let them escape. wouldn’t dare let him win. 

“i’m sure my ex wouldn’t have let it get this far. maybe i made the wrong decision all along.” 

he had a wry smile on his lips as he leaned against the wall, drinking in your shocked and hurt expression. he had always had this smug aura around him, but this was worse. this was cruelty. he was getting pleasure from your pain.

you tried to speak, but you weren’t able to form words. none that you wouldn’t regret anyways. “i… well if thats how you feel…” you looked down at your feet, hoping that if he doesn’t see the hurt painted on your face he won’t get the satisfaction he craves.

he laughed. “you know what? maybe i’ll call her. im sure you’d be just fine too, i’ve seen you with those singer fuckboys you think are your friends. you should call one of them, maybe you’ll be a better woman to them than you were to me!” he pulled out his phone and started typing something as he walked towards the door. 

“wait, ‘were’? what do you mean ‘were’?” you knew what was coming, but your brain didnt quite process it in the moment. 

he looked up from his phone, the same sick smile not leaving his lips the entire time. “god, you really are stupid, aren’t you?” he let out a laugh that felt like the twist of a knife. “we’re done, idiot! don’t bother calling me either, i already deleted your number.” he chuckled as he opened the door and disappeared without another word.

as your apartment door shut, everything hit you like a tidal wave. you crashed onto your sofa, sobbing into your hands and struggling to catch your breath. your entire world was in slow motion until a knock at your door brought you back to reality. you stood up, vision blurry from the tears, and walked over to the door. you opened it to be greeted with somehow the first, and last person you had wanted to find you in this state.

“oh my god y/n, what happened? are you okay?” wonwoo said, concern laced in his voice as he stepped towards you and put a hand on your arm to calm you. you tried to act like nothing was wrong, but everything was so fresh and wonwoos concern just made you unravel all over again.

you and wonwoo had been friends since you quite literally bumped into him whilst rushing around the city one day when you were running late to one of your classes. you had been speedwalking through the streets, rushing to get to your campus in time. you slept in, but you just had to stop at your usual coffee shop before class. being somewhat in your own world, you accidentally bumped shoulders with wonwoo and ended up spilling your fresh iced coffee all down the sleeve of his shirt. apologizing profusely, you quickly asked if you could send him money for the drycleaning, or just pay for a new shirt. he laughed the same laugh that would still sound like music to your ears months later. he assured you that it was fine, and even said that it was his fault. his one request was that you give him your number so that he could get you a replacement coffee sometime when you both were free. so you agreed. from then on, one coffee turned into two, which turned into three, which turned into movie nights and impromptu 2am drives when you can’t sleep. you never would’ve thought that your clumsiness would lead to meeting your best friend, but some would say it was fate.

you tried to tell wonwoo everything, but the only words that you could muster up between sobs were “he left me.” he stepped forward to give himself room to shut the door behind you two. wrapping an arm around your shoulders, he guided you towards the sofa. at this point he had entirely disregarded the reason he came to your apartment in the first place. you collapsed into wonwoos arms as you reached the sofa. he held you close as he whispered reassurances into your hair. 

just being in wonwoo’s presence helped to calm you down, so within 10 minutes you had been able to collect yourself and you were able to tell wonwoo the whole story. he was visibly angry, but tried to hold it in so he could comfort you and not stress you out further. after telling wonwoo everything that happened, you realized that you weren’t quite sure why he showed up in the first place. but its not like you were going to complain.

“i should’ve asked before, but what did you come here for anyways?” you said, quirking an eyebrow at him. he simply shrugged. “i came here before practice to grab the phone charger i left here on saturday, but i’m happy i came when i did.” the fond smile wonwoo had on his face made you feel like the only person on earth. 

“oh, you have practice?” you tried to mask the disappointment in your voice. you knew how important wonwoo’s job was, and you didn’t ever want to come in the way of that. but a part of you hoped he wouldn’t leave just yet.

“not anymore,” he said, looking down at his phone screen, “i just told the guys that something important came up. they’ll understand.” he smiled the same smile at you that he always did before. but this time it felt.. different? “unless you just want to be alone? i can leave if you want.” 

you looked at your hands for a moment before looking back up and meeting his gaze. “...please stay.”

that was all he needed to hear. wonwoo shrugged off his jacket and put it on the back of the sofa. you watched his actions intently. for some reason, the actions you had watched countless times before had started to stand out more than usual. the way he nudges his glasses up his nose, the way he runs his hand through his hair, why were these things so prominent to you now? you pushed these thoughts to the back of your head as you watched wonwoo open netflix on your tv. he scrolled through the options until reaching your favourite movie, the one you had made him watch with you too many times to count.

“wait, i thought you said you were sick of this movie?” you tilted your head towards him. he looked over at you, the same fond look you’ve been basking in since he showed up at your door. “but it reminds me of you, how could i ever get sick of it?” 

you playfully hit his arm and turned away to hide the rosy haze shading over your cheeks. he just smiled, knowing that he couldn’t see himself in any other position than he was right now. 

he put his arm out, inviting you to his side of the sofa. you obliged, scooting over to insert yourself under his arm and wrap around his side. he rested his arm around your hip as he quietly spoke. “listen, even if i have seen this movie thousands of times, i’ll be damned if i don’t see you smile at least once today.”

and he succeeded. you couldn’t do anything but smile as you sat snuggled into your best friends side, forgetting the earlier parts of the evening ever happened. soulmates were real, and you two were living proof. he was your soulmate, whether platonic or not.

[bonny-kookoo]

Good Girl [J.JK x Reader]🔞🌼

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, a lil angst

Warnings: dom/sub dynamics, dom!jungkook, sub!Reader, size kink, oral (f & m rec.), mild dd/lg themes, praise kink, cumplay, reader is a virgin, jungkook is lowkey a hoe, a lil heartbreak, Taehyung makes an appearance, long haired jungkook, mentions of harrassment, jungkook punches a guy, strength kink

Jeon Jungkook was known to have a specific type when it came to his partners; tall, gorgeous, dominant and older. It's not like he's a true blood baby boy; he's just too lazy to put any effort into his flings. When a new girl answers to his ad online searching for a roommate for his apartment to share rent and space however, he didn't quite expect such an innocent being to turn up at his doorstep with a box full of pastel colored belongings, ready to move in. And what he definitely didn't expect was his growing interest in her and the feeling of having her under him, all submissive and ready to be ruined.

Good Girl || Sweet Girl || Smart Girl || Brave Girl || Pretty Girl || Charming Girl || Enticing Girl || Bad Girl || ???

A wink was all he got from the woman who'd occupied his bed together with him last night as she walked out his bedroom door, seemingly knowing how to get out of his apartment. Jungkook ran his hand through his still sweaty hair, groaning after stretching his arms above his head, his mood seemingly sunkissed. He just finished an almost three hour sex-session after all; all without him providing any actual effort. His dick had seemed to be enough for her anyways, her face when she rode him happy, although he could really care less.

Reaching for his laptop near his bed, he didn't bother to put on any clothes for now, just wanting to check if he'd gotten any new E-Mails or messages, clicking through the casual nudes that constantly seemed to slip into his postbox. He cocked his head to the side however when he noticed that a website has notified him of an answer to his ad online; he'd put it up some time ago now after Taehyung, his former roommate, had to move out simply because Jungkook himself couldn't survive the older one's sleep shedule. Tae seemed to never sleep, waking the younger one up on a daily (and nightly) basis. He really tried to get along with him, both of them sharing a deep friendship, but god no, as a roommate he couldn't stand that guy. His rent however was something he struggled as well, so as much as he really wanted to live alone, he couldn't. He clicked the message on the website, his interest peaked.

"Hello. Is this AD still up to date? My name is Y/N, and I'm searching for a place because I'm starting to work close by soon, and its too expensive to take the bus for hours on end every day.. so uh, I don't know? I'm really good at cooking, and I promise I'll be so quiet and organized you won't even notice I'm there! I work at a restaurant nearby as a waitress- I mean, I'm going to, haha. Ugh, I hope you're okay sharing your apartment with a girl as well, I for my part don't have a problem with that! So, I guess, I'll wait for your reply?

Have a nice day!"

He scoffed a little, hovering over the delete button, but instead, he clicked her profile icon, opening the details. Her profile picture showed a white big dog, being hugged by what he assumed was her. He couldn't see her face however, half of her face above her nose cropped out to fit the entire dog instead. He could spot her clothes however; a top and skirt, flat shoes and sheer tights with white spots on them. His brows furrowed, how old was she? Her profile said she was about a year younger than him, every post she'd made up to this date about pet stuff, clothes who all seemed to follow a pastel-color scheme, and artwork you seemed to be selling. You were basically the definition of cute.

Fan-fucking-tastic. Hopefully you wouldn't be too upset when he denied your request, but somehow he thought it over. You said you could cook and you did seem like an organized person. Knowing what kind of effect he could have on people, he could probably scare the shit out of you and keep you around without really having to interact much; and rent was also due this month, so the sooner he found a roommate the better. "Fuck it." He said, and began to type his reply.

When his doorbell rang, he almost burned his hand with the hot water he currently used to make himself a cup of ramen, cursing loudly. Who the fuck wasn't home again so he had to take their package in? One day the old lady across the hall would find a dead rat or something in front of her door, he swore to himself. Ripping the door open with so much force he could feel a bit of wind gushing by, his eyes widened when he saw a similar face in front of him- well, a little below actually. He remembered your lips instantly for some awkward reason, having tried to maybe paint a picture of what you looked like entirely over the last few days. He would've never expected something like this however- you looked like a literal doll in his opinion, your eyes wide open and mouth a little parted, shiny lipgloss making him swallow. Wait, did he really forget that you said you wanted to move in today?!

"I uh.. I'm- I'm Y/N, we- I- the ad..?" You said, your voice sounding nothing like the woman he usually was around. He smirked a little, moving so you could step inside, food now definitely forgotten on the kitchen counter. He really should've at least cleaned up a little he thought. Whatever.

"Yeah, figured. There you go, thats your room. The keys and shit are on the matress, make sure you don't loose 'em." He simply said, before leaving you alone in your new home to settle down.

"What I'm trying to say is, Y/N, you and I, this could really be something!" Taehyung slurred into your ear, loud enough for Jungkook to hear. For some reason it pissed him off to no ends how close the older one seemed to be, constantly hitting on you like he was a starving man, even know half of town knew very well that he wasn't. He could see why; you were innocent, and Tae known to fool around a lot. You were a challenge, something new for him, and he would lie if he said that he wasn't interested as well. Oh he was; but he also had at least some manners left inside of him, contrary to popular belief not only thinking with his dick. Taehyung however was only out for fun, making Jungkook question if he should really let this continue.

He decided no.

"Alright you fucking whore, it's bedtime isn't it? I'll call you a cab." Taehyung groaned at the younger one's words, nodded his head however before looking at you with a smirk.

"Ah, what a shame. But if you wanna have some fun you know my number!" He said, as if he didn't just offer you sex. You blushed at this, not answering, making Jungkook watch you a bit. You really were something else. "Jungkookie, you're so nicee... If I was gay I would definitely suck your dick-" The younger in question made a disgusted yet amused face, putting a hand over the blue haired one's mouth.

"Yeah yeah, you pay me back though you fucker." He said, before going into the kitchen to make the call. Taehyung, being left alone with you again started with his questioning, as he had done the entire night.

"So, Y/N.." He said, dragging out the last syllable of your name playfully, making you shuffle around where you were sitting a bit. He certainly was a pretty attractive guy, but he also seemed to be very straightforward- something you always had struggled with, being more on the shy side. You looked at him, silently urging him to continue before taking a sip of your own beer- cherry flavored, simply because the regular was too bitter in your opinion. "What kind of toys do you use, heh?" He questioned, and you coughed suddenly. Taehyung laughed loudly at that, cooing when you calmed down slowly.

"Taehyung, stop harassing my roommate you fucking idiot. I need her to pay half of the rent-" He said, before sitting down next to you, raising one of his eyebrows at you. "And she also makes some killer lasagna. Kinda wanna keep that." He said, before laughing a bit. Even though Jungkook seemed to be pretty intimidating to you, he was actually a pretty good guy to have around. You both barely ever fought, and overall you could almost see yourself falling for him too- he had the looks after all. But his habit of bringing people over just to satisfy himself was something that made you keep some distance between you both. He wasn't someone to settle down- let alone with someone like you. You were pretty much the exact opposite of what he seemed to like.

Sending Tae home was easier than you both thought. Not being able to go to bed you both decided to watch some late night shows while casually talking- something that wasn't uncommon between you two. Just when you seemed to have gotten comfortable again, Jungkook couldn't help but tease you again.

"So, what Toys do you use, heh?" He said, laughing with his head thrown back afterwards at your red face. This would certainly never get old in his opinion. Just as he was about to apologize and tell you you didn't have to answer, your voice was heard, however.

"None." You said, and his eyes widened at that. "What? Do I look like I do these things to you?" You asked, and he cocked his head to the side a bit, scanning you obviously. He shrugged, and you began to pout, moving to wrap your pastel pink blanket around yourself. "I don't even know how to buy one. That stuff is just.. don't know. Gross." You said, and Jungkook turned on the couch, body facing you now, his interest sparked.

"Gross? So you never had sex before?" He said, and you went silent. Were you serious right now? You were an angel in his eyes, body proportions almost perfect, hell, even your slight imperfections were adorable in his eyes. Up until now he had been sure that you at least have had your fair share of experience, but a virgin? His world was suddenly turned upside down. "Well.. that's something I didn't expect." He said, making you raise your eyebrows at him. "You're hot. Thats why. Oh well." He said, missing the way your eyes widened at that. "I'm gonna go to bed now. Goodnight." He simply said, and you answered with a short 'goodnight' as well- still a bit surprised by his statement. Jungkook thought.. you were attractive?

He'd somehow gotten used to you, how you would leave your pastel pink but admittedly really soft blanket in a pile on one edge of the couch in the living room, how you sometimes left your toothbrush in the sink when you'd been in a hurry, or how you would hum to a song, not knowing he could hear you very clearly. Maybe he really did go soft after living with you for a while. He still didn't know himself why he got so upset with Taehyung the day prior; was he really being selfish? He was protecting you, nothing more. Taehyung was everything but a gentle lover, jungkook just knew he'd break you for sure, not to mention that you already stated how much you despised one night stands, which were practically Taehyungs speciality. He was just looking after you, nothing more.

The more he thought about it however, the more problematic the entire plan became.

But even now, while the young woman whose name he had already forgotten was giving it her all sucking his dick, all that seemed to swim around in his head were the events of the previous evening; how innocent and embarrassed you looked at him when you told him you'd never bought, let alone use a toy before. Surely you'd be someone to enjoy a good vibrator he thought, maybe as a gag he could buy you one? Oh how enchanting you'd look, spread out on his mattress while he would edge you over and over until you'd be crying, begging for his mercy. He would praise you for taking it so well, for being so good for him and only him, and he just knew you would blush. Instead of rushing to his own satisfaction, he would go slow, agonizingly slow, just to see how far he could push you. He would feast on you like a predator on his prey, pull you close so you had no chance of escaping him, he would trace every curve of your skin, gently, as if to make up for the bruises and Mark's he would surely leave all over you to feed his inner need to claim you, even though he would never let anyone see you like this while he was alive and breathing anyways. He just knew you would fit perfectly underneath him, his body covering you and shielding you away from the world around. Would you be able to take all of him? He probably would have to stretch you real good before even thinking about pushing his dick inside you, yet he just knows you would somehow make him proud and take it all, and he would continue his praises, telling you what a good girl you are.

He almost laughed at the situation, he really was in deep, wasn't he? Frustrated and confused he started to picture someone else entirely kneeled between his legs on the floor, how you'd bat your eyelashes at him like the fucking angel you were instead of the girl currently there, and that thought alone gave him the final push to shoot his load down the strangers throat, who moaned obscenely at the feeling. Usually he would be aroused, ready for more, but the sound of someone who wasn't his little roommate ripped him out of his daydream. This couldn't go on like that. Sending the lady out without many words, he decided that he just needed to fuck you, and all would be good again. He was just curious. Nothing else. He just needed to satiate his hunger and he could go back to normal.

How would he be able to do this without ending up hurting you? No matter how big his hunger for you was, he also considered you somewhat of a friend. He remembered when you came home crying one time after a bad day at work, and how he wanted to hold you, shielding you from any harm, making you feel safe. Because that's what he, and only he could do in his opinion. No matter what, he'd protect you, as weird as that sounded. Shit.

He really had a crush on you.

Unknowing to him you always held your hands over your ears whenever he brought home a different girl, not being able to listen to his moans mixed with someone else's. You were slowly beginning to regret moving in, already starting to think about maybe searching for a different apartment. But the rent was cheap, your room big, and his company relaxing when he wasn't busy being buried in someone he couldn't even remember after a day or two. Somehow tears were leaking out of your eyes, and you took your hands down from the sides of your head to wipe them away, careful to be as silent as possible as to not alert him that you were awake, well aware of the shower turning on. You did notice however how his sessions became shorter and shorter, always seeming to end sudden instead of usual. But the more you thought of it, the more angry at yourself for falling for this manwhore you became. You really should hate him- but you couldn't.

Tonight was definetely the prime example of why you didn't go into clubs. The sheer amount of people around you, the smell of sweat and cheap cologne and perfume all around made you feel like a headache was inevitable. Why were you here again? Oh yes. You followed Taehyungs advice and 'tried to make friends' instad of looming around your apartment all day. But right now you just really wished you stayed home instead of going here.

Sure, you liked your coworkers, and they seemed nice and everything, but if you were being honest, they're definition of fun was entirely not yours. You began to feel cramped up in the large club, making you desperately pull your phone out of your pocket, texting Jungkook in hopes he could save you from this god forsaken torment they called a club.

  Minutes later, after Jungkook oh so gentlemanly told you to pick you up, you stood in front of that said location, waiting for his cheap but admittedly nice car to pull up. Sadly, someone else seemed to be way more intent on bringing you home- a young man your age, attractive, yes, but also heavily intoxicated. He had already eyed you up inside the building you noticed, yet hadn't made a move towards you. Now however, he seemed more determined than ever.

"Lets go home baby, I swear you won't regret-" He started, but you moved away from him, clenching onto your little handbag in order to at least keep your belongings safe if he tried anything else. Suddenly both your figures were drowned in the warm light of Jungkook's car lights- you immediately recognized them simply by the fact that one was brighter than the other, something you always told him, yet he always waved you off, telling you that both were doing just fine, even though his left light was clearly almost dead. Typical him, you thought. Yet right now, you couldn't be happier to see him.

He however, did not seem happy at all. His face was serious, his wavy hair hanging a little over his eyes, steps fast and strong enough that you could hear his black boots almost crush the slight gravel of the parking lot. "Fuck off sunnyboy and go back inside." He simply yelled out, having already seen how uncomfortable you were with the stranger so close to you. Jungkook wasn't someone to blindly punch someone, that said however, he couldn't contain himself once he saw the guy reaching out for your arm, your figure instinctively scrambling to get behind Jungkooks way larger body. He didn't even notice his fist connecting with the strangers face, simply leading you by the small of your back inside his car, driving home without any more words.

You were not to be touched by someone so dirty like this young man who didn't even knew his own limits it seemed.

Yet you were completely confused now. Maybe, if you were now the reason he got into physical fights, you should make a decision.

The next morning, sitting down at the kitchen table, you watched Jungkook filling your bowl with cereal as well- lucky charms for you, and chocolate chips for him. It became somewhat of a routine since you both woke up roughly around the same time, sharing breakfast was common. The best moment in your opinion to pop the bomb.

"I'm moving out." You said softly, fiddling with your fingers in your lap, leg nervously bouncing up and down. Why did this feel like you were breaking up with him? You both would've ended up going separate ways sooner or later anyways- so he would probably just nod, ask when, and that would be it. He was someone who didn't bother much. But the second you said it, he turned around completely shocked, suddenly very much awake.

"Why? Did I do something?" He asked, sounding genuinely offended for some reason you couldn't come up with. In his mind, scenario over scenario started to play, as if he wanted to search for something he may have said or done to make you so upset that you didn't want to live with him anymore. He knew he shouldn't be so upset over it, since you and him were merely roommates, friends who shared an apartment, nothing more, but he never really expected you to come up with it so sudden. Or maybe you had a boyfriend? What if it was Taehyung, and you just didn't tell him? He would rip that fucker's stupid blue hair out, he knew-

"No. I- not reall-" You sighed, setting your elbows on the kitchen table before letting your head fall into your hands. "Actually yes, you did." You started, looking at him, but unable to hold eye contact with the now completely confused curly haired boy in front of you. "You.. uh.. I cant sleep. Your, 'guests', the walls aren't really soundproof and like, I really- and just.. ugh this is so awkward, please don't make me say it-" You said, groaning the rest of your sentence before stubbornly shoving your back against the chair, throwing your legs back and forth viciously, reminding Jungkook of a kid who was close to throwing a tantrum. Even though this was definitely not the time to think about you laid out over his leg, his hand hitting your perfectly shaped butt until it was red just to punish you for being such a brat, exactly this picture began to form in the back of his head. He hated himself somehow, really. But somehow instead of accepting your decision, he moved to stand at the table, hands on top of it, eyes searching yours.

"Say it Y/N. You know I hate when I have to pull thing out your throat sweetheart." He didn't intend on using the nickname, but somehow he threw his hesitation out the window. If you really were fooling around with someone, someone who wasn't him he wanted to know- and even if you didn't share that information with him, you would move out anyways, so why hold back anymore? You shook your head at him, avoiding his gaze, and he clicked his tongue, patience slowly thinning out. "Spit it out." He said again, but he still got no reaction. His hand seemed to move without his consent when he suddenly found his fingers on your chin, moving your head to force your attention towards him. "Speak the fuck up, I swear to god." He said, voice dropping down lower, and somehow you seemed as if bewitched.

Maybe it was the way he stood there, how he still held your chin, or how intensely he looked at you, but words dropped out of your mouth as if you drank harry potters truth potion. "I cant stand that you let these girls touch you, that they can get you so easily and you just look past me a- and I really tried you know, because Taehyung said you liked mature girls more so I tried to do that, but he lied to me, you don't notice me at all, you're so mean you-" He shut your mouth with his mouth, trying to process the information he just received, yet it seemed like it was too much at once. You were.. jealous? And what kind of stupid advice was Taehyung giving away, that fucker? It was true that he liked his women to be confident and mature, but that was just so they knew what they were doing, and he didn't need to put so much effort into something he could get so easily.

"So you were jealous?" He said, a small smirk creeping up on him, cooing at you internally when you shook your head, face red. "If you wanted me to fuck you, you could've just asked. Geez." He said, but instead of being relieved, your shoulders sagged down. "What?" He asked, and you mumbled to him.

"Because I don't want just that one time stuff you do." Jungkook looked at you, eyes softening at your somehow-confession. He just put together the pieces in his head, and it did make sense. You were practically attached to him wherever he took you, always seemingly glowing whenever his attention was on you. He was as much as a dense head than you were, and he couldn't help but pull out a chair and sitting down, patting his legs as an invitation.

"Good, because I don't want that either. And I don't share either." He said, and looked at you gently, but with a deep darkness behind his eyes. "Trust me baby, you can sit down now and I promise you'll be the only one to have me- or you can move out and go on with your life." He almost laughed at the way it suddenly clicked in your head on what he was offering, suddenly jumping up and sitting on his thighs, legs on either side of his body. He looked down at you, a divine picture coming to life. His hands were placed on the exposed skin under your skirt, slowly sliding over the soft skin until his fingers felt the seam of your tights- those goddamn things he'd wanted to rip off of you so badly these past days. "You can touch me, you know?" He said lowly, and you noticed how awkward you must've looked for a second, seated on his lap with your hands in front of you, unsure where to put them. Just to ground yourself, your fingers began to play with his shirt, and he had to swallow the laugh that wanted to break free. "You don't have to do this, you know? I'm fine with waiting-" He began, but you immediately shook your head, however, at loss for words. He smiled again, dangerously so you noticed. His head dipped down, finally touching your skin on your neck with his lips, leaving open mouthed kisses under your earlobe down to the crook, hands moving over your clothes already mapping out your body in his mind, one hand pulling down one side of your soft fleece jacket you wore, pulling down your shirt as well, so he could softly nip at your shoulder, making you gasp oh so cutely at his actions. His hands didn't stop however, moving over your chest, kneading both of your breasts softly, as if he would hurt you if he used too much strength- which was probably the case. He already loved how bis his hands looked running over your body, how your hands held his shirt in fists, eyes closed, yet not because of fear; you looked serene to him, face showing him the soft pleasure you felt. He suddenly moved you a little, making you straddle one of his leg, core pushed against his thigh. "Let's start slow, yeah?" He asked, whispering words into your ear, lips never parting from you. He slowly began to move your hips, urging you to simply follow what you thought felt best to you. "Use me baby. Get off on my thigh." You whined at that, slowly starting to move more and more boldly, and he decided that he was officially a goner. Even if you didn't want him after whatever may be happening, he knew he could never go back. The way you squeezed your eyes shut every now and then, moving back and forth yet always a bit helpless, showing how inexperienced you were. He could feel the wet patch forming on his jeans, his hands moving you a bit faster, before you let your head fall onto his shoulder, making him chuckle. "What is it baby? Do you need help, hm?" He said, a bit mockingly even, and you nodded into his shoulder. "Tell me what you need then. What do you want, princess?" He said, running his hands over your back, feeling your bodyheat through your clothes.

"wanna get the same.. as the others.." You mumbled, unsure what you were even asking for. Jungkook however simply smiled, suddenly lifting you up, hands under your behind carrying you to his room, before finally letting you fall onto his mattress, laughing when your body jumped a little, making you squeak so cutely. He smiled, crawling over you, his fantasy finally coming to life- you looked so lost under him, so utterly defenseless he could swear he could feel something primal awake inside him- and that was not his dick, which already strained against his jeans, impatient.

"Ah but Baby.." He began, taking off your soft jacket before his hands traced your bare arms until he moved them under your shirt, feeling your skin underneath his fingers. "You're my special girl.." He began to lift your shirt up, helping you out of it before he got rid of your skirt as well, chuckling at your cute lacey underwear, which was so typically you. So innocent, yet so arousing, how you squirmed underneath him in nothing but those pastel colored undergarments. "And special girls get special treatments.." His words were low, soft spoken yet with a rough edge to his tone, a natural feature of his voice that you've come to love. You couldn't even begin to paint out a picture of what he was talking about- sure, you have seen your fair share of adult films, you weren't a kid after all- but up until this moment, up until you met Jungkook, you've never really thought about what you could like when it came to these things. Even in your thoughts you felt shy saying any profanities out loud, how could you expect to know about kinks? "But only if you can behave for me, but you can do that right?" He said, unhooking your bra behind your back with ease and interrupting your inner talk with yourself. "You'll be my good girl, yeah?" He said, and you just viciously nodded, already growing frustrated, and oh how he loved it. This was how he had pictured you. If he had known before that this was what it felt like to have control over someone, he would've never done anything else if he was honest; but then again, you really were a special girl to him. The way you suddenly mewled when his hand cupped your heat, giving you a little pressure just to tease you even further almost caught him off guard. God have mercy on his soul, you were so sensitive to him, and it dawned on him again that he was making you this way. He was the first to- and he would make sure he'd be the only one as well. All those noises tumbling out of between your lips were only his to hear. His breathing peaked up at the view he had, how you began to impatiently rut into his hand, needy for more than he was giving you. He leaned back, finally getting rid of his own clothes as well to your satisfaction, lazily throwing his opened flannel as well as his white shirt somewhere on the floor in his room, and you couldn't help but stare. Truth be told, you didn't really know what to expect of him if you were honest, his constant gym visits giving you the impression that he had to be extremely fit, yet his habit of consuming more than two cups of ramen easily spoke differently. He was, in your eyes, the perfect in-between- he definetely was fit, his abs visible to your eyes, yet he didn't look like those over-achievers you sometimes saw walking around the same gym whenever you met him there to go home together. The way his muscles flexed at every move when he loomed over you again made you want to touch him, yet your shy side forbade you. He chuckled again. "You can touch what's yours all you want, you know?" He said, before he began to place his hand back onto your chest, his breath hot on your collarbone where he placed his kisses again, already hooked on your taste. His other, tattooed hand found its way back to your core, feeling the dampness there with amusement. You were more than what he'd imagined. Slowly he got rid of that barrier however, leaving your tights on for his own pleasure and maybe also for the aesthetic of it, his digits circling around your sensitive bud, making you squeal again, putting your hands over your mouth to keep your voice down. He clicked his tongue at this, moving them to lay right under the small of your back. "Be good and keep them there, yeah?" He said, and you looked away.

"But its- thats emb-" You couldn't even finish the beginning of your rant before he went back to his task at hand, sitting back before moving your legs to spread obscenely over his thighs simply to catch a glimpse of your glistening center, before he placed his body over yours again, hand now roughly circling in delicious eights around your clit, making you gasp out.

"Nothing you do is embarrassing, you hear me. If anything its fucking hot how you can be so fucking adorable even with my hand between your legs, doll." He said, before dipping a finger into you, making you move a bit at the foreign feeling. "Gotta stretch you out babygirl.." He said lowly, careful not to get too fast. His second finger joined in, and he could feel how tight you were around them, already clenching a bit as well, making his mouth water, but also growing a bit of worry in the back of his mind. Usually he was quite cocky about his overly average qualities down in his pants, but now he was genuinely concerned to hurt you with it. This was definitely a first for him. "Baby you're so small.. I don't think you can take it.." He said, a bit of a teasing undertone to his words as well. "See? You're already squeezing my fingers so hard princess, how could my dick ever fit inside huh?" He said, contrary to his otherwise rough nature keeping his movements gentle and slow enough for you to adjust without causing much pain. He could see the slight discomfort in your eyes, yet you suddenly shook your head, voice whiny.

"Uh-uh.." You mumbled, and he laughed a bit at that. "can take it.." You said bratty as ever, feeding his ego to no ends. "Wanna have it- you.. you gon' give it right? 'm good.." You said, having troubles keeping your hands under your back just like he told you to, grabbing the sheets underneath you instead to have something to keep yourself grounded.

Jungkook couldn't stop smiling. You didn't even know what you were asking for, yet you seemed so drowned in trust with him, that you simply gave him the right to do anything he wanted with you. "You sure?" He said, and smiled at the way you nodded again with your eyes closed. He moved away after that, shedding his pants before he walked over to his bedside table, fishing out a condom, before moving back to you, your eyes now on him, or more than that, on his very apparent bulge his boxers failed to conceal. Maybe you really did ask for more than you could take. Quite literally. Sensing your growing uneasiness he simply discarded his underwear, cock finally springing free, slapping soundlessly against his abdomen before he sat between your legs again. You made grabby hands for the foil package in his hands, somehow wanting to slip it onto him, yet he shook his head amused. "Nuh-uh baby. I'm afraid if you touch me right now I'll just embarrass myself and come straight away." He said, and you giggled at that. The sound of it brought him back at ease, his little joke having helped to calm you down at least a little bit. He knew this was a big thing, especially for someone like you- and it made him feel even a bit pressured if he was honest. He was slow when he dipped his head inside, your body instinctively trying to move away a bit, but you forced yourself to stay still, eyes now pressed close. Moving around a bit he kept one hand around the base of himself, the other steadying himself next to your shoulder, kissing you on your lips for the first time since you both started, surprising you enough to not notice how he somehow began to glide into you with the help of your arousal and the lubricant of the condom around him. He groaned, the first actual noise he'd made you could tie to his pleasure, and your breathing picked up once you noticed how full you felt. Gasping several times he suddenly started to laugh, making you giggle as well, even though you didn't knew what was so funny in that situation. "God- ugh.. your- fuck you're tight.." He pressed out, fighting hard against his hips' own mind yelling at him to move, to wreck you, to utterly ruin you. But he couldn't allow himself to do that- reassuring himself that he would have time for that at a later date. He slowly started to move around after he calmed down enough, keeping his speed down to keep it gentle for you. "I- fuck.." He started, having to talk to stretch his patience out, and to also ease your mild pain a little bit. "Let's- ugh.. Let's go on a date tomorrow, yeah? I.. god-" He said, and you nodded, moaning in your delicate pitch he oh so loved. "Gonna be all romantic and shit- fuck- gonna treat you like- for Mcdonald's or some shit." He said, making you both laugh between gasps of pleasure, your hands suddenly frantically moving around the sheets, legs shaking as he began to speed up his pace. You didn't knew what an orgasm would feel like, or how you knew you would have one, but you gasped, chocking on unshed tears in frustration as you noticed that you couldn't tumble over that delicious edge, and Jungkook noticed, cooing at you. "Ah, my baby can't come without her little clit being touched?" He said, kissing the side of your neck, biting the skin teasingly before sucking a hickey on your collarbone, his hands now grabbing yours, fingers intertwining with his, before moving them around his neck, sensing how you wanted to be closer to him, even though that hardly seemed possible. "Come for me baby, you can do it." He said, kissing your shoulder as if to make up for his mark he'd left, his hand now reaching between your bodies, only needing to put a bit of pressure on your little nub to send you flying. You moaned out loud, uncaring on how you sounded, clinging onto him for dear life, his own release making him groan out as well.

He could feel your body trembling, your breathing still fast. He waited for a moment or two for himself to soften up so he could pull out gently- your still slightly clenching hole almost pushing his dick out of yourself. You whined at the empty feeling, and he hushed you gently, moving around so he was sitting up against his headboard, your body on his lap, head on his shoulder. His hand moved back and forth over your spine, the other keeping your body steadily against him. "You did so, so good baby." He gently whispered between your breaths still coming out a little faster than they should. "To be honest I actually was kind of worried you wouldn't be able to take it. I'm impressed princess." He said, making you giggle. You still weren't quite back yet, still bathing in your own afterglow, and he simply waited for you to calm down- slowly becoming aware of your surroundings again.

"Hey, Jungkookie.." You started with that nickname Taehyung always teased him with, yet you would get away with it anytime on his watch. He simply moved his head to look at you, even if you weren't at him. "Did you.. like, mean it? Are we.. a couple now, or?" You started a bit too softly, yet you didn't have to be scared of his answer to that.

He took a deep breath, before yawning a bit. "If you want us to be. I know I want to." He started, brushing some hair away from your eyes. You looked at him, big eyes so innocent like he didn't just fuck you into his mattress literally minutes ago.

"I want to!" You immediately said, making him chuckle and place a kiss on your nose, receiving a giggle at that, before you tensed up. He raised his eyebrows at that, before you looked at him surprised. "My legs are all- tingly.. Jungkook did you break me- HEY don't laugh!" You said, but he couldn't help himself.

He threw his head back, laughing his admittedly cute open laugh, before wrapping his arms around your body. "God I love you." He simply said, making you smile.

"Hey Jungkookie?" You said after a bit.

"Yeah Princess?" He answered.

"That McDonald's date still stands, right?" You said with a small voice, making him snort.

"Anything you want princess. Anything you want."

Taglist:

@mrcleanheichou @sugasbratz @sassysaxsolo @bananagukkie @wh3resangel @urmomgee

[miserablesme]

The Les Miserables Changelog Part 1: Barbican Previews

Hello everyone! I'm starting out a blog which will look at my favorite musical, Les Miserables, and will discuss the various changes it has gone through over time (musically and lyrically). As it turns out, a LOT of edits have been made over the years so this will doubtless be a series with several parts.

This first part may well be the most difficult and will almost certainly be the most incomplete, as previews can be a time of extensive editing and experimentation. At least for the first few weeks or so, it's perfectly possible any one day of previews will be slightly different than any other day. However, I only have access to two audios from the Barbican Theatre previews of Les Miserables, meaning it's likely that lyrical variants exist which I have no way of hearing.

I am aware of the existence of a third audio which is fairly early in the run of previews, as the tape's master has told me that Gavroche's death scene is in its original form (I'll clarify that later). However, that tape has never been traded, and has sadly only been listened to by its master. I am also aware of a video proshot of the Barbican era that exists in the Royal Shakespeare Company library, but currently have no access to it. I plan to inquire about whether I can look at it sometime (though I'm not sure a blog like this is "official" enough to warrant it for research purposes). As such, this comparison only entails the two widely circulated audios from the Barbican run.

Now that we've gotten that cleared up, let's get started!

First, let's look at the opening "Work Song". In the earlier recording I have (let's call it R1), the beginning music (the same tune used, for instance, at the opening of "At the End of the Day" and "One Day More" and for Marius and Cosette's meeting in "The Robbery") stops. Then, a few moments later, the more familiar opening that leads directly into the prologue begins. By the time of the later recording I have (let's call it R2), the scores have been combined so that the first tune directly transitions into the second one.

Meanwhile, in R1 there is a sequence of lines that goes as follows:

I've done no wrong

Sweet Jesus, hear my prayer

Look down, look down

Sweet Jesus doesn't care

I killed a man

He tried to steal my wife

Look down, look down

She wasn't worth your life

I know she'll wait

I know that she'll be true

Look down, look down

She's long forgotten you

Most fans of the musical recognize the middle sequence of lines ("I killed a man" through "She wasn't worth your life") as no longer being lines in the show (for good reason, as we'll get into in a later edition of this blog). However, R2 keeps the lines. Instead, it deletes the third sequence ("I know she'll wait" through "She's long forgotten you"). I have no idea if this lasted only a few performances or made it all the way to the end of the Barbican run, or somewhere in between.

During "On Parole", specifically after Valjean is underpaid for his labor and sings about his frustration, R1 uses a variation of the "Work Song" theme which, to my recollection, is heard nowhere else in the musical. It can be heard here. By R2, it was switched to an in-tune version of the number with a unique opening. The musical retains that version to this day, but in case you can't recall it you can hear it here.

Minus an unintentional line flub in "At the End of the Day" in R2, the two Barbican recordings seem to use the same libretto and score from this point until "The Runaway Cart". At this point, R1 has a rather extensive scene leading up to Valjean saving Fauchelevent, which goes approximately as follows (the dialog is difficult to make out):

(VALJEAN)

Is there anyone here who will rescue the man?

Who will help me to shoulder the weight of the cart?

I will pay any man thirty louis d’or more

I will do it myself if there’s no one who will

We can’t let him die like that down in the street

Can you all watch him die and do nothing at all?

(FAUCHELEVENT)

Don’t approach me, Monsieur Mayor

The cart’s not gonna be holding

Not my poor mother would care if I should die

(TOWNSPEOPLE)

Don't go near him, Monsieur Mayor

There's nothing at all you can do

The old man's a goner for sure

Leave him alone

Most of that dialog is deleted in R2, so that it goes directly from "Who will help me to shoulder the weight of the cart" to "Don't go near him, Monsieur Mayor". I really like the idea of the original version; it seems reasonable that Valjean, having become a more trusted man, would expect the townspeople to help him. It's more meaningful that Valjean is good enough to do what's right when there's more time to establish that no one else is. Having said that, the original version did take quite a while and didn't really contain any relevant information that wasn't in the final version. I think the cut version as heard in R2 is a good compromise and retains the general mood and pacing to make Valjean's ultimate action satisfying (something that can't be said of later cuts, as will be discussed in a future edition of this blog).

Additionally, at the end of the number Javert refers to "the mark upon his skin" in R1 and "the brand upon his skin in R2 (as well as literally every subsequent performance since then to my knowledge). I have no idea if the "mark" line was a minor flub or was actually the original lyric.

"Who Am I?" is an interesting one. The musical content is identical in R1 and R2, but in R1 after his high note, Valjean shouts "You know where to find me!" with emotion so dramatic it sits right on the border between awesome and campy. By contrast, Valjean is totally silent after his high note in R2. Neither version would see its final day just yet, although the latter certainly has become more traditional over time. More on that in future editions.

From this point until "Master of the House" everything is the same between the two recordings. Roger Allam even comes in slightly late in both "Confrontation" scenes (making his line "-jean, at last...")! However, in the opening to "Master of the House" the following lines occur in R1:

(THENARDIER)

My band of soaks, my den of dissolutes

My dirty jokes, my always pissed as newts

My sons of whores

Spend their lives in my inn

Homing pigeons flying in

They fly through my doors

And their money's good as yours

(CUSTOMERS)

Ain't got a clue what he put into his stew

Must've scraped it off the street

Hell, what a wine

Châteauneuf de Turpentine

Must've pressed it with his feet

Landlord over here

Where's the bloody man

One more for the road

One more slug of gin

Just one more or my old man is gonna do me in

All of those lines would be scrapped in R2. Personally I prefer this shortened variant than the one that would occur much later. Sure, some fun moments get lost, but nothing that actually adds any substance or characterization to the musical (unlike the later cut, which I'll discuss in a later edition of this blog). Some have speculated that this is simply lost dialog due to a tape flip of degrading, given that future performances would retain those lines. However, there is firsthand confirmation that the cuts were in fact part of the performance. To quote Trevor Nunn on page 87 of 1990's The Complete Book of Les Miserables (a page which elaborates that "the cost of overtime incurred after three hours could be crippling at a time when Les Miserables was still trying to find an audience"):

"Cameron wanted major cuts, which would have reduced its length to two and a half hours. I resisted, refusing to discuss things on those terms... Some of the other proposed cuts - like the removal of the "Master of the House" scene-setting preamble - were tried out in previews and then restored as the scenes would not work without them."

From a historical perspective that quote is invaluable. As will be brought up in a later blog post (notice a pattern today?) the musical would in fact be cut much later to avoid overtime charges. When people like myself have expressed the opinion that these cuts come at the expense of artistic integrity, I've seen others defend them by claiming that the overtime costs never were relevant to Cameron and the gang until Broadway sales began to go down, and that if they were taken into account the musical may well be in its shortened form from the beginning. However, this quote proves that argument to be false. Right from day one, the crew was aware that retaining a >3 hour runtime would come with severe financial costs, but this was deemed a worthy sacrifice in order to tell the story they wanted told. Indeed, it sounds like Cameron Mackintosh was waiting quite some time to enact his infamous cuts! (Cameron Mackintosh valuing profit above art?! Crazy, right??)

But I digress. Going back to the musical, the "Waltz of Treachery" number is mostly the same. However, after Valjean's "It won't take you too long to forget" line, R1 has over a minute of wordless vamping which leads right into the rather awkwardly-placed "Stars" song. By contrast, in R2 this vamping (which is still a minute long, mind you) leads into a humming duet between Little Cosette and Valjean, similar to the duet right before the number. A nice little bookend that makes the scene feel all the more resolved. (Much later this duet reprise would ironically be scrapped again, though!) The remaining segment of R1's vamping now plays after this sequence in R2.

Minus some unintentional missed lines at the beginning of "Stars" in R1, the recordings seem to follow the same libretto right up until "One Day More". Here, R1 uses the following lines:

(EPONINE)

One more day with him not caring

(MARIUS and COSETTE)

Was there ever love so true?

(EPONINE)

What a life I might have known

(MARIUS and COSETTE)

I was born to be with you

However, by R2 this scene is in its current form:

(EPONINE)

One more day with him not caring

(MARIUS and COSETTE)

I was born to be with you

(EPONINE)

What a life I might have known

(MARIUS and COSETTE)

And I swear I will be true

And that closes act one! Going on to the second act, the opening barricade scene has a few changes. First off, following the opening notes, R1 features a rather odd tune bearing resemblance to "Do You Hear the People Sing" (which can be heard here) before transitioning to a more true-to-form instrumental reprise of "Do You Hear the People Sing?" By contrast, R2 goes straight from the opening notes to the true-to-form reprise.

Next, Enjolras proclaims "Have faith in yourself and do not be afraid" in R1, while in R2 he instead states "Every man to his duty and don't be afraid". It's unknown if this was an intentional libretto change or if it simply reflects a flub during R1. A later sequence uses the "Have faith in yourself" line, meaning he may have just sung the wrong line for that particular scene.

Finally, R1 includes the following sequence (at least I think this is how it goes, since the lyrics are a little hard to hear):

(PROUVAIRE)

And the people will fight

(GRANTAIRE)

And join with you

Who gives a speech in the square

Fortunately, R2 uses a much less clunky (though still somewhat so) sequence:

(PROUVAIRE)

And the people will fight

(GRANTAIRE)

And so they might

Some will bark, some will bite

This isn't quite its current form ("dogs" and "fleas" will soon respectively replace the two usages of "some"), but it's pretty darn close.

I've heard that the very first Barbican preview(s?) didn't have a finalized opening to "On My Own". Sadly there is no known audio record of this, so I cannot comment on what exactly it began as. As such, the next major change takes place during Gavroche's death scene. This honestly is probably the biggest of all the changes between the two recordings. R1 uses the following death scene (in the tune of "Look Down" right up until the "So never kick a dog" verse, which is in the tune of "Little People"):

How do you do, my name’s Gavroche

These are my people, here’s my patch

Not much to look at, nothing posh

Nothing that you’d call up to scratch

Some fool, I bet, whose brains are made of fat

Picks up a gun and shoots me down

Nobody told him who he’s shooting at

He doesn’t know who runs this town

Life’s like that

There’s some folk

Missed the joke

That’s three, that’s three

That one has done for me

Too fast, too fast

They’ve got Gavroche at last

So never kick a dog

Because he’s just a pup

You better run for cover when the pup grows...

By contrast, R2 uses a much shorter variant which is set entirely to the tune of "Little People":

And little people know

When little people fight

We may look easy picking but we've got some bite

So never kick a dog

Because he's just a pup

You'd better run for cover when the pup grows up

And we'll fight like twenty armies and we won't give...

This is much closer to its current form, although the last two lines are inverted (we'll get to that in a later edition).

We now fast-forward to "Dog Eats Dog", which while recognizable is very different from the number we know today. The chorus of R1 claims that "It's a dirty great sewer that's crawling with rats", which R2 changes it to "stinking great sewer" instead. I'd definitely say the revised lyric better captures Thenardier's and the sewer's grossness.

Additionally, regarding Marius' ring, Thenardier originally exclaims that he "didn't mean to waste it, that would really be a crime". By R2, the line changes to "wouldn't want to waste it", which I'd say makes a lot more sense.

"Javert's Suicide" has changed a lot. R1 features the following remarks following "Vengeance was his and he gave me back my life":

Damned if I live in this caper of grace

Damned if I live in the debt of Valjean

I'll spit his pity right back in his face

Is this the law or has sanity gone?

(I'm a little unsure as to how accurate the final line is.)

By R2, the lines have been replaced with the current ones:

Damned if I live in the debt of a thief

Damned if I yield at the end of the chase

I am the law and the law is not mocked

I'll spit his pity right back in his face

In R1, the "Where's the new world, now the fighting's done" line is absent, and there is nothing but instrumentals in the segment where it is usually sung. By contrast, it is sung as usual in R2. My guess is that an actress simply forgot her line in R1 and it was always supposed to be there, though I can't say for sure.

The final change occurs at the wedding scene. The singing which opens the number is repeated in R1. By contrast, R2 has it sung once and then done with, as it currently is (and as it should be in my opinion, since the music isn't particularly pretty and contributes nothing to the plot).

Later in the same scene, R1 includes approximately this exchange (again, it's quite hard to make out the exact lyrics):

(THENARDIER)

I was there

Never fear

Even got me this fine souvenir

He was there

Her old dad

*indecipherable* and fleecing this lad

Robbed the dead

That's his way

(MME. THENARDIER)

That's worth five hundred any old day

(MARIUS)

I know this...

By R2, everything between "He was there" and "Any old day" were removed, which makes sense given that they essentially just rehash what was already said.

Finally, there's a subtle difference in the epilogue, specifically during the "Do You Hear the People Sing?" reprise. In R1, the ensemble sings "They will live again in glory in the garden of the Lord". R2 replaces the word "glory" with "freedom", and that word remains the one used to this day. I suppose "freedom" is more appropriate for the context of peace and prosperity. To many, I'd guess that "glory" conjures imagery of knights, battles, and the like; just the kind of violence that the characters wish to move away from! I have no idea if this was why the writers changed the lyric, but it's my hypothesis.

Towards the end of the show, the chorus in R1 sings "Even the darkest moon will end and the sun will rise". By R2, this is changed to "the darkest night". Makes more sense to me, since moons aren't known for being particularly dark!

And that just about sums this part up! If I missed anything feel free to let me know, as my goal is to create a changelog as thorough and complete as possible. I plan on making more parts in the near future covering all the changes that have been made in the show up until this day (discounting concerts). Any feedback and constructive criticism is very much appreciated.

As a side note, both for this project and my own enjoyment, I want as complete a collection of Les Miserables audios as possible. I already have most of what's commonly circulated, but if you have any audios or videos you know are rare, I'd love it if you DMed me!

Until the turntable puts me at the forefront again, good-bye...

[patchies]

Shadows

Pairing: Dream x Reader x ???

Summary: An apocalyptic world where creatures of the night roam all around it. Searching for living beings to satisfy their hunger. Vicious creatures they are. It’s said that one person called upon their wrath in revenge. You awake in this place with another human being at your side. No memories whatsoever of the life you’ve had prior to coming here. In search of a way out, and your memories, you stumble upon multiple people with many personalities. Some can’t wait to meet you. If you take it the friendly or hostile way is up to you, but worry not... Nothing can hurt you. Or can it, now?

Warnings: slight mentions of amnesia and returning memories

Word Count: 1.5+k

Author's Note: the story's a bit changed now and as you might notice, I deleted the third, fourth and fifth chapter, because I plan on adding more things into the story line that are behind their events. I hope it doesn't bother you, guys, but I promise there won't be anymore changing. Fingers crossed.

Wattpad link: here

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Chapter 3: The Art of War

You both decide that the best course of action is to take advantage of the daylight and get to work on fortifying your base with items you'd found beforehand. Nick proves to be lot of help as you dance around each other in sync and ask for assistance whenever it's needed. You didn't think that you'd be working as a unit even after knowing each other for barely twenty-four hours. The chemistry between you is uncommonly good, but it might be because of the events of last night.

You sometimes bump the other's arm, but Nick has an exceptional number of questions and requests thrown your way every time it happens.

Though, one of his requests seems unusual.

“Hey, mind handing me the paint brush from the shelf?”

Your gaze shifts from his figure and the aforementioned item quizzically, wondering what he'd need it for. Although your confusion seeks answers to your silent question, you slowly move towards the shelf, not daring to turn your back towards him as the neutral and almost bored look his face sports tells you he has something mischievous on his mind. Or strange.

The feel of the brush is surprisingly very familiar in your hand, light as a feather. It's as if it was speaking to you, tempting you. Foggy memories buzz around your mind space and as a spark flies through your head, you grimace uncomfortably. Nick gives you a worrying glance, but doesn't approach you further. Nor does he speak to you since he can see the slight pain going across your features.

With a noticeable shake of your head, you push the thought away, opting to focus on the matter at hand, “What exactly is it that you want to do with a brush that serves for painting the walls?”

“I was thinking–“

“That's dangerous for you,” you interrupt, “don't want your brain to fry, do we?”

“As I was saying, I was thinking,” he playfully glares at you, “that we could paint few signs with threats to ward the intruders off.”

“Nick–“

“Hold that thought,” he advances towards you with a grin, waving his hands to help himself articulate his plan better, “I know it sounds stupid, which I don't think it does, but let's go with that, you gotta trust me. How many people would decorate their outer walls with childish signs that warn them?”

“Exactly–“

“Nah-uh! It does sound dumb when I say it like that, but it's worth a shot, ain't it?”

You sigh loudly and, with the acceptance of loss, hand him the tool. He squeals a small 'yes!' in victory and pumps his fist into the air, doing a little dance. You huff out a laugh, finding the situation funny despite him asking for a small and unimportant thing.

“Indeed. Truly a child at the heart, aren't you?”

“I'll take that as a compliment, thank you very much.”

With his small victorious moment over, he bounds from your view and you can hear the ruckus of pans and pots banging in seconds, only imagining the man-child ransacking the whole kitchen for who-knows-what. You return to your assigned job and wait for him to come back, opting to busy yourself with work as he searches for what he supposedly needs for his plan.

• • •

After what feels like an hour, Nick returns with buckets of various colours. Three hanging of each arm as he stabilizes his body to prevent the disaster in the form of bright pink, purple and red along with their neon variables. He motions towards the buckets with his head, prompting you to help him get them down. You cross your arms across your chest, sassily pointing to the sofa you've moved to the corner of the room, “You can put it there, can't you?”

“Oh, damn. That's what I get for helping you?”

You roll your eyes, but go slip the heavy containers off of his arms, carefully putting them on their respective spots on the ground near the wooden boards, “Where did you even find these, Nick?”

He puts his finger to his mouth, shushing you in the process, “A magician never reveals his secret, does he now?”

“You're not a magician, dude.”

“Let a poor guy dream, will you?”

Rather than answering his rhetorical question, you squat down before flopping onto the floor on your bottom, beckoning him to do the same. Nick follows, unhooking another brush from his belt hoops and presents it to you with the handle pointing towards you.

“Why thank you for this beautiful stuff I can wield with exceptional power,” you take the tool from him and instantly bend forward to tap both his shoulders with the bristles, “I now pronounce you as the Majesty's guard.”

“Who's the child now?”

“Still not me,” you press the handle to your sternum proudly, mischief flashing across your eyes, “We better start painting or we'll never get anything done. How exactly do you imagine the finished product to look?”

“I don't know,” he shrugs, “Improvise.”

“The instructions I, oh so, craved,” you shake your head, dipping the brush into the bright red absentmindedly. Nick slides one board over to you and you apply the first stroke, paint gliding across the surface smoothly.

The same faint memory flickers in your mind.

This one is clearer and you can even distinguish an image forming.

Confusion etches onto your face unknowingly to you, but the man across you catches onto your expression when he lifts his head. His eyes observe your own clouded orbs and he gently sets his brush on the floor, cocking an eyebrow as yours furrow together. He watches for any signs of you returning back to the present despite him not knowing what's going through your head.

He'd very much like to know, but of course, he'll wait until you will be ready tell him what's up.

Before he knows it, you're shaking your head to get rid of the picture in your mind. Nick gives you a worrying glance, silently asking you if you're okay with a quick raise of his chin.

“I'm fine, don't worry.”

With your disorientation and slower reaction time, you hardly get to register his movement and it takes your brain a couple more minutes (having to cross your eyes to confirm his actions, too) to realize he's booped your nose.

With neon pink paint.

Neon.

Pink.

Paint.

Instead of an outburst like he seems to have expected, you let your face stay stoic.

Silence envelops you both, sitting there and waiting for the others' move.

Few of the birds you have around the neighbourhood happily chirp and only after a while does a sinister smile appear, “I see. A death wish.”

Nick scrambles to his feet as quickly as he can, but you're faster, curling your nimble fingers around his ankle and harshly pulling him back down to the floor.

He lets out a small 'oof!', eyes wide with fear when he gets a glimpse of you.

For a reason, might you add, as you swing your arm at his head with a bright red paint brush in your hand, striking the right side of his hair.

An offended look crosses his face, “You did not.”

“Oh, but I did.”

“You'll pay.”

“Bring it,” you challenge and have just enough time to duck out of the way, barely missing his attack of purple. You crawl away from him on all fours, before standing up swiftly and booking it down the stairs, Nick's yells following you as he chases after you with a readied brush.

Though, just before you get to the stairs, he tackles you to the side and sits on your back to prevent you from running away. You feel the paint glide across the back of your thighs, “Another point for me.”

“We're doing points now?”

“You better catch up, slowpoke, or else I'm going to destroy you–”

The answer he gets to his call-up is a strike of red to his torso and a laugh as you dash down to hide, the signs left forgotten.

• • •

By the end of your small war, you come out with multiple colourful splotches on both the back and front of your thighs and few on your arms and face. You have basically come out unscratched compared to your human counterpart.

He's very close to being a living highlighter.

You have mainly struck him with neon colours and the occasional red that he rightfully deserved. His whole torso, chest and back now adore beautiful variants of pink and purple with some places being neon red.

His painted arms are actually not your doing, despite him throwing the blame at you in the heat of the moment. With how he had declared the war in the first place, you were surprised he was the one who called truce in the end.

After washing up (which, to be truthful, didn't do much), you went to tidy everything up and got back to building defences as the sun has not gone down yet.

At the end of the day, you've done quite a good amount of work on your base, but you can't take away the fun Nick made with the paint war you had. You can only hope it'll be enough to keep away the Shadows and not attract more attention than you can fight off.

You fall asleep quite easily, exhausted to the brim from the day's events.

[hannie-dul-set]

wc: 3.9k | warnings: swearing, some violence, cheating mentions

it was past noon when you and seolhee parted ways after eating lunch at an admittedly over-priced restaurant. you two decided to go out because she was leaving the school in two days. the whole jeno incident led almost the entirety of the student body to deem her not too fondly, so even if you wanted her to continue her education here, it would only be hard for her to cope with.

seolhee said that she did not expect jeno to apologize for the things that he did, but you still had your hopes up. which was why the conversation you two had over lunch made you feel a lot lighter inside.

("he said sorry! oh my god, i'm still thinking that it was a dream."

you let out a laugh at your friend's upbeat demeanor, reaching out to a napkin to wipe your lips. seolhee accidentally hit the table from her excitement, but luckily none of your drinks toppled down. "well, he could do more than apologize," you started. "maybe make it up to you by clearing up the situation that happened at the cafeteria so that you wouldn't have to transfer."

a slight frown tugged down the corners of her mouth. "an apology is enough for me, really. that much already means a lot considering his personality. and even if he does clear it up, i've already enrolled at eastwood so there's no undoing it anymore."

you placed down your fork, looking at the hazy expression on your friend's face, and then you opened your mouth to speak.

"do you still like him?"

seolhee choked on her drink.

"no!" she hastily wiped away the stray droplets that made their way onto her chin, staring at you as if you've just accused her of a crime. "of course not! oh my god, y/n—" there was a red hue that washed over her face, and you couldn't hold in your laughter. "i—i was just happy that jeno has the capacity to change. he actually seemed genuine, you know? it was the first time i've seen him like that."

seolhee droned on about how the confrontation went. you didn't get to listen even though you were on the line with seolhee— after hearing jeno's intentions of asking her to meet, you ended the call to respect their privacy.

"he told me that i could punch him if i wanted."

"did you?"

"i would've ended up with a broken hand."

giggles erupted and the clacking of utensils followed after. you finished your meal before her, taking a sip from the remaining liquid in your glass with the straw. it was still quite early, so you figured that you still had an ample amount of time to talk.

"i'm glad that everything turned out well for you, seolhee," you started, placing down your glass on the table. "but remember not to sell yourself short. you shouldn't be satisfied with the bare minimum."

"i know…" she sighed. "that's the most we could get out of him at the moment, and i'm satisfied with that. actually, i don't think he would have even done anything if you didn't reach out to him. so thank you, y/n."

seolhee held gratitude in her eyes as she looked at you, and you pressed your lips together into a thin smile.)

you stared at your phone as you sent your last message to seolhee, walking down the sidewalk on the way to the bakery that chenle and jisung always went to. they were close with the owners, apparently, but you've never gone there until now. the smell of freshly baked goods sent you the signal that you were nearby, and you confirmed upon seeing the lines of pastries displayed from behind the glass windows of a cream painted building.

it was a quick purchase, your hands now full thanks to the three boxes of assorted pastries. you were sure that they'd fight over it if you only got them one— so getting one for each of them would be much better. the other one was for you to bring home to your parents later.

"thank you so much, taeyong! i'll be sure to stop by often," you shot the handsome man behind the counter a smile before turning towards the exit.

"bring the kids with you too! they haven't gone here in a long time and i'm starting to think they've forgotten about me," you laughed at his words, nodding, before finally facing the glass doors that led outside. taeyong was nice, and you were already planning your next visit here. there was brightness in your face as you reached for the door handle, though with great difficulty considering the stack of boxes that you were trying to balance with your other hand.

you were about to push the door open, but you froze, brows furrowed, and the brightness of your face dimmed down. there was a scene going on from across the street— four people ushering themselves into an alleyway. normally you wouldn't be as affected, but you knew these people, and an ominous feeling buried itself in your gut.

"taeyong?" you turned around once more, eliciting a curious expression from the older male. "can i leave these here for a while? i'll be back, there's just something i need to do."

he was evidently confused by your sudden request, but he relented without any questions. you thanked him one last time before finally exiting the bakery, making your way across the street.

"had fun fucking my girlfriend last night, lee?"

it was difficult for donghyuck to maintain his carefree composure when he was shoved against the brick wall with his ribs and jaw throbbing in pain. sweat trickled down his forehead and his hearbeat rang in his ears. he wondered how the fuck was he supposed to get himself out of this situation. 

"look, hyunsung. i get that you're pissed, but let's tone down the violence, yeah?" donghyuck let out a wave of nervous laughter, raising his hands in front of him in surrender. "i didn't know she had a boyfriend! so can you really blame me?"

that was a lie. donghyuck knew well that cheonhee (or whatever her name is) was, in fact, taken. someone from the party last night told him so but he didn't exactly give much of a fuck. he thought it would be fine because they were from different schools, anyway— but it looked like he was being too careless.

hyunsung still had him trapped against the wall by the collar, the bigger male's glare drilling holes into his skin. donghyuck knew he wouldn't make it out alive if he made a run for it. he wasn't that strong or fast, and the damned neanderthal still had two other friends to back him up. all donghyuck could rely on was to somehow fool him into letting him go.

but even that didn't seem easy.

"you think i'm gonna believe that, you little bitch?"

donghyuck's blood ran cold and the grin on his face twitched. he felt his lungs squeezing in suffocation when he was pushed harder into the concrete walls, even if what he was saying was true, hyunsung was seeing too much red to believe him. a fist was raised, and he prepared himself for the impact of the third punch.

"kim hyunsung, jung hayoon, and kang jiho."

a gentle voice somehow stopped hyunsung from moving. a mixture of confusion and relief washed over donghyuck, but that was quickly overturned by unease. he froze. he knew that voice, and he internally cursed.

oh my fucking god, were you stupid? at that point, donghyuck decided that being punched would have been the much better option. why the hell were you here? and another question— how did you know these people? worry was writhing inside his gut and he bit down his lip as he watched you walk closer to the scene.

"i didn't expect to see you again, y/n," hyunsung's attention was momentarily diverted to you, but he was still helpless pinned on the wall. jesus fuck, this guy was strong. your gaze quietly moved over to donghyuck, and he hoped that you got the message that he was mouthing. hyunsung leered at him, which brought donghyuck to quickly shut his mouth.

your lips tugged down into a frown. "and i expected that all those corrective sessions with the dean would've at least made a dent into that personality of yours."

hyunsung scoffed. "righteous as always. you know this fucker?"

"he's a friend," you calmly stated, and donghyuck narrowed his eyes. what were you planning? "and i suggest that you let him go."

there was a phone in your hands and the screen was open. he couldn't see what was on it, but then you flashed it over for him and the other three boys to see. "i believe you were already at your final warning before i transferred from daeil academy."

donghyuck could see hyunsung's jaw clench as the guy glared at your phone, and it caught his intrigue. on your tiny phone screen was what seemed to be an open conversation with someone, and on the message box were a series of similar pictures waiting to be sent. donghyuck couldn't see the pictures clearly, nor did he know who were you planning on sending it to, but he got the gist of situation.

"hayoon and jiho might not get any major punishments," your eyes flickered over to the two boys, and they froze upon your stare. hyunsung's grip tightened. "but you're already on your last thread, hyunsung. you'd be expelled once the dean sees this."

at that point, donghyuck concluded that you were very very scary. but you were also very stupid for getting yourself involved in his own problems. no matter how much leverage you had over hyunsung at the moment, a guy like him would still find a way to get back at you.

"you've already done a number on the guy. don't you think that's enough?" you reasoned. "this isn't my business in the first place, so i won't send this if you let him go."

hyunsung's glare was as cold as ice.

"delete it."

but you didn't seem to be shaken at all.

"of course."

you sighed, explicitly showing to him that you permanently deleted the evidence from your phone. hyunsung finally let go of donghyuck, and he released a long breath, hid hands gently nursing the bruise on his face. the pain on his jaw and chest was momentarily dulled by his fear that you'd also get pummeled, but it once again resurfaced and donghyuck flinched at the throbbing feeling.

"you're still the same, y/n," hyunsung let out a bitter chuckle, signalling the two other boys to start moving, and you sent him a nod and a smile.

the three eventually left, but donghyuck still hadn't moved from his spot. he stared at you who seemed to be frozen in thought, that is until you released a sharp huff of breath and your knees nearly gave in to the floor.

"oh dear god, i thought i was going to die," you exhaled, sauntering over to donghyuck who was ready to catch you in case you actually did fall over, but you shot him a glare to stop him. "don't move— you're hurt."

donghyuck gulped and firmly nodded in obedience. you found yourself before him, but you didn't say anything further yet. you didn't scold him or ask him if he was sleight. instead you had your yes locked on your phone, fingers tapping down before shutting it off and shoving it down into your pocket. you finally looked up to him, and your brow raised upon seeing his puzzled expression.

"what were you doing?"

"sent a message to the dean."

his eyes widened. jesus, you were seriously scary. before donghyuck could press on any further, you quickly snatched his hand, staring over to the only opening that led out of the alley. "c'mon, let's go."

you already started walking before he could even retort, dragging the flabbergasted male behind you. "w-wait, where are you taking me?"

there was no answer from you, instead you just kept on walking and donghyuck was left with no choice but to follow.

“will you two be okay?”

“mhm! thank you so much, taeyong!”

the both of you were hidden in the furthermost area of the bakery, donghyuck sitting on the available chairs with a pack of ice firmly pressed against his bruised jaw. taeyong had been generous enough to let you two stay here for a while (the ice was from his, as well), and you promised to buy another box of pastries to thank him, to which he firmly refused with the shaking of his head.

“just make sure you get the guy home safe, okay?” he told you before going back to man the store. you concluded that taeyong was perhaps the nicest person you’ve ever met, and you were suddenly worried by the idea that chenle and jisung might have extorted this man’s kindness somehow (the former, mostly).

“y/n.”

donghyuck’s voice— lacking the confidence and cockiness that it usually held— called out to you amidst your thoughts. your ears perked as you sat before him, leaning forward in your seat and your eyelashes fluttered as you waited for him to continue. he wasn’t looking at you though, eyes in a faraway daze as he looked at the bakery’s sleek wallpaper.

“thanks for saving my ass earlier.”

he muttered, a slight pout on his lips as he did. donghyuck couldn’t bear to look at you at the moment due to his stained pride, but he isn’t that prideful to miss out on actually thanking you. It was genuine, though the embarrassment of you seeing him so helpless was still present. he was suddenly afraid because you weren’t saying anything, but then the sound of your chair screeching as you closed in on him happened, and all he felt now was confusion.

“what are—” donghyuck was about to look at what the hell were you doing, but when your hand gently made contact with the non-injured side of his face, turning his head to look at your worry eyes, the words he was about to say fizzled into air in his throat, leaving his mouth agape in fluster.

“it’s fine, hyuck. does it still hurt?” the rapid pace of his pulse when you brushed away the ice pack in his other hand to examine the dark bruise somehow made him even sensitive to the pain when you mentioned it. he flinched, unable to say anything. “ah, this is gonna last a while. you should drink some painkillers in the meantime, okay?”

donghyuck gulped. oh my god, why were you so close. your soft voice flooded not only his ears, but his entire being and it felt like he was drowning in your presence. the pain that was screaming under his skin was blocked away, numbed into nothingness because all he could feel was how his heart was running to follow you even though you were already so, so close.

he wondered what the fuck was going on with him.

all of a sudden, he felt like an absolute idiot. how would people react upon seeing the rumored fuckboy, lee donghyuck, flaring up at something as innocent as this?

he needed to pull himself together.

“ah!" donghyuck made a hissing sound when your fingers brushed over the area again, instinctively jumping away from your hold, and your brows furrowed in worry. he pouted at you, pressing the half melted ice pack to soothe his jaw once more. "i don't think ice and painkillers would be enough to get rid of the pain, y/n."

instantly, your eyes widened in panic. "oh no, does it really hurt that bad? should i take you to the hospital? oh my gosh, what if it's broken? donghyuck, how much does it—"

"maybe you should kiss it better."

there was silence.

your voice stopped midway, mouth hanging open and you deliberately put it to a close. a cheeky grin was painted on donghyuck's face, one that made it look like he wasn't feeling any pain at all. he noticed the worry on your face being slowly washed away, replaced by your lack of emotion, and you stood up. once more you decided to move closer, walking up to him and barely hovering over and— wait a minute, were you actually gonna do it?

he didn't think about it this far, oh my god.

"wait. y/n, i was just— jesus fucking christ—"

"you deserved to get punched."

donghyuck let out a yelp of pain, hunched over as he hugged his torso. he forgot that he was also attacked on the ribs and was only reminded when you mercilessly jabbed your finger to his chest. he looked at you as you went back to your seat, letting out another groan. “did you just hope that i was also injured here or did you actually know and deliberately subjected me to pain?”

“the latter,” you hummed, crossing your legs. “i was watching from the beginning.”

“so you just let that bitch hyunsung attack me?”

“like i said— you deserved it.”

there wasn’t a hint of jest in your voice and features, meaning you really waited until the last moment before you decided to swoop in. donghyuck bit down his lip, unable to meet your eyes. you were there from the beginning meaning you knew why hyunsung was about to beat the living daylights out of him. suddenly he felt like he didn’t deserve to be saved by you.

"but why did you still help me?"

he was genuinely wondering why you did that. you let him get beat up for a while before deciding to finally get between, but why? it really didn’t make sense to donghyuck, and his heart hammered against his pained ribs while he waited for a response.

“did you really think i was just gonna leave you like that? hyuck, you’re my friend and i care about you.”

what was supposed to be an answer only raised more questions.

“but— but didn’t you say i deserve it?”

“i thought that two hits was enough.”

donghyuck was flustered by your responses and he didn’t even know why. people either sided with him or were against him yet you were situated at both boundaries at the same time. it was a kind of combination that brought him to a place in his head that he’d never been before. you probably noticed the flurry of emotions swirling in his face, so you decided to speak up.

“donghyuck, are you alright?”

“o-oh, yeah,” he shot up under your worried gaze, and he pressed his lips together before speaking. “thanks again for helping me.”

he felt like he wasn’t worthy of your kind smile. “a-also, can i ask a question?”

“go on.”

“don’t you think that i’m like… a shitty person?”

donghyuck was afraid of your response. he was afraid of hearing that you’d agree even though he knew that he was really a terrible person. more than anything, he was afraid of what you thought about him, actually.

“i don’t think so,” you said. “but maybe you’ve done a lot of things before that would be considered ‘shitty’.”

he was genuinely surprised by your answer.

“it’s never too late, hyuck.”

it was quiet for a moment, but it was welcome. donghyuck took this time to think for a moment, to actually get in touch with the mess that had been long ignored in his head. he looked at you as you silently busied yourself with your phone, lips pursed in a manner that had his chest tightening. as if you noticed him staring, you shut off your phone and faced him.

“i think we’ve been loitering here for too long,” you breathed, a sheepish smile on your face. “should we go?”

donghyuck nodded before scrambling to get up. he went over to pick up the boxes neatly placed on the table beside you, but you quickly smacked his hands away. “what?”

“do you think i’m gonna let you bring all of this while you’re injured?”

“y/n, my hands are fine. didn’t you watch as my face and chest got brutally assaulted?”

“you’re still hurt, hyuck,” you protested. “also i’m not letting you go home by yourself. what if hyunsung decides to come after you? do you have anyone to come pick you up?”

donghyuck bit down his lip at your question. he wasn’t planning on going home and he somehow knew that you weren’t going to let him off easily if he told you that. there were many options that flooded his head on what he should tell you— maybe he could say that he’ll head to his dad’s company so that you wouldn’t have to worry, or maybe he can call renjun or jeno pretending that it was his mom.

but for some reason he didn’t want to lie to you.

“um,” his eyes were trained behind you when he spoke. “i don’t really want to tell either of my parents to know what happened... and i don’t want to stay at home, either.”

surprisingly, you didn’t press any further.

“okay,” you assured, and he sighed. he didn’t think that one simple okay could make him feel lighter. “still, i don’t like the idea of letting you off on your own. why don’t we call one of your friends?”

wait a second—

“should we ask jeno? wait, maybe we shouldn’t bother him for now.”

donghyuck’s face paled.

“what about renjun? ah, he might be busy today.”

god, please no—

“oh, let’s ask nana! maybe he’d let you stay over at his to rest for the time being.”

he wanted to stop you, but you were already calling him, and his blood ran cold. there wasn’t a problem with him staying over at jaemin’s— he was actually planning on doing that, anyway. the problem laid on the fact that jaemin would probably kill him once he found out that you were with him. donghyuck was too dumbstruck by the situation to even realize that wait— how did you know jeno and renjun? you even had their numbers? what the fuck?

“thank you so much, nana! i’ll text you the address,” there was a smile on your face when you were talking to him, and donghyuck didn’t want to get rid of it by telling you that the person on the end of the line was probably scowling at your request right now. that would also mean that he’d have to tell you that jaemin had been trying to pursue you, and he didn’t want to get in the middle of that.

so all he could do was smile and nod as he waited for his friend’s wrath.

but much to his surprise and relief, it never came. because the moment jaemin arrived to drag his ass to his house, he seemed to be too distracted by you to even look at him. he noticed something different from his friend; the bright gleam on his face when he looked at you was something he had never seen before, and it welcomed a feeling that he had never felt before.

“thanks again, nana! i’ll see you two tomorrow,” when you finally parted ways, donghyuck expected to finally be berated by his friend for, once again, not listening when he told him to stay away from you, but all that happened was the dimming down of his previous elated demeanor.

“let’s go?”

jaemin uttered without a trace of anger or malice or anything— and donghyuck was more unnerved by this. he nodded in response, wordlessly trailing behind his friend as he went over to crash at his place for the umpteenth time that week.

AN EYE FOR AN EYE // A HEART FOR A HEART

as they say, what goes around comes around. so when you break a hundred hearts out of the selfishness of your actions— be prepared to get your own heart broken a hundred times, as well.

24 // kiss it better

a/n: it’s 12:30am as i’m typing this and i’m just about to shut down oh my god ayways i hope you enjoyed this part!! some hyuck action hehehehe i’d say more shit but i’m really so tired rn so good byE

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[basicjetsetter]

Part II

♡ Pairing: Peter Parker x Black!FemaleReader

▹ Warnings: Language, Mentions of Death, Depression, Triggering Content, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt

▹ Words: 3k

▹ A/N: ATTENTION! This is an emotionally heavy part. Please DO NOT READ if you know you will be affected. For those struggling with depression, I see you, I care for you, and I love you. You’re not alone and you are undeniably worthy of love.

-Five Years and Twenty Nine Days Later-

You don’t want to get up.

Your phone’s alarm clock is rounding on its tenth circuit, if your counting is correct… and there’s a good chance you blanked out for fifteen minutes while watching a strip of sunlight lethargically inch down your blanket to the foot of the bed, so your number may be off by six or seven.

It’s not that you’re tired or anything, or maybe you are and that’s beside the point. It’s just that your bed is far too comfortable for your own good and you know today is Saturday, the busiest day at Hal’s Diner, and it just so happens you’re scheduled for an 8 a.m. to 2 p.m. brunch rush. If you had a choice, you’d stay in bed.

But you don’t. And you’re running twenty minutes late… for the fourth time in two weeks.

I’ve got you.

Shut the fuck up.

You wearily snarl, snatching your pillow out from under your head and slamming it against your face, uselessly stuffing it over your ears as if that would somehow miraculously block out the words. 

Usually, the voice stayed quiet. After three years of the repeated promise drifting around your brain like a lost ship at sea, you had finally figured out how to anchor it to the deepest, darkest, most unchartered recess of your mind. Every now and then, though, they’d find a way to rattle the chains, just to remind you of their eternal presence, but it never lasted long. You didn’t acknowledge them anymore. They no longer fooled you.

But, twenty-nine days ago, something reinvigorated the voice, giving them a renewed sense of purpose and a reason to break free.

Twenty-nine days ago, on the exact anniversary of their disappearance, everyone came back. 

Out of the blue, in the middle of the day, all of the people Earth mourned for five years reappeared to a very, very stunned world. Celebration rocked the streets of New York and all over the globe. Lovers lost returned. Mothers. Fathers. Sisters. Brothers. Babies. Friends. They all came back. And the voice in your head broke free of its chains, rampantly bouncing around your mind as if they were on pure steroids, ready to charge forward and find the one your Destined Words belonged to. 

Everything reverted back to normal.

Except, besides your newly released Destined Words, nothing changed for you.

You weren’t there when… when your best friend rematerialized in your previous apartment. You moved to a smaller, modestly priced place six blocks away. It was great for what little money you had, and your landlords, a lovely couple that always leaves you a present outside your door for Christmas and birthdays, were generous enough to accommodate for your lack of funds.

You just couldn’t keep your parents’ apartment. Not when you knew they weren’t coming back. 

No one ever speaks about the casualties of the ones lost that day, the ones who perished from the effects of the blip. For a long time, you just couldn’t cope with the fact that a swerving hit from a rogue truck whose driver turned to dust was all it took to take your parents away. But you had to move on.

Ever since that day five years ago, you’ve been on your own.

You’re sure your friend tried looking for you by now, continually calling up a retired cellphone number, searching through deleted social media accounts, maybe even asking your old high school for your whereabouts to no avail. Even though you’re not far from home, she’d never find you. 

You don’t want to be found. You like being alone.

With a great, gusty sigh, you roll out of bed, grab some clothes and undergarments, then pad to the bathroom, ignoring the chiming circuit of your alarm clock. It can wait. You go through the motions: washing up, putting your hair in its regular bun, brushing your teeth, and staring at your unaged face in the spotted mirror.

It’s not vanity, though it’s common knowledge that your features will be impervious to aging for a long while. You literally haven’t aged a single day since the blip.

It was an intriguing phenomenon after the first two years. Everyone your age who had heard their Destined Words but had yet to meet their Soulmate just stopped aging, and when the younger generation hit the age of eighteen, they stopped aging as well. For some, like you, the effect was felt rather than seen. Ever since the string inside you snapped, you knew that cosmic time would stand still until you connected with your other soul. You’re not holding your breath for that anytime soon.

As you step out of the steam-filled bathroom, your alarm blares out its last chime before switching to the Vmm Vmm Vmm of an incoming call.

You pick up on the sixth ring. “Good morning, Hal.”

“This is the fourth—”

“The fourth time. I know, I know. I’m on my way.”

Hal grunts into the receiver, “Don’t get smart with me, little lady. Just because you’re my best server doesn’t mean I won’t fire you.”

That’s precisely what that means, and he knows you know it. You blow out a sigh, “I’m seriously almost out the door. Like two steps.”

“Uh-huh,” he says, a hint of a grin in his quizzical noise. “Well, hightail it, would’ya? The joint’s packed already and I need all hands on deck, so scoot.”

“Scooting,” you confirm, snagging your bag off of your sofa and grabbing your keys. “Who’s with me today?” Please don’t say Wendy. Please don’t say Wendy.

“Chris and Wendy.”

You groan as you shut the door behind you. “Come on, Hal. She’s dead weight in the morning. I might as well be working with a zombie in an apron.”

Hal grumps, “At least the zombie gets here on time.”

“Have you had coffee yet? You’re not you when you’re decaffeinated.” It’s true. Even with your truancy, Hal wouldn’t hold it over your head more than twice. He’s usually as chipper as a dog in a dog park at this time, bustling and joking up a storm.

He takes a loud sip, then says, “We’re slammed, is all, and I’m missing my best hand.” Two disgruntled heys ring in the background and Hal immediately issues apologies. “Just get here, will ya?”

Before you can remind him again that you are on your way, he disconnects the call.

You’re wondering if it’s too late to go back to bed.

The little, infamous family diner is only seven blocks south of your apartment building, a nice walk when the weather’s good and a pain in the ass when it’s not. You used to enjoy the quiet mornings and the stillness that came with it, but ever since things went back to normal, you can’t survive the walk without a pair of headphones jammed in your ears and your music’s volume turned all the way up. Everyone’s just so… loud.

Thankfully, today, the walk is a straight shot and you’re in the doors within fifteen minutes.

It’s like stepping into a den full of ravenous animals. Worse, it’s like stepping into a den full of ravenous animals and being stuck with the task of serving them.

“Look who’s finally decided to show up,” Wendy chides, stifling a yawn as she shuffles to a table and places down three menus. She’s twenty-two years old and likes setting your teeth on edge.

You deadpan, “Did the cat drag you in from the front door or the back?”

“Knock it off, you two,” warns Chris, walking by with two arms balancing four plates of the Sunrise Breakfast Special. He looks at you, then jerks his chin back to the kitchen. “Boss is about to blow his top.”

Nodding, you make your way to the back, giving a small wave to some regulars. Out of breath and sweat running down his reddened neck, Hal is moving like a man caught in a whirlwind, flipping eggs and pancakes and sausages and hash browns and bacon while checking orders and filling plates. As soon as he hears the kitchen door close and sees you, he visibly sags in relief.

“Don’t bother clocking in. Just put your apron on and get out there.”

You nod. Set down your things. Put on your apron. Arrange a plastic smile.

Go through the motions.

It’s all the same thing every single day. Wake up, work, school, sleep. Repeat. Unlike the other constants, school is something you’re temporarily trying out. It wasn’t your original plan, the whole four years to a bachelor’s degree, then some more years for a master’s. You gave that up long ago. Right now, you’re just taking a free weekend art class at a community college. Oddly enough, it’s something you’re beginning to look forward to on Saturdays and Sundays.

Work, while you’re great at what you do, is never a highlight. 

Hal was right. The diner is slammed, and you’re swept up in the current of rude, demanding customers, snide remarks from Wendy, cheerful shrugs from Chris, and barking orders from Hal for six whole hours. You work through your two fifteen-minute breaks. No one reminds you. You slip on spilled hash browns. No one helps you. You bring back a plate three times to satisfy a customer who kept finding fault with their eggs. No one thanks you.

Everything is back to normal.

I’ve got you.

“Fuck off,” you snap, slapping a hand to your mouth when you see the elderly woman you’re serving knit her brows in revulsion. “Oh, no, ma’am. I’m-I’m sorry, I was—”

She stands and marches out of the diner before you could explain, snatching her ten-dollar tip off the table.

“… talking to myself,” you finish under your breath.

She’s the last of the brunch rush, leaving only the regular afternoon crowd and a few stragglers. The clock near the cash register reads 2:13 p.m.

You brush off the disappointment of a lost tip and head to the kitchen to grab your things and leave, Chris and Wendy following you. Hal’s two other workers, the ones here till closing, cover the floor well. Not like they had much to do.

Hal is whistling a jaunty tune when you walk in, stopping to salute you, Chris, and Wendy with an exhausted grin. “Nice work out there, you guys. See you tomorrow.”

Wendy is out the door the instant she clocks out.

Chris catches your arm as you grab your bag from your small locker. “Hey, um, I sort of heard your little outburst, and I was wondering if you were okay.”

You nod, gently shrugging his hand off. “Yeah, it’s just a tip. I made enough.”

“No, not that,” he shakes his head, clearing his throat and pushing a hand through his choppy beach-blond hair. He ineptly bends his head down a little, getting close enough for a private conversation you do not want to have. “It’s just… you’ve done that before and I just want to make sure everything’s alright with you.”

You can’t put the plastic smile back on, he’s seen it too many times to know it’s not real, so you half-heartedly grin. “I’m fine. Thanks for asking.”

“Yeah, anytime. Hey, so, me and a couple friends are hanging out tonight. There’s gonna be a music festival in Cunningham Park. Wanna hang?”

Chris tries this every week. At first, you thought it was his bashful attempt at asking you out, but he’s a happily taken man with a big heart and a lot of friends. Every customer he meets, boom, they’re friends and soon loyal customers of Hal’s. It’s a gift. You just wish he caught your not-so-subtle hints of evasion.

Tonight, though, you had the perfect excuse. “Can’t. I got class.”

He tilts his head in confusion. “On a Saturday night?”

“Yeah. It’s a free course. Get it where I can take it, you know,” you awkwardly laugh, hoping Chris wasn’t offended as you take a couple of steps back towards the exit.

His smile doesn’t falter. “Maybe next time, then.”

Not likely. “Sure, yeah. See you later.”

You duck out before he says goodbye, dashing out the front door and speed-walking home.

I’ve got you.

I’ve got you.

I’ve got you.

You stop dead in the middle of a sidewalk.

Where did that come from? It’s never said it three times in a row before. Does… does that mean something?

Your breath quickens at the thought, and you spin around, scanning the vacant street. You’re the only one occupying the sidewalk, you and a curious squirrel sniffing at the crisp air. There’s not a person in sight. When you’re certain you’re in the clear, pivoting a glance around one more time for good measure, you pick up the pace, practically running the rest of the way home.

Once you’re in your apartment and the door shuts, you desperately whisper to your mind, “Don’t say it anymore. I don’t want them, okay? I don’t want a Soulmate.”

Nothing.

“I know you hear me,” you bite out aloud, forcefully shoving back the urge to yell. “Stop saying the words.”

Still nothing.

Silence rings hollow in your mind like the voice is waiting for your temper to cool down. Like it knew it upset you and felt chastened enough to back off and take a time out in a corner.

You stand immobile in the middle of your cramped sitting area. Tense. Waiting. Waiting longer than you care to admit. The urge to fight deserts you as quick as it comes, but you’re still standing there with your fists balled up, feeling more and more defeated as the minutes drain away.

The voice isn’t going to leave you alone. You know that. It’s here to serve one purpose, and the only thing holding it up is you. You’re meant to meet whoever those words belong to… but then what? They magically fix you? They love you back to normal? Five years ago, you may have believed they can do that. But, the problem is, you’ve gone through enough life-altering events in the last five years to last you a lifetime, and this one person, this person destined to pair with your soul, won’t be your wave-of-a-wand solution.

You just want it to stop.

I’ve got you.

A lone tear slides down your cheek as you trek to your bed and climb in fully clothed.

For a long time, you simply stare up at the ceiling as the tears leak out the corners of your eyes. You make no noise, and your chest doesn’t jerk up and down with sobs. The tears gather, and then they fall. Gather and fall. Gather and fall until there are no tears left. You continue staring at the ceiling.

You think back to the days when those godforsaken words and the future they foretold brought you happiness. What a wonderful promise, pairing with someone who will always be there for you in some capacity and will instantly love you. You can’t recall any Soulmate story not working out. Maybe they just never speak about it. Why mar the fantasy?

The sun dipped below the horizon a while ago, and now the moon shines bright in the night sky. You missed your art class.

Your body is as stiff as a board when you sit up. There’s a tight pounding in your forehead, either from crying or lack of food, but you aren’t bothered enough to deal with it. Instead, you move to the only window in your room and pull back the curtains to gaze at the stars. Not many are out yet, but they glitter like gems around the moon, and the night sky nears a lovely shade of midnight blue.

The sight is so pretty; you find yourself grabbing a couple of paint bottles, brushes, and a small canvass, then heading out of your apartment, walking up six flights of stairs to reach the roof.

It’s quiet when you get up there, save for the noise of zooming cars below. The first time you came up on the roof, just out of curiosity, you loved how solitary it felt, loved the view overlooking the building-strewn skyline and the overall height of the complex. It became a nice place to visit when you wanted to be by yourself.

You walk over to the edge of the building, sitting your supplies down on the ledge, then look up at the sky for the best angle to capture the moon and the stars.

The sky is vast. So endless. So open. So free. You stop scoping out for the perfect angle and just admire the shining moon when your eyes land on it. It’s waning, only a sliver of its surface visible as it prepares to transition into a New Moon. Then you gaze at the stars as they dimly twinkle back at you… like they can see right through you.

Like they can see your sadness.

You step closer to the ledge, each step laden with the weight of smothered grief. You lost everyone. Your parents. Manda. She’d never recognize the person you’ve become.

You step onto the ledge, not looking down but up, trying to memorize the image.

You lost your Soulmate. That broken string in your chest never felt the same, even after everyone came back. Maybe you were too far gone for any connection.

You turn around. You’d thought you’d feel numb, but acceptance fills you. It’s okay to let go.

You lower your eyes, slowly lean back, and let gravity take over.

Air sails past your ears in a rush as you fall, and you can’t really focus on anything except your erratic heartbeat. You don’t struggle as your body wants. You just fall and wait.

And then, in a sudden flash of red and blue, you’re propelling sideways and swinging upwards, a strong arm pressing you against a hard chest.

“I’ve got you.”

As soon as he said the words, you knew who they belonged to, as if you knew this entire time. Even with the mask covering his face, you knew. But it still doesn’t stop you from incredulously saying, “Peter?”

His masked face snaps to yours. A small part of you tries to pin his surprise on you correctly guessing his identity, but something bigger assures you the reason for his alarm is a match to your own.

He knows you’re his Soulmate.

...

Part III

[thegoodomensdumpster]

(1) I'm fat and I fucking love the crumbs, it's such a bummer that they won't be around anymore. Besides, stereotype or not, some fat people (like myself) are messy and gross and some aren't and that's okay. I liked seeing myself represented in Aziraphale here, and it sucks that it's now being cencored. I'm fat and I'm messy and the fact that people want to hide that that's a thing makes me feel more ashamed about who I am than I wouldn have been if it was just left alone.

(2) I'm sick of the trope that fat people have to always be pristine and constantly ON AIR just to be given the same respect that a thin person would have, even if they themselves were also messy. I loved your crummy Aziraphale, he made me feel like I was still worth something and capable of great things and worthy of a dedicated love. He made a lot of people feel like that. Art shouldn't be cencored. This asks breaks my heart a little, because... I’m not the authority on validating people of course, but in case anyone needs to read that: OF COURSE you are worthy of love and respect and just being a human if you are messy, if you are fat, if you are messy and fat, or if you happen to fit a stereotype that mainstream media have rendered harmful. Because you are people, not fictional characters, and you exist beyond these stereotypes boundaries. You are complex, and alive, and your existence matters.

More under the cut for discussion on character design, stereotypes, tumblrfoolery, and my own incapacity to know what to do. The most important bit is above, but if you guys want to take part into a bigger conversation with me, either by replying to this post or MPing me, I’m welcoming you with open arms. It got a bit long, but hopefully it isn’t too confused.

(Also, quick side note: I’m not deleting any of the crumb jokes previously made, so if you miss them, you can still find them in the archive of this blog under the crumb omens hashtag.)

My opinion on character design is actually this one: there is no inherently harmful trait for a certain type of people, it is all a question of context and quantity. In the case of a character that is fat and messy, if it just happens that, among other fat people, one of them is messy, then it’s not a stereotype, and it’s not harmful. However, in our current media landscape, those two attributes happen to be associated way too often, enough that it leads to essentialisation of fat people ( aka: if you’re fat, you’re necessary messy, lazy, etc... these reductive associations are almost systematic ).

In the context of my blog and my work at large, if you’re familiar with it, I think it’s safe to say that I, personally, don’t use the fat and messy character as a stereotype, because I also depict other fat characters as non messy characters. Thats for my context. That’s also probably why, when I made all the crumb jokes, I didn’t even think about this stereotype.

But the thing is, I don’t post my fanarts in a vacuum. Especially on Tumblr where posts tend to have a life of their own when they get reblogged. They get cut from their context, hence only showing the tip of the iceberg, which is what I consider to be a harmful stereotype. And even within their context, it might still come as insensitive and hurt people who have been badly affected by this stereotype. And this has nothing to do with my original intentions.

This would lead to the consideration of how much of a private / public venture exactly a blog is, and to what extent should we take mainstream depictions into account when we design characters ourselves, and how much can we expect people to take things into the context of the OP’s work, or the OP’s blog, or the website it was posted on... This is something I’m scratching my head over, I’m not sure I have an answer to that. I’m not even sure there is an answer to that. But what I know is that this specific blog, though it still is MY blog, also has a following big enough that I cannot fully consider it as private ( although, I never consider any internet space to be really private ...).

However, I one hundred percent agree that there is a huge issue in, as a reaction to these harmful strereotypes, not allowing minorities and oppressed group as appearing any less than perfect. This is a terrible response, a terrible pressure, and it’s as much dehumanizing as only seeing people through the prism of stereotypes. And I know I can not satisfy everyone when I make a choice, but I do try to make the choices that hurt the less, or at least the ones that won’t hurt the group of people I care about (and by that I mean: I would not hesitate to make fatshamers feel ill at ease, but I do not want to hurt fat people over fatphobia).

So, yeah, it does feel like I fell into another trap that ends up guilt tripping people. But I don’t know how to react, I don’t where to stand, because I don’t know which reaction would bring the less suffering. It seems that there is no perfect answer, and fat people might get hurt either way. I just know that, since I’ve been made aware of the kind of hurt the crumb jokes could do, I’m feeling uncomfortable myself continuing them. So, this is not strictly censorship. Because, at least right now, I don’t feel like I want to continue them either. Maybe my mind will change, I don’t know, but I have the feeling that maybe my issue is mostly based on the media (aka: a tumblr post) rather than the joke itself. Because if, for instance, I had one messy fat character in a comic book where you can see other fat characters in all their diversity and complexity, then it wouldn’t feel like I’m tapping into a stereotype, and therefore I doubt it would make a lot of fat people ill at ease. Because that one messy fat character could hardly be cut from the context of its book. But with a tumblr post that can escape its context or directly be surrounded in a tumblr search on my blog by other similar post declining the same messy joke with the same fat character... I don’t know. 

I just, really, really don’t know.

I feel saddened by the hurt I’m doing to people either way, and I’ve received several messages of fat people telling me they liked the crumb jokes. But I cannot know if people who were actually hurt are just silent on this issue or if I’m just ... anticipating a hurt that wasn’t there to begin with ( because the original message that made me aware of this issue wasn’t actually written by someone who personnally felt ill at ease at that joke, it was just pointing it out as fatphobic, which I agreed to be an issue as well ). 

So, yeah. If you have any insight on this issue, absolutely feel free to contact me. This is an important conversation to have, or at least it is to me, and it touches on many important topics so it’s ... potentially long and convoluted and confusing. But I want to learn, I want to do better, and I want to help people feel good about themselves. This is possibly my number one goal as an artist. 

<3

[takingcourage]

Miscalculations: A Witness AU

Chapter One

Catch up here: Prologue

Pairing: M!Cassian x MC 

Word Count: 2,000

Series Summary: After years apart, fate brings Kellen and Cassian together a third time. Can they learn from the mistakes of the past, or are they destined to repeat them once more? 

Note: We’ve got a time jump and a transition chapter here. I promise things will pick up in the next installment, which should be posted no later than Wednesday. 

Also, for what it’s worth, I don’t know what to make of canon Harika. In the first couple of chapters, she's MC’s friend (close enough to be the one person MC hopes to call before entering WITSEC), but the dialogue options in Chapter 7 suggest she’s just the “office gossip.” As you’ll see in this chapter, I’ve stuck much closer to the original impression I had of her character. 

Cassian was staring. He couldn’t help it, really. 

Tucked away in the corner of the pub, he had a perfect view of the young couple at the bar. From here, even if they caught onto his attentions it would be easy to pretend he’d been focusing on the game being broadcast above their heads. 

Starting in on his chips, Cassian still watched them from his periphery. The exaggerated flourish with which she finished off her drink, the confident way he flagged down the bartender to order her a second, the laugh they shared as their heads bobbed close enough to conspire. 

It was almost enough to make Cassian jealous. Working with international fugitives made for an exciting three years, but it had left him with little chance or energy to pursue much else. The transfer back to Boston was timely. 

He’d missed being in a city that he knew like the back of his hand. Even more, he’d missed having a place that felt something like home. And, he considered, catching the lovesick eyes the couple made at one another, there’s a chance you’ll run into her. 

It was a far-fetched thought, and one he’d be better off forgetting altogether. It had been ages since he’d seen or heard anything of Kellen. For all he knew, she wasn’t even in Boston anymore. She could have moved a dozen times over and he never would have been the wiser.

Maybe the years away were making him sentimental, or maybe it was just that his twenties had slipped into his thirties without fanfare or any significant life changes. Whatever it was, he’d been thinking a lot more about settling down, and thoughts of settling down almost always led to thoughts of Kellen.  

Living with her in Nantucket was the closest approximation he had to a permanent relationship, and though his feelings on that time together were mixed, they were mostly fond. After years apart, he couldn’t help feeling curious about what would have happened if they’d ever had the opportunity to reunite. 

It was probably for the best that he never found out. 

A waitress brought him another pint, taking the near-empty glass from his side. 

“Thank you,” he murmured before taking first sip. She started at the sound of his brogue, and he offered a small smile in return as she walked away. 

His accent had always been something of a blessing and a curse when it came to women. Kellen had labelled it his “third-sexiest feature” after drinking a bit too much one night in Nantucket. She hadn’t elaborated on the other two, but her attentions the rest of the evening had left him with few doubts. 

Drawing steadying breath, Cassian realized that his thoughts had strayed in her direction yet again. It was high time he stopped letting the past have that kind of control over him. 

Now that he was back in Boston, it was time to move on. Time to put field work behind him and transition into something more stable. Time to catch up with his Ma and what siblings still remained in the city. Maybe it was even time for him to start dating seriously.

A figure passed in front of his table, no doubt on the way to the single restroom in the nook nearby. His senses honed on her automatically, though he was certain she posed no threat. 

Black hair, late-twenties. A bearing that exuded more than the natural allotment of confidence. As he caught a glimpse of her face in profile, recognition dawned. 

Was that Harika?

He wiped the foam from his upper lip, zealously scanning the rest of the bar for signs of Kellen. She was nowhere to be seen: the same as every other time he’d chased her phantom over the years. 

Still, if he wanted a way to get back in touch with her, he could do worse than asking her best friend. Grappling with the possibility, he locked his attention on the hallway she’d disappeared into. 

Was it worth the risk? Their “relationship” had been holding him back for the last few years. What if finding her again only extended the inevitable? What if it led somewhere worse? 

But could anything really be worse than leaving things unresolved?

When the woman appeared again some minutes later, he sprung into action almost before realizing he’d made up his mind. “Harika,” he called, wondering if there was any way to make the interaction feel natural.  

She pivoted toward him with a skeptical eye, her mouth falling open when she saw who he was. “Cassian? What are you doing here?”

He could ask her the same. An Irish pub in Allston didn’t seem a likely establishment for the woman to frequent. “Getting some dinner. Any chance you’d join me for a minute or two?” 

Harika looked pointedly toward the bar, then perched in the empty chair. “I’ve got a minute.” 

The two of them had never been great friends, but they’d gotten along fine on the handful of occasions they’d interacted in the past. Even so, there was something unnerving about having her across the table from him now. “How’ve you been?”

“Stellar,” she commented dryly, scrutinizing her nails. “Did you really ask me to sit so we could talk about me?”

“Blunt as always, I see.” Forcing a laugh, he tried to gauge her demeanor. 

She engaged in a catlike stretch, miming boredom with frightful accuracy. “Why change?”

“Okay, you’re right,” he conceded, rubbing his hands together under the table to try to relieve the clamminess of his palms. “I was wondering if ya might be able to give me Kellen’s new number? I haven’t been able to get ahold of her, and I’d like to talk.”

Harika arched an eyebrow. “It’s been an awfully long time since you left. What makes you think she’d want to talk back?”

Cassian bristled at the question, but covered it well. Maybe he’d jumped into the crux of the matter a little too quickly. “Is she doing okay?” he began again. There were a thousand other things he was dying to know, but it seemed like the best place to start. 

“She’s fine. Still single, if that’s what you’re getting at. Woefully single. But that doesn’t mean she’s desperate.”

This time, he didn’t try to disguise the astonishment on his face. What had he said to make her so defensive? “I’m just looking to talk, Harika. Maybe take her out for dinner to catch up.”

The request seemed to satisfy her. At the very least, it didn’t provoke her further. For an uncomfortable moment, she just stared at him, filing one long nail against the pad of her thumb. Finally, she uttered a responding question: “What if she’s better off without you?”

He was missing something. The matchmaking coworker he’d known had been replaced with a cautious protector intent on giving him the third degree. Eyes narrowing, he chose his words carefully. “I think that’s for her to decide.” 

“Kind of a change for you, isn’t it?”

“What is?”

"You didn’t exactly give her a choice when you ended things, running out on her without even telling her what country you were headed to or giving her a way to stay in contact.”

Cassian’s blood ran cold. “It wasn’t like that,” he insisted, having to tamp down the growing indignance at her accusation. Surely she knew that he’d done everything with Kellen’s best interest at heart. “It was going to be months before I could contact her again regardless, and she didn’t want the distraction of a relationship. When I left, letting her move on seemed like the best option. ” He rolled his shoulder, covering his wince at the spasm the motion produced.

“And you haven’t said a word to her in the meantime?”

“I haven’t been able to find her. I checked the office, her house...everything.”

“Yeah, she transferred to the new branch a few months after you left. She moved to be closer to the new building.” 

He nodded at the explanation. She’d been talking about such a transfer before they’d lost contact, though she’d never mentioned specifics. “And her phone number? It’s been disconnected for years at this point.” 

“Had a stalker. She had to change her number and delete her social media and…”

Cassian swore under his breath, anger rising as he thought about what she’d been through. He took several moments to process the realization that Harika might be protecting Kellen from more than just him. “I wish I’d known. I hate thinking that she had to face that alone.” 

“She had me. And she’s strong.” 

“I know.” What Kellen lacked in street smarts, she more than made up for in determination. If her safety were only a matter of willpower, he never would have had cause for alarm. Still, the news that she’d been in danger sparked his protective instinct in a way he hadn’t felt in years.

“Do you think she would agree to meet with me?” he asked quietly, softening at the reminder of how far removed they were from Nantucket. 

“I have no idea.”

At her vague reply, he decided to switch tactics. “Would you at least be willing to give her my number?” Given Kellen’s recent history, maybe it was best to leave the ball in her court.

Harika surveyed him with an appraising eye, scratching her brow with a thumbnail with calculated slowness. 

“If you do,” he continued, “she can decide for herself. I won’t press any further if she decides not to take it.”

The woman dropped both hands, her empty palms serving to emphasize her question. “What is it that you’re hoping for?”

“To know where we stand. I want to know if there’s any chance we could be more to each other now than we were before I left.” He was letting himself get carried away again. Sighing, he reined himself back. “If we can’t, then I hope to find some closure.” 

Across the table, Harika’s bored expression transitioned to a half-smile. As she looked him over again, Cassian could almost see her brusque facade falling away. “I’m the one who pointed you out to her on the rooftop that night,” she confided, meeting his gaze. “Did you know that?” 

He nodded good naturedly. She’d told the story at least a dozen times across the few encounters they’d had. 

“I said then that you were relationship material, and the hopeless romantic in me still thinks that could be true. I’ll talk to her for you. Here,” she unlocked and passed him her phone, “put in your number.” 

“Thanks, Harika. I really mean it.” 

“You can make it up to me by taking Kellen on a date,” she offered with a wink. “Seeing her alone is depressing. But if you hurt her, you’ll have me to answer to. Got that?”

“I do.” There was something almost absurd about being intimidated by a woman half his weight, but he took her promise seriously. If nothing else, he certainly didn’t want to get on Harika’s bad side. 

“Good. And good luck, Cassian. If you’re the one who gets her to change her mind about romance, I’ll have bragging rights for the rest of my life.” Depositing the phone in her purse, she stood and left him with a practiced wave. 

___

The next forty-eight hours crept by. Even at work, Cassian felt like he was checking his phone every two minutes to see if he’d missed any updates from Harika. 

When the message finally came two nights after their meeting, it was from a foreign number. Standing at his bathroom sink, he tapped it open as he brushed his teeth, almost choking on the toothpaste when he read the opening two words: 

It’s Kellen. Meet me at 10:00 tomorrow morning at Gemma’s Bakery. 

It took everything within him not to call the number back. After three years of silence, the first words from her threatened to make him foolish with power. Deciding against the call, he still wrote her immediately, toothbrush sticking at an angle between his lips. 

I’ll be there. 

[onlynight-onlylight]

Encounter

Words: 2,6K

Pairing: Jin x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Slice of life, Stranger to lover (?)

Summary: You will never know when and where love comes to you. Moreover when it comes from a perfect man that everyone adores.

Note: I’m surprised myself when writing this short fic of Jin. I didn’t expect the story to be like this haha. I write this for Jin’s birthday which is next week!!! And this is my first time to write after a looooong time so I hope it’s not too awkward.

Dani: Are you free today?

The very first message I check in the morning comes from my best friend. I make sure that today is Saturday before I send a reply.

Me: Yeah. Why?

Dani: I bet you haven’t check the group chat yet. Seonho asks us to meet today, reunion with hidden agenda I guess.

I open an active group chat consists of my high school friends. We actually don’t talk often but we always give each others’ updates to maintain good relationship. I scroll a little bit because everyone is sending message. When I see a picture, I finally understand the hidden agenda Dani’s told me just now. Seonho is getting married. Seonho, my biggest crush during high school.

**

“Are you coming?” Seokyung & Dani are on the way to the café. Some of friends will meet today, for the sake of reunion, and for early celebration of Seonho’s wedding. These girls have been my up and down when trying my best to keep my secret crush hidden. I’ve said to them many times that the silly crush is gone now, but I can’t lie that something does feel strange. And now they unnecessary worry about me.

“Of course. Call me again when you arrive, I’m at the nearby park.”

“Going out with your camera again?”

“Yes. I don’t want to waste a good day like this”

“Okay. Don’t stay under the sun too long”

I walk around the park, following the line of trees. It’s getting warmer as welcoming spring season but sometime the wind is still too cold for me. I take some pictures when find something that catch my eyes. It’s always entertaining to watch people’s interaction. I often sit alone and enjoy the breeze. It helps me clearing my mind when days feel too rough. Sometimes, I get bonus to see beautiful faces for my camera to catch. Just like that one particular man who just walks out from the café. He must be model or actor to have that gorgeous face and perfect proportion.

 I take few pictures of him. I know they will turn out good even though I don’t take its properly. It’s surely not because I’m a good photographer but the object. It makes me smile. It will be nice to get this kind of pictures every time I shoot.

*Dani calling*

It’s time to be back to reality.

 I make a promise earlier that whatever happened today it won’t break me down, not again. I might like him in the past but it’s all in the past. He will forever see me as a friend and I know that from the very start. I know it well. But it’s just I get a closure that I needed today when I get his wedding invitation. I can hold it well in front of him and my friends. But somehow, a tear escapes from my eye.

I look at the film camera I bring today. I want to make memories with them, with Seonho too, using his camera so I cannot have second thought after the photo taken and delete it. This should be one of ways for me to toughen myself and be true to my own words. I’ve done liking Seonho and only see him as a friend.

I still have 5 frames to go. I take a deep breath and snap a shot of the upper part of the building together with the clear sky. Long sigh comes out, I really don’t want to cry but it keeps falling.

“Are you okay?” asks a man from a bench away. It startles me and surprisingly stops me from crying.

“I know it’s not my business but I think you need this” says the man who is standing a step away. I look at him while wiping the tear stain.

“I’m fine”

“I just purchase it from the vending machine if you don’t believe me. I don’t have any bad intention. I just feel bad to see you sad and this sweet drink should make you a little bit better”

He is very good looking. No, extremely handsome. He surely has his way with words but I still keep my guard up. These days, many criminals disguise as kind looking or educated person.

“You can take a picture of me as proof later on, if I really do something bad to you”

He, once again, push the cold drink to me and back to his bench again. He opens his bottle and drink it like a commercial. I can’t help a small smile when see him do that. He is surely a weird guy.

“I’m ready to pose if you really want to take a picture though”

“Okay, just in case”

I bring my film camera to my eyes and capture a very clear shape of his face.

“One more with your phone. You can send it to your friend ‘just in case’ I steal your phone later” he says while striking another pose. I shake my head. I do not expect laughing at the very moment.

I fulfill his request to take his picture with my phone camera and show him the result. I really hope he is not a bad guy because it will be a shame for his beautiful face and such a wit.

“Thank you” I say to him before drinking. My heart feels a little bit lighter than earlier.

“Will you post you pictures online? Hmm maybe on instagram?”

“I don’t know”

“I give a permission to post my pictures on your page then, no need to thank me”

I laugh for the second time. This time he laughs with me. Why someone bother to stop, spend his time for a poor looking stranger and make her laugh? I mean, we are strangers, we don’t know each other, less care for each other.

He, now, moves to my bench and sit on the other edge.

“I’m Seokjin, you can call me Jin. You can to not tell me your name now, but do me a favor”

“What is it?”

“When I find you, I mean my picture on your SNS, you cannot decline my offer for coffee or dinner if you don’t drink coffee”

“Okay”

“Be prepare for our second date” he says before leaving me all smiley on the park.

When he’s far enough from my sight, I just realize. He’s the man I saw this afternoon. The living sculpture that makes my pictures look better. I shake my head in disbelief. I’m expecting our next meeting to come.

10/10

This is the last picture of my happiness project. A pleasant encounter. Thank you.

 seonho__kim Oh? Who’s this? You hide your new boyfriend from me?

kyungie_SK YOU MEET HANDSOME MAN IN SECRET!? WHATTA BESTFRIEND!!

DDDani is he… Jin sunbae? You two ...?

KSJin92 I cant tell which one is better, the photographer or the model, should we discuss it over a coffee? Or dinner? Your call.

 The minute after I post Seokjin picture, everyone’s being wild. My bestfriends are being so loud on our private group chat. Sending all text in capital letters, sending all threating meme stocks they have on their phone. They demand me to explain in details how, when, why regarding Seokjin. I have to ignore those texts as I have to back to work. I know once I start replying them, they will never let me to stop until they satisfied. I receive DM notification from the source of this phenomenon right before I out it back to my pocket.

Jin: I know I offer coffee or dinner, but I wait for a long time just for coffee.. I know this Japanese restaurant that has superb menu and deserves all those Michelin star, so… will you be free on tomorrow?

Me: That sounds very promising and I have no reason to refuse, don’t I?

Jin: Great. 010 XXX XXXX This is my number, text me your office address and I’ll pick you up. See you soon ;)

 Right after works, Seokyung and Dani ask me to meet them in chicken restaurant near our highschool. It’s our favorite restaurant to go whenever we want to fulfill our stomach while gossiping.

“I don’t believe how small this world is. How can you and Jin sunbae meet? He is ‘the sunbae’ I told you guys before” Dani seems excited and amazed at the same time. Dani works at the finance consulting company for 2 years now and Seokjin is his senior in different department.

“The famous sunbae?” ask Seokyung. Dani nods quickly. Me and Seokyung remember how Dani describe this man to us the first week she got the job. The idol of her company, who has many admirers from intern to senior staffs.

“I met him at the park last time, we talked a little and he asked me to take his picture”

“But how? And why?”

That’s exactly my questions too. Compared to him, I’m just an average looking woman, and a stranger. He must have work with many beautiful women in daily. I shrug my shoulder to answer them.

“It just happened”

“Is he a weirdo? I know he is handsome, but it doesn’t mean he is a good guy” Seokyung states her opinion with doubtful face.

“He. Is. The. Perfect. Guy” Dani says.

“He is very kind to others, well-mannered and smart. He is professional at work, no matter how friendly he is, he will be strict to those who make mistakes. During our company’s dinner, he can make everyone’s laugh with his dad jokes. I don’t think you can fake that one, no?”

“So… it will be fine if I meet him again, right?” ask me to both of my bestfriends.

“Totally fine”

“I think so”

They answer at the same time. They look at each other and laugh.

“That’s the fastest answer I ever heard from you too”

“I wish you to have boyfriend for what.. 2 years? It’s the perfect time to start again, you know” said Dani with a smile.

I’ve tried to have romantic relationship with other men before this but it never stays long. I was happy with them, everything goes smoothly. However, at some points, we both know that I cannot love them like they love me.

“Do you think it will work out this time, with Seokjin?”

“We won’t know for sure, but we wish you to be happy”

I also wish myself to be happy, happier.

Spending time with Jin is always entertaining. He knows his choice of words will lighten up the mood between us whenever we’re going out. He never seems out of topic or makes me losing interest. When I talk, he will attentively listen. Most of times he introduces me to all of his favorite restaurants in the city. Sometimes, he will accompany me taking pictures for my new projects. We just feel very comfortable to have each other around.

“Have you tried the new ice cream parlor near your home?”

“I haven’t tried it yet but I heard it’s good. They also have opening promos this week, if I’m not mistaken”

“Then should we go there before I drop you?”

“Hmm… are you making me join your morning jogging tomorrow?”

“You can read my mind so well. I need to make an excuse so I can meet you tomorrow morning”

I hold my smile and turn my face to the window.

“Who’s taking a woman eating ice cream nearly 9 pm”

Seokjin laughs a loud. He puts the ice cream parlor’s address to his car’s GPS despite of my comment because he knows I won’t survive the temptation.

“I will let you eat the mint-choco flavor this time. How about that?”

I pretend to think for a while. We both know Jin will get what he wants, but I just want to make it looks like not too easy. I don’t want to look I like him more than I should. Considering he let me to buy mint-choco flavor after countless dates for ice cream, he must really want us to go there. He always stops me when I want to pick that particular flavor and suggest me all of other flavors before.

“Bonus. How about dinner at my place next week? I’ll show you how good I am in kitchen”

I know he doesn’t have hidden meaning in his words but I can’t help to blush. He shouldn’t know how many times I imagining to hug him. He has wide shoulder and tiny waist, deep soothing smell and a good amounts sweet talks. We always an inch away to kiss. It makes me somewhat impatient and wondering how it feels like.

“O..okay”

“Cute”

 We don’t label our relationship but we are no longer stopping ourselves to touch each other with affection months ago. This time feels different from the other relationships I have before. I trust Jin from the beginning and I think I fall in love with him sooner than I expected. He, himself, is very different from men I met before but I never thought we will match very well. To be honest, I thought he’ll only play around with me. But he always proves me wrong with his actions.

Dinner at his place become a routine. He doesn’t cook every time I come over, but never let me disappointed by his chosen take-out menu. Sometimes he just wants us to watch movies with snacks. The first three dinners, he will drive me home even it’s late. But after that, he will pretend too sleepy and persuade me to sleep over. It’s not I don’t like it, but he just tortures me more than before. These days, he will just hug me once I step inside his place and won’t even let me go for more than 5 minutes. It feels like we put ourselves in internal battle, to see who stands longer in this sexual tension.

 “You’re not going home tonight” he said.

“I know” I answer without looking at him.

I give up to try right after the first night I fail to force him getting up while pretend to be sleepy. I remember how cheerful he sounds when I agree to sleep over. He even let me wear his favorite green pajamas.

He pulls me closer to him till my back fully leans to his chest.

“Should I tell you my plan tonight or you already know too?”

“Hmm? What plan?”

“I call it ‘Making You Mine’ plan?”

“Making me yours?” I ask. I turn my face to see him and find him already looking at me.

We just stare to each other’s eyes for some good seconds until his eyes start to travel down. He stops at my lips and wetting his own lips. I can’t help to notice how his tongue move slowly.

“Yes. I’ll make you mine tonight” he whispers while looking back at my eyes.

My mind blanks. I can’t think other things than his lips, his body, just himself in front of me. His face comes closer and I close my eyes when I feel his soft thick lips on mine. I hold onto his arm that circles my waist.

“I forget to tell you. You’re not going to sleep either”

The perks of having best photographer in the world as your girlfriend ;)

By @.Y/N

 Y/N OMG. WHY DO YOU POST THIS?!

KSJin92 @.Y/N you’re the only one who can capture my beauty, honey, I have to show it to the world

Y/N @.KSJin92 tell me why I agree being your gf again

KSJin92 @.Y/N oh you know why… should I list all of them here? ;)

DDDani @.kyungie_SK this is why she was busy for the weekend ;)

kyungie_SK @.DDDani totally understand lol

Y/N @.DDDani @.kyungie_SK shut up you two!!!

[matrixaffiliate]

Endeavor

Chapter Update! FFN and AO3

I want to promise you right now that this story is a happy story and has a happy ending...just stick with me. ;) Next chapter goes up on Friday, August 21st.

Chapter 4

Ted made it back to his flat and forced himself to plug his phone in next to his bed so he would stop checking it again and again. She said she would text him. He just had to trust that.

He tried to distract himself by tidying up his room a bit, but his mind kept going back to how amazing the night had been. Being there with Vic felt right, it felt easy, it felt like everything he wanted things between them to be.

He was kicking himself over that feeling for the hundredth time when his phone buzzed on his night table.

Unknown: Did you make it home alright?

Ted let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and saved the number.

Ted: Who is this? How do I know you aren't a predator?

He grinned and laid back in his bed, propping himself up against his pillow.

Vic: I'm totally a predator. My victims are always white males in their mid-twenties.

Ted laughed out loud.

Ted: That seems fair. I guess I can talk to you until my coworker decides to get back to me. She was supposed to text me tonight.

Ted watched her typing icon with what he was sure was a stupid grin on his face.

Vic: As fun as that sounds, I really was looking forward to guessing your name, so can we drop this game and pick up that one?

Ted: Such a killjoy.

Vic: You promised me clues, Ted…

Ted: How do I know you're really Vic and not an impersonator?

Vic: Because your wolf figurine is sitting on my desk next to my laptop dock, and you knocked half your chips on the floor tonight when Jamie said that it was probably time you found a girlfriend.

Ted groaned. That had, unfortunately, happened. Jamie had asked if Ted would start dating now that he was done with university and only had the one job. Ted had been so flustered that he tipped his basket up and knocked some of his chips on the floor.

Ted: So cruel...why would I give you any information about my full name now?

She sent him a GIF of a baby about to cry, and Ted started laughing. He started to type a snarky reply but stopped himself when a dangerous thought crossed his mind.

What if he called her? Heaven knew he wanted to.

He deleted what he already wrote and started again.

Ted: Don't do that, don't pull on my heartstrings. I'll make you a deal, call me so I know it's you and then I won't hang up until you know my name.

Ted hit send and held his breath. He was beyond screwed at this point. He was certain she was going to play this off, tell him she was tired and they could pick up this twisted game on Monday.

Then his phone rang and Teddy's heart exploded in his chest.

"You waste no time, Weasley, do you?"

"Oh, shut up," Vic laughed and Ted tried to let his relieved sigh out slowly.

"No more stalling, Ted, I want my clues."

Ted grinned, "But of course, I'm a man of my word.

"Clues, Ted, clues!"

Ted laughed. "First clue, a few of my predecessors have been our country's monarch, while another abdicated the throne."

"Ha!" She shouted, and Ted laughed as he moved his phone to his other ear.

"I knew you were an Edward," she laughed. "You're too down to earth to be a Theodore."

"What does that even mean?"

"Doesn't matter, all that matters is I was right!"

Ted couldn't stop smiling. "Are you satisfied with being right enough to not care about my last name, then?"

"In your dreams, Edward."

Ted swallowed. Maybe this was a bad idea, but he was already in this deep, too late to back out now.

"Alright, do an internet search for the scientific name of wolves."

It was quiet for a moment before Vic spoke.

"Canis Lupus?"

"Right," Ted smirked, "and this is probably the part where you decide you hate me. Because next, you take those letters and rearrange them into my last name. You'll only need five of them though."

Vic groaned. "Ted that is an awful clue!"

"I don't know, it stretches your mind and gets your brain thinking. Those are things that are supposed to help stop Alzheimer's. So really, I'm helping you, Weasley, I'm preserving your brain for your future self."

"You're so full of it," Vic laughed. "Come on, Ted, give me more than a word scramble."

Ted could feel the smile stretching across his face.

"Please, Ted." Vic's voice went soft and Ted felt himself falling.

"Alright, one last clue," he looked over at his desk and the picture of him and his mum when he was ten, a bouquet of flowers in her hands. "There's a flower, it's my last name. It's usually purple, but they come in pink and blue and orange too."

"You should send me a picture of the flower."

Ted rolled his eyes. "I have to make you work for something Weasley."

"Fine," she laughed, "I'm turning on my laptop."

"You're going to try and search for it? What is your search even going to be?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" She teased.

"I would actually," Ted chuckled. "That way the next time someone wants to guess my name I can make it harder."

"I can't believe it! It worked!"

"What's my last name then, Weasley?"

"Lupin!"

Ted laughed. "What the hell did you search?!"

"Canis Lupus flower."

"Well done, Vic," Ted picked at one of the stray threads on his blanket.

"Why thank you, Edward Lupin."

His name felt like a song when she said it.

"Not a bad name, eh?"

"I've heard worse," Vic's voice was soft again. "But you still haven't told me your middle name."

"No way, Weasley," he laughed, "I don't know that about you, so I'm not giving you that information about me."

"If I tell you my middle name will you tell me yours?"

Ted felt his heart rate increase

"Yeah, I think that's fair."

It was quiet a moment before Vic made her decision. "It's Gabrielle, it's my aunt's name."

"Victoire Gabrielle Weasley," Teddy tried it out and it felt like honey on his tongue.

Vic cleared her throat, "Alright, your turn, what's your middle name?"

"Remus, after my dad," Ted answered without hesitation, "And Edward is after my grandfather."

"Edward Remus Lupin, that has a nice flow to it."

Ted smiled. "I've always been fond of my name."

It was contentedly quiet between them and then Ted got up the courage to ask something he'd been thinking about since Jamie said Vic had him reading a rough draft of a book she wrote.

"So, you're writing a book?"

Vic was silent a while longer before she answered. "Yeah, I, er, I've been working on it since uni."

"And you got a communications degree instead of focusing on creative writing because…?" Ted held his breath, worried that Vic would shut down this conversation.

"Well, I thought a communications degree would pay the bills, you know?"

"Authors do tend to have day jobs," Ted chuckled. "So, what's this story about? From someone as brilliant as you are, I'm sure it's a best-seller waiting to break all the records."

"Well, it's a fantasy epic," Vic started but then she went silent. "Oh, Sean is calling, you alright if we call it a night?"

Ted leaned his head back into the wall and closed his eyes. "Sure, I'll see you Monday."

"Thanks, Ted. See you Monday."

Teddy tossed his phone back on his night table. He might as well find something to distract himself from how much it sucked to be falling for a girl that was so far out of his reach. He changed into his P.J.s and then decided he would see if Kalil was in the mood for some late-night Mario Kart or something, but his phone buzzed against his table.

Vic: What is it with people deciding they have to call other people when they're drunk?

Ted sighed; he shouldn't do this. He should act like he fell asleep and text her in the morning.

Vic: He's singing me the song playing at the pub. It's Jamie's Got A Gun.

Ted laughed and gave in.

Ted: Maybe it's code ;)

Vic: That would be the worst way to tell me he was in trouble!

Ted grinned.

Ted: But think of the possibilities! You could send all sorts of messages with songs!

He watched Vic's typing icon and laughed when her message came through.

Vic: You mean like Viva la Vida?

Ted: You fancy yourself a disgraced king?

Vic: I'm full of surprises.

Ted: That you are Weasley.

Ted smiled as he watched Vic's typing icon blink on his screen.

Vic: I finally convinced him to go home and get some water. I'll see you on Monday, Edward Remus Lupin. ;)

Vic: Goodnight, Victoire Gabrielle Weasley.

He set his phone back down on his night table and flipped the lamp off.

Monday couldn't get here fast enough.

OoOoOoOoO

Ted laughed when he walked into the office Monday morning. His wolf figurine sat in the center of his desk with a fence built out of paperclips around it.

"Afraid he'll run back to you?"

"I just want him to understand that he has to stay with you." Vic grinned.

Ted moved his wolf out of the corral and set him down closer to Vic's desk.

"There, now he won't feel like you've abandoned him."

"What about my fence?" Vic teased.

"Oh, I think I'll see what I can get for it on eBay. There's bound to be someone out there who wants a paperclip fence."

"Start the bidding at ten quid. I'll accept nothing less for my artwork."

"Maybe we should paint it, raise its value." Ted laughed at the face Vic made.

"You want to ruin it? How dare you suggest such things!"

"I'm just saying," Ted laughed, "Why settle for less when we could maybe get twelve quid for it instead of ten?"

"You mean settle for eight quid because you had to ruin it with paint." She shot back with a laugh.

"Color makes everything better."

"Of course, you think that," Vic grinned and gestured to his hair.

Ted ruffled his hair, "Well, you told me you liked it that first day, so I think you just proved my point."

Vic smiled and looked down at her hands. "So, did you, did you really want to know about my book?"

"Of course, I do," Ted felt like she'd just offered him fifty pounds. "Is it YA or NA or YMCA?"

Vic laughed and started to give him the sparsest of details.

"That's all you're going to tell me?" Ted threw his hands up. "Come on, you can't expect me to believe you only want to tell me the basics. You've been working on this epic for more than three years!"

"Well, I mean, Sean doesn't really like to hear about it, and I just thought…"

"I'm not Sean, Vic," Ted rolled his eyes. "I want to know everything, so let's get to it."

Vic gave him a shy smile, "If you're sure?"

"I asked, didn't I?"

She smiled and before Ted knew it, they'd lost the first hour of the workday.

"Ok, let's get some work done, and then you can tell me the rest." Ted laughed. "I haven't even logged in yet."

"You're sure you want to hear how it ends?" Vic teased him.

"So torturous," Ted grinned at her.

Vic went to respond but her desk phone rang and for a moment she looked torn before turning her chair back to her desk and answering the call.

Ted grinned to himself as he went back to getting set up for the day. Things were going well, they were having fun, and he was settling happily into not just the position, but also the goal of growing their department into the first branch of Bread & Butter to break off and stand on its own.

But it wasn't so great when Sean showed up at lunch and took Vic for the rest of the day. She texted him an hour after they'd left and asked that he cover for her in the case that Ron showed up, and she asked Ted to forward her desk phone to her cell phone. Ted did so, and then spent the rest of the day feeling like an idiot.

And things continued to go up and down as they moved into winter and approached Christmas.

It only made things harder when Ted realized that he wasn't hiding his attraction to Vic well from anyone, except maybe Vic.

"Why are you looking at stuffed toys that look like wolves?" Kalil sat down next to him on the sofa and leant in to see his laptop screen a bit more than a week before Christmas.

"I was thinking of giving it as a present," Ted defended.

"Right, but for whom?" Kalil gave him a pointed stare and Ted rolled his eyes.

"I don't see how that's relevant."

"Ted! You're buying a present for your coworker who is in a relationship!"

"I never said it was for Vic!" Ted shut his laptop.

"You didn't have to," Kalil shook his head. "Look, Ted, I'm worried about you. You're obsessed with Vic and she's off-limits. You need to get out of your head. Come to the pub with me and Maira tonight. I'm sure she can get a few people to come too. You need to remember that there are more women in this city than just your coworker."

"Kalil," Ted ran his hands over his face.

"What would you do if she married Sean?"

Ted felt like Kalil had just punched him in the stomach. He couldn't breathe for a moment and his chest felt like it was collapsing.

"See," Kalil put a hand on his shoulder, "I can see it in your face, Ted, you're falling for her. Stop it! Get out and find someone just as great. Come to the pub tonight."

Ted let out a long breath, and he couldn't help but think that maybe, maybe Kalil was right. Vic seemed to like to goof around with him, but she'd shown no signs of leaving Sean for him. No matter how many times Sean let her down, no matter how many times he did something that she didn't like, she stayed. And the nearly five months of working with her had been full of huge highs and incredible lows. He'd loved the moments where he felt like it was just the two of them, but walking out after work on the days Sean picked her up to find he hadn't waited long enough after she'd left as he got a full view of Sean's tongue down her throat left him feeling like a loser.

"Alright," Ted nodded, "I'll come tonight."

Kalil squeezed his shoulder, "Good on you, mate. You'll see, this will be a good thing."

Ted nodded, but a part of him wondered if it really was.

Even with his misgivings, Ted was ready to head out when Maira showed up at their flat.

"I'm so glad you're coming with us!" Maira hugged him. "I've asked a friend to meet us there, I think you'll have fun!"

Ted rubbed the back of his neck, "Thanks, Maira, I appreciate it."

"Let's head out then," Kalil took Maira's hand and led them out into the cold.

Ted realized after they'd been out for a bit, just the three of them, that this was a good idea. He hadn't gone out much at all since before finals in May. Getting to laugh and talk with friends felt freeing.

"Oh, there's Nicki!" Maira jumped up and waved her friend over to their table.

Ted turned around to see a woman who could have been described as Vic's opposite. She had black hair with lime green highlights and it was cut in choppy layers, the longest barely touching her shoulders. And while Vic tended to wear conservatively colored clothes, at least at work and the one Saturday Ted had seen her, Nicki was wearing a bright pink blouse with teal trousers; her orange coat draped over her arm.

"Nicki this is Kalil's roommate, Ted Lupin. Ted this is my friend Nicki Choi."

"It's nice to meet you, and I love your hair!" She shook his hand across the table as she sat down.

"Thanks, I like yours as well." Ted smiled. Nicki wasn't Vic, but she definitely put out the vibe that she liked to have a good time.

And she did. Nicki was loud and fun and not afraid of anything. She tried anything she was put up to. She laughed loudly. She defended her opinions with passion, even if he flat out told her she was wrong. Nicki reminded Ted a bit of the stories he had heard about his mum when she was his age.

Ted was having fun, and so when Nicki scooted closer to him, he didn't think about it when he draped his arm across her shoulders. And when she rested her head on his shoulder, he let her. A small part of him pushed back, but Ted told that part of him that if Vic could snog Sean in the car park, then he could let a cool woman rest her head on his shoulder.

"I'm calling it a night," Nicki moved to hug Maira at about half eleven. Then she turned to Ted. "Will you wait with me out front for my Uber?"

"Sure thing," Ted nodded and moved to follow her. He tried to ignore the way Kalil grinned at him.

"This was fun," Nicki smiled up at him and pulled her orange coat closer around her.

"Yeah," Ted nodded, "yeah it was."

"So, who broke your heart?"

Ted blinked. "What?"

"You have 'heartbroken' written all over your face. I figured that was why Maira called me." She smiled sympathetically at him.

"I, er, it's complicated." Ted shook his head and rubbed his hand over his eyes.

"Did you have fun tonight?"

"Yeah," Ted chuckled, "yeah, I actually had a lot of fun."

"We could keep having fun. I don't expect you to move into another relationship with me, but we could just have fun, spend some time reminding you that hearts heal."

Ted hesitated. He didn't know why, but he did. Nicki was amazing. He'd be an idiot to turn her down.

"Here," Nicki pulled out a gum wrapper and pen from her clutch and wrote on it. "This is my number. Think about it, Ted, I think we could have a lot of fun together."

Ted nodded as he took the gum wrapper. "Thanks, I, er, I'll think about it, alright?"

Nicki smiled and then nodded a few cars down from the curb. "There's my Uber. Thanks, Ted."

She stepped forward and kissed his cheek, her cold lips managing to warm just the skin they touched.

Ted stood in the cold and watched her wave once before climbing into the Uber. He waved back and then the car pulled away.

He took a moment before he went back inside. Gum wrapper still clasped in his hand. He'd had fun with Nicki, and she obviously had fun with him. She was fun and beautiful and he admired her spunk and attitude.

So why was he hesitating?

Ted slipped the wrapper into his wallet and went back inside.

"That took some time," Kalil smirked at him.

"Er, yeah, I, we talked," Ted took a swig from his drink.

"Nicki is amazing, Ted," Maira smiled.

"Yeah, yeah she's, she's really cool, I, er, she gave me her number."

"You're going to call her, right?" Kalil asked.

"I, er, I think I might, yeah."

Kalil stared at him like he was stupid and Ted sighed.

"I think I'm done for tonight, mates. I'll catch an Uber home, let you two enjoy the rest of your night." Ted didn't wait for a response. He forced a smile and moved to the door. The pub wasn't all that far from their flat, and so Ted decided to walk it instead of requesting the ride.

The cold was bitter, but it helped to clear his head, though not enough to figure out what he should do. He wanted to hope that maybe Vic would suddenly return his feelings and dump Sean and be with him. But even with all the problems he could see she was having with Sean, Vic still stayed. A part of Ted feared she always would.

OoOoOoOoOoO

Monday morning rolled around and Ted was trying to figure out if he was looking forward or not to seeing Vic as he drove into work. He'd spent Sunday more or less holed up in his room, and Kalil seemed content to let Ted work through this one on his own. That didn't mean Ted was any surer one way or the other, though.

But when Ted walked into the office, he paused.

Vic hadn't made it in yet.

That felt weird. Ted was never late, but Vic was always early. He tried to shrug it off and get himself settled in for the day. She'd probably hit traffic was all. But even as he kept telling himself that, Ted kept trying to see around the corner of the building out the window into the car park.

Finally, he heard the door push open and Ted spun in his chair, ready to razz her for being late. But his eyes fell on her hand as she pulled off her glove with her teeth.

"You've got to be kidding me." He'd said it before he could stop himself.

"I know!" Vic smiled down at her ring. "I would have thought he would have waited for Christmas or New Year's, but he asked last night!"

"That's," Ted forced a smile, "wow. I, er, congratulations."

"Thanks," Vic smiled at the ring again and then started getting settled into her desk.

Ted thought he might vomit. He needed to get out. He couldn't be here, not with her, not now, now that she'd chosen Sean permanently.

He picked up his desk phone and forwarded it to his cell. Then he shut down his laptop.

"Are you going somewhere?" Vic looked over as he packed up.

"I have a few sales calls I'm going on today."

"Oh, well, are we still good for dinner?"

Ted paused. He'd forgotten all about their Monday and Wednesday meetings over dinner. Those evenings that he looked forward to every week. The moments that he felt connected to her in a way that felt real to him.

"I actually have something tonight. I'm sorry I should have remembered to tell you on Friday." He zipped up his backpack and grabbed his coat.

"I'll see you tomorrow, and congrats again, it's brilliant."

"Thanks," Vic frowned, "I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Right," Ted nodded and left without a second glance.

He was grateful that she wouldn't be able to see him from the window as he stepped into the car park. How could he have been so stupid? Of course, she chose Sean. Ted had wanted her to like him so much he'd blinded himself to the fact that she was in love with her boyfriend, tosser that he was.

Ted drove home and set up at his desk in his room to get back to work. He tossed his wallet on his dresser and paused. He pulled out the gum wrapper and called Nicki.

It went straight to voicemail, and Ted almost hung up, almost gave into that part of him that hoped Vic would choose him, but he pushed that aside and left a message.

"Hey, Nicki, it's Ted. I was calling to see if you wanted to grab a drink or something. I, er, I hope to hear back from you. Bye."

He set his phone down on the desk and powered on his laptop. Then his phone buzzed.

Nicki: Hey Ted, it's Nicki, I'm in a meeting, but would you like to meet for lunch today?

Ted didn't let himself hesitate this time.

Ted: Sounds great, send me an address and time. I'll meet you there.

[starstruckmyths]

I NEED THAT BIKER AU IT SOUNDS SOOO GOOD god i love you so much please remember that😉❤️

I’m just🥺🥺 That’s so sweet I have no words! Well, I do have some words... I wanted to make it short but then I just kept getting new ideas so... hope this satisfies your needs a little, I may turn it into an actual story one day...

.

- The weather forecast app on Bucky’s phone says there’s a 20% chance of light rain. No need to ask a ride from and to dance practice, right?

-Wrong. The moment Bucky steps outside he sees the dark clouds packing together, a low rumble rolling through the air like a wave, and he knows it’s going to get bad. He checks the app again. It says there’s no rain. Bucky looks up.

-Dark. Storm. Clouds.

-He deletes the app.

-No coat, no bike, no car. He has to walk. He hopes it’s not going to rain until he’s at least halfway home. He’s scared of thunder. The loud sound never fails to make him jump and the bright flashes make his skin crawl. He fastens his pace.

-Not even five minutes later rain starts. It’s a light dribble, but Bucky knows it will get worse soon. With his bag clenched against his side, he walks.

-The sound of a motorcycle approaches from behind. Bucky is slightly envious. He can’t drive, but he wished he could. Then he could have gotten any kind of car or motor to get himself home safely. It’s getting dark. Bucky shivers. He only has his vest. It’s not enough.

-The motorcycle doesn’t pass him, instead, the loud sound turns into a lower purr. Bucky steals a glance behind him.

-It’s one of those punks, but not just any...

-That’s Steve Rogers.

-Bucky has heard of him. Of course he has heard of Steve Rogers. That guy’s like the most desirable man of the city. Unless you’re twice his age or strictly religious, then you pretty much hate him, but all the girls want him and the guy want to be like him. Bucky has seen him around on that bike of his. Big and black and shiny, with some stripes in the colors of the American flag. Bucky doesn’t really know much about bikes.

-The guy stops beside him, and Bucky hesitates, but then continues walking. The bike moves forward as he does, sliding quietly at Bucky’s side until the both of them come to a halt.

- “Not the best neighborhood to stroll through alone,” Rogers says, when Bucky looks at him, “You live close by or need a ride?”

-Bucky doesn’t believe what he’s hearing. Steve Rogers. Offering him a ride? The world must truly have been turned upside down. “I’m good,” he answers, his body twitching on another shiver, and he’s sure Rogers saw it.

- “You sure?” Rogers had very blue eyes. They were like swirling ice in vast oceans. Bucky had never seen such eyes before. He gripped his bag a little tighter, not knowing what to do with himself. Rogers continued, “In a few minutes the heavens will turn on the tap. You could get sick.”

- Then something chances on that obscenely handsome face. Eyebrows raise, and Rogers nods a little, as though he suddenly understands or realizes something. “It’s because I have a bike, no? The leather jacket and all, that turns you off?”

- Bucky stares at the cut-out frame of the guy before him. The leather jacket sitting tightly around his muscled arms, and Bucky can only wonder what is hidden beneath. He blinks. Stop thinking about that. You have to get home!

- “People say you’re dangerous,” Bucky says, deciding to be honest, echoing the words of the elders who always whined about everyone and everything and condemned pretty much everyone to hell, “A punk. They think you’re one of those biker gang criminals you shouldn’t hang out with.”

- With a look that Bucky can’t quite place, but that makes his stomach clench and heat pool in his chest, Rogers leaned forward on his motorcycle, his skin-tight jeans stretching across the swell of his ass, and there was a small upwards curl of the corner of his lip when he caught Bucky’s eyes darting back and forth. Rogers cocked his head to the side slightly. “And what do you think?”

- In hesitant response, Bucky shrugged a little, licking his lips before he answered. “I think you look really good in that leather jacket.”

- Rogers grins, and Bucky denies what that does to him. “Hop on. I won’t set you off at your porch if you feel uncomfortable with that, but at least let me take you to the right street.”

- Bucky gives in. How can he not? He gives Rogers the name of his street. Not too far away, but still quite the walk.

- Rogers invites him on his bike, and Bucky is nervous. His hands may be shaking, and his heart may be pounding in his throat but he denies all of it. He climbs onto the bike, behind Rogers, unsure where to put his hands to steady himself.

- A hand reaches back, grabbing one of his own, warm, a little rough, way bigger than Bucky’s. Then the hand put it around Rogers’ waist. Bucky had his hand on Rogers’ hip. “I’d hold on tight if I were you, speed bumps everywhere.”

- Like that, Bucky curls his arms around Rogers’ waist, his hands on Rogers’ abs and... wow.

- The motor roars to life. A boom of thunder explodes overhead and Bucky scoots a little closer to Rogers’  back, arms tighter. He felt a chuckle move through Rogers’ body. He pushes it out of his head.

- There were no speed bumps.

- When they reach Bucky’s street it’s raining steadily, with the occasional crackle of lightning and roar of thunder. His hands gripped Rogers’ jacket, cheek pressed against Rogers’ back, eyes closed as they swayed across the roads. Then it’s time to step off. Bucky doesn’t really want to. He’s cold and wet, but Rogers is big and warm. He does anyway.

- Before he can leave, Rogers takes something out of the pocket of his jacket. A piece of paper. He presses it into Bucky’s hands.

- “For if you ever need a ride,” Rogers says, speaking up over the rain, “Or if you need anything else.” Rogers winked, tip of his tongue wetting that plush bottom lip, and Bucky gulped.

- A phone number. He gripped the piece of paper tightly. Cupping it in his hands so it would not get wet.

- “Thank you,” he breathed, unable to keep his eyes off Rogers. Hair damp with rain, silver droplets clinging to those long eyelashes that fanned across his skin. His shirt must be plastered to his skin. Bucky wanted to see that.

- “No problem,” Rogers answered, before he drove off.

- He stood there for a few more minutes, frozen in the rain, until a large droplet rolled down his neck and he was shaken out of his stupor. He goes to his house. Blinking slowly. Inside, he uncups his hands and looks at the piece of paper. At the number. For him. For if he ever needs anything.

- Bucky could think of something. He calls the next day. Needing another ride to a place he hadn’t planned to go to before. He doesn’t even need to be there, not really. But he wants Rogers- Steve, he wants Steve to bring him. 

- Maybe the old town folk don’t agree with it, but damn did Bucky love to wrap his arms around Steve’s waist when they drove. 

- Then, Steve called him ‘baby’, though it might have been a slip-up. 

- Bucky decides he likes that. 

- Steve got a bunch of punk friends in a bar. They’re all surprisingly nice and easy to hang out with. 

- When Bucky got approached by an asshole that smelled of beer and cigarettes, Steve had wrapped his arm around Bucky’s waist and called him his. Bucky was Steve’s. And yeah, Bucky was pretty much sold at that point. 

- Cue Steve driving Bucky everywhere, holding him close, calling him his own, and baby and baby boy, and Bucky is relishing in the attention. The guys who used to tease him for dancing now don’t even dare to look at him anymore. Steve’s scared them all off. 

- And maybe Steve gets jealous sometimes, when someone approaches Bucky or tries to make a move on him, Bucky only thinks it’s adorable, and he gets a good fuck out of it too, because Steve’s gotta mark his territory, right? Make sure Bucky knows who he belongs to, and that Steve could give him anything he wants. 

- Hickeys.

- Bike sex (luckily, Bucky is very flexible after years of dancing)

- Steve lends Bucky his jacket when Bucky’s cold. 

- And then coos all over him because his baby looks so smol in that jacket.

- Bucky sits on Steve’s lap and it fits so well, and whenever someone gets boring Steve just nuzzles Bucky’s neck and peppers his baby with soft kisses that make Bucky giggle and sigh in contentment, which eventually just makes the boring person leave. 

- It works every time. 

- Sam says they should get a room for that shit. 

- “We will, Sam, we will.”

- Overall, Bucky is his cute baby princess, who loves to steal Steve’s clothes, but Steve doesn’t mind because they make his baby look so cuddleable and soft, and maybe the town elders scoff at them but where Steve used to flip them off alone, Bucky now flips them off too (they’re a bunch of homophobic assholes, no respect there). 

That’s all I can think of for now I hope that satisfied your needs for some more Biker!Steve👀

[jamesashtonisbae]

She Sets the City on Fire Part 4

She Sets the City on Fire Part 4

Word Count: 1408

Pairing: Logan x MC; Colt x MC 

Book: Ride or Die

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Probably swearing

Summary: Aleigha is a good girl gone bad.  She’s going to try to keep both parts of herself.  

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, Pixelberry studios does!

Author’s Note: This flew off my fingers and is one of my favorite ideas I’ve had.  I love good girl gone bad Aleigha. 

Tagging: @desiree---1986 because she is my ROD encourager. Also @brightpinkpeppercorn and @princessstellaris because 100 years ago (June or July) when I wrote a Logan x MC fic they were so kind to comment and ask to be put on a tag list! And @mskaneko and @mindlesschicca and @lovemychoices! And my best reader @burnsoslow!

Aleigha rolled over into the sunbeam streaking through Logan’s windows.  She turned her face into her pillow.  Logan sighed softly and rolled back over to take her in his arms.

“Lo, I have to go.  I’m surprised that no one has come and gotten you yet.  Logan, I love you and I want to spend every single second with you, but I can’t do that if you’re in jail.  Tell me where your car is and we’ll go.”

As she was saying that to him, she jumped out of bed and grabbed her clothes.  She was tugging on her pants when Logan grabbed her wrist.

“Aleigha, I can’t let you go.”

“I’m not the one going.  I have to let you go.  I don’t want to, but I love you and I know if I love you I have to let you go.”

He leaned down and kissed her, “I’ll never forget you, Leigh.”

“I know you won’t.  This isn’t goodbye forever.  Now let’s go.”

She leaned down and grabbed the shirt he had been wearing and threw it on.  He glanced over at her, raising an eyebrow, “What am I supposed to wear?”

She laughed, “My shirt?”

He cracked up and kissed her, “I think I have an extra shirt I can grab.  One sec.”

“Okay, but I want to keep this one.  It still smells like you.”

He had walked into the bathroom to throw some things in a bag, but he turned back to look out at her.  They exchanged an entire conversation in that one glance.  There was fear, there was love, there was joy, there was excitement, there was sadness.  Every feeling came from the knowledge that there wouldn’t be any moments after this one.  Not for a long time.

She gathered her clothes and grabbed her keys, calling out to Logan, “Let’s go.  Now.”

He picked up his duffel bag, and said, “I have to take the key back to the lobby.”

“Logan, we don’t have time.  What are they going to do to you?  You paid in cash, you used a fake name, just leave the door unlocked with the key in here on the dresser and they’ll find it when they come to clean it.  We have to go, now.”

“Aleigha, it’s fine.”

“Logan!  You don’t understand, I’m being followed.”

“Aleigha.  Don’t worry.”

“Why are you so calm about this?”

“I have been on the run my whole life, I’m not going to get caught.”

“Logan, you cannot get cocky.  We cannot get too cocky.”

“I’m not, Leigh.  I’m ready.”

She sighed, “Okay.  Can we please go, though?”

“Why don’t you want to spend time with me?”

“Logan, I have another race tonight.  I have three assignments to finish for Monday.  If I could just spend my life riding around in a car with you, I probably would.  But that’s not our reality.  When it is, then you can ask me that question.  But right now, it’s not a want thing, okay?”

She reached for the doorknob, but hesitated when she didn’t hear a response.  When she turned around, Logan was sitting on the bed with his head in his hands.  As impatient as she was, she threw a quick glance out to see if there were any strange cars, and when she was satisfied that there weren’t, she sat back down next to Logan.

Without hesitation, she took him into her arms and held him gently.  Tears were streaming down his face, and soon they were both crying.  Aleigha gently took his face in her hands and turned him to make eye contact with her.

“Logan…” she kissed him gently, “You cannot break down.  Or I will too.”

He sighed softly, “Aleigha.  I have nothing in life without you.”

Her heart broke for him.  She knew he loved her, and she loved him, but she could never fathom just how much he loved her.  She had Colt who loved her, and who she loved in return, and platonically she had so many people in her life.  And she had her dad, regardless of how solid their relationship was, he would always love her.  Logan had her.  And she knew she couldn’t wrap her mind around how much he needed her.  He needed her.

“Logan…” she took his hands in hers.  They kissed softly, and she leaned into him, letting him put all of his weight on her.  “Let’s figure it out then.  You write down my phone number, don’t lose it, and get burners.  We’ll make a plan.  I don’t want to lose you either.”

“I love you, Leigh.”

“I love you, too.”

“I don’t have some beautiful speech to say goodbye to you this time, Leigh,” he sighed, his voice shaking.  He looked down at her, and she remembered when he told her that he was just a rock in space lucky enough to burn up in her atmosphere.  She remembered she was the one who had cried last time, and she had to say, she preferred being the one not crying.

In the back of her mind, she knew they needed to go now or they would have no chance at a future because one of them would be in jail, and she just could not have that. 

Logan collected himself, then looked over at her.  With a sigh, he rose and took her hand, “Let’s get the hell outta Dodge.”

They grabbed each other’s hands and rushed out to her car.  Logan took her phone and punched in an address.  She followed the instructions.  Neither of them spoke.  They couldn’t afford to say anything.  Words were hollow in the moments before a painful goodbye.

So, they didn’t say anything.  She dropped him off at the location, not giving herself the chance to take in where they were.  She deleted the address quickly, then scrubbed her search history.  Her location was already off, it was always off.

Logan reached for the handle and turned to her. 

“Bye, Leigh,” he leaned over and kissed her softly.  They both knew if they took more time to say goodbye, they’d break.

“I’m glad we got a little bit of time together, Logan,” she smiled and kissed him back.

Logan smiled softly but the tear streaming down his cheek betrayed his smile, “I could have a hundred years with you, and it would never be enough.”

“I love you, Logan…” she leaned up and kissed him.  “Please go or I won’t be able to let you.  If I spend another second with you, I’ll fall apart when you go.”

He reached over and squeezed her hand, “I love you, too Leigh.”

“Now go.  Go on.  Get out of here,” she said, shoving him away gently, steeling herself from all of the crying she wanted to do.

“Are you White-Fanging me?” Logan broke the somber moment with a chuckle.  He opened the door and got out, not giving her the chance to respond. 

She leaned her head on her steering wheel as he walked away.  When his car started up and he drove away, she knew because she heard it start up and heard its tires squeal.  Sobs began wracking her body as she clutched the steering wheel tightly. 

Logan brought her into this life.  She found herself when she started driving cars, and Logan was by her side every step of the way.  Without Logan she wouldn’t be the person she was today.  He helped her become more confident, he made her think smarter, not harder like she had her whole life, he taught her how to let go and be free.  Before him, her life was just about school, making grades, and getting into college.  But there was a lot she was missing out on.  Maybe it wasn’t just partying and driving fast cars and making out with hot boys, but maybe it was.

She pulled herself out of it and sat up, knowing she needed to be ready for her race tonight.  Thoughts of Logan would distract her and if she didn’t race well, she wouldn’t get on a crew and her entire plan would fall apart.  She would fall apart.

When she finally collected herself, she noticed the piece of paper under her windshield wiper.  Every part of her knew she shouldn’t get out of her car to grab it, but she did anyway.  She didn’t recognize the writing that had scrawled, “7:30 pm. Roxbury McDonald’s parking lot.”

[luckysparrowffxiv]

Hi again! I apologize if this is a silly question or if it’s been answered before, but would you be able to provide a tutorial or tips on how you set up your performance macros? If you have any resources for it, that would be super helpful. Thanks again! 💖

Hello there!

This is not a silly question at all, and we’ve not had it asked before here, so we definitely don’t mind trying to answer- though before we do, we’d just like to say that there are many different ways to approach performing, not only what we’ll mention, and each have pros and cons, so we encourage you to explore and find one that suits you and your character best. Perhaps our followers can add to this post and add their approaches and experiences?

We mostly focus on timed musical macros. Let’s try to break this down.

1. Music streaming:The idea is to have the emotes run at the same time as the music. For this, you’ll need an account on a video synchronizing site, such as cytube or plug dj for example, which make sure the video is starting at the same time for everyone. Both of these sites are free, and there are others as well - we encourage you to have a look which fits your needs better.Tip: Whatever you use, turn the quality of the video to the lowest possible when performing, and encourage others to do so; makes for less delay!

2. Lyric timing:Once you have the song and the sync streaming sorted, it’s time to bunker down and get to coding. This might be a lengthy process, so try to reserve some time for this. Get your video up and open a text inserting programs such as notepad, or google docs. Listen closely to your lyrics and write down at exactly which second they come up.Example:

Tip: If there are big instrumental breaks, you can try to make notes of those too!Tip2: If you’re not using Google Docs; SAVE the file. Speaking as someone who lost macros and hours of work due to not saving… XD

3. Macro coding:Once you’ve got the timestamp of everything down, it’s time to format the lyrics into the FFXIV macro system. This is a step that has many approaches to it, of course, and many commands can be used. You can see all the commands FFXIV supports here.Essentially though, you’ll want to add a /y command before every line you wish your character to sing, and round the line up with a “wait” command in order to tell the macro how long you wish of it to wait before sending the next command line out. This is what you needed the timestamps for!Example:

You can now delete the timestamps and everything before the “/” symbol. And save again.Tip: /y or /yell lines get repressed if they’re less than 2 seconds apart, so be mindful of that when coding and combine lines if you have to.Tip2: Wait timers can go as low as or 0.25 seconds but depending on ping, venue complexity or crowd size, they tend to round up or down to a full second. So, for versatility issues, we suggest you stick to full seconds if possible.Tip3: A good thing to keep in mind is to replace lyrics where they don’t fit the FFXIV universe. Minutes are measures, hours are bells, days are suns, inches are ilms, miles are malms etc.

4: Macro making:It is finally time to paste your hard work into the game. To do this, you will need to open the “System” menu and choose “User Macros”.

You’ll see a panel with a lot of numbers. Choose a free one and paste the code you made into the big field. You can choose an icon and add a name that will help you remember when to press it during the song:

Tip: Each macro has only 15 lines. You will want to later add emotes between your lyrics which will take a line of their own each, so I suggest not pasting more than 7 lyric lines in each macro.Tip2: Number your macros in sequence, makes them easier to follow!Tip3: The most important macro you’ll ever make is the macro that cancels other macros. This is your go-to “oh shit” button. It looks like this:

Essentially, any macro will cancel other macros, but this one has a non-showing command that will just stop the macro currently running. You might need this if you accidentally press a macro you didn’t mean to press. Macros aren’t emotes so… they’ll just keep going until they’re either done or cancelled so this one is super important! So much so that I have it at the ready at all times.

5. Timing Testing:Once you have all the lyrics in their respective macros, click the macro icons on the left and drag them onto a clear skill bar to make things easier for yourself. It should look something like:

Now, load your song in a prefered sync streaming service that you made in step 1, find a secluded spot (FC room, apartment, barracks etc) and try to press your macros to the song, testing if your timing needs adjustments. There might be some loading issues or half seconds you’ll wish to round up or down? This is the “tweak until satisfied” part.Tip: Keep your Cancel Macro at the ready to stop the macro if you notice it needs adjustments.Tip2: Macro changes save automatically as soon as you click away from them, so make sure you click away before retrying it.

6: Emotes:This is the creative part, but one with a bit of a learning curve - one that gets easier as you go. Take your time familiarizing yourself with how the emotes look and how long they are. You can add emotes to specific lyrics in a row before the lyric, like so:

There are other ways to format to achieve the same result, of course. Fiddle around with emotes and try them to the music until you like the result.Tip: Let your fantasy go wild! Check all the commands supported and go wild! Experiment and try new things.

7: Preparations and performing:Your first few macros might take some practice to get right, so make sure you’re feeling confident you can run them okay. Stage fright is, even behind a screen to shield you, still, a butterfly-inducing experience that, in many cases, never goes away. Take your time, perhaps turn your camera to face your character as you practice so that, when you perform and do the same you won’t see the audience and it might make you less nervous.Tip: Drag an emote of your choice on your bar as well to have it handy. We all mess up, perhaps forget to press a macro or press the wrong one. If that happens - don’t panic. Just click Cancel Macro (told you it’s a life saver!) and press your emote of choice. You’ll catch up on the next macro and it’s going to be okay, I promise. Most people don’t even notice, but if they do; no one will judge you for messing up or being nervous, we’ve all been there!

8: Macro Archiving:Computers crash, need to be formatted, or maybe you just need to use a different computer - so it is a good idea to save macros externally from the game not to lose them. This is where Google Docs, Dropbox or a private discord server might come in handy!Tip: Another way to save your macros is to upload your character to the server every time after you’ve finished a macro, but the more versions of the saved macro you have, the less of a chance to lose hours, if not days of hard work.

9: Take care of yourself!Whether you’re macroing, practising or performing; they’re all tasks that can take a long time. Don’t forget to keep hydrated, fix your posture and rest enough (tips I need to remember too…)!

I think that’s the gist of it? If anyone would like to add tips, please do as I’m sure I didn’t cover everything… but I hope this helps you, friend. Happy macroing, I can’t wait to see what you make!

Stay lucky! 🍀 ♥Inay @x-inay

PS: I wrote “speker” lol… I was in a hurry, try not to judge me… so here’s a tip #10 for the rest of you dyslexics out there macroing; have a friend proofread! ♥

[stevesharrlngtons]

“No I’m killing boys” with robin please ☺️

no i’m killing boys

ok listen, im not sure if i like this or if it’s good (it feels really rushed :/) but i wanted to try something new! if it’s shit, it’s shit. but idk. might delete. this is just me back pedaling in case it is really really awful!

feedback is greatly appreciated tho!

Hunched over her desk with tired eyes, Robin continued to review the files in front of her. The text was beginning to sway and spot on the page, and she knew she needed to call it a night sooner or later, or she’d end up sleeping at her desk again. The following day’s crick in her neck and worn wrinkled blouse always put her off her rhythm. She desperately tried to not make it a habit, but it always seemed to happen. Especially when it came to this case.

They had no leads. No suspects. No motive. Just sporadic killings and an increasing number of dead bodies piling up.

It had been close to a year of this killer’s reign of terror. Sometimes three murders would happen in the span of a week, sometimes there was no victim of months. The perp was either extremely cunning or clinically insane. The only consistencies in all the cases were that the victims were all men ranging from early twenties to late sixties, it seemed no was was kept off this perp’s list. And that they all had a small circular puncture wound on the right side of their throat. The lab had yet to figure out what made the hole, and the detectives had yet to find out the significance.

When Robin’s eyes became sandy and burned with fatigue, she finally conceded her research for the night and decided to turn in. She gathered her things sluggishly and headed for the subway station.

Her mind was still reeling as she stood on the platform, doing her best to connect the any dots in her mind. To think of who the unsub could be, what job could they have, what past were they hiding, were there any clues she missed? She’d have to go over the facts with Henderson tomorrow, he always had a knack for those seeing eye posters.

The train came barreling in and pulled Robin from her theories. She boarded the thinly occupied car and took a seat by the doors, wanting to exit as soon as possible when she arrived at her stop. She rested her head on her shoulder and hoped the rushing movement of the train would lull her to some relaxation. Right as the doors were about to close, a person skid into the car and quickly took a seat across from her, breathing heavily.

Robin, ever the detective, glanced over at the car’s new occupant as discreetly as possible to size them up for any danger. Skilled law enforcement officer or not, she was still a woman on the subway at night.

She was pleasantly surprised to find a particularly attractive woman was the addition to her ride. From the looks of it, she was likely leaving (or going to) a fancy gathering. She wore a thick trench coat over a thin, tight white dress and tights. Her (Y/H/C) locks were swept up in an elegant updo, pieces having fallen around her face from her brisk jog onto the train, and the fierce New York wind no doubt.

Robin subtly admired the woman the woman for the remainder of the ride, doing her best not to stare too long. But it was hard, she was enthralling to look at. She continued to steal glances at the woman until the train stopped and she rose from her seat. She dusted off her jacket and headed toward the exit and Robin as well.

Robin did her best to ignore the fluttering in her chest as the woman neared, and felt her breathing stop as she briefly paused before Robin.

“I think you’re cute too.” She said in a melodic voice, one that made Robin melt, and sent her a wink before exiting the train.

A fucking wink!

And then she was gone.

Robin was glad she was finally alone on the subway as she blushed something fierce and grinned like a teenager.

Robin continued to run into her subway crush.

Each time late in the evening. Each time with the woman in a new persona. One day she was dressed like an Upper East Side wife, the next a rocker chick, the day after that like a french painter, but every time wearing a lovely pair of heels that made her legs look like they went on for miles.

Each time their eyes would meet across the narrow aisle, sending flirty smiles, heated gazes and light conversation. About the weather, the subway, New York neighborhoods and the best place for a late night bite.

Robin began to eagerly look forward to night where she would meet her. Where she could feel the juvenile exuberance of harmless flirting and being in her presence. Robin no longer dreaded late nights at the precinct or taking on extra case loads, because that meant she had a better chance of running into her. Every time they met, Robin considered asking for her number, or to follow her to a pizza place by her apartment for a snack, but always chickened out.

She knew she needed to soon though, she was testing the fates everytime she didn’t. Because one day Robin knew she’d board the train home and the woman would be gone.

Late one evening, as Robin drank gritty cold coffee and poured over a new case file, her phone rang.    

“Buckley,” She answered gruffly, holding the receiver between her cheek and shoulder.

“It’s Henderson. You need to get down to Chelsea, there was another murder.”

Dustin didn’t need to specify any more than that. Robin knew, this was one of theirs, another photo to add to the growing pile in a filing cabinet.

She got the address from her partner and left the station in a hurry. When she arrived, there was yellow tape sectioning of the sidewalk and officers mulling all around. Civilians were trying to peak over the barricades to get a peek at the newest victim, but were mostly thwarted. Robin pushed right by them with no sympathy and marched toward Dustin, who was talking to another detective. Two paramedics were beside them, zipping up a large black body bag. Robin felt her stomach churn as she caught a glimpse of the corpse’s mangled appearance.

“Any leads?” Robin broke up Dustin and Steve’s conversation.

“Nothing out of the ordinary for their MO so far,” Dustin said, dejectedly, “We won’t know more until the autopsy is finished.”

“But they killed out in the open this time, maybe they're getting sloppy.” Steve offered.

Robin only sighed deeply in reply and left the two men to go speak with the crime scene photographers and paramedics. They told her much of the same. No evidence so far, the murder was done in the open, but with no witnesses, the victim was a 34 year old man with a small circular puncture in his neck.    

Robin felt more angry and hopeless with every person she talked to at the scene, and she could tell morale falling amongst her colleagues too. It seemed with every murder, they got father away from any resolution.

Leaving to take a minute to herself, Robin stood a few meters from the others, looking at the big picture. Hoping and praying it would help her see things in a different light. When she was a child and lost a toy on the floor, she’d stand up to get a better viewpoint, to see all the angles, nooks, crannies and obstructions. She always found the toy in the end, and she knew now that if she looked hard enough, she could do it again.

“Lotta people turned out.” Someone hummed over her shoulder, breaking her concentration.

Robin glanced to see who it was, and did a double take. Because there, standing in a large winter jacket and eclectic make up was her, the subway woman. Red and blue light illuminating her (Y/S/C) skin and graceful features.

“Wh-what?”

“Lotta people turned out to take a look at that guy.”

“Well, it was gruesome. People are fascinated by the morbid, I’ve found.” Robin spoke candidly, still in shock that she was here, and oh so close.

“What about you, detective? Are you fascinated by the morbid?” She proposed with a slight pull of her lips.

“I would say I’m fascinated with why people do morbid things.”

“I stopped wondering that a long time ago.” You sighed.

Robin was too lost in her (Y/E/C) eyes to get another word out. All she kept thinking was about how beautiful she was, how close, how good she smelled, and how this was her chance! It was fate that you’d meet her of all places!

A crime scene…

And then Robin’s analytical, paranoid brain overpowered her lovesick one.

She readjusted her look at the woman next to her, taking off her rose colored glasses and actually seeing the person who she had a knack for running into.

She was gazing toward the ambulance, a satisfied smile on her face, an ease to her expression. Her body was calm and her hands were stuffed in her jacket pockets. Robin continued her inspection down her body, her toned legs and too her feet, which were stuffed in her signature pair of expensive black heels.

Black stilettos with the unmistakable dot of coppery red.  

And it clicked. This wasn’t a coincidence, this wasn’t fate. This was a clinically insane and likely cunning person who had been terrorizing New York City. The constant changing appearances, the woman’s fascination with her, the reason she was always out late (matching the timeline of when bodies would appear) her fucking being here now! All this time her partners had theorized that the hole in the men’s necks was some sort of pen or hole punch, but Robin was never convinced. And she was right, it wasn’t a pen or hole punch, it was a fucking heel.

Robin snapped her head up and felt her breathing pause when she saw the woman was already looking at her.

“Is it…?”

She just stood there, an easy smile on her lips and shrugged.

Robin cursed, and grabbed her arm tightly and dragged her toward a nearby ally. She pushed the woman roughly against the wall and all she did was giggle.

“Didn’t know you liked it rough, Detective Buckley.” She teased.

Robin’s jaw clenched. She wasn’t wearing a name tag and she knew for a fact she hadn’t told her her name.

“Start talking, now!” Robin snarled.

The woman’s eyes widened slightly, and she pressed her thighs together for a moment.

“About what exactly?” She grinned, reaching out to play with the lapels of Robin’s coat.

Robin smacked her hands away, “Oh, I don’t know, maybe the fucking people you’ve be murdering!”

“I’m not killing people, I’m killing boys.” She said very matter a fact.

“Same difference.”

“Not really. Men beat us, they use us, abuse us, take advantage of us, kill us. And that happens? Nothing. Nothing of what they deserve anyway.”

“You’re crazy.” Robin took a step back, shaking her head.

“About you, maybe.”

“Excuse me?”

“Our little rendezvous. They weren’t just for me to learn more about you and this case. I saw you in the paper after a drug bust you orcashracted, and I was instantly attracted to you. This was never a one sided thing, y’know.”

“Well it is now!” Robin said in a harsh whisper.

“It doesn’t have to be,” The woman pushed off the wall and closed the distance between them.

“I can’t be involved with a killer!” Robin’s body language disproved her words as she let the woman come closer.

“No one will know. Because you guys will never catch me. Accept that, it’s ok. I’m better at this than you could ever prove. So, why don’t we just pick up where we left off? Flirting on the G train at midnight... and maybe we could take it a bit further?”

Robin did her best to not let the woman affect her, but her smooth hands and intoxicating perfume we’re waning on her resistance.

“We will catch you, we have, I have. I’ll arrest you right now.”

“No you won’t.”

“Then I’ll tell someone.”

“Wrong again,” She moved to grip Robin’s wrists and place them on her hips, “Because you have no evidence. No one saw me talk to you, no one saw me here. I have no motive, no connection, no weapons. And no one even knows about me right? I pegged you for the secretive type.”

Robin felt her blood boil with fury and her skin heat with arousal.

“I have your shoe. We’ll run the blood on it and match it to the victim.” Robin said through labored breaths.

You hummed out a pouty moan, “You really think I don’t already have a lie ready for that? An alibi or two on top of that?”

Robin didn’t reply.

“So why make this harder for both of us? Let’s just have some fun.” Her lips brushed against Robin’s, who sincerely thought she might have a heart attack if this woman pressed another kiss to her mouth.

“What’s the crime in having some fun?”

She wanted to answer, to tell her to go to hell, to arrest her, to crash her lips to hers and take her in the dirty alley.

But before Robin could decide, someone called her name.

“Buckley? Where’d you run off too?”

She felt the woman pull away and all she wanted was to grab her again.

“Just a minute!” She shouted back to whoever needed her.

“Listen, just tell me-” But she cut her off with a mind numbing kiss.

One that you write about in books and think of at night when you can’t sleep, the kind of kiss that you compare to every other kiss you’ve ever had. Robin felt the woman’s hands ghost over her cheeks, and then her touch was gone.

“Buckley, the hell you doin’?” Harrington asked.

Robin slowly opened her eyes, only to see she had disappeared down the alleyway and out of sight and suspicion.

“Uh, I was just taking a moment.” She cleared her throat and did her best to regain her composure before she turned to face her colleague.

When she did, Steve chuckled, “A moment to put lipstick on at a crime scene? Hopin’ to pick up one of the murder groupies who hang around at the tape?”

Robin swiped a finger over her lips and there she was, leaving your calling card and her affection in bright red. Her skin erupted in goosebumps.

“At least  I can pick up women, Harrington.” Robin tried to play off the moment as casually as possible.

“Piss off.”

“You first, now go to your job.”

Steve grumbled and walked back toward the crime scene, Robin on his tail as she rubbed the transferred lipstick smudge between her fingers and shamefully wondered if she’d find her again.

[yourultraarchive]

Reply to @prurientpuddlejumper​ on this ask:

I’m sorry you’re frustrated or if I offended you somehow, but to be frank I don’t appreciate the tone you’re using here. However, to answer you anyway:

> they def meant the links to these alleged "online generators," because I am in the same boat as anon

First of all, unless you ARE that anon, I don’t think you can say they “def” meant anything, since they never came back to clarify, and I did try my best to answer them the first time, and I seemed to have helped since they didn’t come back to report any problems with my answer.

Second of all, “alleged”? That’s very rude. Just because you cannot see them on tumblr mobile, does not mean they do not exist. Plenty of other people have used them just fine, as evidenced by the many posts submitted to this blog. And as the last two people who’ve asked about mobile access before never came back with problems, I can only assume they simply went on the desktop site to use the generators instead of accusing me that it’s not accessible at all.

>  post after post about how you updated the UI or whatnot with no link to the thing you updated

It was only two posts (so far anyway), and if you read them closely, you may have noticed I said I was only working on new updates, that they weren’t done, and that they aren’t out yet. And also that “the current generators are still up” so that people have a fully functional version of the generator to use, even if it’s not as pretty as the update is going to be. So no, there is no “link to the thing I updated”, because it’s not done yet. And as the point of the post was about the updates-to-come, I saw no need to promote a link to the generators that are currently available. Seeing as you want that though, I shall go correct those posts and link it, for your and future readers’ convenience.

I apologize for the misunderstanding, if I wasn’t clear enough about the updates being a work-in-progress. I was just trying to update my actual followers (of which I noticed that you are not one) that I was working on stuff, since this blog is usually pretty quiet.

> I REALLY wanna see it, and am growing increasingly frustrated about how much work you're pouring into this *thing* without giving mobile users any way to *access it*.

Again, I’m sorry this is frustrating to you, and you do bring up some legitimate feedback about the mobile accessibility. As I mentioned, I’ve answered at least two asks about this issue before, but since it’s been a few years and phones have definitely gotten more powerful I can look into developing a proper mobile version. But a lot of issues come up with making a mobile version, namely UI and responsive design (because I’d have to account for both vertical and horizontal orientation, and again I reiterate that UI design is hard), dynamic coding/image generation/data input/font importing and styling/etc., and how to save the actual generated image or at the very least the export/import save data for later use on a desktop browser. It takes a lot of work (more than most people realize, I imagine), so if you would like to help with that, let me know, otherwise you have no right to shame me for not making a mobile version, taking my time, or doing any of this.

As it is, you can actually still access the generator on mobile, just not tumblr mobile. You just have to go to a browser on your phone (there’s a reason my URL is so simple). However, as mentioned above, the template was not designed with mobile in mind, so all the fonts and effects and arrangement on the template itself just looks... not like it’s supposed to. Which, again, is part of the issue with the design, but at least you can access it on mobile, against your claims that you cannot.

Also, I mainly made this a desktop site because of how large the dimensions of the template are, in order to make sure the text is visible/legible even in the downsized preview image. Even when I view the template on my phone, I have to zoom in a lot, and with the current live version of the online generators, it would have made scrolling around to input data annoying. The PSDs, as well, would be inaccessible on mobile as far as I know (if Photoshop Mobile has improved enough to handle all the layers, masks, and effects, I’m unaware) so it was a conscious decision to make this whole thing desktop-only when I first started this blog several years ago.

> Even the "downloads" link you just shared just redirects back to this same page. Which is probably because you've hidden all the links away in "pages" which are completely invisible and inaccessible on the mobile app

It’s very much tumblr’s fault, and I really should have thought of that at first, but again, it was a conscious decision to make this a desktop site. Even if I made rebloggable/viewable posts with the links in them (which I plan to do soon, if only to satisfy mobile users like you), only the PSD download links would work (but again, not sure how well downloading PSDs work on mobile devices), as the tumblr app will still loop back to the blog, since the online generator is still one of those blog “pages”. And that is not changing for as long as I don’t have the time or money to host it on its own domain.

I can’t change the fact that tumblr mobile doesn’t automatically open blog pages in an external browser, so the only solution I can offer you is to take the extra step to copy the url and go into your mobile device’s actual internet browser, or just go to your browser and type in my URL manually.

If you actually couldn’t access the templates at all (which should not be an issue if you “REALLY wanna see it” given that not only did I offer you explanations and solutions for the tumblr app problem, but also that it IS accessible on desktop and you reasonably could have just gone on a computer) or had any other problem with them, I have made no stranger of myself and have always been open to help people. They have been polite or nice when they do talk to me, and I’ve always tried to be cordial in return. Your feedback is legitimate, and I appreciate it, but you really could have worded your implied suggestion a little better. And to be quite honest, I was offended by the rudeness of your reply, especially when you called my hard work a “*thing*”. Those asterisks imply a very negative tone, in case you weren’t aware.

I get the impression that you think that your demand will be fulfilled right away if you make enough fuss about it, but I’m not going to be manipulated or guilt-tripped because you feel bad. Maybe you don’t mean it that way, but you can “grow increasingly frustrated” all you want, because not only am I working on this for free, on my free time, and by myself, but I am also not doing this for you. You’re right that I am pouring a lot of work into this, as much work as any fan artist or fanfiction writer will put into their own works, and I’m very proud of it (both as it is now and what it will be in the future) and I have fun working on it, but this is not my job. And you’re not paying for a service.

I’m not working for anyone, and I have no reason to have made more than I originally did--originally I only made the student template PSDs for some friends, and the generator (which seems to be my most popular template, even though my original focus was on the PSDs) only came about because one of my friends didn’t have Photoshop. And I wasn’t even going to release either of them to the public, but I did, and the villain ones came over a year later because of this blog and the people who follow it. No one asked for a user interface update (in fact, more people have asked for a pro hero template), but I’m doing it anyway because I can and I want to. That’s all this boils down to. Also my free time (if you hadn’t noticed, everything on my blog runs on a queue, and when I do queue stuff it’s usually like 3am or so--including right now... it’s currently 5am actually) and motivation (I’m well aware of how few people actually use the templates compared to how many people follow and reblog the posts, and honestly it’s a little discouraging). So if I do make a mobile version, be aware that it won’t be coming out for a very long time. (Also, I think you’re the only one in several years who has complained about it, and you are literally 1 in... what, 3000+ people? Judging by the number of notes on the original post I made when I started the blog and my current number of followers. And again, you’re not even one of them. So to be honest, I’m really not motivated to work on this quickly.)

If you want it faster? Being nice when you show your interest helps, it’s how I got encouraged to make the villain templates. Though I never asked for much other than patience. Or at the very least, the respect any fandom content creator deserves--I may not be cranking out fanart daily or new chapters of a fanfiction weekly or anything, but I am still providing the fandom with something they can enjoy at no cost. And like reviews on fics or comments on art, many people have expressed that they’re grateful the templates and generators exist at all, unlike you, which is really the reason this blog continues to exist and the generators/templates to be updated with new and improved features. I could have just left my original template generator up there and abandoned it, but I know how it feels to find out a fanart you loved years ago was deleted or a really good fanfic was discontinued. So I’ll continue to work on it, and yes I’ll put mobile compatibility for the generators on my to-do list, but I’ll do it at my own pace.

Also I’m not making money off of this, but hey, if you wanna give me incentive that way, hop into my DMs or something and we’ll talk, but I’ve never asked for donations or anything and I don’t plan to. The generators and templates are free for use, and most of that is because of tumblr, which gave it a platform and a home. If I hosted it on its own domain, I’d need a means to pay for that, and I’m personally not invested enough to do that when tumblr is free and works well enough.

If you or anyone else wants to help change that, come talk to me, the ask box is always open.

Otherwise, please visit this blog page on a desktop browser or at the very least something that isn’t just the tumblr mobile app, because nothing can be done about mobile compatibility right now, and I’d hate for you to miss out on seeing the templates. Hopefully I can look forward to whatever you will create with it.

-archivist