#also weirdly enough the second 2 songs i don’t really listen to all that much

[churchoftheconfusedchicken]

16, 32, 64 for spotify wrapped game !!

16: to be alone with you - sufjan stevens

(i’d swim across lake michigan / i’d sell my shoes…to be alone with you)

32: 12am cereal - e.s.s.

(a love letter, nicely misspelled / in your locker by someone else)

64: gone (the pocahontas song) - ziggy alberts

(‘cause i don’t know if i want you to hear this song / would you sing along? would you turn it off or turn it up?)

[our-time-is-now]

September 13, 2019 (2): Surgery-playlist (part 2/5)

(previous play)

You can find more information about the authors, translators, content warning and additional information about the plays in the pinned post on our blog.  

Attention! This play includes transgender topics. For more details see our interjection.

PART 2/5

(...)

Matteo: *unwraps the anti-stress-ball and has to smile a little because it’s simply so perfect* *puts the empty cocoa-pack aside, which he used to fiddle around until now* *lets the ball roll through his hands and listens to the songs* *closes his eyes again and thinks about Hans and Linn and their irrevocable solidarity and friendship and family* *can feel how grateful he is that he has those people in his life and that David is a part of them*

ca. 10:10 am: David: Hmmm… I’m lying in /our/ bed right now in /our/ room… and it’s very weird without you. On the one hand I still find it a little weird that it’s /our/ room now… *laughs quietly*. I think I really still have to get used to that, which is also somehow weird, because I was already here pretty often, anyways. Being here doesn’t feel weird - weirdly enough. It feels like always. What's more strange is the thought that we won’t be at Laura’s and my apartment anymore every now and then. And that you’re not here, of course. When I think about how worried I was before… if it might not be too fast, after all… or if sitting on top of each other like that might not get too much… *grins slightly* ...since we haven’t been sitting on top of each other a lot before… what it’s like if there’s no place to retreat to if we get on each other’s nerves… since we got on each other’s nerves so often in the past and one of us was in constant need of a place to retreat to…

Matteo: *grins slightly because he had the exact same worries and because David is right, of course, because they never had that in the past, either* *thinks that so far, it also only felt right and good, even though he also misses David’s room*

David: *sighs quietly* And now… now that you’re not here… and now that we’ve been living together in our room for a week now, all those thoughts and fears suddenly seem completely redundant because I know exactly that it didn’t go too fast and because I know that it won’t get too much. *laughs quietly* Basically a second room already became redundant the moment we got together. Okay, back then, neither of us knew where this relationship was leading to… that we’ll really be /this/ kind of couple that really can’t stand being anywhere apart from each other… *laughs again quietly* ... but I think that it was obvious pretty quickly what we’re like. I think it’s so cool, Matteo. I’m so happy about the fact that we are the way we are. That we’re /both/ like this, that we want to have each other around. But sometimes I’m also a little scared that you’ll be fed up with it one day…

Matteo: *pffffs very loudly*

David: … that you’ll realize that you need more space, after all, that you no longer want to have me with you everywhere. I mean, that would be okay, somehow… I’d be able to deal with it somehow… and basically we also already have a few things every now and then that we do by ourselves… yes, okay, very rarely, but… I don’t know… those might be stupid thoughts… stupid fears. Maybe sometimes I also think that it fits so well between us that it’s actually too good to be true… that there’s something that’s still to come… *laughs quietly* Although… didn’t we once realize that we had to go through so much crap before we got together that now we’ll be left alone and happy for a few years because of that!? That would be nice…

Matteo: *nods immediately because he really believes this, but can also understand the insecurity because he feels just as insecure* *but rather imagines David one day having enough of him and finds it somehow surreal that David thinks the same about him*

David: But I was just sitting in the living room with Linn and Hans and we had hot chocolate - well Linn and I had hot chocolate and Hans had his tea. It was pretty cozy and fun but somehow you were really missing. Linn eventually made us sandwiches for dinner - that was really nice… *laughs quietly* She said that she’s worried that I won’t eat anything out of grief and missing you and that we’ll definitely have to eat breakfast together tomorrow. And Hans also offered again to take the day off next Friday to accompany me to the hospital… *you can hear him grin* ...I declined that offer again, of course. Then he offered to take off the entire week when I’ll come home from the hospital, but I also declined that. He said that you had to work and weren’t allowed to take even more time off but I told him that Alex, Jonas, Abdi, Kiki and Amira are still available and that there will surely be someone there to take care of me - especially since I really won’t need entertainment and care 24/7. I think if Hans would be around me all the time then this would really get too much at some point. Then he offered to take the day off on the day I come home from the hospital and that he’ll rent a car to pick me up and he wasn’t really thrilled when I told him that Alex will pick me up. *sighs quietly*

Matteo: *immediately grins and wonders if Alex and Hans will ever find their way to each other in this life or if it will be an eternal truce*

David: By the way, I’m already wearing my sleep clothes and I’m waiting for you to call. I’m dreading this night so much, Matteo. I’d just love to stay awake all night… that won’t get you back to me any sooner, either, but… no idea… to be honest, I don’t really remember how I used to sleep… without lying in your arms or without you lying in my arms… without me feeling that you’re there… *you can hear a phone vibrating quietly in the background and you can hear that David’s smiling when he says* Now you’re calling… I’ll be in touch again later…

Banners - Someone to you

Matteo: *listens to the song and thinks about how badly he slept without David and that it’s really unbelievable that they’ve actually only slept together for four months of their lives and that they didn’t do that all those years before and that they still can’t go without it anymore*

ca. 10:20 am: David: Hey… *you can hear that he’s still smiling* I don’t really want to say much more now - talking to you on the phone was so nice and it was so nice to hear your voice and I want to fall asleep with your voice still in my mind instead of my own voice. I want to get this first night without you over with, so that then it’ll be only one more that separates us. And in the current timeline it’s also only a few more hours until you are back with me again. You can now open envelope number 6… Sleep tight, Florenzi… and dream of us! I love you, don’t forget that! *there’s a four-part sketch in the next envelope. In the upper left-hand corner it shows Matteo in a single bed with his phone held to his ear with a thought bubble with David in it, in the upper right-hand corner there’s David in their bed in their room holding a phone to his ear with a thought bubble with Matteo in it - in between the sketches it says September 9, 10:32 pm. In the bottom left-hand corner there’s David on the operating table - again with a thought bubble with Matteo in it - and the bottom right-hand corner shows Matteo sitting on a park bench with headphones, cocoa and croissants with a thought bubble with David in it - between the sketches it says September 13, ca. 10:13 am (?) - between all four sketches in the middle there’s a heart in which it says: “And I’m always by your side, anyways”*

Philipp Poisel - Schweigen ist silber Billy Joel - Lullabye

Matteo: *stares at the sketch while he listens to the two songs and thinks that he’s like this almost always - that he actually always thinks about David when he’s not with him*

ca. 10:29 am: David: Good morning! *you can hear him smile* Now it’s… umm… 9:53 am and I’m celebrating a little much that we’ve managed to get through the first night without each other! I just got myself some coffee and met someone at the coffee machine who really urgently wanted to say “hello” to you, too! *you can hear some shuffling and then Laura’s voice* Laura: Hello Matteo, it’s Laura! I hope you’re doing good right now… and I hope that I’m also doing good right now! But probably not so much, because by the time you hear this I’ll be somewhere at work playing with the children, but my thoughts will be with David and his surgery, anyways. I know we’ve already talked about this and the way I know myself, I’ll surely mention it again three more times, but my phone is unmuted and if anything should go wrong with David, then please call me straight away, okay?

Matteo: *nods immediately and says quietly* And I’ll call you at quarter past 12…

*you can hear David’s groan in the background* David: But nothing will go wrong! Don’t invite trouble… Laura: Exactly, nothing will go wrong! But if anything should happen! And if anything should go wrong with you, then you can also call me, you hear? So in case you want to talk or in case you’re not doing so well or anything… in case I should help you pass the time… *you can hear David in the background again with a slight grin* David: Umm, well actually the point of this recording is for him to pass the time… Laura: Yes, but maybe he’ll get bored of your babbling at some point… David: Pfff… as if! Laura: Well Matteo, you know my offer still stands. My colleague also already knows that I’ll probably be a little beside myself on that day and that I might be on the phone during work… and at quarter past 12 it’s my lunch break, anyways. Hey, so you could actually definitely call me in between… the way I know David, he probably calculated all of this to the minute, anyways, and then he can quickly tell you to call me. At least then you can quickly tell me if you already heard any news… Is it allowed to call the hospital in between to ask how it’s going, David? David: No idea… well… I’ll give the nurses Matteo’s number and they’ll call him - in case of emergency… so not at all!

Matteo: *has to smile automatically at David’s unwavering optimism* *but then glances at the phone lying next to him, after all* *has it unmuted but puts it on his leg so that he’ll also be able to SEE if someone calls, in case he can’t hear it because of the recording*

Laura: Yes but can’t he call and ask if everything goes as planned? David: That’s embarrassing… Laura: I don’t think so… David: Man, Laura… Laura: What!? It’s normal that the loved ones worry, so why shouldn’t he be able to ask… David: Hmmm… no idea, but for all I care… I can call them and ask… Laura: Do that… so did you hear that, Matteo!? At 12:15, you first call the hospital and ask if everything goes according to plan and then you’ll call me… David: You guys are making way too big a deal out if this… that is making me nervous! Laura: So then you know how we feel… So… can you somehow calculate when it’s time and then tell Matteo? David *with a sigh*: Yes, I should manage somehow… Laura: Very good, then we’ve settled this. And I’ll immediately come by the hospital after work. I should be there at around half past four… David: And you’ve talked about this twice already, as well… Laura: Better be on the safe side… David *quietly in the background*: Laura, the point of this recording actually is to distract Mateo a little bit and to take away his fear and not to make him more nervous by adding additional fears… Laura: But maybe it also helps him to hear that he’s not alone with his fears… Oh, Matteo - now he’s giving me this punishing look! *you can hear her laugh*

Matteo: *hears her laugh and laughs along, because he knows exactly which look she just received* *then also has to think about the fact that David has said the exact same thing to Linn, as well, but that it’s something different if it’s your own sister*

Laura: You surely know that look…. okay, okay, I’ll tell him something nice! Umm… ok, I bought a new cookbook yesterday! I stumbled upon it, I actually only wanted to by a novel for a friend’s birthday, but the cookbook beamed at me so that I really had to take it with me - Dishes that change the world! *you can hear her laugh* Sounds good, right? So far, I only thumbed through it once, but I already noticed a few dishes that we really have to try together… maybe even on Thursday evening - as a little feast before the surgery… oh… hmmm… that sucks! If you hear this now, then I probably already showed you the cookbook… well, whatever… anyways… *you can hear Hans’ voice in the background, which is getting closer* Hans: Breakfast! Na, you sweethearts! Did you already have breakfast?! Oh, are we talking to Matteo again!? Hello, my butterfly! We miss you! And now I want breakfast! Are we having breakfast here in bed!? David: Umm, no! Laura: Oh yes, good idea! Hans: I’ll go wake up Linn… David: *groans* I’m not taken seriously, Matteo! I need you! Come back home quickly! Laura: *laughs* Oh come on, it’ll be fun! Matteo… by the way, I’m really proud of the two of you for getting over the first night spent apart without one of you fleeing to the other… Hans *in the background*: David was crying from yearning tonight! I heard it! David: That’s not true! Hans *closer now*: He just doesn’t want to admit it! Wants to act like a tough guy… that’s what he’s like, our butterfly-boyfriend! David: I thought you wanted to make breakfast?! Laura: Anyways… where was I!? Oh yes, anyways, I’m proud of you guys! It’s also a good exercise for when David will be in the hospital… Hans *from some distance again*: Matteo can ask them if he can get a bed in David’s room for this time… from a therapeutic point of view… Laura, coffee or tea? Laura: I already have coffee, thanks! David: But you can bring the pot… umm… Linn? *you can hear Laura laughing* David: Linn? *you can hear Linn murmur something and David groan* Laura: Okay… So Linn has just sleepwalked into your room and is now lying on your bed asleep once again… Linn *sleepy*: I’m not sleeping, I’m dreaming! Laura: Okay, she’s dreaming! That’s cute! David: I’ll stop the recording now… Laura: Why? It’s funny… this way, Matteo will be there even if he’s not here right now…

Matteo: *has to agree with Laura* *finds it really great that he can hear all of them and can really imagine all of them in their room*

David: Give me the laptop… Laura: No! David *groans*: Lauraaaa! Laura: *laughs* Hans: Linn, sweety, you have to move… otherwise we don’t have any space for the breakfast stuff. David *from some distance*: Matteo, we have to move out! You don’t have any privacy here! Hans: Don’t make such a big fuss, my sweety! You don’t need any privacy right now, because your sweetheart isn’t here, anyways… now be good and make yourself breakfast… oh no, Linn, don’t lie back down again… Laura: She needs coffee! Hans: Oh, I forgot the coffee pot! David *from the background*: Matteo, I’d love to spare you all of this and maybe tell you something nice, but the laptop is out of my reach between Laura and Linn and I’m completely powerless! Linn *sleepily*: Oh, are we talking to Matteo? Is he on the phone? Laura: No, we’re making a recording on the laptop for when David is in surgery… Linn: Still? David: No, again… Linn: Oh, right… otherwise you’d be in surgery for pretty long… Hans: Alright, here’s the coffee! Oh, great, Linn’s awake. Here’s your coffee, sweety! Alright - now back to Matteo… I’ve had a very very very very great idea, my butterfly. I just thought of it. I was standing in the kitchen making breakfast and I was looking forward to having breakfast with everyone and then I thought that we should actually do that a lot more often. Well, we already have breakfast together every now and then, but I mean here in your bed… since you threw out your ol’ bed and David’s bed is at all of our disposal… David *in the background: So much for privacy… Hans: ...the opportunity really lends itself to move breakfast to the bed more often… and then I thought: My good Hans, why only breakfast!? Eating in bed is more comfortable in general! And as it happens, in 1.5 weeks from now we’ll have a roommate that will be bedridden due to surgery, anyways.

Matteo: *really has to laugh and wonders why this hasn’t been a topic again last week*

David: I won’t be bedridden! I’m just supposed to rest! Hans: And that’s /the/ opportunity to have all our meals in your bed! *you can hear Hans clap his hands and Laura laughing* David: Okay, now you’re completely insane! Hans: I’m sorry, my butterfly-boyfriend, you’re outvoted! David: I’m not! Hans, Yes, Laura and Linn are also in favor. Linn: But if David doesn’t want to… I don’t know! Hans: David is still outvoted! David: Matteo also votes against it! Hans: You can’t know that! David: Yes I know that! Hans: Prove it! David *laughs*: I will prove it by finally having the key for our room remade and then you’re welcome to guess from outside if Matteo or I have turned it in the lock!

Matteo: *wonders why David didn’t tell him about that and that he insead told him he had found the key again*

David: Hans: Maybe it’s a sign that all the keys have disappeared a few weeks ago… Laura: There were keys to the rooms!? David: Yes - and when Matteo and I came back from our holiday, all the keys were suddenly completely mysteriously gone! Hans: You don’t have to look at me like this, my sweety! I didn’t have anything to do with that! Laura: But keys don’t disappear just like that… Hans: I do believe that it was a sign. We should be more open with each other and eat in David and Matteo’s room more often. Matteo, my butterfly, you are on my side, aren’t you? David: *groans* Laura: How about we discuss eating together again when Matteo is present and when David is back from the hospital!? David: How about we finally turn of the recording!? Hans: Does anyone still have anything important to say!? Linn: I do! Hans: Oh, okay… Linn: I know where the keys are! David: What!? Hans: Where?! Laura: Really!? David: Linn, what is it!? What’s wrong!? Laura *apparently directed at Matteo*: Linn is somehow nervous right now… Hans: It’s alright, sweety… no need to be nervous… Linn: It’s because of those dreams… David: What dreams!? Linn *with a sigh*: They started when Mia, David and Matteo were on holiday… and Hans spent so much time at Michi’s and at work… each night, I would dream that we’re all here together and every night something else happened with the doors. One night, we were all suddenly locked into our rooms and couldn’t get outside anymore. The next night we couldn’t get inside anymore. Then it was only me that was locked inside and you didn’t notice that I wasn’t able to get out anymore. Or you were locked in and I pushed food into your rooms through a catflap. And one night, there were strangers in the apartment and they barricaded all the doors… and one night, we weren’t able to get into the kitchen and couldn’t leave the apartment and we were all so hungry… and one night, there were even goblins in the apartment - they attached additional locks to the doors… it was horrible! *there’s a moment of silence, until Hans breaks it* Hans: And then what!? Linn: Then I removed all the keys. I put them in a box and hid them in my room. Only then did the dreams stop… David: Hang on, am I getting this right?! You knew all along where the keys are and you didn’t say anything!? Linn: Yes! You mustn’t use them anymore! Those dreams were really real! They were probably some sort of warning! David: The dreams weren’t a warning, Linn! Your subconscious was just processing something… maybe you felt lonely or something… Hans: And what if they were a warning, after all?! Laura: Nonsense! There won’t be any goblins breaking in here! David: Well it would really be nice to get the key to this room back… Hans: You just want to lock us out! David *laughs*: Well spotted! Hans: You want to exclude us from your life! You don’t love us at all! Linn’s dreams were right! David: That’s nonsense! I would simply like to have a little bit of privacy again every now and then… Laura: I can understand that - you should at least get in the habit of knocking before you come in, Hans! Hans: Linn also often comes into a room without knocking! Linn: Only when I’m lonely and scared that you’ll kick me out again straight away. I always hope that you won’t even notice that I’m there… David: *sighs* Hans: You don’t need to be scared, sweety! You’re always welcome to my room! David: So you don’t need any privacy!? Hans: No! David: And what about when Michi’s there!? Hans: Michi doesn’t mind when you interrupt?! Laura: I don’t believe you! Hans: We can call him and ask him! David: But before we do that we’ll turn off the laptop! Hans: But Matteo can hear what Michi has to say… David: I’ll tell him later! Laura: I’d suggest we first turn off the recording, finish our breakfast, Hans can call Michi and Linn will give us the keys back. Linn: Please no! Hans: Can’t you see that she’s feeling bad with that!? Laura: Maybe we’ll find some other solution… David: How about we think of a solution and then we’ll just tell Matteo the result of our discussion. Laura: We’ll do that! Bye Matteo! *you can hear all the others also yell their “goodbyes”, then you can hear some scooting, and then the recording being stopped*

Michael Buble - Everything Jamie Lawson - Wasn’t expecting that

Matteo: *has been shaking his head in amusement all the while* *is a little sad that he wasn’t there and somehow misses them all a little bit right now* *also wonders what the result of the discussion was* *then listens to the Jamie Lawson song and finds it so good, that he briefly considers listening to it again, but doesn’t want to mess up David’s plan*

ca. 10:56 am: David: Hey… it’s almost 12 here and you just told me that your lunch break will be a little before 1 pm and that you want to call me afterwards. I’m looking forward to that. We almost got half the time over with. I just shook out our bed - everything was full of crumbs. If we really do have breakfast here in bed more often then we need some sort of bed cover or something. It really was somehow cozy. But I still don’t want to have every meal with everyone here in bed after the surgery. By the way, Hans really called Michi and even put him on speaker. I think Michi was quite overwhelmed and at first didn’t even know what Hans was talking about *you can hear him grin*. And ultimately, he said that he really liked all of us and that he also likes having us around him anytime, but that, when it gets intimate, then he would like to be alone with Hans. The poor guy was totally bewildered and asked us if that wasn’t normal and I told him that I get it and that it’s rather Hans who I think isn’t normal when it comes to this matter. Then Hans was sulky and said that Michi could just join you and me if he values privacy so much. Laura and Linn eventually had enough of it and they already started clearing away all the stuff from breakfast. After the phone call I talked to Hans and he did admit that he can also understand us and Michi and that it’s more relaxed with Michi when he doesn’t feel like anyone could come in at any second, but that he also doesn’t want the other roommates to feel like he wanted to exclude them. Then I assured him that this isn’t the case. He also said that we were something like a family and that he’s so glad that Laura and I moved in instead of some stranger and that he doesn’t even think about us moving out again when Mia returns. *grins again* He even asked if at least I could keep living here and if we couldn’t turn the living room into a room for Laura… *laughs quietly* That loon, really! As if anyone wants a room that everyone keeps walking through to get to the bathroom and the kitchen every couple of minutes.

Matteo: *laughs slightly about Hans, but knows he wants to always have his flock collected around him* *catches himself really liking the thought of David continuing to live with him*

David: *sighs quietly* Well, it was actually a pretty good conversation and I actually also think that it’s cute that he wants to have all of us around him like that. But sometimes I really feel like there’s more to it for him. Fear of loss or something… maybe something similar to Linn… Oh, speaking of Linn. We also talked about the keys. Now we agreed that for now, everyone gets their keys back, but that we only lock the doors as an exception. And if her dreams come back, then we’ll put the keys in a… *you can hear him groan* Don’t laugh! ...then we’ll put the keys in a lockable box in the hallway to which everyone gets a key. And if we need our key then we can take it out briefly and then we’ll have to lock it inside the box again afterwards. Do you get the point?! There might be goblins and help themselves to the keys if we just put it inside a key box… *laughs quietly*

Matteo: *also laughs quietly and thinks about Linn and how great she is, but also how strange, but that he really finds it good that it’s okay and that everyone accepts her the way she just is and that they take her fears serious* *thinks that she deserves this*

David: Oh man, to be honest, I keep going back and forth between: “It’s actually pretty nice and funny here with everyone” and “I want my peace and privacy and my own apartment!” Do you remember when we came back from Heidesee!? I felt similar back then. Somehow it was really nice with everyone and it was also cool to have everyone around, but at some point it just got too much. Do you remember when we then came back here and at first we had the apartment to ourselves for a few hours!? *laughs quietly* I think when it comes to that, I really don’t know what I want… *you can hear a knock, David’s quiet groan and a quiet voice saying* Hang on…

Jess Glynne - Take me home

Matteo: *listens to the song and thinks about how nice it was to come back to the flatshare after Heidesee and being completely alone with David* *but also thinks that the dinner afterwards was really great and that the mix is probably really good* *but also thinks that they have really hit the jackpot because their friends are soo good at accepting that they also need time for themselves*

ca. 11:06 am: David: Alright… since we were just talking about it… *he sounds slightly annoyed* That was my sister. She wanted to remind me that I still wanted to go shopping… okay, that’s really a thing… Would you consider me unreliable? Or unreasonable!?

...to be continued...

(next play)

[tenderloincherub]

list of advice for myself, of little things I’ve noticed help me get out of the bed and get stuff done through the day. (also in hopes something may help someone else.)

do lists of two types: list for the total amount of things that you now know need to be done at some point, and a shorter list of the immediate things, the things you’ll get done today or this weekend only.

don’t put too much on yourself for one day, you know you’ll be able to do three things of homework, put only that on your list and know that it is enough :)) otherwise you’ll do the exact same amount of things but you’ll stress out over not finishing more and feel guilty instead of satisfied for what you finished

do things in this sandwich order: 1. something easy that you really want to do - 2. the heavy thing you need to get done to feel calm - 3. another simple homework [generally for me, 1-translations, 2-papers and projects, 3-reading]

stay in the library after your classes to start your homework there, you know you concentrate better there than at home (the ambience is perfect: the noise is enough for you to focus and not so loud that you can’t listen to music if you need it, the place is clean already and you can rest by going around and exploring the books they have there), it is easier to stop when you are done and that way, once you arrive home you have something done already; plus you know the hardest part (for me at least) is getting sttarted and that’ll be done already ;)

use a chronological order of the classes you’ll have per day and through the day to know in which order you should do your homework :)) BUT if one thing is more important, priorize it and if there is something you really want to do, start with it.

prepare your breakfast every night :) being in the kitchen relaxes you and tires your body to sleep and that way in the morning you have one thing done already ;))

for the music you listen: play soft upbeat happy music when getting up and ready to get your mood up, play faster upbeat music when you are in the kitchen or tidying up (same for when doing translations) to work fast, avoid your ethereal sound playlists when it’s late and you’re tired ‘cause they’ll have you sleepy in seconds, play soft lullabies when preparing to sleep to get in the right mood, play happy upbeat songs when you’re washing your clothes to energize yourself, save those ethereal sounds and soft metallic voices songs for the shower so you’ll enjoy it

when you’re eating, read or call home, organize your lists or watch something only. don’t do your homework ‘cause it’ll absorb you and you won’t finish your food :c

when you’re feeling low or mentally tired or emotionally done, go watch a live performance of one of your fave artists, your mood and your energy will go up and up and you’ll feel liberated :))

AND SPECIFICALLY FOR WEEKENDS (weekends weirdly are my bad days bc i’m all alone, i tend to stay home all day and feel fucking low)

go down for a walk first thing in the morning

do a list that includes the order in which you’ll do all the chores + homeworks (alternating chore - homework - chore - homework etc.)

include doing yoga, reading something you want and watching a movie in your list. don’t try to dedicate more than half of your day for doing homework accept that these are rest days and your brain is so fucking burn out already that it won’t even want to work, so even if you don’t get a single piece of homework done, accept it’s okay because these are needed rest days!!!!!! and you feel so low, you don’t get the energy from seeing your friends and teachers and walking around campus you usually get in the week, so it’s okay if you don’t want to do anything!!!

have a specific place to go on saturdays and another one for sundays so you don’t stay inside all weekend. (here are some ideas: cineteca, school library, the super market, that little café next to the supermarket, etc.)

go to bed early and put no alarms, honest to god, boy, these are the only days you can sleep, DO IT

i’ll probably add more things when i remember, but for now, this :))

[lostinthewiind]

Piss Off Your Parents - Part 3

Ukai Keishin - Haikyuu

Synopsis: freshly turned 18, you want to prove to your parents that you aren’t a child for them to push around anymore. First, get a job at the local corner store. Second, use the store owner’s 26-year-old son with piercings and a cigarette addiction to piss your parents off. Third, accidentally fall in love.

Rating: PG

Warnings: none

Song → 18 by Anarbor

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Never before had you dreaded something more than you dreaded arriving for work the morning following your incident with Keishin. More than anything, you hoped he was thoroughly pissed at you and had left for work early that day so that the two of you wouldn’t have to see each other, but much to your displeasure and horror, when you stepped into the store that morning, he was sitting at the front counter, waiting for you.

How was he not pissed at you after what you had said to him? 

When the sound of the front doors sliding open filled the otherwise silent building, leaving the keys in your hand useless as Keishin had already unlocked the store, you gripped the keys tightly and swallowed hard when he looked up at you. He didn’t say anything at first, maybe because he was waiting to see if you would make the first move, but after last night you were done making first moves when it came to him.

Averting his gaze and dropping your head low, you shoved the keys back into your pocket and headed for the back room to put your stuff away and get this day over with. 

Just as you were about to open the door to the back room, Keishin cleared his throat and you stopped in your tracks, head turning to look at him without thinking about it. 

“Good morning, Y/N.” This was the very first time he had greeted you first, and on top of that, the very first time he had ever used your name. 

You weren’t sure how to respond, confusion and excitement mixing in your body to create an overwhelming concoction. “Good morning,” you mumbled in response before disappearing into the back before he could do anything else out of the ordinary, like God forbid initiate a conversation or something.

You took your sweet time getting ready, delaying heading out to the front of the store as long as possible to give Keishin ample time to leave. After about fifteen minutes or so, you emerged only to find him sitting right where he had been before, newspaper sprawled on the counter and a cup of coffee in his hand.

“Shouldn’t you have left by now?” The questioned slipped past your lips before you even had the chance to filter it through your head.

Eyes wide, Keishin was surprised that you had spoken to him almost as much as you were. “We’re expecting a big delivery today, so I’m sticking around,” he answered. “You’ve never handled one by yourself so my mom asked me to show you how it’s done.”

Your heart sank, your stomach twisted, your knees felt weak. So he was going to be here with you all day long? “Perfect,” you groaned, not even bothering to hide the sarcasm in your tone. “That’s just awesome. Great.”

“Listen, it’s not my idea of an ideal day either, but it is what it is,” he said. “So why don’t we just put last night behind us, chalk it up to exhaustion and the influence of alcohol on my part, and move forward?”

You quirked an eyebrow at him, the fact that you couldn’t seem to figure him out thoroughly starting to irritate you. “How are you not angry at me?” you questioned him. “I was . . . horrible last night.”

You had spent the entire night after getting home thinking about the horrendous way you had behaved. The things you had done and said made you feel awful and you couldn’t understand how Keishin wasn’t on the brink of smacking the shit out of you right now.

“It’s fine.” He flashed a smile, trying his best to prove that he wasn’t dwelling on the past. “I’m a big boy. I can take it.”

Looking around to double check that the two of you were the only ones in the store, you lowered your voice before speaking. “But I put my hands on you. You can really just forget that?” Heat swelled in your cheeks as you recalled the less horrible events that had taken place.

“I touched you too,” he reminded you.

“Yeah, but yours was an accident.” You weren’t sure why you were saying all of this stuff; it was almost like you wanted him to be angry at you. Who knows, maybe you did. “I called you a burnout.”

Keishin let out a booming laugh at that. “Take a good long look at me, kid.” He smirked, gesturing to himself. “You really think I’ve never been called worse?”

“I don’t think that’s the point,” you breathed out.

Keishin opened his mouth to speak, but before he let a word out, he changed his mind and pressed his lips together. In the meantime, he watched you, the cogs in his head obviously working hard. “You’re an odd one, you know that?” He stood up, walked over to you, and set a hand on your shoulder. “I said it’s fine, so just forget about it, okay?”

“Okay.” You nodded, finally giving in. 

“Good. Now, get to work, because this place isn’t going to run itself and I’m only here to help with the delivery, so until then, I’ll be napping on the couch in the back. Wake me up when the truck gets here.”

Before you had a chance to respond, Keishin gave you a pat on the head and disappeared into the back room without another word.

You stood in place for a moment, unsure if the fact that he had forgiven you so easily was a relief or not. You didn’t allow yourself to worry too long about that though, because, like Keishin had said, you had work to do and the store wasn’t going to run itself. And, if your memory served you correctly, you had some sweeping to do in the back corner.

For about two hours, you fell back into your normal workday routine, completely forgetting about the events of the previous night or the fact that Keishin was napping in the back. That was, until you saw the delivery truck pull up in front of the store and remembered you had been given the task of waking the sleeping man. 

Heading into the back, you moved slowly and quietly even though it didn’t matter if you woke Keishin since that was what you were supposed to do anyway. 

“Keishin,” you spoke softly, not wanting to startle him. “The delivery truck is here.”

Of course, he didn’t even budge at that. Nervously, you stepped closer to the couch, unable to ignore the fact that Keishin looked completely different when he was asleep. The usual frown or cocky grin he sported was nowhere to be seen and he didn’t seem as intimidating when his eyes were closed and his breathing was so slow and rhythmic. 

“Keishin.” You reached out and placed your hand on his shoulder like he had done to you earlier and shook him slightly. Still nothing. Rolling your eyes, you were unsure what to try next aside from shouting right in his face. If only he had warned you he was a heavy sleeper. 

Deciding to try one last thing before you resorting to screeching, you leaned closer to his ear, planted your hand on his chest—a brief memory of how you had touched him last night flashing in your mind—and shook him once more while you spoke. “Keishin, the delivery truck is here,” you said, not whispering but also not being too loud.

Thankfully, the mixture of shaking him and speaking directly into his ear seemed to finally do the trick and his eyes shot open. Immediately, you jumped back, not wanting him to be weirded out by how close you were to him. 

Eyes travelling up to meet yours, Keishin yawned and stretched his arms over his head. “Truck’s here?” he clarified.

“Yeah, it just arrived,” you told him, waiting for him to get up. “You should have told me you were a heavy sleeper. I was about to scream or pour water over you or something.”

Keishin cringed at the thought of that. “Well, thank goodness you didn’t. Next time, just pinch my nose or tickle me or something . . . anything but water.”

“Next time?” you asked. “You plan on taking naps on the couch often?”

“It’s my favourite place to nap. You should try it sometime,” he said before heading for the door. “Come on, let’s get this delivery over with. Try to learn fast so I don’t have to teach you again.”

“I’ll try my best.”

As you had pretty much expected, the delivery had been pretty straight forward. After helping the delivery man unload all of the boxes into the storage room and signing off on the delivery, the most time-consuming and complex part of the process was taking an inventory of the new supplies, which you picked up on pretty quickly. 

Keishin showed you how to mark down the new delivery on the clipboard kept in the storage room and where to input the total count for each item. From there, all you had to do was make sure you had received everything and had the correct number ordered. 

“Pretty easy, right?” He glanced at you out the corner of his eye as the two of you worked together at counting the inventory, keeping an ear open for customers in the process.

“Yeah, it doesn’t seem hard. Just time consuming,” you agreed. 

“Exactly. We usually get a big delivery like this about once a month, then smaller deliveries throughout the week for more perishable items, as you already know.”

You nodded, quickly becoming lost in the repetitive task of counting and writing down the amount on the clipboard. Weirdly enough, you found that you didn’t actually hate taking inventory; the simple task was actually kind of calming and passed the time effortlessly. 

“50,” you muttered under your breath, jotting down the number in the correct box right after you finished counting. When you turned back to start on the next box, you caught Keishin looking in your direction. “What?” You furrowed your brows at him. “Am I doing something wrong?”

“No, no.” He shook his head. “I was just thinking.”

“About?”

“You,” he responded, quickly elaborating when you shot him a confused look. “Well, more specifically, why you took this job.”

You shrugged as you continued working. “I already told you. I need the money.”

“Right, so you can move out on your own. But why?”

Your hands stopped grabbing items and your mind stopped counting, making you lose track. “Because I’ve been waiting for as long as I can remember to live my own life and now that I have the opportunity, I’m not going to pass it up.”

“But wouldn’t you much rather be going to school? Surely you don’t want to work in a place like this for the rest of your life.”

You sighed heavily. “You ask a lot of questions, you know that?”

“I’m just curious,” Keishin said. “I want to understand you better.”

“I don’t think you could truly understand unless you experienced the childhood that I did.”

Stopping his work as well, Keishin leaned against the shelf and crossed his arms over his chest. “Try me.”

Rolling your eyes, you accepted the fact that he wasn’t going to give up. “First thing��s first, I’m not saying my childhood was tragic or anything. My parents didn’t beat me. They fed me and clothed me and everything a parent should.” You started, waiting for him to nod before continuing. “I was just never allowed to live my own life or make my own decisions. I ate what my parents wanted me to eat, I wore what they wanted me to wear. I took the classes they wanted me to, I was friends with who they thought would make a good friend. They went overboard on trying to get me to do what they thought was best for me. I was never old enough or mature enough to know what I really wanted. I lived in a controlling dictatorship.”

“What about soccer?” Keishin asked, proving that he had actually remembered the conversation the two of you had had on your first day at the store. “You told me you used to play.”

You smiled fondly at the thought of your high school soccer team. “That was the only thing I ever got to pick for myself . . . and it took months of convincing, and in the end, I was only allowed to continue because I was good at it. The fact that I genuinely enjoyed it never came into account for my parents.” Your smiled faded slightly. “Sometimes they even managed to drain the fun from that as well, but I refused to let them ruin it for me because it was the only thing I had that was mine.”

“Do you miss it?”

“Every day . . . but this is more important right now.”

Keishin was silent for a few moments while he processed everything you had said. “Sounds like everything needed to have a purpose.”

“Pretty much. If something had no chance of providing success in the future, it was a waste of time.”

“So the plan is to work so you can afford your own place, then go to school next year? How are you going to afford school?”

“Well, if I had followed my parents plan for me and started working toward a law degree, they would have paid for it. But since I’ve decided to do my own thing now, I’m just lucky they haven’t kicked me out of the house yet . . . so I guess I’ll have to get a scholarship or apply for student loans. I’ll basically be scraping by, so I’ve applied for a bunch of community colleges and I’ll go from there I guess.”

Fishing a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, Keishin lit one before sticking it between his lips. “What do you want to do?”

You laughed slightly at that. “I have no idea. I was never allowed to have hobbies or interests, so I don’t even know what I like. I just know what I don’t like. If I could do anything though, I’d apply for the University of Tokyo. They have a great soccer program. I just want to play soccer again.”

Keishin smiled. “Just soccer?”

“For now, yeah. I’ve learned that I’ll have to take life step by step, so that’s the first major goal. I’ll probably take some first year classes and see what I like and go from there. I think it’s okay to not have a set-in-stone plan sometimes . . . after all, this is the first time in my life I’ve never had my future planned out for me. It’s kind of exciting . . . scary, too, but exciting.”

Keishin sighed contently as he watched your eyes light up when you talked about the things you wanted to do in the future. “Can I ask you something?”

You nodded. “Sure.”

“So what was the point of what happened last night?” he inquired. “And, while we’re at it, the past few weeks as well. How do I fit into this grand plan of yours?”

You felt your heart pound against your chest. “I thought we were forgetting about last night?”

“We are,” he assured you. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. I’m just curious, is all.”

You thought for a moment, unsure how to phrase exactly how you were feeling. At first, you were inclined to take him up on his offer to not answer, but after how nice he had been to you today, you felt you owed him at least that. 

“Originally, I was in a pretty messed-up head space and I wanted to use you to get back at my parents,” you told him truthfully, “. . . but after last night, I did some serious thinking and realized that wasn’t the case. What I really want is to prove to my parents that not everything that is different or ‘not according to plan’ is bad. You have an  . . . alternative look about you,” you tried to phrase that as respectfully as possible, causing Keishin to chuckle, “but you’re not a bad person or, despite my harsh words last night, a burnout. You coach volleyball for high school kids and you help out at your family’s store and even though I’ve been pretty horrible to you, you’ve been nothing but nice to me.”

You paused, unsure if you should say the last part or not. “I don’t know, I just think that maybe if they met you, they might realize that I’m capable of making good choices for myself even if it doesn’t fit their predetermined mold of my life.”

“You think I’m a good choice?” he asked, taken aback by your honesty.

“Yeah.” You eyed him while he took a drag from his cigarette and let the smoke spill from his lips. “Maybe not the nicotine addiction part, but hey, no one’s perfect.”

Keishin chuckled before putting his smoke out. “Okay, I’ve got a deal for you.”

You cocked a brow at him. “What?”

“If I pretend to be your boyfriend and help you fix things with your parents, you have to apply to the University of Tokyo and follow your dream of playing soccer.”

You were thoroughly perplexed. “Both conditions of that deal only really benefit me. What do you get out of it?”

He just shrugged. “Nothing.”

You scoffed. “Well, as generous and sketchy as that sounds, there is no way I would be able to afford the University of Tokyo on my own and I don’t think any amount of ass-kissing could make my parents agree to pay for me to go there to play soccer and figure life out.”

“Hey, one step at a time, right?” He used your own words against you. 

You contemplated his offer for a moment. “You’re really okay with that? Even though you get nothing but more work out of it?”

“I suggested it, didn’t I?”

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. “You’d really pretend to be my boyfriend? Even though I’m just some rebellious kid?”

“Your opinion of me changed,” he pointed out. “Why can’t my opinion of you change too?”

“Fair enough,” you conceded. “Well, if you’re absolutely positive you won’t regret it when you wake up tomorrow morning, I’ll happily accept your deal. Thank you.”

Keishin turned back to the stack of boxes and promptly returned to the task at hand. “You’re welcome.”

You watched him work and quietly hum to himself while he did so. This time, it was his turn to catch you staring. “What?” he looked over at you.

“I just didn’t peg you for such a softy is all,” you joked. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he scoffed at you. “Just don’t fall in love with me or anything, kid.”

You smirked. “Whatever you say, old man.”

[luminari-mc]

My Human, My Sunshine - Part 1

Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort.

Pairing: GN!MC x Mammon

Word count: 5194

Summary: Mammon finds himself lost in the human world. Meanwhile, MC can't get ahold of Solomon, their phone dead silent.

Warnings: N/A

A/N: My first writing piece for Obey Me! It's kind of a long one so I recommend you grab a snack or two during it. While this part is occupied by a good amount of text messages between Mammon and someone else, I'm already thinking of writing a part 2 which will have way more dialogue. In the meantime, please enjoy this little scenario I came up with after listening to a song that set me in an angsty mood. :)

______________________________________________________

Wet. Cold. Exhausted. And completely lost.

Mammon felt all of those, and yet, his legs kept on marching into the dead of night, his jacket covering his head despite being too drenched to protect him from the rain anymore. Each time a droplet of water came rolling on his cheek, his wrist would come to brush it off, and Mammon would let out an annoyed groan. If only there were any shops open, but the city was definitely asleep. He was thankful for the crashing sound of the rain on the ground around him, along with the smell of the wet asphalt keeping himself awake, otherwise, he surely would have gone crazy by now. The demon had even lost count of how many hours he had been wandering through the streets, how many mailboxes he had checked, how few passersby he had come across, only to receive negative answers to his questions.

And so Mammon kept on walking, not sure where to go next. But he felt sure of one thing: he wouldn't stop moving until he had found what he was looking for. Be there rain, or no rain. Lost or not.

"Tch, the human world's weather really sucks..."

As he walked on the pavement, his brow furrowed from the lack of new clues as to where his destination was supposed to be. His eyes caught sight of a bakery he had already walked by earlier during the day, its gentle light piercing the darkness that had been accompanying him for far too long now. Mammon's brow furrowed slightly at the sight- he knew he had gone in circles time and time again, but seeing it confirmed once more rubbed him the wrong way. Despite that, he decided to walk towards it, and took shelter under the entrance's porch. Surely the owners wouldn't mind him checking his phone for a few minutes, right? Right.

Pinching between his fingers the precious D.D.D. he had tucked under his shirt to protect it from the rain, Mammon looked at the map again. His stomach dropped for the upteenth time upon seeing the address still showing in his search bar, the letters and numbers taunting him. A knot formed in his throat as he tried his best not to scream at his screen.

"It wasn't there, you idiot..."

His mouth formed into an angry pout. Mammon looked into the list of potential addresses he had made throughout the day, and all had been crossed out. He felt his jaw clench- not only was he left with no addresses, no other clues, no humans to help him, but also that stupid rain surely would keep on falling for the rest of the night.

He was truly cursed.

"What the fuck am I supposed to do now?!" Mammon groaned, his free hand reaching upward to grab at his hair in frustration.

Yes... that was a good question. What was he supposed to do? It wasn't like he could ask help from any of his brothers, or from the angels. It had already been a miracle a witch he knew accepted to snuck him into the human world without anyone knowing, but there was no way he'd get any more help from her without offering his own life in exchange. And contacting Solomon was absolutely out of the question, for his own obvious reasons that he still was suspicious of the guy.

For the longest time in a while, Mammon felt alone. More alone than he had ever been before. He had promised himself to go on this search on his own, stupidly thinking that it'd be over by the end of the day, and look where that got him. Lost in the human world, on the verge of catching some nasty human virus from all this rain that had poured on him, and without anyone by his side.

The grip on his phone tightened, the hand holding it shaking slightly as the anger was starting to consume the demon. Even Mammon's patience had its limits, and he was starting to reach it.

"Dammit, where the hell are ya-"

A pathetic yelp escaped his mouth as he looked in fear at his phone, which had buzzed for a very short second in his palm. Wait, was it a notification? But from who? He had taken all the necessary precautions before leaving, so who was still able to reach his number?

His mind ran through all possibilities as he quickly checked his screen, the name of the sender making him open his eyes wide.

Leviathan: Mammon!!

Leviathan: Where are you???

Leviathan: You promised me you'd play this new game with me after coming home from RAD, don't tell me you forgot?? It's been HOURS.

Leviathan: Also the others say they can't reach your DDD and Lucifer is seriously pissed!

Leviathan: And I know you didn't break your DDD, that wouldn't explain why I can send texts now and the others still can't. Even though mine didn't work before.

Leviathan: But do you know how much time and effort it took me to find a way to bypass a blocked number?? Well guess what, the same amount of hours since you broke your promise!

Leviathan: You're reading this, right? Then send something! Anything!

Mammon backed even more into the porch of the shop, his eyes stuck to the screen of his phone. All of the blood rushing to his head suddenly made him forget he was cold in the first place. Of course Levi would be the first to find a way to contact him.

The demon's chest rose as he breathed in heavily, his hands slowly wrapping around the phone. It took him a hot minute to get ahold of his trembling fingers so as to not make any typos, his mind debating whether responding was a good idea or not, even as he hit the send button.

Mammon: Sorry Levi, gonna have to postpone the gaming session.

Mammon: I got business elsewhere and I'm not sure when I'll come back home, if ever.

Leviathan: Ew stop sounding so gloomy, you're almost starting to sound like me and tbh it would be kinda creepy.

Leviathan: That still doesn't tell me where you are! I know it's like a common thing for you to get into shady stuff on a regular basis but even Lucifer seems concerned, and weirdly enough he's not even trying to hide it???

Leviathan: He's been pacing back and forth in the common room for 20 minutes and won't let go of his phone it's starting to creep me out.

Leviathan: Hey huh, if you really were in big trouble you'd let us know, right? Like, even by typing a secret message to let us know that you got kidnapped or whatever?

Leviathan: Nevermind, I really don't see why you'd even get kidnapped, so it HAS to be that you chose to disappear by yourself.

Leviathan: But anyway! It's been 2 months now since everyone's been acting weird and I've seen and heard you enough to CLEARLY see that you're getting worse but finding trouble with witches or whatever won't help you feel better. And yes I know you've been faking being fine the entire time!! Don't think you can fool me!!

Leviathan: Believe me and the hundreds of figurines I bought!! I thought they'd help and it's somehow doing nothing, I feel like the worst fraud of an otaku EVER!!! How can I call myself an otaku when I can't even find joy anymore in the things that make an otaku what he is??

Leviathan: It's like I'm losing my identity! Wait no screw that, it's not just me, we've all been losing it!!

The three dots of a message being typed disappeared and reappeared, and Mammon couldn't do anything but watch the messages of his brother pop up one after another on his screen. A sense of guilt surfaced inside of him, and it only made him frown. It's not as if he hadn't thought about asking Levi for help, before getting himself into this mess... but for both of their sakes, he had decided that it had to be him coming here, and only him.

But suddenly, just as he expected his brother to send another message, the three dots disappeared, and didn't come back right away. Mammon's focus on his phone increased at the unexplained absence of new texts from Levi, and he waited, expecting him to continue the chain of messages he had started. But nothing followed.

It wasn't in Levi's habits to suddenly stop texting in the middle of a flood of texts. The demon gripped his phone tighter, worry beginning to grow within his mind. Was it because they were in different worlds that their phones couldn't reach properly? Or worse- had Lucifer found him out?

His heart almost skipped a beat as the three dots reappeared under his eyes, before letting another message pop up.

Leviathan: wait

Leviathan: waitwaitwaitwaitwaitwait

Leviathan: OMG NO WAY

Leviathan: MAMMON TELL ME YOU'RE KIDDING

Mammon: I literally haven't said anything?

Leviathan: YOU PERFECTLY KNOW WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT

Leviathan: DON'T TELL ME YOU'RE IN THE HUMAN WORLD RN??

Shit.

How did he even find out?! Well... he could only assume that it wouldn't take a genius to figure out where Mammon could have gone if not anywhere in the Devildom, but still, why did Levi have to type it out? His plan was supposed to be flawless after all.

Mammon: Sorry bro, I can't say where I am.

Mammon: I know Lucifer's bound to check all of your DDDs sooner or later and that's only gonna help him find me.

Mammon: And like I said, I have something to do, so I can't come back.

Leviathan: Wait! I'll delete all of our messages, and I'll even destroy my DDD if it means you tell me why you're there

Leviathan: Actually no don't even answer, there can only be one reason you took that kind of risk

Leviathan: Is it... because of MC?

Upon reading their name again, Mammon felt his stomach sink. The eyes of the Avatar of Greed closed almost instantly as if to avoid reading it, the damp air whistling through his teeth as he breathed in deeply. Of course Levi would figure that out too. Any of his brothers could have.

The demon leaned his head against the wall behind him, his eyes opening and staring into nothing as he contemplated telling Levi about his plan. It wasn't as if he had any backup plans considering the situation he was in, after all. And Levi had the advantage of being at home, and having access to technology and magic that could improve his search further. But the thought of Lucifer figuring everything out still haunted him, making the hair on his skin stand straight.

And yet... At this point, he had nothing else to lose.

Mammon: Ya gotta promise not to tell anyone about this.

Leviathan: Who do you take me for? I'm not a snitch!

Leviathan: Especially if it's about MC.

Leviathan: But huh... what about Lucifer? You know that if when he finds out you went to the human world, he's going to kill you.

Mammon: Fuck Lucifer.

Mammon: I'm tired of hearin' him say he's "taking care of it". He clearly knows something but won't tell any of us and I'm tired of not getting any news from MC since they left the Devildom 2 months ago.

Mammon: And what's with his excuse about them not havin' their DDD anymore to contact us? I call that a load of bullshit.

Mammon: Something weird happened and Lucifer's too stuck-up to let us know what it is.

Mammon: So I'm done waiting around to see when they'll come back, or IF they'll even come back. So I'm going to get them myself.

Mammon: Problem is, I went to MC's place, and they weren't there. Their neighbor told me that they moved out a while ago with, get this, "a guy with white hair".

Leviathan: ??????? Solomon?????

Mammon: I'd bet my Demonio and all the things I possess that it's him.

Mammon: Not only Lucifer's in on this secret thing about MC, but Solomon too. I've already booked him an appointment with my fists if he did anythin' to them.

Mammon: Hell, even Diavolo and Barbatos seem to be in it too, which sucks even bigger time.

Mammon: So that means it's just us 6 who don't know shit. I wasn't about to play nice and dumb for Lucifer any longer.

Leviathan: Mammon

Leviathan: I never thought I'd ever write something like that to YOU

Leviathan: but

Leviathan: you sound super cool rn!! That just makes me wish I could have gone too!!

Leviathan: Pleasepleaseplease let me help!!! I'm also worried about MC and I miss having them here. The atmosphere at the house has sucked ever since we realized we couldn't text or call them anymore and I huh... kinda miss seeing them around the others too.

For a split second, Mammon considered taking a screenshot of Levi's last message to sell it as "the proof that the Avatar of Envy can control his jealousy!", but now wasn't the time for that. He had Levi's approval for helping him find the whereabouts of MC, and that's all he needed at the moment. He hadn't even noticed his lips turning into a small grin upon reading his brother offering his support.

Mammon: Alright Levi listen.

Mammon: All I'm tryin' right now is to find where MC might be.

Mammon: I don't think they left the place I'm at, but I ain't about to search at every damn house there is here. Would take too much time anyway.

Mammon: So can ya use your shut-in powers and figure somethin' out? Like I don't know, catch their human phone's signal or whatever through hacking?

Leviathan: Lol? I'll let you know it's not because I spend my entire days in my room that I know how to find a human phone!

Leviathan: I know how to hack yeah, but I don't know how to hack human technology! Not that I maybe tried once or twice and it resulted in failure each time.

Leviathan: But huh... I could try?

Leviathan: Let me ask Satan if we could use magic too.

Mammon: Satan? Levi, are you stupid? Last thing we want is to get more people to know about what I'm doing.

Leviathan: Oh huh yeaaaah, about that.

Leviathan: I should have told you sooner, but when I stopped answering earlier it's because Satan caught me texting you.

Leviathan: But he actually knew you had left to the human world! So we don't have to worry! He's on our side... obviously.

Mammon: Then the two of you get on it.

Mammon: And don't catch Lucifer's attention.

Leviathan: Yeah!

Leviathan: I'll let you know when we've found something.

Leviathan: BRB!

And then just like earlier, Levi's texts stopped appearing on his screen. A sigh left Mammon's lips as he closed his eyes, and the demon allowed his body to slide against the wall behind him until he was sitting on the ground. As he stretched out his sore body, the second-born finally realized that after two whole months of not getting to hear MC's voice, seeing their smile, getting to touch them... he had gotten closer to finding them, all thanks to his brothers. He had let Lucifer's intimidation get the best of him throughout all this time, but not anymore. No matter whether his older brother would catch wind of where he was, and what he was doing, Mammon would never stop trying to bring back MC where they belonged. With him, in the Devildom, back with the family they had found and grown to love.

Closing the messaging app with his thumb, the picture of MC he had set as his D.D.D. background seemed to radiate like the sun. How dared them all try to separate his human from their first man? From the one who'd they come to whenever they had a nightmare and couldn't fall asleep? The demon who'd hug them as tight as possible in their bed after a long day at RAD? The one who'd had the chance to fall asleep with them, getting the absolute honor of seeing their face so close to his, and who'd protect their dreams from any bad thoughts and scary nightmares?

The anxiety that Mammon had worn on his face all day slowly disappeared, and a small smile was placed upon it instead as his eyes met MC's in the picture.

"I'm almost there. Ya just gotta be patient a little more."

I'll find ya.

Time went on as Mammon waited for any news of Levi and Satan's research. The rain showed no sign of clearing soon, and the demon was starting to doze off after spending his entire day without taking a single break. He could have almost fallen asleep if it hadn't been for the owner of the bakery opening the door to close his shop and asking him to sit somewhere else. So Mammon moved from one spot to another, and took shelter near another store instead.

After what seemed like an eternity of waiting on the stone steps he had sat on, his phone's screen flashed a bright light as a new notification from Levi appeared from the top. Quickly passing his wrist on his tired eyes, Mammon tapped on the new message at the speed of light. The contents made him gasp, and for a second, he had almost forgotten how to breathe, as his now wide-open eyes were glued on the content of the message.

A full-on address, along with a picture of the place.

Mammon instantly stood up at the sight of the picture, the memories of his day resurfacing in a flash. He remembered very clearly seeing this particular building sometime during his search- its height had been making it stand out very easily amongst the other buildings in the city. Nobody couldn't mistake it with anything else.

Mammon: This is it?

Leviathan: Yeah, we placed down a map and confirmed it was there.

Leviathan: Satan actually found a book in his room with a spell that can help find a person's specific item with just some of their DNA.

Leviathan: So we went to MC's room and found some hair that Satan used for the spell, along with his phone so it could narrow down the list of MC's items.

Leviathan: I didn't think Satan's room could look even more of a mess, but he spent 10 minutes shoveling through his collection and now you can't even see the floor or his bed anymore lol

Leviathan: Anyway now that you got what you wanted, go and check if MC is there!

Mammon felt his legs move on their own as he flipped his jacket above his head and stepped under the rain again, a confident grin now brightly adorning his face as he typed on his phone to reply.

Mammon: Thanks Levi. I'll owe ya one.

Leviathan: Find MC and bring them back. Then you can consider us even.

Mammon nodded, a newfound hope filling his entire body and mind. After confirming that Levi had ceased texting him, the demon turned the phone off. He opened his hand to drop it on the wet floor, and let his right foot crash down upon it, the object almost breaking in half. Mammon promptly gathered in his hand the shattered item, now completely unusable, and threw it down a nearby sewer before letting his excitement take the best of him and sprint further in the direction of the building from the picture. At least, now Lucifer wouldn't be able to track him down with it if Levi and Satan got caught.

The more distance he covered, the more Mammon could swear he was about to take on his demon form at any moment. The thoughts of MC began to fill his head even more, as if they were the one pushing him to find them, to get to them as soon as possible. For the first time in 2 months, Mammon felt truly alive.

"Almost there. The Great Mammon's coming for ya, MC!!" he let out in the form of an encouragement to himself, his legs having found their energy again as his form was engulfed further into the city.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Anxiously pacing around the room, their head low and their phone in their hands, MC was growing more and more impatient. They were supposed to receive an update from Solomon about three hours earlier in the form of a phone call, but no matter the amount of messages they'd spent in the hopes of the wizard finally answering them, all they received was a dreadful silence. Grabbing a nearby chair, they let their body fall onto the seat as their fingers typed yet another message. They couldn't really understand how they had come to grow so persistent when it came to getting Solomon to reply to them, but having no other person to talk to ever since they left the Devildom 2 months prior would do that to anyone, they assumed.

'Solomon, sorry, I know I'm sending a lot of texts, but you said you'd visit today and I'm starting to be worried and... honestly a bit lonely. I thought going out today would help, but I just sat in the park for an hour before going back home and not doing much of the day.'

'You were supposed to meet with other wizards today, right? I hope nothing bad happened. But in case you're alright, all I'm asking is just one reply to at least get some sort of human connection. Not that I had a lot of it in the past few months.'

They felt their throat tighten upon writing their last sentence, feeling the frustration spilling out of their own words right back into their face. But who could blame them?

2 months without seeing, hearing, or even texting their friends back in the Devildom. 2 months without receiving a single visit from Luke or Simeon. 2 months spent exclusively with the company of Solomon, who had been acting strange ever since and had made them move out of their home under the excuse that it was to "train them at magic in a more private setting". But more importantly... those had been 2 months without having Mammon around, and MC would lie if they said they hadn't spent several nights crying themself to sleep, wondering how the demon was dealing with their absence.

The memories of their latest departure from the Devildom played in their head like a movie as they placed a hand on their forehead. Everything had seemed alright at the time, with them getting to say their usual goodbyes to the brothers, wishing to see them again once the new year at RAD would start, foolishly thinking that they'd get to spend their time hearing their voices on a daily basis once they were back in the human world. And before they could understand, their DDD had been taken from them, Solomon had been more present in their life than ever before, and for a reason they still couldn't grasp, it was as if the brothers had vanished from their life completely. No news whatsoever. Complete radio silence.

Just thinking back to this period, and how they could have probably caught that something was up as soon as Diavolo asked for their DDD after the brothers had left... it just made them want to puke.

But nothing could make them want to do so as much as the long-awaited reply of Solomon appearing on their screen.

'Hi MC. I'm deeply sorry I couldn't get ahold of you throughout the day. I won't be able to visit you today, since my services are still required here. Besides, it's getting late. I recommend you go have a good night's sleep as soon as possible.'

'If everything goes smoothly, I should be able to come back tomorrow. Then, we'll be able to go walk wherever you want. How does that sound?'

'I need to be going, but I shall wish you a good night. Take care, MC.'

And just as quickly as he had answered, Solomon went silent again. Leaving them in this apartment they had grown to hate, this prison cell he had put them in. A place where no fun could be found for them. MC didn't even bother sending anything else after that.

Their head sunk even lower, until their forehead slowly met with the hard surface of the dinner table. The phone faceplanted onto the wood as MC's hands turned into hard fists, a deep groan shaking the walls of their throat. It was hard not to let the tears escape their eyes, but instead, they opted to punch the table several times as hard as they could, until they felt their anger diminish.

How long was Solomon going to act ignorant towards them? How long was he going to ignore their pleas to get news from the Devildom, anything that would let them know why they couldn't contact the brothers, Diavolo and Barbatos? Even if the lords had been in some sort of trouble... they'd still find time to talk to their human, right? There was no way Mammon, the one they loved, wouldn't try to reach them one way or another... right?

Him who had been so clingy in such an adorable way every time they'd be at the House of Lamentation, he who had revealed to them that there wasn't a single day where his thoughts wouldn't drift to them no matter how hard he tried...

No. No amount of important duties would explain why Mammon of all demons, would ignore them like that.

They missed his antics. His entire being. The warmth he'd bring them each time he'd hold their hand before tucking his face into their neck like a pouting child, desperately trying to sneak one or two kisses in there, in the hopes he'd get to hear that sweet giggle of them. It wasn't for nothing that Lucifer had come to name them the chaotic duo of the House of Lamentation. They were two parts of a whole.

And yet, the world had dared to separate them. And MC was tired, oh so tired of not having their other half near them. The only feeling they had left, was one of pure desperation to see their greedy demon.

"I'm not asking for much... even a single word would do." MC replied to no one as they turned their head to rest their cheek onto the table. They closed their eyes, the anger slowly being replaced by a profound exhaustion. Could they really do nothing but act normal around Solomon, and accept that this was now their new life? No demons, no angels, just... humans around them?

Before they could slap the thought away, a loud banging coming from the entrance door made them straighten in their seat, their head turning towards the hallway in a panic. Their heart pounded inside their chest as the banging seemed to go on forever, until they used the back of their chair to push themself up, their legs shaking.

"S...Solomon?" They asked, way too silently for anyone to hear, and fully knowing that the person behind the door couldn't be the wizard.

As if they were waiting for an answer, MC stood there, their hand grasped onto the chair. The banging was insistent, demanding, angry. At this time of night, there were few reasons they could think why someone would mistreat their door in such a way, and MC wasn't sure they wanted to find the reason for it.

That is, until the person behind the door finally let their voice be heard.

"Oi, MC! Ya can hear me right?! Come on, open the door!"

It didn't take long for MC to let the familiar voice enter their ears, and it took less time for them to nearly stumble over the chair as their legs moved in a hurry to lead them towards the door as quickly as possible. Their hands messily trying to open the locks on the door, they were sure their mind had just played a trick on them, and the person outside was going to leave them completely disappointed, but they didn't care. This voice they could only remember so well despite the time since they had last heard it, was simply inviting them to open the door, to check for themselves whether it was true, or just a nasty joke played by their brain.

But as the last lock was undone, and the door was swung open, MC couldn't do anything but just stand there, their mouth agape.

Mammon kept on drawing breaths, his wet hair stuck to his forehead and drops of rain falling from his clothes onto the floor below, so much so that it had started to create a small puddle underneath him. As if the person who opened the door wasn't the one he expected, the demon took a step back, letting his eyes wander up and down on the human he had in front of him, almost in an attempt to check if it was really them. He too, couldn't stop his mouth from hanging open at the sight.

The two of them just stood there for a few seconds, taken by so many emotions at once that they weren't sure what to do. But right as Mammon took a step forward, his mouth opening some more to let out words that he so desperately had wanted to say for so long now, MC's face contorted into one of pure sadness before they rushed towards him. Mammon greedily welcomed them into his arms as they jumped and wrapped their arms around his shoulders, and their legs around his waist. They buried their face into his neck, the warmth of their tears mixing with the rain on his skin.

His embrace only tightened even more as they mumbled his name amidst broken sobs, the sound ever so close to his ear that even though he had his eyes firmly closed, he might have cried on the spot too. But he had found them. He had them in his arms again. After what had seemed like a million years, finally, they were back where they belonged, and he was back with his human.

Almost as if they were about to be pulled away from him, Mammon placed a hand on the back of their head, wanting to protect their entire being from harm no matter the cost. He still wasn't sure why it had taken so long for him to reunite with them despite the obstacles, but at the present moment, nothing else could matter.

The lord had finally found them, and he wasn't about to let anyone interfer between their happiness once more.

"I ain't letting you go." He whispered through gritted teeth, his head lowering into their shoulder. "Ever again."

[caramelcal]

Request:  Luke x reader? Luke tries to distract reader throughout the day (like he did to Julie) especially when she tries to talk to Nick? Which reader gets mad about and starts to ignore Luke (because she’s been trying to distract herself from her growing feels for him) and he eventually poofs into he room to talk to her about it?

Word Count: 2k

a/n: hi! sorry this took so long, instead of sitting down and working on one fic i’ve been working on five at the same time. incredibly stressful, i’ll try not to do that again lol especially considering it meant it took me ages to write them all...also someone pls give me something to name this lmao ty, and thank you for the request! 

also just in case anyone asks i will not be making a part 2 sorry ! :(

disclaimer: I do not condone the use of my work/writing without my permission. The only place this has been posted is on my (rosemoonmist) tumblr account. This has not been posted on any other platform either. If you see any plagiarism of my work please let me know! <3 People work hard on their fics, so don’t steal them ty.

Masterlist

“So y/n I was thinking,” Luke starts, popping up out of thin air beside you whilst you walk along the corridors. At his unannounced presence beside you, you jump and let out a surprised squeal, gather attention from other students.

Looking around, you notice all of their stares and a blush coats your cheeks. They couldn’t see Luke, you knew that, so they thought you jumped at nothing and your squeal definitely didn’t help. Your head ducks down in embarrassment, trying to avoid the gazes of the students as you start to hurry to your locker.

“Y/n! I’m trying to talk to you here? Hello!” Luke shouts, following your quick, embarrassed walk to your locker. He leans against the locker beside you, arms crossed over his chest, “Y/n, stop ignoring me please.”  

“You know Luke, normal people don’t sneak up on others so you definitely shouldn’t,” You mutter quietly, trying not to attract any more attention from those near you. You had already embarrassed yourself enough, you definitely didn’t need to be caught talking to yourself.

Luke watches you as you get your textbooks from your locker with soft, hazel eyes, shrugging his shoulders before he speaks again, “I don’t see what’s wrong with coming to share my ideas with you.”

“When you practically ambush me in the middle of the halls and embarrass me in front of my classmates then there’s something wrong,” You whisper harshly towards the teenage ghost, who gives you a playful smile in return.

“Don’t worry about it, I think your little scream was cute,” Luke tries to playfully comfort you, but you only end up more embarrassed. Ducking your head, you clear your throat, not meeting Luke’s eyes, “Plus, if I don’t talk to you then who is? Flynn and Julie aren’t here.”

“I have friends other than Julie and Flynn, you know,” You replied with a small smile, rolling your eyes at the boy whose eyes go slightly wider in amusement.

Leaning closer to you, he whispers, “Yeah, one of ‘ems behind you right now.”

With that he pulls back, his amused smirk going wider when he sees your eyes widen in panic. At least he’s getting some enjoyment out of this because you certainly weren’t. It was almost as if you were unfrozen, whipping around after several moments of doing nothing and just standing still to see him there.

“Heyyy y/n,” He says, trying to mask the slightly judgmental look he is giving you but you notice. At this rate, you just want the ground to swallow you whole, melt into the floor or just disappear.

“Nick! Hi,” You say, feeling your throat close up as you look at him. You try to keep your eyes on him, but they quickly stray when Luke appears behind him.

“You alright, L/N?” Nick asks, looking at you strangely with concern etched into his voice.

Waving your hand about weirdly, you nod your head wildly, trying to act natural but very much not. Luke glances at you with a judgmental glance, one that he wants you to see as you laugh, “Of course I am! Why would I not be?”

“I don’t know, you’re just acting a little strange.”

“Me? I’m always strange,” You try to wave it off, hoping that soon enough this nightmare would be over and you could go back home. This has to be the most embarrassing day to ever exist, for anyone. You would give anything just to disappear right now.

“Uh oh,” Luke’s voice sounds from behind Nick, his voice teasing as he looked at you with a smile, “has someone got a crush on Nick?”

“What! No!”

Your eyes snapped over to Luke, his smile growing wider. You know that he’s messing with you, but you couldn’t let him believe you had a crush on Nick of all people. No way. You already liked someone else, Luke, so to let Luke believe that you liked Nick was not going to happen. Your eyes hesitantly look back towards Nick, where he looks at you with a confused look.

You know that you can’t explain you were talking to a ghost, he’d think you were even crazier than you actually were. Giving him an awkward laugh you rub behind your neck, “Sorry, Flynn is across the hall and is trying to be distracting.”

“Flynn isn’t even in scho-”

“Sorry, Nick! Nice talking to you but I gotta go, bye!” Cutting Nick off quickly, you wave your hand before whirling around, walking in the opposite direction. A pair of shoes caught themselves up with you, and you knew who it was. The black and white vans were kind of a giveaway.

“I think that went well.”

“Shut up, Luke.”

. . .

Thankfully, your bad and embarrassing day didn’t get much worse. You managed to get through your first classes without Luke trying to annoy you anymore, which meant that you didn’t embarrass yourself even more and when it came to lunch you holed yourself up in the library. Being in the library meant that there was no one around to embarrass yourself in front of.

Your last class rolled around and you were trying to get your head down and do your work so that you could go home and forget that this day ever happened. It wasn’t going to get much worse than it already is considering the day was practically over, so you were just waiting for the time to pass by.

“Y/n, psst,” You hear a voice whisper from in front of you, making you look up. Maybe you spoke too soon, because there Luke is, sitting on the desk in front of yours, that was thankfully empty.

You knew that Luke just liked to talk to people other than Reggie and Alex from time-to-time and you were normally a good option but not in school. And especially not after the embarrassment that happened earlier on in the morning; that’s why you ignored him.

However, it seemed that Luke really wanted your attention and was willing to do anything to get it. Whether it be constantly talking to you, distracting you from doing your work, or humming new songs, he seemed to be doing anything to be annoying.

“What do you think about this one, n/n?”

Often, you were used to Luke just using your first name, so the sound of your endeared nickname falling off of his lips effortlessly caused your heart to flutter. Luke frowned a little, he knew you were listening, he could see you press your pencil down a little harder on your paper every time he spoke, almost as if you were trying to restrain yourself from answering him.

A smirk lit upon his lips, he knew exactly what to do. Jumping off of the table, he made his way over to your desk, taking the pencil out of your hand. Your eyes went wide but you knew you couldn’t make a big deal about it, imagine they seen you jumping after a floating pencil.

Looking up at Luke, you mouthed ‘Luke, put the pencil down’ with a glare, but Luke simply smirked at you. At this rate, you thought that Luke was just trying to get you grumpy. He brought the pencil down to your level to tease you but you caught onto it, tugging it closer to you.

Luke didn’t seem to want to let go, finally glad to get your attention but it shouldn’t have been a good thing, because he was just angering you even more.

Finally managing to yank the pencil off of Luke, you heard a voice whisper beside you, “Hey y/n, are you planning on actually doing any work, or are you gonna continue to cast spells with your pencil?”

The day definitely couldn’t get worse after that.

. . .

After that, you were determined to ignore Luke by any means necessary, even if he stole a pencil and let the class believe that the class was haunted. Thankfully enough, Luke realized that he shouldn’t push your buttons anymore and left you alone. On your walk home you practically wallowed in self-pity and embarrassment and found yourself swallowed in a hole of blankets and pillows watching a movie when you got into your bedroom.

You did not want to go back to school, and you found yourself dreading it more and more with each passing moment. After Luke realized how embarrassed you were the first time, he should've stopped, but he didn’t. Maybe he just liked to torture you and embarrass you in front of all of your peers.

It was a well-established thing that you liked Luke, not that he knew, of course, you knew he didn’t like you back like that. And after today, you struggled to believe he would ever see you as more; it was like he didn’t care about your feelings.

“Y/n, there you are,” Speak of the devil, “I need opinions on these new lyrics-”

“No, Luke. I’m busy.” You snap, eyes keeping on the screen. You hoped that he took the memo and stopped talking and left, but he didn’t, they never do.

Walking towards your bed, Luke sat beside you and grabs the remote that was tucked in between two blankets, holding it up to you, “No you aren’t, you’re only watching a movie. I’m sure you could stop it for two seconds.”

“What if I don’t want to?” You reply sassily, reaching for more popcorn that sat in the small bowl in front of you.

“What’s up with you?” Luke asks, his voice slightly annoyed as he looks at you. He seems confused like he’s completely oblivious to everything that happened today.

“What do you think is up with me?” You ask, finally turning to look at him, e/c eyes meeting the hazel ones you were so fond of.

Luke stares back at you with the same intensity, eyes looking over your blanket-covered figure before realization dawned on his face. Yet, with the realization, annoyance seemed to follow closely behind, “Is this because I embarrassed you in front of your crush?”

“I don’t have a crush on Nick!” Your voice is slightly louder than you had intended, but you don’t bother to apologize anyway.

Maybe you were both overreacting, and you were getting a little too defensive but you couldn’t help it. Luke didn’t seem to listen to you, you had already told him you didn’t like Nick, couldn’t he just listen to you for once in his life?

“Why are you shouting? I’m just asking a question,” Luke says, his voice calm. You had never expected the day where Luke would be the voice of reason between the two of you but here we are.

Eyes looking back up to meet Luke’s, a frown falls onto your face. Sighing, you feel guilt pool in your stomach, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have shouted at you.”

“It’s alright, y/n. I shouldn’t have embarrassed you in the first place. I’m really sorry,” You’re pretty sure that’s the first time you have ever heard Luke apologize to anyone, and you’re surprised at how sincere he sounded. Maybe Luke does care about your feelings more than you expected him to.

Soon enough, the calm and comfortable atmosphere you have created in the room because uncomfortable as you both sit in a silence. You don’t know what to say, or what to do but thankfully, Luke saves you from that.

“Listen, I- uh,” Luke hesitates to speak, feeling nervous when your attention is turned back to him. His gaze looks down at the bed before glancing back up, looking very fidgety under your gaze, “I’m sorry for what I did this morning. I don’t know I just seen Nick, and I thought you guys liked each other and I didn’t like it so I embarrassed you in front of him and that’s not okay.”

“You didn’t like it?” You ask with a smirk, quoting what Luke said as your smirk goes a bit wider. Noticing your words, Luke’s eyes go a little bit wider as he starts to stutter but you quickly end his stuttering, “Were you jealous, Patterson?”

It takes him a few moments to respond, your full body turning towards him when you begin to tease him. You had hoped that he was going to get embarrassed in front of you but that doesn’t seem to be the case. 

“Maybe I am, what are you gonna do about it?”

[formulinos]

Hyperfixation Corner | Review: Jacques VIlleneuve's Private Paradise

as a little celebration for my incredible mark of 300 followers, i wanted to do a very neat, very special hyperfixation corner! but since we're running on so little time and i'm very slowly doing my research for what i actually want to devote a long time, i decided to dive in the strange little world of jacques villeneuve for this small review of his 2007 cultural reset album "private paradise". i honestly am stunned. if you enjoy music, don't click in the jump after the cut tbh. but hey, you know you are curious to hear more about it!

(what the fuck! 300 followers!!!! thank you all SO VERY MUCH)

First of all, it's important to highlight that as much as this album SOUNDS as if it was done in 48 hours, it wasn't. Jacques started composing songs seriously (but as a hobby) in 1996, when he got into F1 (according to himself). He also took to himself to learn the piano in 97, so you know, he showed some affinity to music. In fact, as practically all three album reviews at the time will tell you, Seville Villeneuve was a piano teacher - hopefully not like Isabelle Huppert in that film - and taught it to Gilles, who also knew how to play the trumpet, very well if I say so. I'm gonna embed a video of it straight away because it's how I want to waste tumblr's one video rule:

Very nice. Anyway, his son Jacques started properly composing around 2000, taking five more years to decide to record some of those during Christmas. The madlad actually liked what he heard and, to be honest, driving for Sauber, he had enough time to devote himself to make a full LP. He got his sister, he got a bunch of friends, and he did 13 songs that I will never be able to forget in my life. After realeasing his first promo single "Accepterais-Tu ?"during the 2006 Canadian Grand Prix weekend (more on that later), Private Paradise was released to the world, and I'm sure that the 233 copies that were sold were very well enjoyed!

note: honestly, although it's pretty clear by now this is not a good one, i would like to put out a disclaimer that my own taste in music sucks. i'm not like The Other Girls, i listen to indie music, like arctic monkeys XD i also didn't get Sour, i'm honestly not proud of it because olivia rodrigo seems very dedicated to her aesthetic and her work and i wish i could enjoy it but it's not my type. basically, don't take music refs from me and don't believe that bc i didn't like it it means that if you did your taste in music suck. also tag your taylor swift i'm tired of everytime she releases a song you guys find a way to make graphics and parallels w her songs. 

Track 1 - Foolin’ Around: The second the album started playing and I heard the claps, snakes started manifesting in my house. It's never a good sign when a song starts with the beat in a folk rock album, and the guilar strums confirmed it. It's... derivative, it's incredibly generic, the lyrics are as deep as when I tried to learn bass guitar when I was 13 because I wanted to start a band after I listened to "A Hard Day's Night". But here's the thing, I knew when to stop, and this song didn't. It goes for too long, and the decision to repeat the WHOLE FUCKING THING after changing the pitch and a weird ass guitar solo is horrid. TBH all the songs in this are weirdly long, the whole album clocks at 54 min. Jacques would legit have benefitted from the Streaming pattern nowadays of 2 min 30 secs songs. 

Track 2 - You Are: He thought he ate with his vocals here, he really did and it's even heartbreaking. If Foolin' Around shows he doesn't know where to stop, You Are is the first evidence he didn't even know where to start (singing lessons). As always, the lyrics aren't deep at all, but it doesn't even matter bc it's kinda entertaining to hear him feel himself over his long notes. He struggles so much they had to resort to backing vocals in the same volume as the main ones... Absolute highlight to me!

Track 3 - Father: OK, they got me on this one. In fact, Melanie Villeneuve is the MVP of this album. As the title says, this is the Gilles Tribute Song, and to be fair, lovely. Melanie's voice is incredible, she conveys the emotion perfectly and hey, I'm not gonna slag off Jacques for not singing as well with his sister when you know, once you read the song lyrics, you can tell it's equal parts trying to honour and love their dad while also kind of dealing with the feelings of resentment for him not being there and for sometimes racing too hard and having to share their own grief with the legends of F1 fans who lost an idol. Fair play. I miss Gilles.

"It's a very important song. It's the only personal song on the album. I don't write personal stuff and I don't want to sing personal stuff either, but this one, because it's with my sister, I'm quite happy doing it."

Melanie singing 'Father' in the album launch, February 2007.

Track 4 - Tout Dire: Thankfully, Melanie's on-track involvement ends in Father and I can talk shit about Jacques in peace again. This one is iconic, tbh, he served it here. The whole gist of it is how some girl hurt routinely his feelings and he can’t act the same way as if nothing happened anymore. I think that his voice works better in French - barely but at least this song is more complex than the other two and feels less dated, or maybe French just matches the old people vibes of this album.

Track 5 - The Ones:  HONESTLY! FOR FUCK'S SAKE! This album is such a flop that there isn't a digitalised booklet anywhere and I almost considered buying a copy so that I could get more info on who else was involved in making this, but no one is selling this in here. If there isn't a single listing of your album in Brazil, you flopped. Anyway, the woman singing in this is Ely Breton and you need to put some respeck in her name because she sang for Cirque du Soleil's Delirium spectacle short after this. Lovely gal. Hate the song.

Ely killing the competition, same album launch in February 2007. There was literally one presentation of this ever and I beg them to #ReleaseTheVilleneuveCut

Track 6 - Accepterais-Tu ?: Jacques really listened to this once and said "I ended everyone's careers. This will be my lead single" and he thought it would be a good idea to release it BEFORE THE CANADIAN GRAND PRIX. This is where he lost the battle to Kubica, sincerely, if I was a backup driver I'd clown Jacques too. BMW Sauber probably talked to him after the German GP like "bruh honestly you can't come back. It's not because you're driving lazily and crashing the car all the time, it's because your song is complete wank". Even Steve Rider and Mark Blundell take the piss of him in this pre-race feature.

About the song itself: the thing about his French songs being more complex absolutely bites him back in the ass when he overdoes it. It's catchy, but in a way you wish brain bleach was a real thing and to make matters worse, he struggles SO hard with his vocals. If this was an IRL marriage proposal it would become a r/relationship_advice post in 2 months time.

Track 7 - Why Did You Come ?: IDK either dude. Again, it took me forever to find who is the milf singing in this with him and after quite a bit of googling, it seems to be Amélie Veille, who has a nice career it seems. Stream one of her songs instead. This one is completely forgettable and I got so tired looking for Amélie I forgot to write how I feel about it.

Yes. February 2007.

Track 8 - Vaguement: This is so dramatic and pointless... I don’t get the violins.. the Spanish Guitar vibes... the weird ass music video.... the way it's so long but then when it ends you’re like “what? now???"........ who did this.... electric chair...... my behated.....

Track 9 - Lullaby: I don’t know what overtook me, probably the hatred for Vaguement, but this one… was not so bad. Honestly, this wasn’t as much of a chore and it even gave space for some theorising because if you listen to it (and you are totally in the right not to), it sounds more of an adieu to F1 than a standard love song. Might also be quarantine brain but I feel like I’m realising things here and Mr. Villeneuve lied when he said Father was the only personal song in this album. All good work he did here was thrown out the window when he struggle vocals during the guitar breakdown and I found myself thinking of the superior Lullaby by The Cure. 

Track 10 - Private Paradise: 

It’s the title song and it absolutely fucks. Why lie for the tl? At this point I might have borderline Stockholm Syndrome but really, he looked camp in the eye and it looked back and they didn’t mind. He made an effort, it was cheesy and he embraced it. Let him have his little Coldplay moment! If there were more songs like this the album would have been more torelable. I absolutely hate how much I enjoyed this one

Track 11 - Étrangers: He bottled it but I am still under the effect of Private Paradise so I don’t even mind it. Again, another voice of an uncredited woman and unlike the other three, I can’t confirm nor deny who it is. I saw one single link that credited it to both Jacques and his half-sister Jessica (who if my math isn’t off was around 13-14 when they recorded it, such a prodigy!) but I failed to find anything on song credit databases.

Track 12 - Women Come Women Go: We get it Jacques you are sexist. I swear I laughed OUT loud at how he tried to rhyme “women” with “one man” KDJJSJSJJS PLEASEEEEEEEE not when the women featured throughout this mess didn’t save your day! Fuck off!!!!!

Track 13 - Mother Earth: FULL CIRCLE! THIS IS AS BAD AS THE FIRST SONG! If Lewis and Seb heard this ode to snow (Canadian or Swiss? It matters less than you think!) they would give up on all environment causes. Pair this with the Incel Manifest we just listened to and we can call it a Certified Jacques Moment. He’s so crazyyyyy I love him XD Oh, and the choir did their best!

Overall, I’m gonna grade this a 4/10 because I love Gilles. Basically, a 10 to all the women in this and a complete zero to Jacques. HOWEVER, I do have to cheer him on for the absolute balls it took to record this seriously and pursue his hobbies and while it does suck, again, I don’t think I would be able to do any better. Plus, it wasn’t just Jacques who went wrong here… several people listened to this and thought it was good enough to release it. Blame them equally!!! I think that if he did a sophmore album today, he would be better equipped. Good luck Jacques, don’t give up on your dreams and ignore the haters! To the rest of you lovely people that support me, thanks a lot and see you hopefully sooner than it seems! Screw you guys, I'm going home :D

[suna-reversed]

4 seats away

College!AU Iwaizumi x gn reader (part1/?)

Iwaizumi Hajime was an absolute mystery to you when you first met him. Despite being just 4 seats away, the distance between you seemed like oceans apart. Little did you know of just how the tides would turn to bring the two of you a little closer.

slowburn-friends to lovers-flufff

(warnings- cuss words, mentions of harassment)

a/n; this is my first ever fic so feedback would be appreciated!

Stepping onto your college campus for the first time, you felt both exhilarated and scared, but nonetheless, you were ready to take on your new life and all the adventures that it had in store for you. 

On the other hand, Iwaizumi Hajime was absolutely baffled by just how much california was different from the place that he had called his home. He had expected some adjustment difficulties but still, he wouldn't have guessed the cultural shock that hit him harder than that one ball he spiked at shittykawa’s head when they were second years. His lips twitched upwards at the thought of his best friend who he was miles away from. But then his eyes moved to the mess of cardboard boxes he still had to unpack, and just like that his face was set back into it’s usual stoic expression as his shoulders slumped and he got to work.

--------

2 months into college life and it had surpassed all your expectations of the freedom you had deemed to gain as a high school student. No, you weren't going to parties every single night, spending your day away drinking booze or getting high at 2 am while listening to arctic monkeys. But you could get waffles at 2:30 am if you wished to, eat nutella straight out the jar AND play the yarichin bitch club’s theme song on the living room television and dance around with your roommates with no judgment whatsoever. 

Who was there to judge you after all anyways?

Unfortunately, that carefree attitude crumbled to dust as you walked out your class, absentmindedly texting your friend, and immediately slammed into what seemed like a walking brick wall. It took you 3.5 seconds to hear the clutter of the books and stationery the stranger was carrying to fall onto the floor, and another second to snap back to reality. You hurriedly bent down and hastily gathered the mess while a string of almost incoherent apologies left your mouth.  Realising the lack of response from the mystery person, you snapped your head up wondering if you may have given them a concussion with just how hard you knocked into each other. Instead, you were met with honey brown orbs peering down at you from a face as cold as ice. You didn't even realise how hard you were staring until the unknown boy bent down, taking the items from your hands gently and gathering the rest from the floor. His husky but tender voice snapped you of your trance. He seemed to murmur an apology before slightly bowing and then stopping halfway as if he caught himself doing something wrong. Another “sorry” and a slight nod was all you got before he walked away. 

That was your first encounter with what seemed to be an ever perplexing and mysterious boy. Fortunately, it wasn't the last. 

---------

The next time you saw him was on the bus on your way to the cafe where you worked part-time. You didn’t realise his presence until you felt a pair of eyes boring into the back of your head with an intensity hard enough to cut through stone. As you turned your head around, your eyes locked onto each other. He was standing around 4 seats away from you, partially blocked by a middle aged man talking loudly on his phone. Instinctively, you waved at him with an awkward smile. To your surprise, he raised his hand back in greeting while giving you a slight nod. Just then, your pressed smile turned into a genuine one as the distance of those 4 seats seemed to lessen just a bit. 

-------

Since then, you had learned a little bit more about him. He had a class right next to yours. He didn't seem to interact much with too many people, but was always polite to everyone and had one constant friend who he was most often seen with. He was somehow also extremely oblivious to his popularity amongst the girls he had classes with (they had given him the title of the “mysterious hot foreign boy”). You truly questioned that when you once saw him try to baby talk to a cat while waiting for the bus, only for the cat to poke him right in the eye with its paw, leading to a very awkward 5 minutes of you asking him if he was okay and him reassuring you he was even though his eye twitched every two seconds. 

------

It was just another regular day for you travelling back from work. You had gotten onto the bus, followed your daily routine of acknowledgement given and received with “that one guy from college”, and went along your business bobbing your head along to the song you were listening to on your earphones. The bus was oddly crowded that day for a late afternoon in the middle of the week. Your senses seemed to heighten a little as you felt a tall figure enter your personal bubble. You tried to move around, but the task proved to be a little too difficult with the crowd and a seat right next to you blocking your way. A single road bump was all that was needed for the stranger to further invade your space as they pressed up against you, a hand slowly inching up your hip. Your breath hitched in your throat as you looked around with a panic filled expression, your eyes locking onto a pair of almond orbs you had grown too familiar with. 

It didn't even take Hajime a second to read your terror filled eyes and look down to realise the situation. And before he knew it, he was pushing through the crowd and physically placing himself right between you and the man. 

“Is there a problem?” he asked in an ever threatening tone to the man who was currently chuckling nervously as he cowarded away from Hajime's terrifying build. The man stuttered out an incoherent string of words that you were too shaken up to register before Hajime took one frightening step towards him, sending him scrambling away as far as possible in the stuffed bus. 

Hajime turned towards you, intending to move a step away from you to give you the much needed space. But before he could do that, he felt something tug onto the fabric of his jacket. Looking down, he saw your fist bundling up the corner of his jacket and he could have sworn he felt the sound of his heart break a little as he looked up to see a tear fall from your eyes as you sniffed slightly. 

“Hey, it's alright. Your name’s y/n right? You’re safe now y/n.” 

You were still too shaken up to wonder how he came to know your name or to even answer when he asked you if he should walk you back to your college dorm building. He took your fragile state as a yes as he simply signalled you to walk before him with a light tap to your arm when your stop came. You both walked in silence with you leading the way. When you reached right outside your dorm buidling, you finally looked up at him to thank him, only to see the smallest of smiles grace his lips as his eyes slightly darted down in between you two to where you still held onto his jacket. Your eyes widened as you realised you had never let go of it. That caused a small chuckle out of the usually stoic faced brunette. You found yourself letting out a nervous laugh as you pulled your hand away. 

“Oh god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t even realise it. And also sorry for the extra journey you had to make. I honestly don't know how to thank you for what you just di-” 

“It’s really not a problem. Besides, anyone would have done that. I just hope you are okay?” 

---------

The ice between you and Hajime hadn't been a slow process of thawing and melting. Instead, it had come crashing down and swept away as if in a thunderstorm. From that day onwards, Hajime himself had taken the initiative to cross the everlasting distance of those 4 seats between you. Small talks while standing next to each other soon enough turned into dying of laughter as Hajime made stupid faces at the baby in the arms of the woman in front, or the time you sneaked in a wholeass tub of ben and jerry’s and shared it with him right in front of the “no-food” sign on the bus. 

You learned something new about him almost everyday. He was majoring in sports science. He used to play volleyball in high school. He has a best friend who currently plays volleyball in a professional team in argentina. The said best friend also blames himself for why they did not go to nationals as third years even though that is absolutely not the case. Not that Hajime would ever tell him that. Hajime sometimes has extremely soft moments when you’re texting late at night, thus leading to appreciative conversations about his best friend. Not that he would ever address him as that on a regular day, instead opting for shittykawa or trashykawa and many other terms, that, as pointed by you, seemed to be getting lazier by the day on a creative level. At this point, you’re sure you know his best friend more than he knows himself. 

Anyways, back to Hajime; he’s weirdly good at carnival games (much proven by his 5 time winning streak over you in the bucket toss). He always ends up choosing the dinosaur plushie as his prize (you now have an ever increasing collection of dinosaur plushies by your bed). 

He loves staying healthy and learned how to make all his favourite foods from back home in the first two months of coming to Cali. His favourite being agedashi tofu, which he now has to make for you at least once a week since you have been obsessed with it ever since you first tried it from his plate (he acts like he’s pissed about it but low key loves seeing how your face lights up whenever you see him with a lunchbox in front your class). He’s very attentive to whatever you say or do and will happily watch your favourite anime/movie/show as long as you're willing to watch all the godzilla movies with him. 

There is still so much to learn for you to learn about Hajime, and you are more than willing and ready to do so. However, there are a few things that you don’t know of and Hajime would like to keep it that way. Like how he looks over at you with such tenderness in his eyes while you’re laughing at a video of puppies falling over, or how his heart swells with joy whenever you get on your tiptoes to fix his hair, or how sometimes he’ll catch your face just right in the sunlight and suddenly he’ll feel like everything would fall apart if he so much as breathes too loud. But you’d always snap him out of it by poking your tongue out at him while making the silliest of faces and he’d flick your nose in response, and once again he’d ground himself into the moment, simply enjoying the fact that you exist, you’re here, and you’re with him. He mentally thanks himself for crossing those 4 seats that led him to being this close to you almost every other day. But he wonders if he’ll ever be able to get past his cowardice and admit that maybe he wants you to be just a little bit more closer. 

[pixelwisp-archive]

i want more orimakki 😩 !!! pls answer these q's i rly wanna know 🥺

Flora I love you so MUCH oh my god thank you for feeding me TT-TT (also I'm ABSOLUTELY SENDING THIS BACK FOR YOU AND OSAMU I WANNA KNOWWWW)

I’m gonna answer these Interview style because it sounds fun to do and because I can😌

This ended up taking me SO long because, per usual, I got way too carried away lmao I'm so sorry

Makki is blue and I'm orange! (Interviewer is red lmao)

1. Who loves flower crowns more?

“Ori, for sure”

“I’m bad at making them though, so I make Hiro make them for me” 

Makki looks at her like😒 and she laughs - he bites back a smile.

2. Who is the one who likes to cuddle?

"Hiro, for sure - I get a little weird about physical affection"

"She hates me"

"That's not true bub, you're just so hot"

"Thanks babe, I think you're pretty cute too"

Ori rolls her eyes and elbows him. "Next question"

3. Who has awful taste in music?

*simultaneously* "Hiro" "Me"

4. Who is the meme lover?

"I run a relatively popular account on instagram"

"I wake up every day to at least 30 new memes that he's spammed my phone with"

5. How did their second date go?

Ori starts laughing as Makki groans.

"He tried to take me to a park for a picnic-"

"Listen it would have been romantic but there was this fucking-"

"raccoon coming to grab our food-"

"and of course Ori is a dumbass ("HEY") and was ready to pet the literal wild animal ("he was so cute :(") so I tried to like shoo it away but-"

"It bit him and we ended up just sharing a cheese stick in the hospital"

"It was a disaster, to say the least"

"It's still one of my favorite dates, though"

"You just like seeing me in pain"

Ori laughs. "Not True!"

6. How many children do they want/have?

"17"

"absolutely not"

"we've talked about having two, maybe three"

"with a couple years in between. Gotta make sure they bully each other. It's important for character growth"

"We'll be sure to bully the oldest so they're not a weirdo like their mom"

Ori nods in agreement.

7. Who hides the weapons?

"I have a knife collection, does that count? I keep them in a display case on the wall"

8. Who is the better dancer?

Makki laughs. "Oh, me for sure"

"YOU?"

"Have you seen your dancing babe?"

"Have you seen YOUR dancing? What the hell is this?" *imitates this god awful windmill move*

"...okay, valid. We're both bad."

9. Do/Did they have a theme wedding?

"We're not married, marriage is for chumps."

Makki sighs. "We're not married *yet*."

"Gross, tryna tie me down stinky?"

"Been trying for years, bub"

Ori blushes, and looks away to hide her smile.

"...maybe"

Makki grins and leans in. "What?"

"I said maybe. I just-"

"I know, baby. Maybe is all I need."

10. What do their parents think of them dating?

"My parents are in love with Ori."

"My parents love him too!"

"Even your dads?"

"Yeah, my dads love you"

"Your step dad doesn't seem to like me much"

Ori furrows her brows. "which one?"

"I'm sorry, did you say 'which one?'"

"Oh, sorry. I have three dads. My mom, my dad, and then their husbands"

"I don't know, your mom's husband doesn't seem like he's warmed up to me"

"It took him years to even warm up to me. He shared his pot roast recipe with you, remember? that was his seal of approval"

Ori giggles while Makki looks at her suspiciously but eventually mumbles "if you say so"

11. Are they a super sappy couple?

"She clowns the shit out of me whenever I try"

Ori laughs. "I'm sorry I just don't know how to act when I'm embarrassed"

"I'm trying to woo you, not embarrass you, you jackass"

"*woo* me?!" Ori cackles

"I don't know why I even try"

(She goes up to him later, and takes his face in her hands, her demeanor more serious than before

"Hey, bub. You know I don't mean *you* embarrass me right? I just get awkward about affection"

He sighs and nuzzles into her palm

"I know you didn't, it's ok. I just love you too much sometimes, and its hard to reel it in"

"I love you too. So so much"

"I am gonna ask you to marry me someday. You know that?"

"I know, and my simp ass is gonna say yes. How gross is that"

Makki rolls his eyes, a smile on his face

"So gross")

12. How did they get together?

"We danced around each other for like 2 years"

"it was painful"

"Iwaizumi finally beat the confidence into me enough to kiss her"

"I don't know that you ever actually asked me out"

"Really? Oh, well then, wanna date?"

"Nah, you're a little weird"

"Damn ok, guess I'll call Mattsun" Ori laughs

13. Who asked the other to get married?

*more gagging noises while Makki sighs*

"It'll be me, clearly"

14. Who stays up too late and makes stupid jokes?

"Hiro. 100%"

"Hey, you stay up late too!"

"I know, but my jokes are always funny"

"rude"

15. Who is the nerd?

"Oh my god it's Ori"

"Hey, I converted you, fellow nerd. plus, you have a knife collection - if that's not nerd shit idk what is"

"touché"

16. Who knows the most obscure facts?

"Hiro"

"Did you know that penguins have knees?"

"I do now"

17. Who makes the other a flower crown?

"Hiro! His fingers are better suited for the weaving, I have weirdly small hands"

"Hey, I like your hands"

"Awh, babe<3"

18. Who likes to read?

"I do! If I'm not reading a physical book I'm always reading something on my phone!"

19. Who bothers the other person while the other person reads?

Makki grins, pointing to himself while Ori shoots him a playful glare

20. Who tutors the other?

"Hiro is actually wicked smart. He an invaluable study buddy"

"Ori is the definition of a bimbo"

"Nah I'm the shebo, I'm not hot enough to make bimbo status"

"Excuse me? Consensus says you are both very hot AND definitely belonging in the bimbo category"

"Consensus? What consensus"

Makki smiles, a little too innocently. "Group Chat"

"Oh my god"

21. Do they have similar taste in movies?

"Ori enjoys literally everything so it's really easy to find common ground"

"We change it up a lot, but we're usually end up with either a horror movie or we binge an anime"

22. How do their personalities compliment each other?

"We're both fucking weirdos"

"Yeah, and Hiro's calm complements my loud - he grounds me when I need it"

"goes both ways - I get loud too. Feelings are loud sometimes and that's ok"

Ori snorts. "Ok, dr.phil"

23. How do they tell everyone that they are going to be having a kid/adopting a child soon?

"Is like, texting them an option?"

"We'll take em' out for breadsticks or something"

"Oh lets have them open up like a lil onesie, our moms would die"

Ori laughs "What's it gonna say on it"

"'You're both grandmas now. Congrats, you old bitches'"

Ori wheezes, folding in on herself in her seat

"That's so fucking stupid, we are absolutely doing that"

24. Who has better fashion sense?

"Look at us. Look at how we're dressed"

"There are holes in my shirt"

"and that's his nice shirt"

"In my defense, it had holes when I bought it"

"So holes are fashionable now?"

"Apparently"

"Hobo chic"

25. Who will punch someone out if they are rude to their partner?

"Ori is a doormat-"

"RUDE"

"-Lemme finish babe - until it comes to her people. If someone's rude to me she is ready to throw hands in seconds flat"

"damn straight...would you fight for me?"

"Of course. you think I wouldn't?"

"Just making sure<3"

26. What songs do they sing together in the vehicle?

"EVERYTHING"

27. What other couple would your otp get along with?

Ori perks up "Flora and Osamu!!! I love the both of them so much, they're so cute together too"

"They're great people, plus Osamu gives us free food and honestly, what else do you need in a friend"

Ori slaps Makki's shoulder "Stop acting like you only like Osamu for his cooking"

"I'm only kidding!"

28. Who likes to prank the other?

"Ori does this thing where she'll do something nice for me and then go "get pranked!" when I notice"

"I do indeed do that"

"I am not kind. Sometimes I'll just, buy an air horn. And press it. while she's asleep."

Ori glares at Makki

"he does indeed do that"

29. Who is the one who loves to take pictures?

"I do"

"He's alwaysss taking pictures, but I hate getting my picture taken and he's super respectful of that"

"...yeah"

(Later, when Ori's stepped out for a minute

"I do take pics of her. She doesn't know it but I do"

Makki starts to show off an album full of candids of Ori

Makki sighs, a soft smile on his face "She's so pretty"

"Don't tell her about this please, she'll murder me")

30. How would they react if they found out they were soul mates?

"Oof"

"That's what you'd say? Oof?"

"It's an oof for you. stuck? with me? forever?"

"you doofus, there's no one else I'd rather have"

"you little fucker, you're gonna make me cry"

makki laughs and squeezes her hand "love you stinky"

Ori sniffles "Yeah I love you too I guess"

31. Where would they live?

"right now we live in an apartment in Osaka-"

"but eventually we wanna by a house. We're thinking of going back home to Miyagi"

"We miss the small town atmosphere"

32. What type of dragon would they own, if they could have one?

"oh my god, a little shoulder dragon would be so cute"

"ok but imagine how much money we'd save with something we could ride to work"

"shit, you're so right"

33. If they were both vampires, what type of vampires would they be?

"There are types of vampires?" looks to Makki, Makki shrugs

"Is dying an option?"

34. What would they dress up as, for Halloween?

"we do themed couple ones but like, not sexy ones"

"yeah, like for instance our friends went as a fireman and his girl was a dalmation, and we were-"

"bob ross and his panting!"

"...she was bob ross"

"this year I'm trying to get him to dress as mothman so I can dress up as a lamp"

35. Can they name each other’s favourite food?

"Ori loves chicken to the point where it's almost concerning"

"Hiro likes cream puffs"

"No no, they're Profiteroles"

"they're the same thing babe"

"but profiteroles sound so much fancier"

36. Do they have pet names for one another?

"The usual"

"Babe, baby-"

"stinky, fuckass-"

"bubs-"

"doofus, dumbass, nerd"

"nothing crazy"

37. How do they cheer each other up?

"I swear to god he's a psychic - he always knows exactly what I need. Sometimes I need space, sometimes I just need a hug, other times he'll have a whole self care night in prepared for me when I get home"

"Ori always knows what to do. She's not a snuggler but she will let me hold her for hours if it meant making me feel better. Honestly most of the time she holds me because - well, boobs"

"Takahiro!"

Makki laughs and jerks away as she pinches his side

38. Do they show a lot of PDA?

"I think we're not too bad. We hold hands, I'll give her the occasional kiss. She lets me wrap my arm around her sometimes"

"These questions are making me feel like a bad girlfriend. Let? :("

"hush, you're the best. You think I'd stick around if you were a bad girlfriend? Do you know how obsessed with you I am? The boys clown me for never shutting up about you even after all this time"

*Ori buries her face in her hands to hide the blush* "Oh my god you're so lame"

"That's her way of saying she loves me too :)"

39. How old were they when they got together?

"I was 22, Ori was 20"

"holy shit, almost four years?"

"Yep"

"wow"

40. Who is the one that would bring the puppy home?

"Me!"

"She's done it before. She named her Ripley"

41. Can they do yoga couple’s poses?

both start cackling "Absolutely not. We can try but it would be a disaster"

42. What is their song?

"Oh its-"

Castaways from the Backyardigans starts playing from Makki's phone as he grins.

"-our song is not Castaways, Hiro"

"It could be. We could decide it is right now"

"We are not making our song Castaways"

"oh c'moooonnnnn, it's a bop!"

Ori laughs "Its-"

"Your song by Elton John. It was playing when we kissed for the first time"

Ori covers her smile with her hand, her eyes soft as she looks at Makki

43. What does their room look like?

"A mess right now, Ori had to find an outfit for today so there are clothes everywhere"

Ori grins sheepishly

44. Who would be the one to kill zombies while the other keeps them grounded?

"Hiro would probably do the killing, I would be moral support"

"I dunno babe, I think if you snapped you could totally become a badass"

"You think so?"

"Hell yeah, I've seen you get mad at Mattsun enough times to know you can get scary as hell when you wanna"

45. Who makes the other breakfast in bed?

"we've done it for each other, it depends on the day to be honest"

46. Who loves kids more?

"Ori"

"But the kids LOVE Hiro so much its crazy, and he's so good with them"

"I like kids well enough but they're so rude and for what"

"I find their lack of filter funny!"

"If you ever feel your ego is too big, just talk to a seven year old. They'll drag to hell and back with no hesitation"

47. Do either of them have a crazy ex?

"I dunno. Do you?"

"No. Do you?"

"Nope"

"Cool"

48. What are their favourite colours?

"Hiro's is this very specific red color"

"Ori doesn't have one, it changes all the time"

"this is true"

49. Who likes to cook?

"Oh I love cooking!"

"She does majority of the cooking but we sometimes cook together"

"he is utter chaos in the kitchen but we always have a good time, even if he make my blood pressure go through the roof"

50. Who is the forgetful one?

"Hey Ori, what'd you have for breakfast this morning."

"I- um. An Iced Coffee?"

"Final answer?"

"....yes"

"Bzzzt. Wrong. You had cereal :)"

51. Does either of them know how to fight?

"I don't mean to brag, but I've taken Tai chi lessons"

"Babe, you signed up for those lessons after we binged Avatar, and you only went to four of those classes before quitting because it was too hard"

"Those four lessons taught me enough to kick someone's ass for you though"

Ori laughs "I'm sure they did"

52. What do they do for Valentines Day?

"We have this tradition of going to the store and each of us take turns blindly picking out snacks, pajamas, and either a movie/video game/or craft project and we stay in and have a little pamper day"

"we also absolutely RAID the store next day when the candy is half off"

53. Who swears more?

"We both swear a lot to be honest"

"Oh my god we're so bad"

54. Who has the better comebacks?

"Hiro, 100%"

"Ori is quick too though"

"But you go right for the jugular"

"I'm not mean to you though"

"Oh no! I just mean with others, like Oikawa - you drag that man within an inch of his life"

Makki laughs "Oh ok yeah that's fair"

55. Who would start a fight with another parent at a bake sale?

"Me. Like I said, Ori is a doormat. She is so afraid of confrontation someone could literally spit on her and she'd apologize to them"

"It sounds so bad when you put it like that"

56. Who reads buzzfeed?

"Hiro says he does them ironically, but I'll be reading something on my phone and he'll start asking me obscure questions, and then I realize he's trying to get me to build a smoothie so he can find out with 'Desperate Houswife' I am"

"She got Gabrielle"

"Which isn't even accurate, I'm totally more of a Susan"

"You have some of Gabrielle's spice, though"

"What did you get?"

"Me? oh, I got Lynette"

"kinda accurate, actually"

57. Who is the hopeless romantic?

"I am, she makes fun of me but I know she loves it"

"I do, honestly"

58. Do either of them know how to do a handstand?

"I do!"

59. Who can rap better?

"oh god, neither of us"

"speak for yourself"

"go on babe, rap for them"

"...well I can't right now"

"exactly"

60. Do either of them want to go sky diving?

"I'd be down"

"I love the idea of it but oof, I'm too chicken shit"

61. What do they usually text about?

Makki pulls out his phone

"'hey babe, we're out of eggs' - that was Ori"

"'dog' - with a pic attached of said dog, that was from me"

"11/10, 'I hope he knows what a good boy he is', that was Ori's response"

"Then Ori ranted to me about Uraraka's character development"

"the wasted potential is appalling"

"absolutely it is. 3 hours later, from me - 'I forgot eggs'"

62. Who is the dramatic one?

"me, for sure"

"She's self aware though so its not so bad"

63. Is either one confrontational?

"Not really? We both avoid confrontation whenever possible. If something needs to be said though, I don't really have any reservations about it"

64. What is their favourite cuddle position?

"Me as the big spoon, I much prefer holding him I think, its less hot that way"

"Plus, boobs :3"

Ori groans as Makki laughs "I hate you"

65. Who are their favourite musical artist(s)?”

"Ooooh thats a toughie, we listen to so much"

66. What are their parenting styles?

"I tend to be the bad guy"

"That's not true!"

"Why do you think kids like you better? I'm the one who makes them eat veggies for a snack and you bribe them with ice cream"

"I promise we'll share the bad guy role when we have our own"

Ori narrows her eyes at Makki, sticking her tongue out at him "we better"

67. Who would be the more laid back one?

"Hiro, I get wound like a fucking top sometimes"

"You stress easily, but its ok, when you're stressed you get mean and its kinda hot"

"I'm glad my breakdowns are sexy to you"

Makki laughs "You know that's not what I meant"

68. Who listens to more vulgar music?

"Ehh, neither of us really"

"not our jam"

69. Do either of them have secrets even the other doesn’t know?

"...do you?"

"....no"

"That was suspish"

"I'm sorry did you just say 'suspish'?"

"don't change the subject! what are you hiding?"

"Nothing!! I swear"

"Pinky?"

"Pinky"

(later, while Ori's out of the studio, he shows a picture of the ring to the camera.

"So, yeah. There is one secret. I'm really bad at lying though so let's not put me on the spot like that anymore please" The man looks d a m p with sweat lmao)

70. Who is their go to couple for a double date?

"FLOSAMU, 100%. We're overdue too, I miss them!"

71. Do they tip the waiter/waitress on their date?

"Generously"

"If you don't tip you're a jackass"

72. How do they work out a fight?

"Communication is key. We often give each other the silent treatment but it usually is just to clear our heads so we can come back to talk it out"

"He's so mature when it comes to our relationship. The way he takes charge when I'm flailing and don't know what to do or how to proceed is so sexy" Ori starts fanning herself as if to emphasis her point, a teasing grin plastered on her face

73. Who brings home an illegal pet?

"Hiro will bring anything home if it's injured. It could be a snake and if he's worried its hurt I will come home to it in the bath"

"you gotta save the animals, babe"

"Most people would call a wildlife facility though, not take them to their tiny city apartment"

74. What side of the bed do each of them sleep on?

"I sleep on the left! I don't think either of us are particularly picky about it though"

"We usually wake up sprawled anyway with no clear sign of where we were before"

75. What is their favorite photo of them two together?

"There's a picture someone took of us dancing at a wedding. Ori is mid laugh in that photo and she's just - shit, she's so pretty."

"Hiro what the fuck why are you so sappy today"

"I dunno - I just think you're neat"

Ori's lips tremble a tiny bit. She sniffles. "It's my favorite photo too."

76. Who takes longer in the bathroom?

"Oh my god-"

"Okay-"

"SHE TAKES FOREVER"

"OKAY, LISTEN-"

"SHE ONLY GOES ON TIKTOK WHEN SHE GOES TO THE BATHROOM"

"I JUST GO THROUGH MY NOTIFICATIONS"

"SHE IS NEVER - STOP HITTING ME - SHE IS NEVER QUICKER THAN 30 MINUTES"

"YOU ARE SO DRAMATIC"

"DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON SHOWERS"

77. Who has more songs on their ipod?

"Hiro, I kinda keep to the stuff I know, while he's constantly adding new music"

78. What movie did they first see together?

"Uhhh I think it was-"

"It was Princess Mononoke, you were appalled when I said I hadn't seen it yet"

"Honestly I still am. How do you go through 20 years of your life without having seen Princess Mononoke?" Ori shrugs

79. What do they like to see each other in?

"nothing"

"not sure what I expected, really"

"I mean was there really any other answer?"

80. Who makes jokes during inappropriate times?

"Oh god. Both of us. We are so terrible"

"Sometimes Ori will nudge me if I'm being especially bad but she is usually the one egging me on because there is nothing cuter than her trying to hold in a laugh"

81. At what age do they discuss the possibility of children?

"We started talking about it a few months ago"

"It wouldn't be any time soon either, its just discussing the topic so we know where each of us stand"

"Yeah, there's still a lot for us to figure out"

"Like, you know, finances and getting married and stuff"

Ori bites her lip "...yeah, and stuff."

82. What do they love about each other the most?

"It's probably a cop out to say everything"

"please, you don't love everything, I'm a mess"

"but you're MY mess" Ori smiles and kicks him playfully

"This is going to sound super cheesy, but I just love his heart? He's loves so loudly and so wholly. With everyone and everything around him. He's just such a good person and it's insane to think he somehow chose to be with me, a human dumpster"

"You were so romantic until you called yourself a dumpster"

"It was getting too soft, I gotta keep my bruh girl reputation"

"You're such a dork"

83. Who is the one that sees the big picture, while the other focus’s on the small details?

"I think we're both kind of big picture people"

"No, babe, you are obsessive over minute details"

"No I'm not!"

"Everything takes you twice as long because you are constantly quadruple checking if its ok"

"..."

"and you get so stressed when you're given a project or a problem that's even the tiniest bit vague"

"well, I-"

"And don't even get me started on when you're cleaning, you always take forever because you go through every single item you've ever owned even if you know you're gonna toss or keep it"

"Okay, I feel really attacked right now" Makki laughs

84. What would they write on their partner’s social media’s for their anniversary?

"I usually go with a tried and true mixture of sappy and funny. I post a couple photo of us that I like or just a standalone of him and I give a cute little snippet talking about how lucky I am"

"Every year I just go on a rant about how much I love her. I'm always overwhelmed on anniversaries so I keyboard smash my way through the post."

85. Who is bad at math?

"Me, I don't understand any of it. Hiro is actually pretty good at it though"

86. Who googles everything?

"I've caught her trying to google where her glasses are"

"OKAY to be FAIR I was googling to see what the most likely places would be, it was just to give me ideas"

"And where were they?"

"*sigh* in the fridge"

"why?"

"because I was on autopilot and I assumed it was the butter"

87. Who does stuff on impulse?

"Oh, me. Ori does sometimes but she always regrets whatever she impulse did"

"its normally shopping and then I'm sad because I'm broke again"

88. How do they comfort each other when they are helpless to do anything about the situation?

"honestly? We learned this the hard way, but...just being there, letting them know they can lean on you when they need to. Being a pillar and giving them the space and comfort to let them tell you what they need and how you can help. Communication is so important in a relationship"

"You said you learned that the hard way? What do you mean by that?"

Ori and Makki share a look

"It's a long story. Another time, maybe"

89. What is an inside joke they have?

They both immediately start laughing

"Are you also thinking-"

"Yes! What about-"

"*incoherent wheezing*"

"well there's the-"

"or the-"

"oh my god remember-"

all the sentences go unfinished, laughter dissolving any chance of you ever figuring any of them out.

90. Who makes the other smile with almost no effort at all?

"I think its mutual, sometimes we will literally just look at each other and we'll smile without even realizing it."

"We're so gross"

"Ugh, I know." But they smile at each other

91. What is their favourite holiday?

"New years! Christmas is always nice but its stressful with gift giving. New years is always stress free and a good time, plus Ori loves visiting the shrines the next day"

"It's so peaceful, and seeing everyone pay their respects fills me with an overwhelming appreciation for humanity."

92. Who is the one that is calm and collected while the other is angry and destructive?

Ori pouts.

"I'm the angry one. I know I am. I'm a menace"

"You're not a menace babe, you just feel a little more than others"

"Are you like high right now or something? What has got you so wise and therapist-y"

"Love." Makki wiggles his eyebrows as she scoffs, her soft giggles betraying the eye roll

93. What is their favourite board game to play?

"Clue!"

94. Who accidentally sets something on fire?

"Okay, it's me, it's happened more than once too"

"She doesn't know the first thing about safety in the kitchen"

"I want to argue so bad but I just know I can't" she sighs

95. Who has the car ready while the other is robbing the store?

"I'm robbing. Ori would get distracted"

"valid"

96. What artist/group did they go to for their first concert?

"Mother Mother"

"It was INSANE"

97. Who sleep talks?

"Hiro does" Ori starts giggling, pulls up the sleep app on her phone

"Wanna listen?"

98. Who is the more social one?

"Oh, me, definitely. She is more talkative but Ori rarely initiated conversation with new people or if she's in a new environment at all"

99. What are their karaoke songs?

"I have to be absolutely trashed before we even attempts Karaoke but we do a duet and its either Bohemian Rhapsody or one of our cheesy love songs"

100. Who would get up on stage and make a fool of themselves just to make the other laugh?

"Hiro!! He does it all the time and I love him for it"

"Awh, love you too babe"

"And that's a wrap!"

Makki looks at Ori, grabbing her hand and instinctively intertwining their hands together. "Ready to go, stinky?"

Ori smiles, bringing their entangled hands up to lips as she presses a soft kiss to his skin.

"Ready."

[andyet-here-we-are]

I Would Get Into Millions of Accidents Just to See You, Chapter 1

For @wolfgeralt as a little ‘thank you’ for his stunning art -which I really adore, you can see it here: (x)

and for @hecky-heckicravedeath (x) who gave me inspiration for this fanfiction. Also Thanks @3tothe1 for being my beta. (You’re such a sweetheart, and I love you so much)

Anyway,  I hope you like it, my dear Witchlings! 💛

I present you: NURSE GERALT!  

Chapter 1 Word Count: 2461

ao3: (x) 

Chapter 2 Tumblr link: (x) Chapter 3 Tumblr link: (x) Chapter 4 Tumblr Link: (x)

When Geralt arrives for his shift, still feeling exhausted from yesterday, he has no idea what’s waiting for him at the hospital. His days are never too ordinary because you never know what you’ll come across.

That’s a part of being a nurse.

But he could never think that one of the not-so-famous musicians, his daughter, Ciri adores, was going to have a terrible traffic accident—which somehow isn’t on the news—and end up in the hospital he works at.

He already knows his name since Ciri just can’t stop talking about how nice he is and how he sounds like an angel. To the point where sometimes Geralt wants to say “Okay he is wonderful, so kind and lovely and you really love him, I get it. Can you please just keep eating your pasta? Yes Ciri, yes, I know that pasta is his favorite food, you say that every time we’re having pasta. ”

Geralt isn’t there for his intake, apparently, the accident happened last night, and the musician was badly injured.

Jaskier has a ruptured spleen that caused internal hemorrhaging, which the doctors were able to repair. He also has a mild concussion, a couple of broken ribs, along with some cuts and a broken leg which he is probably going to need another surgery for.

Since the other nurse who was responsible for Jaskier last night,  is having some family issues and has to take his annual leave, Jaskier is in Geralt’s care now, they let Geralt know.

When Geralt is home, Ciri starts talking about how Jaskier hadn’t posted anything in two days, and how worried she is since Jaskier had promised them a new song, “He never breaks his promises,” she says.

Geralt thinks that keeping the fact that the young man was in a traffic accident to himself is a better idea.

***

Three days later, when Geralt cracks open the door to Jaskier’s room, the man still sounds asleep, his chest rising and falling with every slow breath he takes as the morphine keeps dripping into his system. It’s enough to keep him subdued, if not completely pain-free.

He checks his IV, and takes a few notes onto his clipboard, right before the musician comes to, his eyelids fluttering.

And damn if he hasn’t got the most breathtaking eyes he has ever seen in his whole life. Even when they lack the spark Geralt is sure they normally hold in them.

Jaskier is confused, of course. So he tells him about what has happened and clears his throat before speaking.

“Mr. Pankratz, I need to take your vitals and then give you some medicines for the pain, may I have your arm?”

“Hell you can, might as well take my poor heart that seems to be beating for—”  Jaskier flirts and coughs before he has the chance to finish, his voice is low and hoarse from lack of use.

Geralt makes no comments, and fills a cup of water for him instead, helping him to drink it. He is surprised by the musician’s flattering words, and he is also glad that he is good at keeping a neutral expression on his face.  

“…you.” He finishes. “Well, I would normally use the ‘am I dead and in Heaven?’ cliché, but, see,” Jaskier keeps talking after sipping some water “I’m in too much pain to think that I’m in heaven. You sure look like a sexy angel or something though.  Ohoho, are you gonna give me a sponge bath, too? Just wondering. If so, I’m totally down for it. Just so you know.”

Geralt can’t help but snort at that a bit, “Do you always talk that much?”

“Maybe it’s you who doesn’t talk enough, you ever considered that?” Jaskier teases, and then suddenly his whole playful expression changes like he remembered that he had left his cat on the stone, and he frowns to himself, “Oh God, three days you said? Shitshitshit,” he drops his head back onto his pillows in a way too dramatic manner, covering his eyes with one hand “I had promised them a new song,” the nurse hears him mumbling “I am such an idiot.”

Jaskier truly seems so disappointed in himself that Geralt feels the need of comforting him. The man had a traffic accident, for crying out loud!

And yet, he is concerned for his fans because he couldn’t keep his promise, rather than being worried for himself.

Not even an hour has passed since he had the chance to talk to the man, but he already can see why Ciri likes this guy that much.

“It’s not your fault that some idiot decided that running a red light and colliding with your car was a good idea,” Geralt says “don’t beat yourself up over it.”

Jaskier still seems disappointed, but he mumbles a silent 'thank you’ before he says “ you may be right, but I promised them.”

***

Days go like this: Jaskier keeps flirting with him every time Geralt steps into his room to check on him and give him his medicines. Geralt never flirts back because of obvious reasons, but he never tells him to stop either, even though he does judge him with his eyes now and then.

The moments Geralt can spend with the man is the most he feels happy at work.

He can’t even deny that at this point.

Ciri keeps asking him why he looks happier nowadays, and why he suddenly became clumsy all of a sudden because he loses his focus easily.

“Who is the reason behind your smile? I gotta know! C’mon, it’s not fair! Don’t leave me hanging like this!”  She insists, being the stubborn girl she is, and after a second she grins like cheshire cat “You’ve finally met someone special?”

“…I might have, pumpkin”  is his answer. “I might have.”

***

He doesn’t know why, but Geralt doesn’t like Thursdays. Well, it’s probably because everything bad has ever happened to him seemed to happen on Thursdays, usually.

And sadly, this Thursday is no exception.

Hank, a seventy years old man who has been here for more than a month, and who has been very ill passes away. Who he had become really close with and really cared about.

Jaskier catches his change of mood when he goes to check on him and simply says, “Talk to me. I mean, you don’t have to. But you look like you could use a friend. And I’m so bored of watching television anyway.”

So Geralt talks to him.

He talks about Hank, about how wise he was. He talks about how he has been working here for years but how it still affects him so much when someone passes away. How he doesn’t suppose to feel a connection with his patients, how terrible of a nurse that makes him.

“That makes you human, not a terrible nurse.” Jaskier assures him, his voice as gentle as always. “Believe me. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

Geralt isn’t sure when Jaskier’s hand finds his hand as they talk, and when his dainty looking, long fingers link with his; but the intimate gesture feels so natural, so right that he just lets him.

***

Jaskier has surgery for his right leg the next day, and it’s not the first time that Geralt hears his patients saying the most ridiculous things after their surgery, thanks to the sedation.

But oh boy, if Jaskier doesn’t take it to a whole new level.

“Maaarry meee, my dear nurse!” the musician yells, “we could make the most adorable babies together! One of them would have my voice, one of them would have your weirdly sexy brooding or something. One of them would have my…. my tongue?  Or eyes? Cheeks! Yes, cheeks. And the other would have your lips while the other would have your… DIMPLE! I love that cute dimple you have on your jaw! ”

Geralt laughs, because how can he not?

“That’s biologically impossible.” the nurse says. “Also how many kids you have in mind? That was awfully a lot.”

“Hmm, let’s see. Marie, Duchess,” Jaskier starts to count with his fingers, and he looks so damn adorable that Geralt finds it extremely hard to not just reach out and ruffle his hair. “Thomas O'Malley, Toulouse, and Berlioz. So, six!”

“It’s five, actually,” Geralt tilts his head to the side slightly and corrects him with a fond, little smile. “So… you’re planning to name your kids after The Aristocats?”

“Our kids, mind you. And I’m not straight, love. You can’t expect me to do the math, I don’t make the rules.”

Love.

He just called Geralt ‘love’

“He probably calls ‘love’ everyone,” the nurse reminds himself and swallows, not being able to focus on what Jaskier says for a minute or so. “You’re no special.”

But the way Jaskier utters that one word, makes him feel like he is lying to himself.

When he can finally focus on what he is saying,  Jaskier is still talking about the same topic.

“…and you should be grateful that I’m not planning to name them after Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles! If we’re gonna have more than six, I’m totally doing that though.”

“Why Mr. Pankratz, we’re not even married yet. But I already don’t have a say in anything, it seems.” Geralt can’t help but tease with the young man in return.

Jaskier waves one hand weakly: “Don’t take this as my marriage proposal though, I’m better than that. If I were to propose to you I would do that in the most wonderful way. Roses, candles, and everything. Even fireworks.”

Geralt remains silent, so Jaskier talks again: “And ya know, joking aside, actually we couldn’t name them unless we adopted them when they were babies.”

“Why do you want so many kids?” the nurse wonders, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, growing up in a foster care system will do that to you,” Jaskier lets out a loud and somehow cute yawn.

Geralt knows that he wasn’t even supposed to ask that, and he shouldn’t even listen to Jaskier rambling about his life, which he won’t even remember after the sedative effect wears off.

But he can’t suppress his need of knowing more about him.

He just can’t.

“Wanna adopt as many kids as I can, so I can provide ’em a life filled full of love and everything they deserve. All the beautiful things in the universe. All the things I couldn’t have when I was a kid.” Jaskier admits, and his words make Geralt’s heart clench in his chest.

At that moment, Geralt is sure that he is falling so hard for the musician.

Maybe he already did.

“Don’t think that I’m not gonna name our dogs after them though. Or cats.” Jaskier mumbles. He looks like he is just two seconds away from falling into a deep sleep.

Right when he moves to leave, Jaskier grabs his hand as he softly, sweetly whispers, “Geralt, don’t leave me.” And he sounds so vulnerable, so weak that the nurse’s heart skips a beat in his chest.

Geralt would love to say that he doesn’t leave all night, but he has other patients he needs to check on, so he leaves.

But not before staying for five minutes as he holds the musician’s hand, and watches him fall asleep. Nobody needs to know, right?

***

The next day, Jaskier doesn’t remember most of the things he had said last night, but somehow he remembers that Geralt had stayed for a while.

That day, feeling guilty about yesterday, Geralt talks about his life.

“It’s only fair,” he thinks.

He talks about Ciri, and he lets the musician know how crazy his daughter is about him. That makes Jaskier smile at him warmly, but then again, his smile is always like this.

Warmer than the sun on a hot summer day.

Blushing, Jaskier hesitantly says that he would love to meet her. His big, baby blue eyes seem to be searching for something in Geralt’s eyes.

And Geralt understands that he finds whatever he was searching for when Geralt nods and says: “We would love that, too.”

***

“Look! Jaskier finally posted something!” Ciri says one morning while they are having breakfast, well, more like Ciri is having breakfast, and Geralt is just busy with his coffee since he is in a hurry.

“Hmm?”

“Wait, was this an ‘I’m Actually Curious About What You Have To Say’ type of ‘hmm’? Because it definitely didn’t sound like your usual ‘I Don’t Care’ type of ‘hmm’. Nice! That might be the first time you actually seem curious about what I have to say about him.” Ciri smiles, and lets out a sad, little “Oh.” After reading whatever Jaskier had posted.

“He says that he is having some minor health issues…”

Geralt huffs at that.

‘Minor health issues’

If what he had gone through is “minor” to Jaskier, Geralt doesn’t even want to imagine what “major health issues”  mean in his dictionary.

But he is sure that the only reason why the musician says “minor” is because he doesn’t want to worry his fans.

“‘I am in good hands though—I mean it, really really good hands—so no need to worry. Love you all, xoxo’ Hmm… I hope it’s nothing serious.”

The nurse looks at his daughter’s phone screen and the excessive amount of winking face emojis after ‘really really good hands’ part catches his attention.

He tries to hide his smile behind his black coffee mug.

And luckily, he succeeds.

***

A few days later, it’s time for Jaskier to be discharged from the hospital. And Geralt feels a bit sad about it, to be honest. Because he is already used to having the young man around.

To his never-ending flirting and jokes, to his smile, to his everything.

But the good thing is, that means that he will be no longer his patient.

Jaskier gives him his number before he leaves, and tells Geralt to call him whenever he is free.

“I’m totally getting into another accident and make sure they bring me here if you don’t call, Mr. Handsome Nurse,” the musician jokes in a low voice.

“We wouldn’t want that now, would we?” Geralt smiles. “You can be sure that I’ll call, Jaskier. And we can even have some pasta maybe.”

It’s the first time that Geralt calls him by his first name, and the nurse can see how the other man’s smile widens when he does that, eyes sparkling.

“Wow. Now I have no doubt about how much Ciri talks about me,“ scratching the back of his head, Jaskier chuckles shyly, and it’s music to his ears. Ciri is right. He does sound like an angel.

"Till we meet again, Geralt. Till we meet again.”

[illustraice]

lead me out (on the moonlight floor) 

rating:  T word count: 7526 multiple chapters: 1/?

[ read on AO3 <3 ]

Chloe Bourgeois’ Capri Sun has a sheen to it. It probably reflects light on some poor freshman kid trying to navigate the hallways filtered with the fall breeze and the faint scent of student panic. She stays seated between the legs of the unbothered figure behind her and thinks that getting to class in time is, like, overrated and Alya Cesaire’s arms have to be comfortably occupied, thank you very much. If she had any time, Marinette would think it was moderately cute and a true testament to battling against The Wall of Heterosexuality, but because she doesn’t have any time between pushing her way through The Wave of Student Flesh and desperately clinging to her multiple binders, she starts to think it’s a bit of an inconvenience.

The Cesaire-Bourgeois Package Deal block a generous portion of the stair path; if the freshmen had any opposition to Françoise Dupont University’s ‘It’ Couple’s (of 5 months and 16 days, Chloe had announced in a lecture once) location of choice, they didn’t comment. Marinette scans the frantic narrow hallway and appraises her options; she’d very much like to get to Economics on time but there’s probably bad, weirdly homophobic, undertones to telling the Package Deal to please, get off the stairs and get to class. The two are glued to their spot, class time a weak thing to nudge their unwavering dedication to listen to whatever pop-indie playlist Cesaire has curated on her phone as they share the singular string of earpods. Marinette shuts her eyes for a few seconds, wishing Nino were here to pick up her courage off the ground to hand back to her so she can say something to the two about not blocking the stair path and making out in the next 5--or maybe 2?--minutes.

A trio of younger students scampers to the stairs, too careful to not bother the couple like if they were to make contact with even an inch of Cesaire’s varsity jacket, they would suffer a force of an electrical shock or something equally dangerous to the medical bill. Marinette wills herself to roll her eyes, hopes that whatever exasperation she has rolled with it. She’s near the duo enough to share a few words (maybe testimonies from other students about how much they want to get to class on time?), and slowly inhales preparing to speak when a smooth voice calls out behind her.

“Can you two get any more cliche?”

Somehow, through the blaring indie mess of a song--Hozier? A band Marinette doesn’t know?--Alya acknowledges the comment and offers a smile in the direction of the voice.

“Relaxation is key, Agreste.” she hums lazily. Between the confines of Alya’s arms, her girlfriend grunts intelligently.

By the time Marinette realises her conversational sacrifice is better off unrealised and makes her way farther up the stairs hurriedly, Chloe has put her earbud to the side and points a meticulously manicured finger accusingly.

“Find true love before you judge true love.” she preaches.

“What is that? Aristotle?” Adrien quips. “I think true love can find a way to stop blocking the stairs and scaring the freshmen.”

Chloe scrunches her nose. “Find true love on your own first to prove it.”

Adrien sighs and for the short time being, curses his previous determination 5 months ago to force his best friends on a date. Instead of resulting in moderate disaster material he’d hoped would happen to use as some kind of funny leverage they could all laugh at one day, they’d turn out to be ridiculously compatible despite their exteriors and made out after a mere 45 minutes of the date. They’d laugh in the face of his ulterior motives, howling at him when he’d found them in each other's arms sickeningly in love later. He’d yelled profanities that it wasn’t fair that it actually worked (“It was supposed to be a joke! God, come on!”) as they snickered, all three clustered on his bedroom floor drinking his dad’s whiskey from the inviting and playfully restricted liquor cabinet (they’d been careful to pick an unenticing bottle stored all the way back). But truthfully he was happy for them, earnestly and annoyingly so.

Even so, their habits needed to die; like getting caught in embarrassing places making out or purposefully making out in front of teachers with Homophobic Tendencies (Adrien was more than supportive of that one but he’d also run several arguments on why it may risk them not graduating. Alya had just shrugged and said yolo) and now, blocking crucial stairways in their ferocious display of PDA. He quickly glances up above the stairs and thinks about telepathically apologizing to everyone who has had to wade their way through the duo. A figure with pitch black hair almost stumbles up in a hurry. Adrien wonders how he could send along the message that he grants them a pass to yell at his friends as a sincere apology.

“Can you two just get up and go to class.” he finalises. He looks down at Chloe’s cheer uniform and muses to himself that the near neon yellow in it is the colour of Chloe’s life.

Students still scatter around the area but they’re beginning to disappear to their classes. He makes way for a row of students running to the stairs and they thank him, eyes wild communicating some kind of cryptic message he thinks he can decipher as ‘save us’. He takes several steps up and flicks at Alya’s bun, strays of her hair bouncing. She doesn’t protest and instead takes some form of an effort to take his advice but it’s quickly halted by a suave kiss to her lips.

‘5 more minutes.’ Alya’s lips barely mutter against her girlfriend’s. The proposed time frame seems to be unnegotiated.

Adrien jerks his head up to the ceiling and groans.

-

When three chattering students noisily stumble their way through her Economics class, Marinette takes no note of it. She’s a little too caught up in what pretentious shade of red the bodice of the dress she desperately trying--failing?--to design in her Studio Arts class is supposed to be so that it passes off as something Dior would create. A deep, lusting flame colour or perhaps, maroon? Maybe? Frighteningly so? She flicks her head up momentarily to glance at a wave of varsity jackets and a singular cheer uniform. The chatter of the room increases exponentially. Alya Cesaire makes a joke or two to the professor that somehow saves her and her friends’ asses. The professor rolls their eyes but they turn kind and indifferently forgiving like they always are to Cesaire’s charm. A row of girls in front of Marinette swoon a little and it takes a moment for her to realise it’s directed at Adrien Agreste’s smooth greeting, the smile on his face so easy it reminds Marinette of toothpaste commercials. Chloe takes a claim beside Alya’s seat, a Capri Sun in hand and a look of undiluted boredom in another. She crosses her legs, pouts a little at her girlfriend, a form of formally beckoning her over to sit down already.

Seats are taken. Because Marinette has a brain and two whole eyes, it has always registered to her that the three are easy--a pleasure perhaps--to look at. Agreste’s a model even; his status of that is as clear as day as it is as cemented on the school’s Wikipedia and his flashy Instagram bio. But the force of all three was indeed a ridiculously attractive sight and Marinette would take her time to appreciate it all (really, she would!) if the stress of completing her portfolio hadn’t kept her occupied every ticking minute of her time in school.

She sighs and eases her eyes on Adrien Agreste who practically swaggers his way to his seat, playfully bickering with Chloe the whole time without either caring for volume much to the class’ entertainment. His soft, somewhat curled, bundle of hair practically bounces like it just has its own individualistic way with gravity. A hand tucked in his varsity jacket pocket and another loosely on the strap of his bag, he laughs at one thing or another said by Alya and Marinette thinks it’s a nice sound. A casually beautiful entity, she concludes.

Marinette’s eyes wander aimlessly at the board but she feels a pair of eyes on her anyway. Adrien’s eyebrows furrow for a moment, a hint of recognition on his eyes as he takes the steps above like he’s willing a vision to be painted in his head. Before she can look to him, his head turns away and he quips at whatever incoming remark from Chloe he had his way. Huh.

By the time the chatter dies down enough, Marinette has already decided the brief moment had been a mere daydream, a wander of aimless eyes at her in coincidence just like her own. She picks up her pen and writes her notes, stifling a yawn. Maroon, she thinks, is an easier colour.

-

Chloe’s bedroom floor looks a little like what Adrien envisions as an entire Sephora store. He’s not all that sure what that actually looks like but between Chloe yelling out to find fifteen different shades of lipstick and Alya lazily stacking more than forty eyeshadows on each other in some cosmetic version of Jenga, he thinks he’s right. His wooden chopsticks point to the takeaway stir fry in his hand and he’s debating whether to try out that powder thing, see if it does something or other. The view beyond Chloe’s perfectly oversized balcony is easy to look at, sunset views and all, and he thinks he’d like it a lot if he could stay there instead of the proposed agenda of the upcoming night.

Alya is sprawled out in her girlfriend’s bed, amusing herself with a meme or two on her phone. That doesn’t really satisfy Chloe who whines a little when she steps out of her closet, a yellow high neck dress tight on her waist. Adrien scrunches his nose and thinks the other dress--whatever he remembers of it--was probably better.

“Why don’t I look hot?” Chloe mourns. She slumps on a chair nearby, glum and decidedly not hot.

“I liked the other dress better.” Adrien offers, staring at the ceiling. He doesn’t think he likes the stir fry either. God, they should’ve just gotten pizza but Adrien’s stomach had made some last minute ditch to stir fry just as they entered the pizza shop and he should’ve listened to Alya saying his stomach is probably making a mistake but it just seemed so good of an idea at the time.

Alya glances up from her phone and makes some kind of protesting sound. “You always look hot babe!”

“Yes, true.” Chloe agrees momentarily, ‘But I don’t look hot in any dresses tonight.”

“Just don’t wear a dress.” Adrien offers again. They should really be taking his advice, he thinks. He knows he’s not paying that much attention but they should!

“Adrien, get up,” Chloe says.

“No.”

Alya looks at him from the bed, targets his face to throw a pillow. It lands on the desired location perfectly and he thinks it’s probably a warning. “What are you not hungry for?” he hears Alya ask.

He shoves the pillow away, eyes still greeting the ceiling. “The stir fry is not good.”

“You know, where was this energy an hour ego before you dragged us to an extra twenty minute walk to get it?”

“I’d really like my stomach’s intuition not be insulted during these trying times.”

Chloe scoffs, “Yeah, yeah. But really, what’s wrong?”

Her voice had shifted to the softer tone Adrien knows she categorises as the tone only given when Chloe’s actually worried. Adrien almost thinks about lying, then thinks better of it. Chloe and Alya could probably perfectly retrace every single step he's taken in his life. It’s useless and his stir fry has probably gone cold. He sits up this time, the warmth of the carpet off his back. He contemplates first and realises he does not want to ruin the night, not even for himself.

“Don’t worry,” he says finally, quietly. Quiet enough for it to be a clear lie.

Alya and Chloe exchange looks. A brief silence passes, the type Adrien knows is a mutual agreement between all three to wait. It doesn’t have to be said now, the silence says. A beat later, Chloe continues mourning her temporary lack of hotness, whining to herself again as she re-enters the closet. Alya maintains her lazy protests against the statement, grabbing the stir fry away from Adrien for herself (“God, it doesn’t even taste that bad.”). Adrien grins, wills himself to look forward to his own party, thinking it’s better that way.

-

Marinette stares almost menacingly at the computer screen. Photoshop and her design glare back at her like it’s a contest that it’s winning. It’s only a sketch but Marinette starting to think that if she stares at it long enough, the dress itself will appear magically before her, having chosen for itself confidently what colour it’d like its own bodice to be.

Instead, it only leads to her wondering if her eyes are actually threatening to bulge out.

“Why are you having a staring contest with your own computer?”

Marinette doesn’t turn around. Nino’s voice is not enough to keep her from trying this whole make-the-dress-magically-appear concept she’s got going on. He will not distract her from this goal. He places a plate with pepperoni pizza on her desk, a likely and tempting distraction. She takes it anyway.

“Is maroon, like, a good colour?” she asks, taking a bite. Nino lands himself on her bed, his headphones dangling on his neck the way it’s practically glued to him. He chews a bit of his pizza in some kind of contemplation before he answers.

“Depends who’s asking.”

“The bodice of my design is asking.”

“Then no,” he answers.

Marinette does not like this answer. But she’s pretty sure she doesn’t like any of the answers. She’s also sure Nino’s just talking out of his ass, but she appreciates the input.

“Man, have you even went out of your room since school?” he asks. It’s a genuine question, Marinette knows there’s no trace of judgement on his lips. But she’s also feeling a little jaded from the hours she’s spent on the design like it’s her lifeline enough that she musters some kind of look of feigned offense.

“I take that as a no,” he says.

Instead of answering, Marinette dumps her face flat softly against the desk. She realises all too quickly that this action in of itself is an answer.

“Okay.” Nino pulls himself up swiftly, hands clasped together the way it always is when he has a plan, “You look like you’re in the middle of a mid-life crisis at 21 and it’s just way too early for that. Get up, get dressed, put your hair up or whatever. We’re going to a party.”

Marinette grumbles. The idea, like every Nino idea, is perfectly acceptable, logical and has more than enough, the right intentions. It’s the execution, Marinette knows, that falters. Like how in kindergarten, he’d tell his best friend as their mothers shopped in IKEA that it was cool--yes, very cool!--to play hide and seek beyond the safety of the children’s play area, hiding away from the watch of the employees. It was practically genius to 6-year-old Marinette. Running away from boring IKEA-themed adults? Acceptable! Hide-and-Seek, the most thrilling game of century in a big area with lots of spaces to hide? Logical! Marinette and Nino had been bored out of their minds, un-enticed by the disgrace of a ball pit? The right intentions! It had been 15 IKEA employees yelling out the two children’s names for an hour later as they giggled away that had caused the fiasco to turn out to seem like Not Such a Genius Idea. The aftermath of their mothers’ disapproving faces had been another reminder.

‘Nino.” Marinette begins, “There’s a pros and cons list already made for that idea and I hate to tell you this, but there’s not a lot of pros.”

Nino considers this for a moment like he hasn’t already made up his mind. “There’s not a lot of cons either.”

The list is empty, Marinette says in their comfortable silence. Just like my head right now.

“Stop this.” Nino urges, “You need to get out. My best friend needs to come to this stupid rich kid party with me, eat a bunch of rich kid snacks and drink rich kids’ booze and live in the moment instead of looking like she’s about to go MMA on her computer”

Marinette doesn’t hate the idea of a party. She isn’t even opposed to them at all. Even art kids like her need their fair share of big gulps of gross alcohol and badly executed dances. But she also knows the only party of actual prominence tonight is Adrien Agreste’s, the golden boy of the Golden Trio. She thinks she might not like to throw up in his mansion or take up any form of social interaction when the exciting topic of Maroon vs. Not Maroon is the only thing on her mind.

In the time she took to contemplate this, Nina had dug out a pair of her black jeans and a halter top. He throws the clothing at her and she knows he has hit his target when she feels the material on the back of her head.

Marinette sighs the heaviest of sighs and Nino rolls his eyes. “Mari, you’re not dying.”

“Sure am.”

Like some kind of protest, he blasts some random 90s hit over the speakers from his phone. Marinette looks up, eyes already hazy and takes another bite of the pizza. Sixpence None the Richer blares like it’s trying to actually etch itself to Marinette’s ears. Nino joins in the verse but he’s kind of shrieking the way Marinette knows he does when he’s purposely trying to piss off the Choir teachers. Marinette stifles a laugh, then immediately groans.

God, rich booze really better be good.

-

His party is Very Good, Adrien intelligently evaluates this to himself. He’s in the middle of the dancefloor that’s really just his oversized living room, red solo cup to his lips. He’s not exactly sure what he’s drinking but he is sure it’s primarily responsible for the bubble of misplaced happiness to his body. He’s just a little hazy and deliriously warm and what the fuck is he drinking again? He dances between great friends, good friends, friends and not-friends-but-will-be-friends. Many eyes light up to his face in recognition, he happily recalls. The joys of being the host, he sighs in what he hopes is content.

The mansion is packed the way Adrien likes it when it’s a party--his party. It’s to blare out the loneliness inside these walls, the thought trespasses his mind. He frowns at it and systematically tucks it away in the space of gulping down all of his whatever-it-is drink and chatting to whoever is on his right. The wide-eyed girl smiles at him, polite and yet eager. He recognises her as part of Chloe’s cheer squad and she looks quite pretty tucking her hair behind her ears. Yes, very pretty! Is that pink eyeshadow on her? Adrien thinks it might be purple. They talk for a spare few minutes, slowing their movements a little. Adrien’s not entirely following whatever it is they’re supposed to be talking about it, but he knows he’s flashing his Good Smile and she’s flashing her Good Smile. And they look very nice, even! Yes! Wait, he halts, wait what?

“Agreste, you dumbass.” Adrien registers the voice as one Alya Cesaire but he’s not as quick to register the pull from the back of his jacket.

He’s dragged without grace across the other side of the room where the bar is set up, the crowd had parted like the knowing red sea with people laughing at his demise. Adrien’s arms flail in some kind of attempt to pull away from Alya’s force but he quickly becomes aware it makes him look like he’s drowning horizontally on dry land.

“Hang on there Adrien!” he hears Rose squeak but he can tell she’s grinning.

When Alya arrives at her destination, he finds Chloe perched on the barstool, chuckling at him. “What are you doing flirting with one of my girls?”

He feels a little caught in some kind of invisible lie. “Am not!”

Unfortunately, his voice squeaks the way it always does when he’s in a (drunk!) childish fit of defense. His knees wobble and Adrien wonders when jelly became a substitute for his knees? Did he authorise that? Alya and Chloe’s laughs almost thunder throughout the room, probably threatening to break walls.

“You sound like a 3-year-old caught in a lie.” Chloe snorts. Almost as if embracing this proposed age, Adrien pouts and sticks out his tongue. It’s stained red from his whatever-it-is drink. Has he been drinking wine? God, what is he? Above thirty?

“Yeah, yeah. Not all of us wanna make out with our true love every 5 minutes.” he places his cup to the bar, motioning for the bartender to refill a drink. The man raises an eyebrow, asking what he’d like before Adrien says whatever is alright. In fact, he has been drinking whatever the whole night so he might as well continue. “Not all of us have found it either.”

“Don’t be so poetic in your own party.” Alya feigns disgust, “Call Aristotle or whatever. Make him do the labour. Your stuff is terrible.

“My stuff,” Adrien tries not to slur, “is very, very, very good.”

“He sounds very convincing.” Juleka nods as she approaches. She takes a sip of her drink and in an act Adrien can only recall as an angelic move, she places a hand on his shoulder to stop him from the very bad consequences of his Knee Wobbling Fiasco. “Hold on there, buddy. The night has barely started.”

“You’d think Adrien would make it as a good act for the Debate Club?” Rose giggles beside her.

Chloe smirks, ‘You should register him now whilst he thinks his material is very, very, very good.”

The warm round of laughter from the circle erupts from this and Adrien delivers several glares to Chloe that they both know are just empty threats. He likes that everyone is having a good time, likes the obnoxious blare of music over the speakers and the familiar touch of everyone around the room he’s known.

“Adrien!” a voice bellows from the crowd. Adrien’s reflexes are painfully slow thanks to his whatever booze but he turns his head to spot the familiar figure, headphones on his neck. Nino always makes it easy to recognise Nino that way.

“My man!” Adrien drunkenly skips towards Nino, lunges his body weight at him. Nino somehow manages to handle the force of his bear hug and laughs, his body vibrating with it.

“How have you been?”

Adrien does not answer this question. Instead, he cries, “Nino, what the hell! Where have you been, man! It’s been, like, days! Without you, man! Without you!”

The group behind them laugh at Adrien’s speech, but Adrien is having trouble comprehending why. It’s been 2 days without his good friend! 2 whole days! He hopes the misery seeps out of him so they can understand his pain. 2 whole days!

“Okay, I don’t know what you’re drinking but it’s either that good, or you’ve overestimated how much you can handle. Again.” Nino grins, tries to position Adrien to stand. Adrien falls back to his arms like his body is lifeless. Was it? It sorta felt like it was.

“I am very good.” Adrien announces. He’s not sure who at.

“Don’t listen to his dumb ass.” Chloe laughs, “Have a seat with us, Lahiffe.”

She motions at an open seat near the bar. Nino smiles but his eyes flicker back to the crowd. He glances to Adrien, pulls a look like he’s going to say something mildly serious.

Nino slows his speech as if to consider Adrien’s quickly deteriorating brain cells. Adrien’s honestly grateful for it. ‘Hey, I’ve actually got a friend I’ve dragged along I’d like you guys to meet. Hope you don’t mind the plus-one, Adrien.”

No, Adrien doesn’t mind at all! Absolutely not! He wishes he could say something intelligent like ‘Of course I don’t mind! I’m happy for my huge ass hollow mansion to be filled up to suppress a bad ache of my loneliness!’. Or maybe he shouldn’t. So Adrien just shakes his head violently.

Nino smiles as if it completes his resolve. He leans Adrien’s body back to Juleka’s sturdy arms.

“Great. I’ll be back!” he wades his way into the crowd, the heap of bodies like some kind of transcendent disco-themed sea. Adrien takes a sip of his new--and hopefully improved?--whatever-it-is drink, hates it, then takes another sip.

-

Marinette remembers the order. Stay here for a sec, Nino had said, I need to talk to someone. What she’s not as diligent about is following through with it. Like a bad juxtaposition, she thinks, sipping through this party’s Rich Beer in her hand. It’s warm and fuzzy despite the unorthodox taste it leaves, maybe that’s the intended effect of Rich Kid Expensive Beer? But anyway, this bad juxtaposition weighs in on her. She’s hit with a weird pang of guilt over Not Following through with Nino’s orders. It’s not Acceptable (she’s broken an order), nor Logical (why is she wandering around in the gigantic space of this mansion where she can easily get lost amongst its weird sea of too many bathrooms?), nor does it have good intentions (she’s only helplessly so interested in the paintings surrounding the quieter hallways in this half drunken state).

Well, it’s not bad intentions, she debates, but it’s not Great Intentions. Marinette settles to herself that it’s Marinette Intentions, like that’ll help her explain this very reason of wandering around so clearly tomorrow. Nino will probably say something like what the fuck and then he’ll Not Get Mad at her because he knows pretty paintings are pretty paintings and anyway, why the fuck does Adrien Agreste have so many paintings? He doesn’t even paint! Never even been to a Studio Arts class! Never even suffered over Colour Theory or Composition or bad oil paint stains that go on perfectly good shirts that never come off even after, like, years of the laundry! Never even contemplated the deep distinction between maroon and not maroon! Marinette huffs and she thinks it’s one of her angry huffs.

Marinette thinks she’s okay with maybe swimming back into the sea of bodies, finding a pretty thing to flirt with and make out with for no particular reason for the night before she’ll slink back home. She’ll call an Uber and drunkenly recall the events to an indifferent and kind therapist of an Uber driver. She thinks it’s okay, yes it’s okay. She looks sufficient tonight, her lips are very glossy, very kissable, very capable of speaking to her future Uber driver. Her eyelids are heaped with a mauve shade, and Nino’s choice combination of clothing turned out well because he’s spent 19 years enough with her to recall whatever she says is ugly and not ugly.

But Marinette stares a little listlessly at the near blank hallways of the mansion. It nearly amazes her that despite it feeling like the world’s population was at Agreste’ front door, his mansion still seemed to have room. She waits for the wave of resolution to settle to her body, ending at the tips of her toes as to signal her feet to start moving in the desired direction. But it never does. Marinette sips the weird beer and takes this as a sign to stay in the dim of the hallways. Her eyes linger back on the painting in front of her, encased in a golden frame like it was a cliche. The acrylic sea stares back at her like the challenge her computer screen had once presented only a few hours ago.

Okay, Adrien Agreste’s house paintings, two can play that game.

-

Adrien’s footsteps carry the weight of the world. He’s pretty sure that’s not how gravity is supposed to feel like but in this state, he doesn’t really think physics is a concept he can grasp altogether. He had thought mindless dancing would ease his mind, make his body feel light as he tiptoes through the crowd. He sways along with the heat of bodies and he thinks maybe next time he’d like to hire a live weatherman in one of these parties to announce the approximate amount of degrees which he thinks right about now is nearing a million?

He’s dizzy, blissed-out like it hasn’t only been two hours into the party. His mouth feels like it’s on fire and drier than a desert at the same time. He’d chat to anyone who’d even so much as give him half a second of eye contact. He compliments something of anyone’s outfit and they’d say something like great party or Adrien get some damn water and then he’d flash his big megawatt smile reserved for nights like this or in daylight walking in the halls of the university like he’s shooting a never-ending commercial. If Chloe and Alya were concerned, they’d decided to voice their concerns for a later date and let him have his drunken fun.

For some ungodly reason, his mind rewinds to today’s events. Find true love to judge true love. Chloe’s voice strikes thunders in the thick of his cluttered haze. He grimaces, a little fondly. It’s one of those lines Chloe says without any real depth to it but he’s pretty sure the true love part has some weight on her part. Adrien sweats a little (or a lot?), thinks about Kagami for what feels like only a quarter of a second and then suddenly, several million years. He hadn’t let the ground beneath them turn solid, she hadn’t done the same either. So they’d just float in midair, aware they had nothing to land back on just like how he wants to feel weightless in this bulk of a crowd.

He’d kiss her once, in something like one of these parties. She’d return the favour back and it’d seem like such a comfortable tangle of lips at the time. His hand on her hip seemed fair, chivalrous, one of those moments of obvious destiny like how princes in Disney movies had no hesitation once they’d found their princesses. Once their lips parted, it was only then that he could hear the good-natured rumble of cheers surrounding them. Chloe had rolled her eyes, muttered something like I can’t believe you took that long, Adrien and Adrien had agreed on the statement. He’d grin so wide, the muscles on his mouth were a little tired of him. But Kagami’s eyes had been wide and curious and her teeth showed in her loosened smile so Adrien concluded that it had been so very worth it.

But then Kagami had sat down on his couch weeks later, shifting like she was not so sure of the space. As if the air inside was slightly suffocating despite the huge expanse of his second living room. Before her lips had open to speak, her eyes had already performed flutters of apology. Adrien thinks its almost pity but he’d shoved that feeling deep into the back of his mind before it could pose itself as a hazard to his psyche. She says what Adrien recalls as a blur of words. Sentences Adrien had heard loud and clear because Kagami’s voice was fit for presidential speeches or whatever, but were awfully disjointed like an awkward farrago. She hadn’t been sure, hadn’t thought it out, didn’t think it could work out in the midst of their schedules and oh Adrien, it’s not your fault but mine.

Adrien hadn’t processed anything, instead, he’d just theorised that the walls inside had somehow shrunk to the size of his body, squeezing the air out of his lungs. But he’d say things like it’s okay (it wasn’t), he’d thought the same (he hadn’t) and that he hopes they’d remain good friends. They did, in fact, remain good friends. Threateningly so. Then before he could blink twice, she’d jetted off to some lucrative fencing championship for the next 6 months like her life had been strictly scheduled to break his heart for one minute and be whisked away the next. The news of the breakup had circled ruthlessly throughout the entire student body within a matter of hours and Chloe had taken it upon herself to act as his publicist, telling everyone to leave him alone and yes, he’s going through a breakup-themed Spotify playlist, yes, he’d really like his privacy respected at the moment and no Nathaniel, he can’t share his Spotify playlist publicly go make your own

Alya, Chloe and him had raided the liquor cabinet that night like they would die the next day. Alya had ordered an obscene amount of pizza and Chinese takeaway. He wasn’t sure what the end goal was but between giant gulps of noodles, ice cream and diet coke (kind of disgusting), he concluded his friends had hoped he could also gulp away the sadness along with it. Well, he succeeded nonetheless. The next day he’d skipped along a path after classes, looked up to fervour of the orange-tinted sky and hadn’t thought back to Kagami’s eyes like he had been doing for weeks.

Kagami had been stored in the attic of Adrien’s mind, dusted and intentionally forgotten for some nice 4 months. But now she’s being unceremoniously summoned from the attic, in the midst of his dance floor and onto the pits of his mind’s living room. He holds a breath, a little more than worried that if he thinks about her any longer, she might also physically manifest in his actual living room which he honestly doesn’t think is a very good idea at the moment because he might involuntarily throw up on her.

Adrien thinks he can hear Alya’s voice faintly calling his name which is a miracle amongst the thunder of Ariana Grande over the speakers and fifty billion voices all at once. Without much thought to it, his lips linger back to his drink. The liquid burns down his throat like its matching the heat of the room. Ah yes, a billion degrees and perhaps more. He’d like to not think about Kagami at the moment, or any moments really. But once she’s out Adrien’s psychological attic, he finds it hard to stuff her back somewhere else. So he ignores Alya’s siren calls, twists his body the opposite direction and allows his feet to lead him to the better comforts of his bedroom. He stumbles on his way and knows he looks a bit like an idiot but he thinks his destination will make it worth it. Yes, well, it has to.

-

This room was too big. Much, much too big. Marinette doesn’t like being all too judgemental of anything. She likes to think that’s a result of her and Nino’s friendship and how Nino's face doesn’t really alter to the news of Marinette not sleeping for 48 hours doing designs. Instead, he’ll do something like quietly pull a blanket to her soulless body sprawled on her couch and confiscate the coffee away for three days. She likes to return the favour of understanding, not just to Nino but everyone else. But this room, she thinks, is far beyond the reach of her understanding. Marinette stares at the glass chandelier perched along with the high ceiling and doesn’t think she’d like to calculate if it alone could pay her entire school tuition.

She’d wandered aimlessly throughout the endless hallways, the voices of the crowd echoing behind her now mere whispers in the face of her indifference. She blames the alcohol but then again, she always does and really that wasn’t fair to the paintings which were the real cause of her spiralling away. If Marinette were sober, she thinks she might not enter strangers’ bedroom and judge them for their ridiculous size. But she wasn’t and now she freely saunters around like this room and her are more than familiar with each other. The king-sized bed, she notes, looks like something straight from a home decor magazine. Office space is set up opposite to the bed and it must undeniably have been occupying someone’s stress because papers cover the whole of the area without arrangement. Marinette can hear the faint boom of Top 40 music from outside and she thinks the sound resonates with the thunder of ocean tides crashing and falling much like the rise and fall of her own breath when she spots the easel perched near the bedroom balcony. Curious, Marinette strides like her body is actually co-operating with her. Placing her bottle on a table nearby, she inspects like she’s meant to be doing it.

The canvas is blank but the supplies were neatly arranged along the table. The space feels frozen in time, like someone had paused just as they were to begin and never quite gotten to resume. Clumsily left on the paint tray are different shades of oil paints, untouched and lonely. Cleaned brushes are nearby like they’re new and upon closer inspection, Marinette realises they are. Marinette inhales, breaths in the familiar scent of turpentine she’d recognised from years of sitting in a Studio Arts classroom next to Nathaniel. She’s no painter, not like she was before, but she’s more than proficient in traditional painting because of the required classes. Marinette sits on the stool and feels invited in it despite the clear lack of welcome of the entire room.

And because of the sudden invitation, in some swift movement she doesn’t at all recall, she picks up a brush, ruthlessly dabs it into the bright flush of a red and smears it across it the innocent canvas without regal.

“Fuck.” she says out loud as soon as the paint meets the canvas. Oh shit.

Oh shit, shit, shit. The mournful scarlet streak is right in front of her, bright as day in evidence and though its a colour, Marinette can’t help but think it’s screaming. The panic bubbles like champagne in her stomach but suddenly, just as champagne does, it settles into a fuzzy ease. Marinette laughs loud to herself. Fuck it.

Marinette ditches her reflex to set the brush down and instead dabs a little of the red back into the canvas, marks the colour again in another direction like it has a purpose. The more the hair of the brush streaks the colour along, the more the colour sings to Marinette’s face instead of its shrill screech. Over time, the colours bloom until Marinette hears the canvas perform a complete melody enough that it rivals the roar of waves outside.

- 

The thud is enough to knock Marinette out of her paint splatter of a state, she turns her head to the direction of the door and hears a muffle or two of a deep voice. The panic settles back into her body and unfortunately, she realises, it’s panic alone and there’s no champagne mixed in. Several thuds ensue by the time Marinette has scrambled to her feet; brush, paint and melody are long forgotten as she drops it to the table.

An escape route, yes, she needs an escape route. Yes, now. What about her drink? Oh God, her booze. Marinette furrows an eyebrow, seizes her bottle from the table and mindlessly gulps down the rest of the bottle’s content. Yes! Beer! Alcohol! Wait? No! She doesn’t have time for this shit! Marinette looks again to the enormous chandelier, sincerely wishing the billion carat diamond form of it all would just fall on her head, knocking her out. Instead, she scans the ground, grimaces as she ducks down low undignified and crawls to the bottom of the Instyle-looking king-sized bed. She’s thinking if the chandelier does actually plan on killing her, the bed might just be her salvation.

The door opens wide and the volume from outside adjusts to something loud and obnoxious. Marinette spots the Nike shoes thudding its way across the room and simultaneously calculates the price of the medical bill she’ll have to face if her heart doesn’t stop drumming violently against her chest. The figure paces around the room like it’s just as curious as she once was. A moment passes before the sound of the creak from the bottom of the bed rings in Marinette’s ears as the person lands on top. Her throat threatens to squeak out a sound in surprise before she suppresses it.

Marinette thinks if she wasn’t the one in her position, she might find all of this awfully funny. But because she’s the one in her position, Marinette eyes the opened door. She wonders if maybe, just maybe, she could just crawl, go into some kind of lizard mode that her 3-year-old self had prepared her for anyway. The fact that she’s drunk is making the plan sound a lot like a Nino Plan and the fact that it sounds like a Nino Plan has Marinette itching to execute it as not badly as possible. She waits for a prolonged five minutes before she dares to move a muscle. Four minutes later, she hears the faint sound of snoring and is fucking grateful for it.

She executes the plan, wills herself to crawl her way through the spotless carpet in silence. Arms extending out as she slithers her way, the noise outside gets louder with every inch closer to the door. By the time she reaches it, her body moves at the pace of a ghost as she heaves herself up in excruciating slow motion. Marinette doesn’t take a chance, doesn’t turn her head in the case she might make some unintended noise. Instead, she takes a slow breath in, treads lightly back outside and hears the echo of the waves from the narrow hallways.

- 

Nino reprimands her in the Uber. He also kind of does it in the dancefloor when he’d found her and nearly knocked several bottles over as he trudged his way over her drunken ass screaming the lyrics to Selena Gomez. He’d said something like what the fuck Marinette and she’d wailed out the second verse of Selena Gomez’ song in response. It’s a bad Selena Gomez themed haze from then on and Marinette does not remember anything beyond the audible thump of her own body in the back of the Uber whilst she makes out Nino apologising profusely to the driver. She bawls a little at this.

“No!” she hiccups, once or twice, “Wheeeere are we goiiiing?”

Nino turns his head from the passenger seat and Marinette thinks he’s going to say something disapproving again but he just chuckles. “We’re going home.”

Marinette thinks she does not like to be laughed at. “Nooooooo.”

God! She hadn’t even been kissed! Hadn’t even made out with anyone! Marinette places a light finger to her lips and mourns the lack of a kiss to her lips. That was so illegal! “I am very kissable!”

Nino just laughs again, “Find anyone to be very kissable with?”

Marinette narrows her eyebrows. Huh. Did she? She doesn’t recall a single kissable lip on her. A goddamned shame. God, what had she been doing? She was very kissable, damnit! What the hell was she doing not being kissed?

Marinette’s mind wanders to important things like puff pastries and croissants. She was over this night, she hadn’t been kissed and if she had been, it must've have been so bland her mind just threw the damn memory away. So Marinette hums a tune in blissful peace, wonders what she might do tomorrow about her maroon vs. re-

“Stop the car, I’m going to throw up.” Marinette chokes out. From the rearview mirror, the Uber driver just sort of sighs like he might throw up too.

The flash of red lingers its way back into Marinette’s mind at the speed of lightning or thunder or motorcycles or something dangerous and clearly over the speed limit. A Lamborghini probably. The blank canvas and how not very blank it was in its state in Adrien Agreste’s house. In the midst of her alcohol scented mist, the image of the painting taunts her. The hour of painting had seemed so far away like it was months ago and oh God, Marinette was going to go to prison for trespassing or something. She’ll go to prison and wear a bad shade of orange like it’s some kind of sick punishment for the array of colours she’d slashed mercilessly across the canvas.

“Oh my god.” she whispers to herself. “Shit.”

The car reluctantly stops near the side of the road. Marinette yanks open the car door, ducks her head down low and does, indeed, throw up.

[ubemango]

commission 4: slow burn/best friends/college au w/  jin

(+or: we’re best friends and you’re literally So Great and i suck at knowing what i want but anyway i’m starting to think i like you ??????? au)

note 1: For my very very sweet and understanding friend @yeuj​ who helped me out when I needed it most .... I hope you enjoy 🥺🥺💕!!!!!! And thank you to Micah + Clove for helping me with my questions—thank you for your thoughtfulness, insight, and love!!!!! 🌷🌷🌷

note 2: I tried to make ramen-making as unboring as possible but it really is just....water and spice. If you’re confused about eating ramen at convenience stores please search that up on Youtube, I’ve exhausted my link resource skills (except for when I want you to listen to songs.) Also, the songs I mention are titanic/the end by cehryl and Subside by Eloise. I actually listened to Sweet Night on repeat while writing this so if u wanna listen to that... ;_;

note 3: everything about this story is in medias res. I realized I had no proper beginning or conclusion and I didn’t wanna change the flow of the story by concretely adding one or the other... so if the story feels incomplete/fragmented then please understand that this was a conscious and intentional decision done on my part :,) It’s slow burn!!!! I Love you ha ha!!

(i)

The library is open twenty four hours. The convenience store in the student centre is not.

“Please use your car,” you assert.

Seokjin huffs. “Then pay for my gas.”

It’s an empty threat. He’s got no business driving hard bargains when he has capital in the form of a rich CEO dad. He ignores your glaring, calmly closing his laptop, shoving it into his bag. Closing up shop after a derivative crisis you’d called him up for because he lives on campus, plus he never sleeps early. You appreciate that he gives into you so easily.

“Fine.”

So you go, searching for a convenience store that has those instant noodles you suddenly came up with a craving for this late at night. Seokjin’s used to it by now. You get things done when you want to, even if it means making a home of the pillowy chairs in the library you’d claimed for studying purposes.

The mathematical theory of chaos. You don’t want to think about it, and you click your seatbelt with a yell, throw your bag in the backseat with as much strength your anger allows for. “I hate school!”

“Please don’t scream in the car.”

“I hate it!”

Seokjin slots the key in. “Can you look up where the convenience store is?”

He tosses you his phone to unlock. You jab at the screen with more grumbling and colourful cursing, pulling up whatever Google Maps says is the nearest store open.

“Plug in the AUX cord,” Seokjin urges next. He merges into traffic, which is really only one car and the late night bus. A quiet night for your suffering.

“Can I play my—“

“Nope.” You sneer. Tapping open his playlists, you pass under orange lamp post after orange lamp post and scroll in silence before Seokjin groans. “I made a new playlist, pick that one.”

“What’s it called?”

You can see that he’s stiffened up. You don’t comment. “The one with the three heart emojis.”

Simple enough. You don’t care to sift through the songs, and the first one plays with one more indulgent tap of the screen.

Why don’t you tell her? I think you should. You know how you’re feeling, you can’t fight the truth…

Google interrupts the soft voice with the indication of the next right. Seokjin eases on the gas pedal. You watch him nod his head to the softness of the stereo. “I can’t pay for your gas.”

“I know you can’t.”

“I can pay for your ramen,” you suggest. Seokjin makes a quiet noise, like he’s amused by your generosity, or maybe he just thinks you’re dumb. You think it’s the latter.

“I don’t want you to pay for my ramen.”

“Then what do you want?”

The lamp post light striking Seokjin’s face gives way to the harsh red of the stoplight. In the stillness, he sends you a hard look. It makes you feel weirdly vulnerable, like he’s stripped you bare.

To make things worse, Seokjin says:

“Nothing you don’t want to give me.”

He doesn’t heed your confusion because he presses on the gas, looks straight ahead. You do too, and you try not to contemplate the cool brevity of his attention you suddenly want back. You push your uncertainty aside.

(He has a handsome face, you think.)

Seokjin interrupts, “So why’d you wait till now to study?”

“You know me.” Procrastination. The complete and utter mistake of underestimating the allotted time needed to get a successful grasp of concepts for your midterm. In not so convoluted terms, this class sucks ass.

“Yeah but that was—a lot of notes.”

It was. You probably pushed five weeks of material in the span of three hours. You can feel the very tips of your nervous system frying up as you pass through gas station-lit intersections. But there’s a real answer to his question, and you have the intense need to curl in on yourself in this leather seat.

“Well I would have started yesterday, but I was busy,” you counter.

“With what?”

“So you know Hyukjae from Psych?”

Seokjin pauses to listen to Google’s instructions, and immediately makes a left onto another main intersection. “Sure.”

“We went out yesterday,” you admit.

He hums a tight sound, tapping on the wheel. “Hm. How’d it go?”

It wasn’t bad. You shared butter tarts and laughed at his anecdotes and Hyukjae-from-Psych paid for your Uber home. He gave you a very weak hug before you slipped into the car. It was in that seat you’d decided you wouldn’t be sending him an I had fun! text that night.

“It was okay. Like, nice to me and stuff. But nothing…”

“…Worth revisiting.”

“Sure,” you mimic, and you wonder why he’s right.

“The guy’s okay,” he says. Almost like it’s with relief. “It’s—not to sound rude, but. Uh. I think it’s, uh—good. That you weren’t… interested.”

You think he’s gripping the steering wheel a little too tight. “Why?”

“Can’t trust guys with bad handshakes.” Seokjin chances a glance at you, and laughs at the confused scrunch of your eyebrows. “I met him during that networking conference in third year. Limp-wristed me. Like a chump.”

“Ew.” You can’t say he’s wrong. That hug Hyukjae gave you really was weak. The dude has noodles for arms. “But yeah, I guess you’re right. Wasn’t really my type.”

“Hm,” is all Seokjin comes up with. You watch him pass right through the turn Google tells him to take. “Oh shit. Sorry. I’m just. Thinking. About… limp… men.”

You snort. “What?”

“Like a man. A limp man. Hyukjae. Not me,” he clarifies fast—proudly— “just. Anyway! Back to you saying what your type was.”

“I wasn’t,” you accuse.

“Yeah well now I’m asking because I don’t wanna think about limp men. Your type, please.”

He sounds weirdly inquisitive. Demanding, almost. You chalk it up to the near-delirium of being awake past 1AM.

“I—don’t know,” you start. Somehow you feel like you’re messing something up. “He was kind, I like… kind. And soft. Sweet. You know Kim Taehyung? From Neuro? Like, almost big shoulders but not really. I like big shoulders. Yeah. Guys like Kim Taehyung-ish.”

Seokjin just hums again. There’s another song playing, and you don’t know how many you’ve rotated through in this playlist. You didn’t think it’d take this long to get to the store.

Google says it’s just two minutes away now. Seokjin says, “Cool,” and then sings along to the stereo.

You got me losing sleep over you… I usually sit still but now I can’t help but move… When I see you, I don’t know what to do…

(ii)

“Spicy or not spicy?”

“Whatever keeps my stomach lining intact,” Seokjin says.

You don’t say anything more and grab two of whatever ramen packaging isn’t scarily red. The convenience store is void of any customers, and the cashier rings you up with a very sour face for interrupting the show he’s got playing on his phone. His face shrivels up even more because all you can pay with is coins. Seokjin laughs behind you when you apologize for clattering the dimes too harshly on the counter.

“Enjoy,” the cashier announces, and he doesn’t mean it one bit.

The hot water machine at the back is a very intimidating thing next to the tiny display of cookies.  Too many buttons and knobs you don’t understand, so Seokjin takes on the chivalric role and prepares everything for you. He rips the plastic open with gentle hands. Dumps the powder with too much conviction.

You both watch the water stream hot into the noodles. “Do you like macadamia nuts in your cookies?”

“I guess,” you say.

“Wanna split a cookie?” He hands you chopsticks to stir the ramen with, gestures at the cookie display with a jut of his chin.

“Are you paying?”

“Can you imagine if I made you pay after I asked to split,” Seokjin spits at you. “Yes I’m paying.”

“Then I want chocolate chip.”

He freezes, then jabs smartly at his noodles for a tense ten seconds.

“You make me mad,” he finally answers. “Should we eat in the car?”

“The bowl is too hot to hold.”

The counter at the window it is. You’re sad that you didn’t buy pickled radish, but your coin purse has weeped all its coinage out. Seokjin leaves you as Noodle Guard, going off to pay for that bonus cookie with a crumpled five. In the next second you contemplate the evaporation of ramen soup, the cookie is duly dumped right next to you, and Seokjin takes a huge bite of what still appears to be extremely hot noodles.

He promptly chokes, and makes sputtering noises.

“Holy shit,” Seokjin cries.

You take a much, much slower bite. “You’ll be fine.”

“I thought I could be cool for you,” he cries some more.

“You don’t need to be cool for me. Who eats ramen in a cool way?”

Seokjin nods his approval, that tear of theatrics sliding down his cheekbone. He eats carefully. A noisy car roils on outside, and passes quickly outside your periphery.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” you remember to say.

“I love standing at counters and eating things hot,” Seokjin retorts. He dodges the fist you aim at his abdomen with swift ease. “It’s no problem.”

“I—“ You don’t really know why but you need to talk. “You know—you’re really, um, kind.”

Foolery. Absolute foolery that sentence was, and the cashier probably heard that foolery, and Seokjin definitely heard that absolute foolery, and he’s laughing. Like really laughing, caught with the noodles dangling from in-between his teeth. That’s all you had to say? The guy drove you out to get cup noodles out of his own volition. That’s kindness maxed out, and he deserves better than you fumbling between your teeth. Your nerves have fried up so bad, you guess.

Seokjin’s giggles dwindle down. “Thanks,” he says, smiling small.

You blame the heat of your cheeks from the heat of your soup.

Neither of you are desperate to get to that last quarter of noodles to broth ratio. The knots of your shoulders loosen with the sound of your slurping combined, and silently you are reminded of Seokjin’s warmth, standing so close to you.

The easiest path to a nice ending involves a happy belly and Seokjin driving you home with nothing more than a goodbye and a thank-you as you slam the car door shut. This is not unknown to you, because you and Hyukjae-from-Psych took that easy path yesterday.

You just don’t do this often, contemplating all the routes of romance. When is it appropriate to laugh at a joke, to wipe your mouth on the napkin? To smile and peel at your heart and grant that person access to all your inner workings? You belatedly notice that Seokjin did not bring napkins.

(The moment in the car—nothing you don’t want to give me—you want to laugh at his jokes, and smile, peel and peel and peel at your heart, but slowly. Slowly, you put your chopsticks down.)

How funny it is to come to very sound conclusions within a split second, because all you know is that it feels good, being with him like this.

Seokjin, in your quiet realization, takes it upon himself to decide the cookie-eating rights.

“Want the first bite?” He asks, propping the chopsticks horizontally on his bowl.

You nod. Desperately you try not to look at him because you might make more realizations, and you don’t think you’re ready for any more unleashed and unknown emotions. “Please.”

He gives it to you. The right side decidedly has more chocolate chips, and  it’s a very nice explosion on your tongue. So nice you groan into it. “Oh that’s really good.”

He snatches the cookie away before you can take another bite. “I get bigger bites because I paid for it.”

“That—? Uh, that’s not how sharing works.”

“Yes it does,” Seokjin argues. But he just takes as normal a bite as ever. You can’t say you don’t focus on his mouth for too long, though—

—And you immediately seize up at the thought. Horrified, you shriek: “Actually just—have the rest of it!”

He looks alarmed. “O…kay?”

“You’ve got a nice mouth,” you blurt out next.

An absolutely awful feeling settles heavy in your stomach. Because almost immediately you realize that this is a kind and soft boy with nice anecdotes that have yet to be uncovered this night (he likes telling you stories) and he’s got wider shoulders than Kim Taehyung and you’re not sharing butter tarts but you’re sharing a cookie with him.

Another realization: does Seokjin have limp arms?

He puts the cookie down. (His arm looks very strong, doing that.) “I—thanks?”

“I think I’m losing my mind,” you note.

He watches you slump over the counter. Purposefully burying your face in your elbows to muffle your betraying mouth. “It’s late,” is all he says.

“Did that make you uncomfortable?”

“Not at all.” You don’t think you’re breathing. Your lungs have evaporated, like those steamy ramen noodles you just ate. Seokjin probably notices you’ve stopped moving, so he says, “Really.”

“Okay.”

“Did it—did it make you uncomfortable?”

“Not at all,” you say.

“Cool. Do you wanna go—“

You stand up straight, grab all your garbage before he finishes. You don’t look at him. “Yep, yep, please.”

(iii)

He puts the key in the ignition, and doesn’t budge.

“Somehow I feel like you wanna say something else,” Seokjin says.

You curl your hands into fists. “It’s late.”

“I’m aware.”

“I’m—I’m sorry.” You are acutely aware of how garbled you must sound. It’s starting to get on your nerves, how flimsy you’re being. “I’m not… thinking.”

“For what it’s worth, I think you’re being pretty articulate for someone with an empty brain.”

“Are you making fun of me?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” Seokjin sighs.

The seat squeaks where you tense up. “I don’t want to think about your mouth.”

“Do you wanna know what I think?” You nod. Jesus. You’ll just let him do the talking from now on because your tongue can’t be trusted this early in delirium, late in the hour. “I—I…”

Seokjin struggles some more, then deflates. He starts laughing.

“I… don’t drive just anyone out to convenience stores at two in the morning for ramen. You have to know that.” He clears his throat. His eyes are shiny with the harsh glare of neon signs. “I guess I just—wanna know… what you’re thinking.”

“I’m thinking…” Your lips part. Searching for words feels like a physical thing—your stomach is swimming with what feels like a billion thoughts but nothing comes up for air. “I’m thinking I—don’t want to say the wrong thing.”

Seokjin turns to look at you. “I won’t make fun,” he whispers.

“I think. I think, you look—um—really… Good. Um. R-Really… good, right now.”

“Thanks.” He looks up like he wants to say something but his eyes harden where he gazes, locking in on the dust motes of the windshield. Your lungs swell small in the quietude. “I think you really look good, too.”

If baser compliments already have you burning then you don’t know what you’d do if he tried anything more romantically complex. Some people are meant for loud love stories and grand gestures and you—all you can do is think too much and you want to say more but Seokjin understands. He understands your silence, your ineptitude.

In a fit of controlled passion, you reach over the console, grasping at his knuckles till he flips his palm right into yours.

“Feels… ”

You wait for something to come to mind. A phrase, a proper thought to give utterance to, all the failures and successes of the night. Faithfully, nothing comes.

It just feels.

And Seokjin seems to agree. He holds tight between the grooves of your fingers.

“You’re very pretty and it hurts,” he says, and he doesn’t try to meet your gaze, and one feeling comes resolute: it feels right.

[aion-rsa]

15 Worst NES Games of All-Time

https://ift.tt/3y1xEdG

The worst NES games of all time are a truly special breed of bad video games. Say what you will about the downsides of the modern video game industry (and there is certainly a lot to say), but there is, in most cases, a baseline standard of quality ensured by better, cheaper technology, experience, and more controlled distribution channels. You may get the occasional indie game that is basically a scam, but when it comes to major releases…well, even Cyberpunk 2077 was pretty good in a lot of ways.

That wasn’t the case during the NES era. At a time when console gaming was basically the digital wild west, it was incredibly difficult to tell good games from bad ones, and developers often exploited that fact to get us to buy titles that refuse to leave the deepest, darkest parts of our nostalgia all these years later.

That’s the thing about these games. Are they among the worst NES titles ever? Absolutely, but years later, there’s something about remembering the pain of playing them and sharing those memories with others that is strangely enjoyable. 

15. Tag Team Wrestling

Even with all of the other bad wrestling games for the NES (and there were many), Tag Team Wrestling manages to stand apart largely by virtue of being fundamentally unplayable in nearly every way you can imagine.

In a dream world where you manage to overcome this game’s all-time bad animations and unresponsive controls, you still have to deal with the fact that there are times when the opponent A.I. difficulty is raised to such a degree that it becomes quite literally impossible to win. If it weren’t for the fact that this game eventually inspired Homestar Runner’s Strong Bad character, it would be entirely worthless.

14. Friday the 13th

There are some who will credit Friday the 13th for being unique and ambitious. We shall not speak their name in this house of truth where we recognize that the Friday the 13th franchise was never scarier than the moment you tried to play this game as a child.

This game’s bewildering map and unforgivable controls were practically designed to eliminate the possibility of fun. It’s easy to love Jason’s weirdly stylish purple jumpsuit in this 8-bit nightmare, but much like Patrick Bateman, no amount of style can hide the monster beneath.

13. Super Pitfall

There’s no shortage of NES games that are difficult to the point of being fundamentally unenjoyable, but Super Pitfall may just be the king of that particular trash heap.

Super Pitfall‘s developers seemed to believe that the reason people love video games is that they offer the chance to listen to repetitive music while dying all the time to obstacles you have little to no chance to avoid. Just in case that level of abuse wasn’t enough to make you love their project, the developers decided to just go ahead and fill their game with essentially invisible items that no sane person would ever find organically despite the fact that they’re required to progress. To it’s credit, this game does recreate the sensation of being trapped in a dank underground cave.

12. Operation Secret Storm

While it almost feels too easy to pick on developer Color Dreams (the studio responsible for many terrible unlicensed NES games, many of which were based on the Bible), Operation Secret Storm is really on another level in terms of all-time bad games.

Even if we can put aside the often blatant racism and bizarre Gulf War storyline, we’re left with a game where control commands are more of a polite suggestion and hit detection is a bug, not a feature. From top-to-bottom, this may be the “best” example of just how bad those old-school unlicensed NES games could be.

11. Where’s Waldo?

You know, it’s pretty amazing that Where’s Waldo? the video game can’t offer an experience comparable to the Where’s Waldo? books considering that the books weren’t exactly the great American novels.

Beating this game will either take you five minutes or 50 years. It really all depends on your ability to determine which of the blurred on-screen figures the game is trying to pretend is supposed to be Waldo. It’s truly impressive that this game manages to botch a concept this simple, but that’s the magic of the NES era. 

10. Back to the Future Part II and III

The first Back to the Future game for NES was bad, but at least it followed basic video game logic in terms of its level structure. Back to the Future Part II and III, meanwhile, somehow beats Primer for the title of “most confusing use of time travel in entertainment history.”

To be honest, I still don’t know what this game expects from me. It’s supposed to offer a time travel adventure that spans the scope of the last two Back to the Future films, but I dare you to play this for more than 20 minutes without feeling tears in your eyes and the words “What do you want me to do?!?!” escape your lungs. If it’s not the most unintuitive bit of 8-bit game design, it’s certainly one of the most unenjoyable.

9. The Adventures Of Gilligan’s Island

There are two things worth remembering about Gilligan’s Island: the theme song and how annoying Gilligan was. To its credit, this game nails both of those elements.

This game is basically the result of escort quests and bad comedy games forming an unholy union. Imagine being dropped into a hedge maze and being forced to endure the constant jeers of the dumbest man you’ve ever met while trying to figure out where to go. Also, your legs are tied together. That’s basically the Adventures of Gilligan’s Island experience. 

8. Bad Street Brawler

It’s tempting to overlook the golden age of beat ‘em ups for their seeming simplicity, but as Bad Street Brawler shows, it’s very much possible for those kinds of games to go incredibly wrong.

Bad Street Brawler was designed to be used with the NES Power Glove, which should probably tell you everything that you really need to know about what it’s like to try to “play” this game. Manage to master its nearly unplayable controls, and you’re left with a beat ’em up with bewildering visuals and fundamentally unsatisfying gameplay that leave you wondering how the industry lasted this long.

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7. Mario is Missing

Look, there are a lot of bad video games on the NES, but there’s something especially insulting about a terrible Mario game on NES that passes itself off as an educational experience.

This game feels like it was made by a dentist who wanted to give young patients a way to pass the time in the waiting room while also making them less afraid of the impending pain. Nothing in this game makes sense, and the fact it fooled young gamers into thinking it was an actual Mario game makes it that much more infuriating.

6. Ghostbusters

You know, it really shouldn’t have been that difficult to make a respectable Ghostbusters game. Honestly, the only way to go wrong is to pass up the more obvious genre opportunities and try to do something weird and stupid that nobody ever asked for.

As you probably guessed, that’s exactly what we have here. Ghostbusters has the audacity to try to be this strange combination of various gameplay concepts when the fundamentals of controls, visuals, and logical progression so clearly elude it. It’s genuinely hard to believe someone had the chance to make a Ghostbusters video game and came up with this.

5. Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

There are some who say that you really need to learn to play this game before you can judge it. The fundamental flaw of that premise is that it assumes that there’s a game here that’s worth playing in the first place.

I genuinely can’t imagine what Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde’s developers were going for when they concocted this unintuitive blend of confusing mechanics, overwhelming (yet unimpressive) enemies, and controls that only seem to work seconds before you convince yourself to give up on the game entirely. You can read every guide about this game that’s ever been written to try to understand how its needlessly complicated mechanics work, and they still wouldn’t answer the one question everyone has about this title, “Why are you like this?”

4. Action 52

It almost feels bad to pick on Action 52 considering that it is an unlicensed collection of 52 small games that were clearly made by underfunded and inexperienced programmers working on a project that legally probably shouldn’t have been “released.” Then again, that’s perhaps all the more reason to make fun of it.

Against all odds, not one of Action 52’s 52 games manages to be even remotely playable. These games would have been embarrassing even if they were released for the Atari 2600, but in the age of the NES, they offered young gamers the chance to quickly realize that the world is full of scammers and they will try anything to part you with your money.

3. Deadly Towers

Every NES gamer has that one game they just couldn’t beat and never seemed to understand no matter how hard they tried. Well, Deadly Towers is all of those games of your respective childhoods rolled into one.

There is not a single aspect of this game that makes any kind of sense that I’m familiar with. Imagine you’re trapped in the maze from the movie Labyrinth, but instead of getting to meet sexy David Bowie at the end, you have to listen to Eric Clapton tell you what’s wrong with your generation. That’s about what’s it like to play Deadly Towers. Even if you bother to learn the game’s structure, you quickly find you don’t want anything to do with the “rewards” that follow. 

2. Dragon’s Lair

How do you take a game like Dragon’s Lair (an innovative arcade experience that combined FMV visuals with QTE gameplay) and port it to the humble NES? Well, if this port is any indication, you…don’t.

I don’t know if there’s ever been another game that inflicts so much pain on its first screen. I’m willing to bet that 90% of Dragon’s Lair players never figured out how to cross that first bridge and actually enter the castle. That’s probably because the solution to that “puzzle”makes no sense and is fundamentally unenjoyable to execute. Those 90% will be happy to know that the game only gets worse from there. 

1. The Uncanny X-Men

Imagine how easy it would have been to make a decent X-Men game for NES. Just take Batman, Mega Man, Castlevania, or any number of the other great NES games, throw some X-Men designs on the whole thing, and you have a game most of us would probably fondly remember to this day.

Infamous NES developer LJN decided to go a different route, though. They decided to make a top-down action game where hit detection is basically non-existent, the music constantly assaults your ears, half of the characters are essentially useless, the graphics are so bad that you quite literally can’t tell where you are or what you’re supposed to be doing, and the AI is useless to the point that I”m pretty sure the in-game characters have become aware of the game they’re forced to exist in and are doing everything in their power to get out.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

There’s no shortage of bad NES games (clearly), but when it comes to wasted potential, this is truly the worst of the worst. 

The post 15 Worst NES Games of All-Time appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[batmanisagatewaydrug]

the top 5 dumbest lyrics in the Beetlejuice musical

because it’s finally October and also because @dykerory just took the GRE and presumably endured suffering beyond my wildest imagination, so this is sort of a gift to her

*disclaimer 1 pls don’t take this seriously. I love this stupid musical so much and I’m allowed to point out some of the lyrics are dumb as hell. I don’t care if you want to fight about this, I don’t.

**disclaimer 2 the fact that certain songs aren’t on here doesn’t mean they’re good and flawless it means I never listen to them! everything from “Barbara 2.0″ to “Home” is boring I’m sorry I’m sorry pls see disclaimer 1 and remember that I don’t care enough to fight about this.

***disclaimer 3 all the songs on here are on the list because I listen to them CONSTANTLY and have to think about the bad lines too much my relationship with this musical is... como se dice... complicada.

tldr tiktok theater kids don’t try to start any shit 

having gotten that out of the way

5.) Here comes the bride / Here comes the bride /  God be glorified / I can’t believe some cultures think this kind of thing’s alright (“Creepy Old Guy”)

listen I really genuinely find this song delightfully fun and has some genuinely clever lines, but god they really are down on their knees BEGGING you not to legitimately ship Lydia and Beej and it’s so funny. and by funny I mean this line is dumb. quick, let’s bring an entire song to a screeching stop, staring the audience dead in the eyes while we sing this line, to make sure nobody out there thinks we’re seriously advocating for teenage girls to marry ancient demons from hell.

4.) Cause Daddy’s in denial / Daddy doesn’t want to feel / He wants me to smile / And clap like a performing seal (“Dead Mom”)

full disclosure that I REALLY like “Dead Mom,” to the point that I think hearing a snippet of it might have been what got me to listen to the musical in the first place? it has a lot of lines that are on the cheesy side, like Lydia referring to herself as her dead mother’s “clone” and “strange creation,” but I’m honestly fully willing to let those slide because they do kind of sound the questionably good poetry a profoundly depressed teenager would come up with thinking it’s really, really deep.

I draw the line at this one, because it’s just. it’s a bad and lazy rhyme. it’s not so abrasive that it peels my skin off but lord, try a little harder. props to Sophia Anne Caruso for selling it as hard as she did. 

3.) I want freedom / But to get my freedom, I need them / To get a living person to say my name (The Fright of Their Lives)

okay, listen. this is a fun song. the interaction between Beej, Adam, and Barbara is fun, the segment where the backup choir gets summoned is really cool, and the soliloquy joke it actually pretty solid. unfortunately we lead into the choir segment with this bit, which is literally just Beej recapping his motivation for the entire audience, even though he’s already done that early in the show and will shortly do it AGAIN in “Say My Name.” 

I honestly sort of get why it might have felt necessary for the soundtrack-only fans, since the musical diverges from the movie, so that level of explanation might have felt necessary, but if anything that just makes this line a reminder of how needlessly convoluted the musical made itself. obviously there’s a fine line to walk when it comes to how much to use musical numbers to exposit, and the “I Want” song is a musical staple, but having your title character just flat out singing “I want x” is a little much for me.

2.) Don’t be so vanilla / Would a little anger kill ya? / C’mon, drop your panties / I’m trying to fill ya / With wisdom and skill / And the instinct to kill (“The Fright of Their Lives”)

again, I don’t have any beef against “The Fright of Their Lives.” and I UNDERSTAND that being a meaty pervert is, like, Beej’s entire personality, and that this wouldn’t even be wildly out of line with the 1988 version of the character. 

I get that, and I have mad the executive decision not to care! it’s viscerally uncomfortable to listen to and I was a more well-adjusted person before I heard it. @ Eddie Perfect, pay my fucking therapist - and while I have you here, can we talk about why making Beetlejuice down to sexually harass Adam along with Barbara maybe wasn’t the cool fun move you thought it would be? I have to see bi/pan pride art of him now, Eddie. 

1.) I’m trapped with no escape / Banished! Disavowed! / I vanished like a cloud of dirty hipster vape (“Invisible (Reprise)/On the Roof”)

if you listen really carefully one the OBC you can actually hear this line becoming less relevant by the second. for a musical based on a movie that’s over thirty years old, this show is weirdly hung up on making its humor #topical - this is also a callout for the joke about gay Republicans early in the show - which paradoxically means certain portions already feel more dated than the movie does. 

the pop cultural love of dunking on hipsters was pretty well played out by the time this show was running previews in 2018, and boy, it’s not getting any more relevant as time rolls on. maybe if this line wasn’t positioned in such a way that Alex Brightman has to emphasize the word “vape” like his life depends on it I could let it slide, but as is I have to physically brace myself for the psychic damage this line deals me every single time. 

[omgthatdress]

How to make Cats a good movie.

I watched Cats, and once I got over the initial horror, I was actually pretty entertained and found myself enjoying the shit out of it. Like god bless it, for as nightmare-inducing as much as it was, Tom Hooper was clearly *committed* to his vision and you gotta give him credit for that. The scenery was actually really beautiful and the cinematography was frequently breathtaking. Like it really did have a lot of elements that really worked for it. But for every bit of genius, there was something terrible that the movie just couldn’t overcome. So let’s dive in.

First of all, you kind of have to understand Cats: the musical. It’s an adaptation of poems that T.S. Elliott of nihilistic lost generation fame wrote for his godchildren about cats. And the poetry is charming af and totally captures the nature of cats and why they’re so lovable. In the in the 1970s, Andrew Lloyd Webber did a shit ton of cocaine and decided to make a musical out of these poems. As a result, Cats has no plot. It’s a bunch of cats singing their songs about who they are and doing a lot of dancing. The thinnest of narrative devices is created with the “jellicle” ball and the deciding of which cat gets to ascend to heaven or some shit. So yeah. Cats is actually pretty controversial among theater nerds, it’s very much a you either love it or hate it thing. Is it stupid? Yes.  Is it going to make everyone happy? No. Does it lend itself well to film adaptation? fuck no. I get the feeling that Tom Hooper was really going for deep, meaningful poetic cinema here and trying to make another Les Mis (which was way overly long and ultimately sank under its own sheer weight as a movie and probably is better viewed as a play). I’m operating under the assumption that Hooper was going for ground-breaking cinema that would have made millions and swept up during awards season and cemented him as a legendary director and gone down in movie history, because every little detail of Cats is clearly meant for maximum impact. You kind of need to drop all expectations going into Cats, so once you’re there, you can have fun with it. So how do you make it a good film?

1. The HORRIBLE hyper-realistic cgi human-cat hybrids. YES, it’s a technical marvel, and the CGI artists who made it all deserve a ton of credit for the work they did. And I understand why the actors were kept in their human shapes: live dance is a huge part of what makes Cats work. One of the smart decisions made was hiring theater veterans for the filler roles in the cat chorus, so when you have the choreographed numbers, it’s really spectacular. It’s just the end result was way too uncanny valley and bizarre for any of the film’s good parts to ever rise above it. I think a minimalist approach would have actually worked best. Cat ears and simple costumes with clean lines that show off the dancer’s bodies. Go for the suggestion of cats, and kind of let the viewer’s imagination take over, and showcase the cat’s personality. A huge part of what I enjoyed was hearing the poetry and imagining these cats and how they all relate to cats I’ve known. The dance and the music helped heighten this experience, but hybrids kept reminding me of the joke: what do you get when you cross a human and a cat? An immediate cessation of funding and a stern rebuke from the ethics committee.

2. The schlocky, honestly amateurish attempts at slapstick humor. I’m gonna come out and say it and say that Hooper is pretty deeply entrenched in *dRaMa* and has no sense of how comedy works. There was a lot of added in comedic bits from Rebel Wilson and James Corden, and it was honestly terrible. I mean really, a crotch hit? That kind of lowbrow comedy is so crude and base that it’s actually really hard to pull it off well. Slapstick comedy actually lends itself to the whimsical tone, and slapstick done well can be utterly sublime, but Cats seemed satisfied that fat people falling over is the height of comedy and should be left at that. And a second note on the comedy? Weirdly fat-shame-y. A saw a post about how odd it is to see James Corden, who has been very frank about how he’s struggled with dieting and come to accept that his body is fat and can’t be made not fat, playing this role where fat is added to his body, his CGI vest strains at the buttons, and he’s literally stuffing his face with garbage. The theme of fat people as lazy, stupid, and slovenly carried over from Rebel Wilson’s role, in which she also plays a fat lazy cat who is leaned on heavily for comic relief. I know the role is about a fat cat, and gently laughing at a fat lazy cat who loves to eat is fine, but, speaking as a fat person myself, this felt like a gleeful exploitation of a nasty and cruel stereotype. James Corden and Rebel Wilson are both extraordinarily funny people who happen to be fat, and their comedic gifts were tremendously mis-used here, reducing them to simply two fat bodies to be laughed at.

3. Jennifer Hudson. She’s a talented actress who can sing and emote like a motherfucker. And emote she did. She was clearly GOING for that second Oscar. I really don’t want to call her performance bad. The same level of emotion, tears running and snot flowing, in another movie, would have been devastating (Hello, Viola Davis in Fences). But this isn’t Fences, it’s fucking Cats. You need a level of character depth and development that Cats doesn’t afford to make those tears hit. All the crying and misery was an odd maudlin and over-dramatic break in the fun and whimsy. With a subtler performance and a hint of self-awareness, it could have actually brought in an emotional anchor for this light-as-air film, but Cats doesn’t make any attempt at nuance, and as a result the scenes just hit you out of nowhere like a load of bricks. 

4. Francesca Hayward. Okay, before we go anywhere, I want to say that this girl is not un-talented. She’s the principal ballerina of the Royal Ballet, and has a very long list of ballets that she’s lead in. So it makes sense that she’d be hired for a role that’s primarily ballet. This girl is a really really great DANCER. But Cats was clearly trying to make an A-list actress out of her. They tried to make her into Florence Pugh, who has been acting for a while and is blowing up right now because she’s very talented. Like everything about Francesca’s role in the film said “This is a star-making role.” A new song was written just for her to sing as an addendum to Cats’s show-stopping signature song. But the song was just okay, it didn’t carry nearly the emotional weight or all-around beauty of “Memories,” and all in all felt wedged-in and totally unnecessary and really just felt like a grab at that “best original song” Oscar. Francesca’s voice is high, thin, and child-like. It’s not unpleasant, but next to the richness and depth of Jennifer Hudson’s voice, it crumbles, and it’s not the sort of voice that I want to seek out to listen to over and over again. As for her overall performance, she largely keeps the same look of wide-eyed wonder throughout her numerous close-ups, so much so that I found myself thinking of the the MST3K “dull surprise” sketch. But I don’t know if that’s really entirely her fault. There was an attempted romantic storyline with the magic cat, but again, because of the nature of Cats and its lack of real character development or depth, the chemistry fell flat. There really isn’t much of a chance to show off a lot of dramatic range, so to keep going back to her character, it kept reinforcing the one-notedness of her performance. Really, I just kept wanting to see Francesca dance. Ironically, I think they really blew an opportunity trying to make an A-list actress out of her. All she really need to make people want to see more of her is one spectacular dance number, but for some reason, she never really gets that show-stopping moment. 

5. Dignity? I guess this goes back to the whole CGI cat thing, but there were a lot of moments when I felt this tremendous wave of second-hand embarrassment hit me on behalf of the talented actors in this film. Watching Gandalf lap up milk from a saucer was a wholly uncomfortable experience, like come on, grant the great Ian McKellan some fucking DIGNITY here. Which goes back to whatI said earlier that a suggestion and interpretation of cats would have worked better than all-out just being a cat. Or it could again just be how much Cats just fails its attempts at comedy. But then again there was no fucking reason at all for Idris Elba to be that fucking NAKED. I guess they were trying to make him sexy? But his sexy smolder and just being Idris Elba wasn’t enough they had to make sure that we all saw his chiseled pecs and thick thighs. And then at the end when he’s dangling off of the rope of a hot air balloon and what’s supposed to be a funny scene, I think, I kept thinking “I’m so sorry this is happening to you, Idris.” 

There’s a bunch of other small, nit-picky things that I could go into. Those cockroaches would have worked so much better if they weren’t humans with an extra set of arms. Watching them get eaten was some horror movie shit. Taylor Swift’s Macavity song would have worked a lot better if the cat chorus full of cats we’ve gotten to know had sung it, but instead Taylor Swift is brought in as a new cat we don’t know whose only purpose is to sing the Macavity song? but of course a big oscar-bait movie needs to have that pop star that draws in the people who wouldn’t otherwise see it and making her a part of the cat chorus would have had her performing throughout the whole movie and she would have floundered the way pop stars tend to do when performing musical theater around a bunch of musical theater actors. So I guess I get why she was thrown in.

So.... yeah? Is there anyone else who found themselves enjoying it in spite of everything? I’m glad I have dogs and didn’t have to watch this mess with actual cats around me.

[thekidultlife]

The Most Convenient Escape | Jihoon Soulmate!AU (4)

⍟ Pairing: Jihoon x fem!reader

⍟ AU: Fantasy/ Soulmate AU

⍟ Genre: ANGST, SLOW BURN, fluff

⍟ Warnings: ANGST. family trauma, slight self harming, mentions of drinking (this chapter is heavy. Please read at your own discretion!!!!)

⍟ Word Count: 4.1k

⍟ Synopsis: For all your life, you have a deep disdain towards Soulmate Bonds, so much so that you are able to write opinions about it in a local newspaper. However, as life would have it, you wake up one day bonded to a person you hardly knew. Throwing in an investigation, annoying roommates, and a revolution looming just beneath the surface, you had to seek for the most convenient escape.

⍟ A/N: I need to really double my warnings because some content written in this chapter might be triggering to some people. It’s a heavy chapter but I need to show why Y/N hates the Soulmate Bond so much. So please read it ONLY when you are 100% SURE that it’s okay for you to.

I also want to thank @oprandomfeels and @zuvaati for leaving those comments on the tags and everyone who reblogged and commented on this series because it really kept me going writing this chapter! You guys remind me that there are people out there who are looking forward for more of this series. I was in a huge slump recently that it’s been difficult for me to write anything at all, even though how much I actually enjoy writing this before. So I’m really really thankful for everyone!! I’m so glad a few of you liked this one! Alright, that’s all! Here’s chapter 4!

CHAP 1 | CHAP 2 | CHAP 3 | CHAP 4 |  CHAP 5 |  CHAP 6 |

“And then what happened?”

It was, as always, a glorious day. The weather was warm despite the season, the breeze was cool to the skin and the perpetually blooming wisteria trees gave purple shade to anyone who would sit underneath. 

With an intense headache that could only be remedied by a hangover potion you have discretely snatched from your father’s wares, you were once again seated next to two of your very best friends, who were more or less intrigued by what had transpired last night.

“Like I told you! Nothing happened!” 

You exclaimed, now grumbling because it had shot another pang of dull pain to your temples. 

“What do you mean nothing happened? He brought you to your room, plus you were drunk! Don’t tell me you didn’t at least kiss him?” Soonyoung objected, quite concerned about your unintentional celibacy. 

“And why on earth would I kiss him?” You shouted back, scratching your head. “Just because he took me to my room, something is bound to happen?”

“The situation couldn’t be anymore suggestive than that, you know?” Wonwoo quietly added, twirling a pen on his fingers. “You can’t blame us for expecting something.”

Groaning at this, you took another dose of the disgusting potion on your hands. It tasted like fish left for days out in the open, and weirdly, of cinnamon. While you were trying to quell your headache, another comes in.

“Could we just put a stop to this?” You asked as you pinched the bridge of your nose. “I don’t know why you both are so curious about my night, but don’t we have more pressing matters to attend to?”

On your words, both Soonyoung and Wonwoo turned their gazes to somewhere else; anything else other than you. 

“Oh Wonwoo, don’t you think the weather is so nice today?”

“This tea sure is delicious. Where did you buy this, Soonyoung?”

You could feel a vein in your head tick in irritation. 

“Surely, you both don’t mean that my sacrifice to attend that stupid ball, to spend a night with Lee Jihoon...all of it,” you began as the two of them gulped at the dangerous intent you were emitting. “Was it all completely useless?!” 

Hurriedly, Wonwoo held a hand at you. “Alright, alright! Calm down! Let me explain.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him; your arms crossed. “Do, pray tell.”

“Look,” Wonwoo sighed as he glanced at Soonyoung who was being a bit sulky. “The meeting was cancelled. Someone had probably tipped them off, we don’t know. It was a good idea that we didn’t go inside the room, or else they would’ve known we’re on to them.” 

Your scrutinizing gaze suddenly transformed into something tinged with concern. Sighing, you exchanged looks with them. 

“Are you sure no one that night has realized who you two are?”

Wonwoo nodded gravely. Soonyoung followed suit. “Absolutely.”

“That’s good, but we should be more careful from now on. We don’t know who to trust and anyone could put the two of you in difficult situations,” you warned in a hushed voice. “You could’ve walked out of the Crystal Palace as criminals framed for sex trafficking.”

Soonyoung suddenly realized the gravity of their actions and frowned. Wonwoo was no different, but a lot calmer than his friend. 

“We’ll proceed with caution from here on out. Yet there is absolutely no way I will walk out from this investigation,” Wonwoo declared, his eyes determined. 

“I second. We will get to the bottom of this,” the other male added, glancing at you and Wonwoo.

You nodded at them and smiled softly, understanding their convictions. “We're in this together.” 

There was no way of knowing what the next few months would look like for the three of you and your small publication, yet you have to push on; you have to gamble your own safety for the truth. It was frightening of course, but the fear was not enough to quench the fire within you. 

“But the matter still stands,” Wonwoo interrupted your thoughts, taking a sip of his tea. “You really should have kissed Lee Jihoon.”

◇

The man in question pushed through the French doors leading to an expansive rose garden.

The cultured autumn roses were in full bloom in late September as its scent wafts through the air, creating a romantic feel throughout the area. Devoid of any tall trees, one could easily see the breadth of the garden as it extends to the forest of oak at the far end of the estate. The beauty of the garden was stupendous yet not surprising as the owner of such place was a high-ranking noble of ancient pedigree. A blue grey pavilion lay at the center where Lee Jihoon easily spotted the people he was about to meet.

Fresh from a hearing, Jihoon still had his uniform on, just minus the heavy robes he was required to wear in Parliament. Every third week of the month or so, a meeting is usually scheduled between his longtime friends. Just to check up on each other of course, or often times, something more. 

Marching towards the pavilion in undeterred steps, Jihoon was greeted by a warm call and the scent of brewed coffee. 

“Aren’t you running a bit late, Jihoon?” An older male asked, his military uniform easily indicating that he was a five-star general, and someone no one wanted to mess with. 

“I apologize, Seungcheol. The hearing went on more than I thought it would,” he replied, finally taking a seat on one plush cherry wood arm chair with an exhausted huff. 

“Coffee or tea?” Another asked, his lips curving into a small smile as he offered Jihoon the refreshments on the table. 

“Coffee, please. And make it black. I need something to liven my spirits up,” he replied as the other poured him one on a dainty cup commonly intended for tea. 

The man named Seungcheol simply chuckled at his friend. “Oh? Is something the matter? You look like you haven’t had a good day lately. Don’t you think so, Joshua?”

“He certainly needs coffee, in my opinion.” 

“Oh, don’t you know it,” Jihoon dismissed as he slumped on the chair, covering his tired eyes with an arm. 

“I suppose the recently discovered Cilvekan agents aren’t making anything easier,” the man named Joshua added as he placed the cup of coffee in front of Jihoon who had eagerly sipped on it at once. 

“It is making things a lot worse. It’s the reason why the hearing for today had become so long-winded,” Jihoon sighed, placing down the cup. “There are some who just can’t decide what to do with them.” 

“To be perfectly honest, it would’ve been more useful if they were interned to the military intelligence department. We could’ve used them to double cross,” Seungcheol added, leaning back against his chair. “Now that they have been publicized and a hearing is in full swing, they’re practically useless.” 

Joshua simply tutted at Seungcheol, knowing full well that he was part of the military and thus biased on his views. 

“Nonetheless, it is best advised that we steer clear from such strategies. Espionage during times of relative peace is questionable in varying degrees. It could lead us to a war we never wanted. Notwithstanding the fact that it is me who would have to clean this up if something happens,” he took a sip from his coffee cup. “I reckon we double, even triple our counterintelligence measures against agents here in Porta Persa. We clearly have no idea who we are to trust these days.”

Jihoon listened to Joshua’s suggestion, understanding what the Minister of Foreign Affairs meant. 

“I’m still undecided on my opinion but I’m leaning on Joshua on this matter. A war with Cilveka is totally uncalled for when there’s one looming just underneath our fingertips,” Jihoon remarked, crossing his arms with a serious expression on his delicate features. 

Seungcheol took a sip from his cup gravely. “I suppose it is inevitable of a future. Considering that we ourselves are partially responsible for not taking action.”

Jihoon and Joshua glanced at Seungcheol with grim look. They knew. 

“As Jeonghan isn't here, I might as well ask if you're to release more material for him to use, Jihoon,” Joshua remarked suddenly as the other simply heaved a sigh, brushing his dark hair with his fingers.

Jihoon once again sighed, another burden heavy on his shoulders. 

"I don't think I can do it any longer," Jihoon said. "The deeper my bond with her gets, the more I'm convinced that the songs I write is all propaganda. It weighs on me."

The two men furrowed their brows at him, wondering what he was talking about.

"Her?"

"Propaganda?"

"You know," Jihoon replied, doing gestures with his hands since he found it difficult to articulate what he was trying to say. 

For a while, Seungcheol and Joshua simply glanced at Jihoon with bewilderment. He wasn't exactly making sense with how he was just making shapes with his hands. That is until the general remembered their past conversation from last month. 

“Ah, this is about your soulmate, isn’t it?”

“Did something happen between the two of you?” Joshua asked with curious eyes. 

"No, I just…" he groaned again, "How do I say this? It's all… it's all so confusing! She's confusing me!" 

"Why is that? Isn't a soulmate bond supposed to prevent confusion between parties?" Joshua asked. 

"You do know our bond is different…" Jihoon remarked, and taking note of his friends' expressions, he took it upon himself to explain. "Like I told you before, she hates our bond, she hates our connection. She tried to with tamper it so I couldn't get through, but that simply made the bond unstable. Now, whether she likes it or not, her thoughts are constantly on my mind like a thick fog of ideas. It's virtually impossible not to be influenced by them."

“Have some more coffee, Jihoon. You need it,” Joshua offered as he poured into Jihoon’s cup. 

“Thank you,” the other casually took it, and continued. "Her thoughts become mine. Her passions make me doubt my own actions which I never had to before. It's…she's changing me, and I don't know if I like it or not."

The two men were quiet, Seungcheol more so because of his own soulmate bond. 

“Honestly, I’m so confused,” Jihoon confessed. “I don’t know what to do. I can't even tell her any of this.”

"Yours is a special case Jihoon," the general began as he thumbed on the ring on his left hand. "I won't pretend I understand everything about what you're going through, but all I can say is that these soulmate bonds are meant to change you. You can't be mere individuals anymore, living different lives on this earth. You have been bonded by magic and by the Universe; both your minds and hearts have become one single unit. If she has influenced you, it would be the same for her. If you are confused, she is too. And that's natural because both of you are transforming into beings that will eventually live your lives together and form a healthy family." 

"I don't know Seungcheol. I want my freedom in my thoughts and in my actions. Everything I've known is turned upside down and it's making me uncomfortable." 

"She must be feeling the same way too. Didn't you say she hated the bond itself? She must have hated how someone else's thoughts are entering her mind as much as you do," Joshua interrupted, his voice calming and sweet on Jihoon's nerves. "Look, Jihoon. You're a strong person. You're someone who's intelligent, hardworking and efficient in everything you do. You can do everything by yourself. But that is also your greatest weakness. You're too comfortable on your own. You're afraid to let anyone else in because it could ruin the balance you've maintained in your life. I admit that soulmate bonds are frightening in its own way, but it's there in order for us to grow."

"But I've got you, my friends and my family to share my burdens. Isn't that what I'm doing right now?" He asked, now a bit frustrated.

"But you hold us at a distance. You've never been able to truly share that side of yours that is raw and vulnerable. You know you can't stay like this forever," Seungcheol continued, parrying Jihoon's argument. 

Jihoon sat himself straight in a huff, unable to reply because he knew Seungcheol had hit the target directly. He is afraid, yet he refuses to admit it. He thought that having a bond would make things easier for him, but everything proved to be much more than he can swallow. 

For a moment, Jihoon sat there in silence as he took a sip of lukewarm coffee from his cup, yet his feelings of tension refuse to calm down, the hairs on his back standing in aggression. It was unusual since he was no longer conversing with Seungcheol and Joshua, and tried to dive deeper into the feeling.

In an instant, he knew it wasn't his. 

A pang of pain flashed inside his chest, making him clutch on it with a tight grip. The cup he was holding fell to the ground into pieces, as Seungcheol immediately raced to his side. 

"Jihoon! Is something wrong?" He exclaimed, watching the other groan in pain and then turned to Joshua. "We have to take him to hospital!" 

"I'll prepare the carriage!" 

"No!" Jihoon suddenly shouted, his breaths turning shallow. "No…no….I need to go back to the dorm. I need to find her." 

◇

Exhausting your supply of hangover potions, you went back to your house in town to steal from your father's wares. You never really had a problem with brewing potions, proving that you had an affinity to the craft which could've been passed down to you from your father but come heaven and hell, you will never admit that. 

With a small wooden box attached with a leather strap that hangs from your shoulders, you sneaked into the empty house and to your father's now closed shop. Much to your surprise though, the lights were on and heavy crates tower beside the ingredients cabinet. 

"Oh, you're here."

A familiar voice greeted you from the office, making you turn around swiftly. 

"Father…" you replied, your face marred with sharp eyes and a deep frown. 

"Are you staying at the Royal Academy now?" He asked, stepping out from the shadows and into the light pouring from the glass windows of the shop. He was much tanner and thinner, a clue that he has been to the tropics for some time. 

"Yes. I'll be taking some potions and some stuff with me. I'll be gone as soon as I can," you told him with a cold voice as you filled your box haphazardly with numerous ingredients in a way that they almost slipped out of the container. 

“How is Soonyoung and Wonwoo?”

You curtly replied. “They’re good. Still the same.”

“Are you eating well? Are the dorms good enough for you?”

“They’re fine. I’m living comfortably.”

“Have you met any new friends?”

“I’ve met a few people.”

“Who are they and where are they from?”

You huffed, annoyed and impatient that this conversation was still ongoing. “I can send you a list later if that makes you happy.”

“Don’t join those sororities or fraternities, do you understand? They’re dens of insurgents.”

You chose not to reply, his subjects gradually turning sour in your opinion. Talking to him always felt like talking to a machine.  

If there was any way much faster than the rate you're going right now, you would've done it. You wanted to leave as soon as possible with just a few words and greetings exchanged. Heart thumping with adrenaline, you were fueled by the darkness inside of you, yet you kept it concealed before things could get ugly. 

"I heard from Mr. Kwon that you're still running around with that little tabloid of yours," your father began and you knew instantly where it would lead to, "You better stop this childish play and find something meaningful thing to do." 

If there was anything stopping you before, it was long gone now. 

"It's not childish play!" You screamed, ignoring the fact that Alizarin berries had scattered on the floor. "You don't understand how much this means to me! You never even tried to understand me! So don't try and pretend you know what's good for me when you don't know who I am!"

Your blood was pumping wildly in your veins, your fists tightly clenched. Anger that has long been restrained now broken free and flowing rapidly in your blood. But you knew this was exhausting, so you tried to slip away as fast as you could.

"Have you forgotten how much I sacrificed for you, you ungrateful child? How much I worked so hard so you would be able to live comfortably?" He retorted back, watching your once retreating figure stop from reaching out for the door.

"I never wanted any of those! I never begged you for luxuries! We could be hungry and homeless right now, I don't care! I know we could crawl out of that eventually!" You shouted, your shaking back was the only thing he could see, until you turned to him, your cheeks wet with tears. "I only want one thing, Dad! Just one thing! I wanted you to stay with me… For you to show me that I still had a father even after mom died. Yet you couldn't give it to me." 

"No, you listen to me. I had to leave for you to have food to eat! I had to work hard for you! Don't you know how much I love you? How much I did for you? I don't think you understand that because you keep on running around with that silly paper pretending you know everything about the world."

It was always like this. You already knew. Arguing with someone like him, you felt, was like talking to a wall. He was in a different page and refuses to see your own. The real child here, you begin to question who it really was. 

Yet you kept going, the fury in you refusing to subside.

"Do you ever listen to anything I say?Yes! Just neglect your own daughter and give her all the money in the world and expect her to be grateful! Yes! That's what a good parent is! If mother was still alive, she would've loved me more than all the food you could ever give me! You would never know how much strength I needed to have when you left me here all alone!" 

Your jaw was rigid with sorrow rage, teeth gritting. Yet, much to your surprise, all he did was laugh at you mockingly. 

"Isn't that great? You being so strong after all!" 

It hurt you, more than anything. The look on your father's face, the dismissal, the invalidation of all your emotional needs, your need for his love and compassion, you never thought a parent was capable of doing that to a child. 

More tears stream down your face as you were shaken into silence. The pain in your chest unbearable, your breath turning into laboured heaves. It had hurt. It hurts so much. It wasn't really the words themselves, but the intention to mock, to belittle; that was the one that struck you to your core. 

"I hate you…" you muttered in a low voice, shaking and begging to be understood. "I hate you so much! I needed your love back then! I needed unconditional love! Yet where were you? Where were you, huh? Soonyoung and Wonwoo are much my brothers more than you are my father! They were there for me come hell and high water!" 

You took a breath and continued, your voice rising.

"But it's too late now. You can no longer take back the words you've said. No matter how much you tell me you love me, I would never believe you! You never loved me! Or mom! Or anyone! You only loved yourself and your money!"

Turning around you reached for the door, not even listening to his outraged tantrums behind you. Your own anger too loud in your ears.

"Since you care about gratitude so much," your voice was still hoarse yet resolute, as you were halfway out of the door. "I'll give you two carriages full of gold within five years from the profits we gained from that silly newspaper. That's for everything you bought and did for me since I was born. Think of it as severance pay. You lost me. Goodbye."

Leaving those scathing words behind, you ran as fast as you could. Faster and faster than the wind could ever take you. Your tears were streaming down your face, the wooden box slinging carelessly as it bounced against your hip, yet you continued running down the cobbled road to a destination no one really knows. 

All you could hear was your heartbeat slamming against your chest, the muffled cries you attempt to quiet down, the sound of your heel clicking on stone. Running away felt liberating as the wind slapped harshly on your cheeks. Yet your heart was in so much pain that you forget everything else. 

Reaching the Royal Academy dorms, you forcibly opened the door to your shared room as you immediately raced towards your own room; afraid to encounter someone you didn't really want to see. 

Yet of course, he was there. Lee Jihoon was there. 

Waiting at the common living room, he rose at your presence, his expression tinged with great worry at your state of ruin. He ran up to you, trying to make you stop moving away. 

"Y/N! What's the matter? Why are you crying?" 

His question however were brought to deaf ears as you pushed him away, shaking your head at his close proximity. You didn't want to see him. His presence simply amplified the pain you were feeling.

"Leave me be, Jihoon!" You screamed, pushing him further from your doorway. "I don't want to see you! You're the last person I want to be comforted by!"

You slammed the door, the desolate sound reverberating across the expansive room as you sat there on the floor, still crying. 

You were tired, exhausted. Legs that were trembling with fatigue, lungs that were almost bursting at the seams. Your heart was aching with so much pain and heaviness. 

I will no longer believe in anything. Love is temporary. Love will eventually fade away.  Soulmate bonds are stupid and fake. It's stupid. Stupid. Stupid. This is stupid.

You choke out a cry. 

Gathering all the strength left in your body, you crawled to your bedside and pulled out a huge and heavy trunk from underneath. As you unlocked it with not much gentleness than trying to break it, you were greeted by various bottles of potions. 

If soulmate bonds could really bring happiness, then why is it that I'm in so much pain? Why did mom die then?

Eyes spying on the clear glass bottles, it didn't take much time for you to decided what to do. 

If this is what love is, then I don't need it. If I'm just going to suffer, then I don't want it. I'm fine on my own. I don't need stupid soulmates to make me happy.

Picking up a familiar bottle, you harshly pulled out the stopper and swallowed everything in one gulp. Instantly, you felt the effects moving under your skin, making you shiver, yet it didn't matter, the pain in your heart was far more painful than anything you’ve feeling right now. The magic wrapped itself around your wrist, tighter and tighter like a vice suffocating the bond.

From now on, I'm living for myself, by myself. I don't need love from anyone. I won't beg for love from anyone. No one could ever give it to me but myself.

Another set of sobs spilled itself from your lips as you clung tightly on anything you could get your hands on. They continued gushing like an uncontrollable waterfall, as your heart rejects the words your head was conditioning you to feel. You knew you wanted love more than anything, but that would only make you weak. And weakness is the last thing you needed right now. 

I need to erase every last bit.

Pulling the glove which was hiding your bond mark, you gazed at it with extreme disgust on your face. The thick horizontal bars only reminded you of your father's mocking laugh. 

I hate this. I hate this. 

You rubbed on the black lines with your thumb, hoping that it would lighten the color. But of course, it didn't, so you continued to rub it off. Again and again, and again until your thumb was warm and your wrist an inflamed red. 

Disgusting. This disgusting thing! I wish you never came into my life!

In desperation, you scratched it with your sharp nails, teeth clenched. It was ugly. It felt like chains binding you to a future you never believed in. Straight bruises of scratch marks mar your skin, yet it didn't matter to you. The pain was dull and empty compared to the weight on your chest. 

Stupid. Disgusting. Ugly. I hate this bond. I hate this so much!

"I'm so tired…" you muttered to yourself, burying your face on the soft mattress. 

"Why can't I just be happy?"

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-Hyeri