#and each ep has taken me over an hour to finish

[raventhekittycat]

okay it's 2:48. Should I sleep and finish the last ep tomorrow with special party drinks for Rum or should I push ahead?

[cowboycakes]

Do You Get My Letters

✥ Pairing: Levi x fem!Reader, somewhat Reiner x fem!Reader

✥ Themes: Fluff, angst, sadness, big ass plot twist

✥ Warnings: Female bodied reader (she/her pronouns,) Pregnancy and birth (nothing gory.) Mentions of death, violence, and threats. Manipulation.

✥ Synopsis: You are carrying Reiner's baby when he betrays Paradis. Levi decides to step in.

✥ Word Count: 2.2k

(there is a part two up to this fic, but i've decided i'm going to rewrite the ending at some point.)

Anon's Request: Hi! I saw your requests are open so here I want to give my little scenario a try! 🕳🤸🏽‍♀️ I thought abt this last night, I’m currently rewatching AOT after 6 yrs and yet to finish season 4, so sorry if I’m wrong abt timelines/the plot? My request is the reader was with child with Reiner, but b4 reader told him, he betrayed and exposed his mission. Levi stepped in to help reader. And btw, I just finished watching ep 3 of season 4, so maybe Eren telling reiner abt his child and he regrets leaving the reader? And reiner jealous at the fact Levi is most likely considered his child’s father at that point. I can’t come up with an ending, so I’ll leave it up to you if you do take in my request. If this isn’t your type of writing I totally understand!

Note: This story is canon divergent. It is set in season 4, but in a universe where Reiner is not revealed as a traitor/the armored titan until a few months before season 4 takes place, as the reader was having relations with him until then and did not know his secret. I’m sorry if that change bothers you, I just wanted to write this as sort of its own story. This story contains season 4 spoilers! It also has nothing to do with the canon ending of AOT.

---

Dear Reiner,

I hope this letter somehow gets to you, I don’t quite know where to start.

In a perfect world, I would be so happy to tell you this. You’d be ecstatic too, I think. And before you try to second guess me: I’m sure by now, don’t worry.

I’m pregnant.

I guess we weren’t careful enough before you left. I feel like an idiot. And lost. But I’m not hopeless. I know myself, I can make it work somehow. With or without you.

I’m still in shock about you. How could someone so close hide so much? You’re a talented spy I suppose, a great asset to Marley. You made me trust you with my entire life. You made me love every false thing about you. And this is the rude awakening I get in return.

I’ll raise our child to value honesty and kindness, all in spite of you.

Sincerely,

Reader

---

The paper was damp with tears after you lifted your pen for a final time. You wished you could just keep the whole thing a secret: go make a quiet life for yourself somewhere else. It wouldn’t be right. Not after all of the dishonesty that man had spewed to you over the past few years. You had to tell him.

The door to the office room you’d settled in to write the letter creaks open. It’s Levi. He looks at your puffy eyes somberly, sympathetic. He was the first person you had told about the entire situation. Not because you were close, just because you needed help.

You fold your letter and stick it into a sturdy envelope. Levi takes it in his hand.

“That piece of shit doesn’t deserve a thing from you. Not a letter. Certainly not tears,” Levi says, using a clean handkerchief to wipe a stray drop from your cheek, “but I am proud of you.”

You take the handkerchief from him, feeling more tears stream down your face.

“Proud? I’m a fucking idiot,” you say through your sobs.

“Don’t even try to pull that self pity shit with me. Things happen sometimes. And you’re strong enough to commit to getting through it,” he responds.

You stand up, pushing your chair out. You look at him as you dry your face off again.

“I’m alone. How the hell am I supposed to do this shit alone?”

“You are not alone,” Levi replies. You’re shocked when he pulls you into a hug. “I’m going to help.”

You had never seen this side of him before. You look at him as you pull away slowly, tears still welled in your eyes.

“Are you sure? That's a big burden, Levi. None of this has to involve you.”

“Not the biggest burden I’ve ever taken on,” he shrugs. “There’s a lot of death around here, Y/N. Everyone is going to be happy about the little bit of life you’re giving us.”

You chuckle. He’s cynical, but he’s right.

He licks the envelope as he walks toward the door.

“Want me to run you a hot bath or something? Is that the type of shit pregnant people need?” he asks.

You laugh, a little harder than normal. It felt so relieving to laugh.

“Sure, Captain,” you respond softly.

---

Dear Reader,

I received your letter before the battle in Marley. I actually got to hand it to Reiner myself. He knows everything now. He broke down in front of me after reading it, going on about how much he regrets everything. How he wishes he could change things and be there for you. He begged me to kill him right there.

The world will eventually not have suffering like what you are going through now.

Eren Jaeger

---

Your jaw had dropped reading it. He begged me to kill him.

You hand the letter Levi had just delivered back to him. He reads it with a furrowed brow.

“Do you think…” you begin, your voice shaky, “do you think I could send another letter?”

Levi purses his lips, “Possibly. I can ask Jaeger. But right now, you need to bring your blood pressure back down.”

You were over seven months along now. You had found out about your pregnancy late, after being in denial for four whole months. Hange insisted on checking you out after you’d thrown up every morning for a week.

Levi had since gone on a parenting book reading spree; he made you read several of them too. He knew just about everything you needed to do to make a healthy baby: what to eat, what not to eat, how to exercise, when to go to the doctor, etc. It was really sweet how much he cared. You knew it gave him hope, something to fight for, something to come home to.

You were terrified when he left for Marley. You kissed him for the first time when he returned. Just about everyone you knew had to fight. You wished you could be out there fighting with them like you were supposed to. Maybe you could have made a difference.

Levi takes your hand, squeezing it to bring you out of your thoughts.

“What can I do?” he asks.

“Get me a glass of wine,” you grumble.

“Absolutely not.”

---

Dear Reiner,

Reader does not know I’m sending this. So keep it that way, or I’ll kill your sorry ass. Or maybe not, you’d probably enjoy that. In that case I’ll get creative.

How does it feel? Being a fucking deadbeat? Is it everything you’d thought it’d be and more? Fucking her and leaving her with nothing, like she belongs in a whorehouse. Reminds me of what happened to my mother. Pieces of shit like you came in and sent her to her death, leaving her kid behind to starve.

I wasn’t about to let her suffer like my mother did. But you were. I’m glad your choices haunt you, Reiner. You fucking deserve it.

I’ll be there for the both of them from now on, doing everything you were never capable of. She’s due any day now, I’m sure she’ll try to write to you.

Levi

---

You feel your first contraction while napping on the couch with Levi. You were settled in between his legs, your back leaning up against his chest. He had his hands on your stomach; he loved to feel the baby kick and tell them some of the happier stories in his memories.

The two of you had grown so close over the past few months. You slept together every night now. You didn’t want to leave each other’s sides if you didn’t have to. Levi would cuddle and massage you any time your pregnant body was ailing you.

You had fantasized with him about life after the war. He wanted to be a husband, a father, to live peacefully in the countryside. And he wanted more than anything for you to join him.

The first contraction wasn’t painful enough for you to make much more than a grunting noise, but Levi woke up the second he felt your stomach contort a bit. He was on very high alert these days.

“Holy… shit…is that what I think it is?” Levi whispers, “Don’t answer. I’m getting Hange.”

He crawls out from behind you and sprints out of the room.

The pain worsens and becomes much more frequent while he’s out looking for Hange. You stand up eventually after getting the urge to walk around - and your water breaks. You start panicking, unsure of how dilated you were and how much time you had left before pushing. You really wished you’d done more than just skimmed through those birthing books right about now.

Levi and Hange eventually come sprinting back into the room with a wheelchair and cold rags to find you whimpering in pain on the couch, trying your best to control your breathing.

You’re rushed down the halls to the Scout’s infirmary, where Levi had made sure the perfect room was set up for you - and it had been that way for two months.

The next hour goes by in a blur. Hange knew the biology of how to deliver the baby, and Levi knew how to coach you. He helped you hold your legs back when you pushed, and helped you count out your breathing. Hange attended to everything that might have made Levi faint, like checking your dilation and making sure the baby was coming out at the right angle. You got lucky having these two by your side.

Through all of your efforts, you finally hear a cry. You look up to see Levi holding your tiny new baby as Hange wiped them clean. He was smiling, way bigger than you’d ever seen him smile before, with tears in his eyes.

“Here,” he says softly, handing her to you.

You cradle her on your bare skin. “She’s so perfect, Levi! Look how sweet she is!” you coo.

“What are you going to call her?” he asks, stroking your hair as you gleam down at your baby.

“I was thinking,” you smile, “Kuchel.”

Levi lets out small gasp. Tears start streaming down his face, his efforts to stifle them failing.

“Really? I think that’s,” he wipes his eyes, “a wonderful name.”

—-

Dear Reiner,

She’s finally here! Oh my god, she’s precious. Levi and Hange helped to deliver her. Labor went smoothly. Levi started to cry when he saw her for the first time. She really is just that perfect. We are calling her Kuchel, after Levi’s mother. He cried when I told him that, too (don’t tell him I’m sharing those crying details.) I've decided to give her Levi’s last name as well.

Levi set up the perfect nursery for us.

If you really did feel guilty for leaving - don’t be. I’m happy.

She has your eyes.

Sincerely,

Reader

—-

Dear Reiner,

Kuchel said her first word today. Of course it wasn’t mama, she’s such a daddy’s girl. She started crawling awhile ago, we are now working on standing up on our own. She has all of this blonde curly hair, too. She’s growing up so fast.

Reader

—-

Dear Reiner,

Levi proposed a few days ago. It was so perfect. We found a nice house with room for a farm that will be perfect for a family.

I can only wonder how you’re doing, now that the war is over.

Are you even alive?

Reader

—-

Dear Reiner,

I’m expecting again. Levi is beyond excited. I am too, of course. Kuchel started school this year. She is such a smart kid.

I still wonder about you. After all these years.

Reader

—-

Message after message, word after word. No response. You had decided he must be dead. The devastation after the war would argue that he was.

That is, until you found yourself rummaging through one of Levi’s desk drawers, looking for baby Isabel’s lost pacifier.

You felt the bottom of the drawer shift. A false bottom?

You pry at it until it comes open.

Letters.

Dozens of opened letters. With Marleyan postage stamps.

You pull out the first bundle you see. They’re all from you. Unopened. Unsent. You set them aside, your jaw quivering.

You pull out the second bundle and gasp.

—-

Dear Reader,

Eren showed me your letter. I am terribly sorry. Let me fix this, somehow. You can come to live with me in Marley. I will take care of you. Please.

I’m not just a traitor, a liar, a farce. Everything between us was real. I can explain everything. Just trust me.

Love,

Reiner

—

Dear Reader,

Do you get my letters?

I’ve only heard rumors about our new baby girl. I wish I could see her. Just once. For a second. Do you have a camera? I know they’re hard to come by in Paradis. I can send one.

I’d do anything to change this. You know I would.

Love,

Reiner

—-

To Levi,

You son of a bitch. I know exactly what you’re doing. You think this is protecting her, but it’s not. Just let her talk to me. She would listen, she would understand. You said yourself that she writes. You manipulative, sick bastard. That is MY child. She will never be yours. No matter what you brainwash her to believe, your dirty Ackerman blood does not run through her veins. She deserves to know. You are the farce, Levi.

Reiner

—-

There were dozens more. All opened. All from Reiner.

You sink down to the floor, tears spilling from your eyes.

You are the farce, Levi.

But, why? He was just protecting you, right?

The office door opens. You jump, shoving the letters back into the drawer.

“Mommy, why are you crying?” Kuchel asks.

You take a deep breath, staring down at the letters, thinking about everything that could have been.

“Are you happy here, Kuchel?”

“Yes!” she chirps, “Every day!”

“Then it’s nothing, baby. Mommy just got hurt. She’s better now.”

Your daughter giggles and skips out of the room, leaving you to hide away the rest of the letters.

༺♥༻

I REALLY HOPE I understood your request, Anon! I actually had a lot of fun writing this. It isn't something I would normally think to write, but I'm so glad you shared this idea! Sorry for the sad ending, I love playing w people's emotions ;)

༺♥༻

[shijiujun]

Lonely Dream | 孤梦

Summary: And when all is done and dusted, sometimes Lao Wen still gets those headaches of his, and the spots where Ah Xu had the nails driven in stil throb in pain on a cold, rainy day.

Some slice of life and domesticity for WenZhou as they enjoy more years than they expected to have initially, together.

Notes: OKAY so there are too many theories going out there for special ep ending, and nah not going there! So the concept of this is SOMEHOW Zhou Zishu saves Wen Kexing at the end of Ep 36, and they need to head into icy mountain cave for a WHILE but not forever. They head back down to Four Seasons Manor once Wen Kexing recovers.

Basically SHL ver. WenZhou, but with TYK ending (where WenZhou fight in the icy mountains for a bit after Wu Xi cures him and then head back down into the world of the living). No immortal lifespan, but hey, they get the rest of their normal lives together! So yeah, they can still eat normally, no snow and ice diet please.

Word Count: 4,500+ 

✨✨ Link on AO3 ✨✨

******

They visit Ah Xiang and Cao Weining’s graves once Wen Kexing’s year-long recovery in the frigid cold of the mountains is complete.

Zhou Zishu says that it is for Lao Wen’s recuperation, but he suspects Wen Kexing, the heartless bastard, knows that he has taken this year too, to finally stop hurting, to stop going through the bone-deep, heart-wrenching terror at the prospect of losing him.

Opening his eyes in the armoury a year ago, his five senses were returned to him, but at what price? Feeling Lao Wen’s cold hands against his, his stark, blinding white hair a horrifying contrast against his beautiful face, and the man almost leaving him.

Leaving him, once again.

Horror turned into anger, the words stuck in his throat, his chest so tight and heart slamming against the bones caging it, Zhou Zishu had regained all that he had lost-

-and then lost the most important thing, person, to him.

Someone he values above his own life, who had lied to him, who had so stupidly, stupidly gave himself up for him.

Zhou Zishu does not want to remember how he survived that day, how he spent minutes, hours, and days after, making sure Lao Wen continued to hang on to his very last breath.

In the past year, the cold he was constantly plagued with had nothing to do with the wintry landscape.

He knows he is pushing it a little — his eyes have rarely left Wen Kexing since they were moved to the mountains at Wu Xi and Senior Ye’s suggestions. Initially, Lao Wen slept and Zhou Zishu had no idea if he would ever wake up.

Before he would even open his eyes, the panic typically set in just like that, gripping him by the throat the moment he woke. Zhou Zishu would have to reach out for Lao Wen across him on the bed, the fear receding only when he heard and felt Lao Wen’s breaths under his fingertips.

For a long time, Zhou Zishu thought that he would be with Lao Wen in this state for the rest of his life. It was not all bad — as long as Lao Wen was alive, who cared if he spent the rest of his years guarding a sleeping Wen Kexing?

Who’s the lazy one now, Lao Wen, he thought plenty of times in the months after, his hands caressing at Wen Kexing’s cheek bones and pale face, which was of the same colour as his white hair.

Fortunately, fortunately… he managed to keep the person he wanted in the end.

They have been so focused on recuperating, stuck in the mountains and in that isolated environment, it was easy to distance themselves from everything that had and was happening outside.

Even though Wen Kexing did not mention a thing, Zhou Zishu knows that he spends some nights awake, looking out into a sky full of stars, quiet and pensive. He knows it, because he does the same.

For Jiu Xiao, for Han Ying, for Qing Luan.

For a young woman who called him Zishu-ge and Sickly Ghost, who threatened to fight him if he left Wen Kexing all alone. A beautiful young woman who should have gotten her happy ending on that tragic afternoon.

For a young man, who had a smile that could light up even the darkest of corners in a place like the Ghost Valley, who would have protected his to-be wife with everything he had.

The pain and grief that comes with losing Ah Xiang and Cao Weining is no easier to bear a year on.

===

Wen Kexing recalls the way she looked that day, all beautiful in her green and red bridal robes, finally able to live a life basking under the sunshine without anything holding her back. That was what he always wanted for her.

What a huge mistake that wedding was.

His whole life, aside from Ah Xu, has been a cycle of repeated mistakes, over and over again. If he had just put his foot down and insisted on not letting Mo Huaiyi in, if he had not just walked away in anger and instead stayed there, they would have stopped Xiao Cao’s death, and Ah Xiang’s after.

Why had he walked off? How did beautiful Ah Xiang, an Ah Xiang he was ready to give away, end up taking her last breath in his arms?

A sting on his right ear pulls him violently out of his depressed reverie, and he yells, “Ow- Ow, ow, ow, Ah Xu!”

“Don’t think that I don’t know what you’re thinking,” Zhou Zishu says, pulling Wen Kexing’s face close to him by the ear. “There is no point dwelling in the past. Life and death… when the time comes, no one can escape from it.”

Wen Kexing’s eyes sober a little, bitterness flashing across his face. Remnants of his hatred and resentment from more than a year ago, before he met Ah Xu.

“If I had just kept her with me-“

“We all make our choices,” Zhou Zishu says, his voice gentling as he lets Wen Kexing go, but the man does not move away.

“If she had to choose again, she would probably have chosen the same.”

In the cold, their hands find their way to each other, clasping warmly under their thick sleeves, the rims lined with fur.

They stare at the graves for a little longer. And while Wen Kexing has never believed in some higher power up there or the heavens-

-this time, with every ounce of his being, he prays and wishes that Ah Xiang and that pig will find their ways back to each other in the next life, no matter what.

Zhou Zishu’s hand squeezes around his, and Wen Kexing turns to see his Ah Xu’s warm smile and gaze.

“Shall we go home?”

Home. The place where they can live out the rest of their natural lives together.

“Let’s go home,” Wen Kexing agrees.

===

“Ah Xu, that is not the way you-“

Hearing Wen Kexing nag for the thousandth time, Zhou Zishu has finally had enough. Slamming the broad vegetable knife onto the wooden chopping board loudly, he turns and looks at the man next to him.

“I’m not the one who begged me to do this,” Zhou Zishu says, turning to walk away, “You make dinner. I told you it was a waste of time-“

Before he can finish his sentence, warmth engulfs his back, and something sharp snuggles into his shoulder bone. A familiar scent — jasmine, from the incense that Wen Kexing likes to use — wraps around him, hands trapping him in between the counter and the limpet attached to him.

Wen Kexing’s palms close over his hands, then guides them to pick up the knife again. Zhou Zishu stiffens, but does not move away. He lets Wen Kexing curl his own fingers properly over the cabbage, and chop at it neatly, over and over.

They have not yet spoken about this between them, despite laying in the same bed right next to each other night after night. The cave was hardly a luxurious abode and to save effort and space, Zhou Zishu fell asleep next to a comatose Wen Kexing for several months, wanting to ascertain that he was alive and breathing at any given moment.

After Wen Kexing woke, Zhou Zishu continued to sleep next to him, and Lao Wen never once brought it up in conversation.

Coming back to Four Seasons Manor, Wen Kexing naturally turned up in his room instead of the one he was staying at before, already asleep when Zhou Zishu returned to turn in.

This man is his soulmate, the person he would give everything up for no matter what it was. His lost shidi, but even before that, this man was someone who was willing to do everything he could for him. Who cared for him like no one else ever would again.

Beyond that? Zhou Zishu knows of his feelings, and is rather certain of Wen Kexing’s. He supposes that after pledging to save each other’s lives at the expense of their own repeatedly, some things just do not have to be articulated.

Zhou Zishu leans into the hold, relaxing entirely.

At this, it is Wen Kexing’s turn to be stunned at the reciprocation where he was expecting none before, but the man recovers quickly. He snuggles in even closer, the side of his face pressed right up against Zhou Zishu’s. 

His Ah Xu remains still, as if unbothered, and Wen Kexing decides to try his luck.

“Ah Xu,” he angles his head slightly, his mouth brushing lightly over Zhou Zishu’s cheek as he murmurs straight into his ear.

Ah, there it is. Zhou Zishu freezes against him, now making to move his ear out of Wen Kexing’s reach.

“What?”

Wen Kexing smiles, amused and so, so fond.

His voice still low and sultry, he continues, “I think you’re right, you should let me cook instead. You’re murdering the cabbage.”

Zhou Zishu pauses for a good two seconds before turning to glare at Wen Kexing. Wen Kexing recognizes that look, and the warmth on Zhou Zishu’s back vanishes instantly just as he starts waving the knife at him.

“Wen Kexing, don’t you think you’re being ridiculous and childish-“

Laughter fills the kitchen, a sound that is incredibly melodious, immediately soothing all the uneasiness Zhou Zishu feels.

Outside, all twenty disciples try not to peek and look at their shifu and shishu being strange again. One of the younger ones, Xiao Man, cannot help but angle his head in the direction of the kitchen, and then says, “Da-shixiong, shifu is going after shishu with a knife! Is he going to be okay?”

Zhang Chengling sighs inwardly, then smiles and pats the boy on the head.

“That’s shifu’s way of showing how much he cares about shishu.”

Back in the kitchen, having heard that tiny quip from their youngest disciple, Wen Kexing finally stops in his tracks, turning around mid-escape to grab Zhou Zishu around the waist with a hand, and the other going to the hand that is holding onto the knife and stopping his Ah Xu from possibly murdering him.

He sets the knife aside, but his other hand does not move.

“What are you doing,” grumbles Zhou Zishu, looking away, his expression a little stern, as if telling Wen Kexing not to be such a nuisance.

This close, however, Wen Kexing can certainly see the light flush on Ah Xu’s cheekbones. 

If Wen Kexing had to rank all the beautiful bones that Ah Xu has, it would probably be scapulas first, followed by his cheekbones.

Wen Kexing’s eyes dip a little lower.

He thinks collarbones may rank third.

“Ah Xu.”

“What?” sighs Zhou Zishu. “Let me go, the disciples need to finish the last set of practice-“

He is cut off when Wen Kexing swoops downwards, and catches his lips in his.

Zhou Zishu’s eyes go wide, but before he can do anything like move away and out of Wen Kexing’s firm hold, the man circles his waist with both arms, effectively trapping him and bringing him closer.

Wen Kexing’s body temperature tends to run on the colder side these days, a side effect of him having been brought back from the brink of death.

Right now, however, Zhou Zishu can feel nothing else but the scalding heat. His hands move up, intending to push Wen Kexing away, but they end up clutching tight around the man’s broad shoulders.

He does not stop the kiss, letting Wen Kexing’s lips roam as they like.

Outside, an unfortunate Chengling who sees this finds his eyes going wide.

“Erm,” he clears his throat quite loudly, gaining all the disciples’ attention. “Let’s head outside to finish our practice.”

He ushers everyone out, while wondering how the hell he hadn’t seen this coming.

Everything makes so much sense now.

===

Four Seasons Manor grows, and Zhang Chengling along with Bi Xingming end up taking over some classes and teaching of their own.

Wen Kexing does not want to admit it, but it seems that when he asked Ah Xu if he was a servant here, the man actually meant it. His little Chengling, who is not so little anymore, still comes to him to ask for tips or begs him to give some pointers to the other disciples, but most of the time, Wen Kexing is cooking.

He makes breakfast, is involved in lunch, and definitely ends up cooking a feast every dinner. Thankfully, Bi Xingming is unlike his da-shixiong and shifu as he actually has some kitchen sense, but Wen Kexing has truly been demoted to servant in this manor.

A servant that ends up in his master’s bed every night, Wen Kexing thinks then, and feels better about it immediately.

“Shishu, let me help you bring these out,” Bi Xingming says, stepping into the kitchen just as he’s done with the last dish.

“Mnn,” Wen Kexing hums in assent without looking up from his soup, tasting it one last time.

At the very least, these days, Zhou Zishu is able to actually, actually taste the food he lovingly cooks.

“Perfect,” he nods. “Is your shifu not up yet? It’s almost lunch time.”

“Ah…” Bi Xingming blinks, “You said not to disturb him until he wakes up, and he hasn’t left the room since morning.”

Wen Kexing frowns slightly. Sure, he worked Ah Xu over thoroughly last night, but not to the extent that he would need to sleep in for this long. Worry niggling at him, he gets Bi Xingming to start lunch with the other disciples first without waiting for them, and heads in the direction of their room.

The last time Zhou Zishu slept in so late, it was the night he confessed his past to Wen Kexing, of how he caused the deaths of everyone in Four Seasons Manor. He was deathly ill then and emotionally wrung out — things that Wen Kexing loathes to see on Zhou Zishu.

“Ah Xu?” Wen Kexing calls, sliding the door open gently.

The lump under the covers is the same as when he left it this morning. Wen Kexing takes quick strides and goes over, sitting down on the bed next to Ah Xu.

“Ah Xu?” he calls again, his voice soft as he reaches out for Zhou Zishu’s face.

His lips are pale, eyebrows furrowed and perspiring at the forehead.

“Ah Xu, are you ill? What’s wrong?”

Zhou Zishu’s skin is of normal temperature, much to Wen Kexing’s relief. His brain runs through a a million scenarios, none of them good and just as he’s about to yell for Chengling, something clicks in his head.

He does yell for their Chengling in the end, but for a hot bath instead with a pack of herbs and medicine from the stash Wu Xi gave them before he headed back home with Jing Beiyuan.

“Is shifu okay?” he asks, worried.

“He will be,” Wen Kexing says, lifting Zhou Zishu out from under the covers and heading for the bath. “Don’t worry, I’ll watch him. You continue training with the other disciples, otherwise when Ah Xu wakes up he’s going to scold all of you again.”

As Zhou Zishu soaks in the steaming medicinal bath, Wen Kexing sits right next to him, pillowing his head on his arms, which are sitting on the rim of the wooden tub and stares at him.

A few years have passed since the days when Wen Kexing despaired at Zhou Zishu dying in a short few years and the peace they have now makes it easy to not think about the past. He forgets sometimes that despite being healed, despite him giving his life force to Ah Xu, the man’s body has been to hell and back with the nails.

And forcing them out of his body forcefully while he mistakenly believed that Wen Kexing was dead, wanting to take revenge for him-

For the rest of their time together, Wen Kexing knows he will forever be guilt-ridden at this. If only he had just told Ah Xu, if only he didn’t make another stupid decision, there would have been no need for the armoury. No need for self-sacrificial plays, no need for lost time.

That Zhou Zishu would love him still and be with him, that is nothing short of a miracle.

On days like these, when the weather turns just the slightest bit wet and cold, his body starts to hurt, especially the points where he kept the nails in. All seven of them, the stupid man.

Wen Kexing inches forward and presses a kiss to the man’s temple.

For this life and every life after this one, Wen Kexing swears he will always be good to Zhou Zishu.

===

He loves and hates Wen Kexing’s hair, even after several years have passed. They are nearing the ten-year mark since leaving the mountains, and Zhou Zishu has slept next to this man every single day after, but whenever Wen Kexing shows up, Zhou Zishu has to admit that his breath is always taken away.

Wen Kexing looks ethereally gorgeous with those white strands, his features standing out even more clearly, not that Zhou Zishu would ever tell him that lest it goes to his head. However, it is a reminder that his silly, stupid shidi and now husband would dare to sacrifice his own life for his without telling him.

It is a constant reminder that he lost him, even if momentarily.

“Ah Xu, why are you are staring at me like that? You’re going to make me shy. Did you miss me? I was only gone for two days,” Wen Kexing says unabashedly during dinner.

At once, coughs and chokes go around the table, and the clanking of dropped chopsticks on the table echo through the dining hall.

Zhou Zishu takes a deep breath to compose himself and resists the urge to fight with the man over dinner. It would be a waste of food, not to mention a futile argument seeing that Wen Kexing has not changed at all since the first time they met. As long as he does not break out into poetry-

“Ah Xu, I missed you too. It is so fortunate that your heart is akin to mine-“

At that, everyone immediately stands from the table and excuses themselves, stumbling over one another as they parrot that they are full and do not want to have anymore.

It is an open secret that they are together — not because they are hiding it, but simply because they find no need to verbalize what they are to others — and if it was another couple that was stuck in this situation, he would possibly find it amusing, but Wen Kexing is incorrigible and has been for years. 

Zhou Zishu finds that while he loves the man and is utterly devoted to him, is willing to die for him, at times like these maybe they should have both just stayed dead.

“Wen Kexing, have you had enough?”

He reaches out, intending to pinch at Wen Kexing as a lesson, but the man catches his hand within his deft fingers and brings it upwards so his hand is cupping one side of his face. Wen Kexing turns his head a little to press his lips to the open palm, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

“I missed you,” Wen Kexing repeats. “It’s strange how it has only been two days, but I miss you like I’ve never missed anything else before.”

The impending reprimand dies on his lips.

Fine, just this once.

Zhou Zishu sighs and pinches at Wen Kexing’s cheek instead.

“Ow, ow! Ah Xu, Ah Xu, this face is a work of the heavens, how can you trample on it like this?!”

Zhou Zishu’s eyes are once again drawn to Wen Kexing’s white locks, and he unconsciously reaches out.

As if knowing what Zhou Zishu is thinking about, Wen Kexing grabs for the hand again, interlacing their fingers together.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before I faked my death, and then not telling you at the end, before I….” Wen Kexing says, swallowing with difficulty. “Ah Xu, if I could change it, I would. But at the end, if I was given the same choice, I would have chosen the same.”

It hurts to think about that morning, seeing Wen Kexing’s hair all white and almost lifeless, his hands dropping from his.

“I know,” Zhou Zishu breathes, hiding his face in Wen Kexing’s shoulder. “I know.”

===

Zhou Zishu hears of the supposed ambush on Four Seasons Manor while he  has half a day’s journey left before he gets home.

The unrest in jianghu truly never ends; their fight with the Scorpions, with Tian Chuang, with Prince Jin and Zhao Jing was rewarded with peace for a few years, but people never say contented for long. Old sects are wiped out and new ones emerge. Most of them know not to mess with Four Seasons Manor as his and Wen Kexing’s reputations indeed precede themselves, but it is unavoidable, perhaps, for some newer and ambitious ones to mistakenly think they can take both of them on.

Well, they must have made sure Zhou Zishu was not in the manor before striking, as if Wen Kexing could not take all of them on himself.

He arrives in the nick of time in the heat of battle, although a quick glance shows that Four Seasons Manor is still holding up pretty well, with Zhang Chengling and Bi Xingming leading the rest of the disciples.

And there he is, Wen Kexing, all regal in his red embroidered robes, and his white hair pinned up neatly. Every movement from his sharp and deadly fan strikes true. His eyebrows are furrowed slightly, his eyes revealing a thirst for blood that Zhou Zishu hasn’t seen in a while.

He shivers at the want that hits him, even though it is not the time and place for it.

Zhou Zishu lands opportunely behind Wen Kexing and parries a blow that was coming straight for Wen Kexing back.

The both of them exchange a glance, and wordlessly, delve right back into the fight.

When the dust settles a few hours later, Zhou Zishu makes sure injured disciples are looked at while others clean up the mess. His attention finally freed up so he can focus solely on Wen Kexing, Zhou Zishu turns, only to see his husband a distance away from him, supporting himself against a wall.

He recognizes the signs of Wen Kexing’s brain-splitting headaches immediately, and rushes over.

“Lao Wen!”

“Shishu!”

Zhou Zishu catches Wen Kexing just as he collapses, his legs giving out under him. His fingers immediately search for Wen Kexing’s pulse.

This is an all-too familiar scene, but Zhou Zishu cannot remember when this last happened. His body growing cold at the implications, all the fears are now suddenly dredged up from the trenches of trauma sustained at a point in time long ago.

“Go get Physician Yao,” Zhou Zishu snaps at whichever disciple is standing closest to them, before picking Wen Kexing up.

Zhang Chengling turns up in their room before the physician does, and whatever fear he is experiencing right now abates slightly.

Before the manor started to grow, there was only the three of them. If anyone understands what he is feeling right now, it would be Chengling.

“Shifu…” he says, trailing off as he kneels down next to the bed and looks at Wen Kexing. “Shishu hasn’t had this in years, what happened?”

“Maybe… I don’t know,” Zhou Zishu exhales heavily. “He could be just.. too tired.”

They watch over him until the physician arrives. Zhou Zishu refuses to be chased out, and the tightness in his chest only disappears once she rolls her eyes at him after testing Wen Kexing’s pulse.

“The both of you are not young anymore,” Physician Yao almost scoffs. “And the injuries and illnesses that the both of you share combined can fill up a list a mile long. He hasn’t exerted himself like this in a long while, suddenly letting it all out in a fight like that, of course there are bound to be side effects. Stop looking at him as if he’s about to die.”

Zhou Zishu is about to thank her, when a weak rasp comes from the bed, “… been there, done that.”

Relief floods him at the sound of Wen Kexing’s voice, and immediately after, anger burns hot through him as the man’s words sink in, “Wen Kexing!”

Physician Yao retreats, knowing by now not to give instructions to them both when they get like this. Instead, speaking to any of their disciples would be much more reliable.

===

Later, after all has quietened down for certain, the stench of blood fading somewhat, Wen Kexing blinks languidly, not wanting to move at all, or do anything.

If he was to die in this position right now, he would have zero complaints.

Zhou Zishu pats at the back of his head gently as Wen Kexing lies almost half on him, his ear pressed over Zhou Zishu’s heart, comforted by the strong beat. Years later, the both of them approaching the big five-o, and Wen Kexing is still like a child sometimes.

Well, he’s making up for lost time.

He is greedy for more years with Ah Xu, in this life and every single life after. A hundred, a thousand years and more. Every little bit, he wants to spend with Ah Xu.

“Ah Xu,” he murmurs, and feels the vibration of the man’s response through his chest, “Before, I could not have what I wanted. I could not play when I wanted to, there was no one to teach me martial arts when I wanted to learn and the things I wanted I could not afford.”

“The person I wanted to keep, I was too late.”

This conversation seems so far away now, but is as clear to the both of them as if it happened just yesterday. That rainy, storming night.

A night of despair and hopelessness.

Zhou Zishu huffs in amusement.

“And now?” he asks.

Wen Kexing looks up, and cheekily responds, “Well, the martial arts part aside, Ah Xu, you pay for everything now, so I can afford everything! And in terms of play… you would know best how well I play now with-“

He’s cut off with a warning look from Zhou Zishu, although the man does not attempt to jostle him, still worried about his earlier headache and injuries sustained from the fight.

Wen Kexing loves this man, to the depths of hell and back.

“And… the person I want to keep, is right here with me.”

Zhou Zishu’s answering smile lights up every fibre of being.

They have forever to look forward to.

***

[sunsetcurvetaintedhotdog]

Flash From The Past ✩

Request: I have a request and I was asking if you cans do a ghost!Luke Patterson x alive!reader but she is older. Like in the 90s they were but then he died and she got older. But Julie had went through his journal or stuff and found a picture of them and he wrote a song like the Scene when he and Julie went to his parents house but the reader. I’m really bad at explaining things I just wanted to request an angst story please :) <3 Like a little of they’re romantic relationship and then show the aftermath of after he died and Julie kind a like confronts her with Luke like ep 8 <3

Warning: Angst, probably some grammar errors.

Word Count: 1,401

Song Used: “Somebody To You” By The Vamps

“Luke be careful your gonna hit the car in front!” I scolded him as were were entering the drive in movie parking lot. He dismissed me with a sway of his hand. “I’m an excellent driver love, no need to worry” He smiled at me before making an abrupt stop.

“LUKE!” I yelled at him. He just cheekily smiled at me and shrugged. “That’s his fault for going so slow then stopping not mine” I rolled my eyes. “Nothing ever your fault” I said. He looked at me after he finished parking. “You know it baby, I’m an angel” “Yea, yea, keep thinking that” I leaned forward and pecked his lips.

I stretched myself to the back seat to get the food and blankets we had brought and opened my door to get out of his truck. He also got out and slid the trunks small door down so we had space to lay down. We put the blankets and pillow where we wanted them and cuddled up to watch the movie.

After the movie was done I had my head on Luke’s shoulder, he rested his on top of mine. “I love you” I froze. That’s the first time he’s ever said that, I haven’t even said it yet. My eyes started to water and I lifted my head up to look at his eyes. “Yea?” I whispered. “Yea. I’m completely in love with you” he smiled at me. I leaned forward and kissed him like never before. The kiss lasted a few seconds before I pulled away. “I’m in love with you too” “Yea?” He whispered. “Yea.” I giggled and kissed him again.

“Shall we try this again?” Julie questioned from her keyboard looking towards the band. “Yes please. But remind us later there’s some Sunset Curve songs to show you.” Luke told Julie while standing up. Julie got intrigued and moved her mic to the side “Oh, show me now.” Luke nodded and went to reach for his song book next to him.

He looked at his notebook strangely. “Home is where my horse is?” He turned around “Reggie stop putting your country songs in my journal.” He side glanced at Reggie while throwing the paper out of his notebook into the guitar case. “That was a gift!” Reggie said offended. Luke rolled his eyes “thanks buddy.” He patted Reggie on the arm.

Luke turned back to Julie handing her his notebook. “I dog-eared the ones I think you would slay”. Julie started going through the pages until she reached a specific page that wasn’t dog- eared but caught her interest. “Somebody to you?” She questioned. Luke quickly got defensive. “That one isn’t dog- eared” he protested reaching for his notebook but Julie pulled it further away. “ “Look at me now I’m falling can’t even talk still stumbling” wow Luke I didn’t know you were such a romantic” she smirked at Luke. “That one is actually about-” Luke cut Alex off. “No one it’s about no one if you go to the next page there is one I think you’d like”. Julie dropped the subject since she saw Luke didn’t like talking about but she was still very interested.

Band practice couldn’t have gone worse Luke wasn’t focused after Julie mentioned the song. Y/N has been stuck in his head causing him to mess up. “Let’s take a break yea I’ll be back in an hour” Julie got up from her keyboard and walked out. “I’m out, gonna go hang with Willie” Alex disappeared. “Ima go see what Ray is up to” Reggie said and disappeared as well. Leaving Luke to entertain himself.

He couldn’t stop thinking about you. Where you married? Did you have kids? Did you move away? What happened after you found out he died? How did you cope with it?

Standing in front of the mirror making sure your outfit looked good you heard the house phone go off. You rushed downstairs and picked up the phone.

“Y/L/N Residence” you heard someone sniffle on the other side. “Y/N their gone” “Who’s gone?” you questioned. “Bobby talk to me! Who’s gone?” Panic started sinking in. “The boys they got food poisoning they’re dead Y/N” the phone fell from your hand and you dropped to your knees. You truly felt like you were dying. Tears where coming out of your eyes. The boys you have grown up with the love of your life was just taken away from you in a matter of hours. You were meant to see them preform tonight they weren’t supposed to go. Not yet. They were too young they had so much to live for.

It’s been two weeks you were invited to their funerals but you haven’t been able to leave your room yet. All you’ve done is cried until you fall asleep and repeat the same cycle everyday. Apart of you is missing and you don’t know if you’ll get through this. You’ve thrown everything that reminds you of them specially Luke in a box and told your mom to throw it away. (She didn’t throw it away) His shirts, guitar picks, hoodies, pictures, everything. You can’t bear it. It hurts a lot. Everything hurts. Your not gonna go to the funerals you can’t just stand there and get condolences from people who never really cared. You can’t pretend your ok.

“Julie you sure this is a good idea?” Luke questioned. They were on your doorstep. Julie had this great plan to give you a letter that she made Luke write for you. If you seemed stable enough she would tell you about her and the band. For now it was just the letter. The closure that you needed that you didn’t get back in 1995. Julie found you through your Instagram account apparently you became a photographer. One of her classmates is your son so he gave Julie the address. “I’m positive....um.. if it’s too much Luke you could go and I’ll tell you how it went.” Luke shook his head “no I’m good” Julie nodded. She reached forward and ringed the doorbell.

You answered the door and Luke’s breath hitched as soon as he saw you. He wanted to step forward and hug you and apologize for what he might have put you through but he can’t. You look almost the same just as beautiful but time has aged you. You and Julie started talking. She explained how she had found this song and a letter written at the bottom of the song page addressed to you. So she decided to bring it over. As you read the song you kept it together no tears. Luke is someone you thought about each day since the moment he passed.

It’s been 8 years since Luke passed away you are now 25 and have been traveling the world. Staying in Loz Feliz only made you sad you started your photograph career and have been traveling here and there. You haven’t meet anyone nearly as good as Luke so your still single. You don’t know if it’s guilt or if your the only one holding yourself back from dating again but you always put it off and say that you don’t have time for that. Will you ever go back to California? You don’t know.

After reading the letter you thanked Julie and she walked away you closed the door and slid down against it finally letting go of the tears you’ve been holding back. Things possibly couldn’t get worse, you thought you’d move on find someone who was just as great as Luke but you didn’t, you married someone you didn’t love and ended up getting a divorce. Having a kid and moving back with your mom in Loz Feliz. You weren’t happy. This letter didn’t make matters better your even sadder now it was like a flash from the past. Knowing that you could have had a future with Luke made your heart ache. He was your person, no one else.

On the other side of the door Luke stood there completely shocked that you didn’t react at all to his letter. Did you move on? Did you even care about him anymore? Was he only now a distant memory? What he didn’t know was that you were crying on the other side.

He disappeared back into the studio thinking about you. Maybe in a different life.

Sorry this request took so long I have been extremely busy because I had to get surgery but I finished it now. Hope you like it :)

@charliegillespiewife

[madeofcc]

1, 2, 13 for the storytelling asks!

Aaaaah Nik ♥ I love you for sending these ask, thanks a lot. I'm going to answer that for Destiny Harbour serie as it's my main project.

1/ what’s the last screenshot you’ve taken for your story?

it's not really for the story itself, I thought about making my new main but still hesitating so I don't know. I still didn't take any DH2 screenshots that haven't been posted on ep 0 but I'm working on it so it might start sooner than I thought !

2/ describe your story in three words or less

Occult inclusive mess :)

13 / from basic planning to a finished post, how long does that take you?

If basic planning is the idea of the story/post well it can take me years as I wrote the entire plan for the entire 5 seasons, I know where I'm going. I like to work on editing after I wrote the main script first. The script isn't super detailled but it is in my mind, it's mostly what you read with the post with just dialogue and few indication about what's going on around. This can take few hours, a day or more, even weeks if I'm uninspired. After that I have to make the lots and sims prepared (I usually like to prepare the lookbooks in advance as I know what scenes are coming) which usually takes a week or two depending on my computer and motivation and then I start the editing process with the pose using in game that takes around 2/3 hours each evening when I start. I try to take all the screenshots I need for a full chapter which is around 30 screen, I take a bit more so I can choose which angle looks better. Then there's the editing process that doesn't take me a lot of time as I don't edit my stories heavily, but I want to try new things so it might take me more time this time ^^ So let's say that it usually takes me around 2 months with a 2/3h daily session to usually make DH. It takes more time if you include the posting time as well though.

Honestly, I feel like this has become like a second job as I'm working on it at least an hour or two every day I think. I took a weekend off last weekend and felt guilty a bit because I didn't work on my story but we all need to rest a little so I try not to stress myself too much over it either, it's not like I'm making millions with it and I know that my readers are patient enough and have plenty of awesome stories to read around here (yours is still in my top 3, even top 1 with the BK legacy) so I'm confident for what's to come.

Thanks again @xldkx for these asks ♥ I wonder how many time it takes you for Papercuts now !

[creativeashproductions]

What If...? II // Alive!Luke Patterson

Summary: After playing The Orpheum things were looking up, Sunset Curve bought the house that owned the studio the band used. Alex lived in a safe environment will only love, Reggie didn’t feel like a ghost in his house and Luke was no longer sleeping on a couch. Life is good until it isn’t.

Warnings: Swearing, accident, injuries, angst, car accident (this was written before If I Stay)

Words: 2.7k

Requested: By @beautifulblogsblog . There will be more parts, total coincidence that it has a car accident. Also appears when I try solely fluff it turns into painful angst. My apologies, the next part will be better but also prepare for it too.

A/N: Sorry for disappearing. I have Lost Time Part 2 finished, If I Stay Part 2 is also finished but I really want to put a new part out for What If...? so here you go!

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX/ASK PLEASE!

Masterlist

Hollywood, 1996

A hot cup of your morning brew cradled in your hand you stared out the window to the garage where Sunset Curve had practiced for years. A year had passed since The Orpheum; the band got signed to a label with an EP being dropped. The moment money came to the band Luke, Alex and Reggie had pooled money to buy the house the garage belonged to. You just happened to be over a lot still being seventeen.

“Hey,” Luke spoke, wrapping his arms around your waist, pressing his body tight against yours. His chin resting on your shoulder as his hand swiped the mug to take a swig from it.

“Hey!”

“Don’t sound so offended.” Luke chuckled, “I’ve tasted other things that belong to you.”

“Disgusting.” Alex gagged walking by the couple with distaste written clearly all over his face. He adored you two together, but he didn’t like the activities that you frequently did behind closed doors.

“Yeah, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t play wrestle in the middle of the night.” Reggie scoffed heading up the stairs to his room while Alex blinked after him.

“I- and he wonders why he’s still single.” Alex sighed, heading to the living room to watch a film whereas Bobby was grabbing a quick drink before leaving. The only member of the band that didn’t live in the house but then again, he didn’t have issues with his parents; well if he did, he never told anyone else.

A snicker fell from your lips as a deep chuckled vibrated through the body courtesy of Luke’s close quarters with you. His arms tightened when you shifted in his arms, glancing at his watch before you pushed the mug back into his hand.

“Gotta go.” You sighed, pressing a kiss to Luke’s cheek and freeing yourself from his warm embrace to nab the bag from the chair. Luke released a whine detesting the emptiness in his arms, “As much as I would have to stay and cuddle all day, I have plans.”

Luke released a long sigh with a nod glancing as Bobby’s gaze fixated your form heading for the front door. He snapped out of it when Luke hit his chest.

“C’mon man! That’s my girl.” Luke scoffed, making his way for the stairs, “Go, home, dude.”

Bobby did as he was told glancing up at the ceiling where each boy would be in their bedrooms until practice later that night. Bobby couldn’t help that he found you attractive, but he would never step over the line with his bandmate. You were already gone when Bobby got outside and the harsh glare on the back of his head from Luke.

Lance had picked up his daughter itching to play you the bones of the new song he had recorded with the band. It was by far his favourite one given that it was centered on you growing up which he both hated and loved. He had missed more of your life than he cared to admit so it is the last year before you would leave the house, he had taken a break from touring.

“It’s not fully finished. The working title is Bittersweet.” Your father spoke glancing over, “It’s slower than our usual song, but I have ideas.”

“What was the inspiration?” You questioned leaning your head back to glance over at him. A small smile tugged at the rock star in the driver’s seat.

“Almost twenty-years ago a struggling musician snuck into a concert he couldn’t afford. A struck of luck had a pretty ballet dancer attending too. It was an odd love story, and that musician had a double miracle. Eighteen years ago, he met the second love of his life.” Lance had a way with words that entranced anyone, whether it be musically or not.

“That musician was you.” You took a guess that ended up being right when Lance nodded, “Dad.”

“I was hoping you would harmonize on it with me? My sound guy is incorporating your voice as a baby, and in the ending, I want you to say something.”

A bright smile turned the corners of your mouth up while silent tears rolled down your cheeks at the idea he had. At that moment, you also decided to keep the collaboration and song a secret from your boyfriend and friends.

“I’d love to.” You spoke swiftly hugging his arm before he was shoving you back to your seat and his arm slung in front of you.

A blindly light made its presence known for a second before a loud crack shattered around you and your body was slammed the dash—a scream coming from your father before everything went quiet. You prone form slumped onto the crushed door unaware of the cries taking place outside the car.

Lance moaned fluttering his eyelids as consciousness brought him into the world again. His brain struggling to make sense of why the car was on its side. It connected when his first thought was his daughter.

“Sweetheart.” Lance’s tongue caught the copper taste in his mouth, but it was the petrifying taste fear that lingered as he received no response.

Straining his neck, he could see now you were laying against the crushed passenger door of the car; the car on its side with Lance strapped to the seat. A sharp cry released as he caught the blood coating the profile of his little girl. A haunting sound of Bittersweet filled the car among Lance’s sobs.

In the home of Sunset Curve, it was notoriously known that the only channel on TV was MTV, never the news. As usual, the guys were fighting over what kind of pizzas, they should order unaware of the countless news reports on a car crash. It wouldn’t be under hours later that they found out.

“Guys!” Alex’s head snapped up as Bobby struggled to breathe in the entrance of the kitchen, leaving the front door wide open.

“Mushrooms Bobby?” Reggie inquired oblivious to the tension radiating off the rhythm guitarist. Bobby had enough sweat it was like they had just finished a fifteen song setlist under boiling lights.

“Have you guys seen MTV?” Bobby demanded gaining the attention of his three bandmates as looking lost at the uncharacteristic anxious boy.

“Is our song playing?” Luke spoke, leaning over the island with a grin. His messy hair almost covering his hazel eyes.

Bobby didn’t reply other than to rush over to the tv to get to MTV. Instead of music blasting the house, a somber person was sitting on a chair.

“The musical world is struggling as the world waits for news on musician Lancaster Jameson following a car accident early this afternoon. Little news has been released on the circumstances leading to the crash on the occupants with both vehicles.” The man spoke sitting on a stool behind a makeshift desk.

Luke’s heart dropped at the words that rocked him to the core. His body working on autopilot was already moving to the door, he needed to be there for you. You must be terrified for your father. Luke had to be there for you. He just didn’t know you were in the car as well.

“An emergency response official revealed, however, that as they used the jaws of life, a song was still playing. A song very unlike anything Lancaster’s band has released before.”

A taxi, courtesy of Alex, pulled up beside the lead singer with his friend helping him into the backseat before joining him as well. Little did they know about the scene at the hospital.

Your mother, Nancy, sat silently ripping apart a Kleenex a nurse had graciously given the woman as she waited with bated breath. Her pallor pale and gaunt under the harsh hospital lights where she waited to hear the news for her family. Her tears began to fall as Luke, and his bandmate appeared in the ER.

“Mrs. Y/L/N.” Alex spoke, heading straight for the woman pushing the fears and anxious feelings to be dealt with at another time.

The woman couldn’t look Luke in the eye, knowing that the media had been issued legal documents to ensure you were kept out of the news. The lawyers had swiftly jumped on that part of the accident while your mother worried herself with the what-ifs swirling in her head.

“Luke.” She breathed, leaning to pull the teenager into a hug, “I’m sorry I couldn’t call.”

“I understand. You need to focus on Lance.” Luke supplied, stepping back to look around the room for you. His brows furrowed at the lack of evidence you were there, “Where’s Y/N?”

Nancy’s eyes watered further at the mention of her daughter still in surgery looking over to Alex, who collapsed into the chair understanding the look. Luke didn’t see it.

“I suppose the lawyers did an excellent job.” Nancy sighed, digging deep inside herself to lead the teenage boy to the chairs be had settled into, “I’m very sorry, Luke. Our lawyers reacted to the accident, but Lance’s name was already released. He wasn’t alone.”

“Y/N-“

“She’s in surgery right now.” Nancy’s voice broke slumping into the chair, returning to shredding the Kleenex in her hand. Alex was stock still in his chair, “I’ve been told she was lucky. There hasn’t been news on Lance yet.”

“Oh my god.” Luke breathed, staring at the scuffed shoes he had had for years by now with a little doodle you had done one night. The world faded as Luke went over a single moment, he had shared with you, and something burned; something he had carried for months now felt heavier than ever before.

Hours went by for Luke, Alex and your mother slowly the ER waiting room grew to have Reggie for support. He was the most serious he had been in his entire life; he had contacted the Patterson family but pleaded they wait for news at home. Reggie knew Luke wouldn’t be able to deal with his unresolved issues with his parents and the grief.

“Mrs. Y/L/N.” A doctor wearing scrubs called outgaining the attention of Nancy who rushed up to the older doctor, “Please follow me.”

Nancy wavered in her steps as the doctor brought the middle-aged woman to a quiet room where the sound of a heart monitor beeped. Nancy was quick to rush over to the body, resting still out from the medication.

“Y/N.” Your mother breathed collapsing into a chair where she grasped your hand tightly. Her eyes took in the superficial cuts on your face and the brace on your wrist.

“She’s miraculously lucky for the severe car accident, she has a minor concussion along with a broken wrist. We had to remove her appendix or spleen, but she’ll be fine. The seat belt, however, snapped upon impact.” The doctor spoke facing the sobbing woman with pity in his eyes, “By the bruise across her chest we can see that your husband protected her, the media calls with ‘being soccer mom’d’ or my daughter does. Had he not done that the injuries would have been too severe to survive or she would have been in a vegetative state for the rest of her life.”

“Lance. Is he okay?”

“We need to talk about that. If you could follow me, we’ll let your daughter rest.”

Sunset Curve came to an early hiatus in their music career as Luke refused to leave your room from the moment he was allowed. When visitor hours were up, you could find him in his car struggling from sneaking into your room, but the warning of charges from the guard kept him in his place. For the first time in his life, Luke had no urge to put pen to paper or strum a single tune on his guitar.

He would stay silent in the chair beside your bed, holding tight to your hand in despair and guilt. He would, of course, visit Lance when your mother came to see you, they traded off not wanting either one to be alone.

A moan from the bed brought the attention of Luke and Alex, who had visited today to convince his best friend to come home for a shower.

“Baby?” Luke lunged closer as your eye fluttered open scanning the room with bleary eyes and sadness, “Hey.”

“Why are you holding my hand?” You questioned glancing at the hand intertwined with yours. Luke’s face dropped stumbling back at the look you cast him.

 “You don’t-“

“I woke up from an accident, and you can’t hug me?” You finished staring at the boy down, unaware the delivery of the question could very well be better than it was. Luke heaved a sigh gently, pulling you into a hug.

“That was cruel. I thought you didn’t remember me.”

“Luke forgetting you is like forgetting what the moon is.” You spoke wincing as you leaned back, “What’s the damage?”

Luke’s eyes glared at the nonchalant behaviour you displayed. At the same time, he was an utter mess from a week of sleeplessness and crippling fear. Alex’s deep sigh as he pushed down on Luke’s shoulders to place him back in the chair.

“The damage is you’ve been unconscious for a week with a minor concussion, a broken wrist, a bruised knee that was recently diagnosed, you are one spleen less, and you won’t have to worry about getting appendicitis. You will be incredibly sore from the bruises as well.” Alex supplied leaning to gently hug your form for even if you were dating his ex you had quickly grown to be a surrogate little sister.

“Oh.” You blinked, turning to stare at the wall, “What about my Dad?”

“He’s fine. He’s been struggling with orderlies every day to escape to check on you.” Luke spoke, “Your mom and I have had to do shifts between rooms during visitation hours. Security wasn’t happy to find me in here after hours.”

“Good.” You nodded leaning back in the bed staring up at the ceiling muttering a reply when Alex murmured, he would head to tell your parents you were awake.

Luke once had romantic plans before the accident, but when he found out about your accident, everything hit him. What-ifs of never living his dreams with you, of the things he might never get to do.

“Your hand better heal fast so that brace can come off.” Luke spoke, keeping his gaze on your face entirely in love with you. Your look of confusion amusing him, “Well how will the ring fit?”

“Ring?” You questioned becoming owl-eyed when Luke pulled out a stunning ring from his pocket, “Oh my god.”

“You tend to change my plans with everything you do. I was going to have this big speech and a romantic dinner, but I can’t wait.” Luke spoke, leaning to wipe away a tear from your eye, “I never want to be that scared again so until I can blow your socks off with a better proposal will you marry me?”

Your hand cupped the smooth cheek of the boy you loved more than words could ever say, “No.”

Luke’s heart broke at the words he never anticipated to hear, “What?”

“I say this because I love you, but I don’t want to go into an engagement with bad blood between you and your parents. You’ve shown them that your dream was worth it, but now you have to reach out. I want only happiness when we get engaged.”

Luke nodded his head, putting the ring back in his pocket, disappointed in the response, but what could he do? You gave a reason, and while definitely annoyed him he couldn’t fault your compassionate nature. For once in your entire relationship, the silence was awkward.

“So…” You trailed off, avoiding looking at Luke, “Have you decided on a tracklist for the album?”

“Huh? Oh, no.” Luke shook his head only to be relieved when your parents came into the room. Nancy was already crying as she collapsed into the chair.

“Oh baby.” Nancy spoke, pressing a kiss to the bruised forehead you currently rocked. Lance scowled as he was rolled closer to the bed by the orderly.

“I’m fine.” You grumbled as your mom scanned every part of you, “Seriously!”

“I almost lost my baby.” Your mom snapped before apologizing at raising her tone, “Let me coddle you.”

You resigned yourself, but there was a sadness inside as Luke shared a goodbye before leaving you alone with your parents. You really wished you hadn’t been wrong in your decision.

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[elitegymnastics]

Q: What is this?

A: It’s a flyer for a virtual fundraiser on June 4th that Elite Gymnastics is playing. You can access the show at quietyear.com

Q: Hasn’t Elite Gymnastics been inactive for like, ten years?

A: Yes. This is the first Elite Gymnastics performance of any kind since November 30th 2012, at the Horn Gallery at Kenyon College in Gambier, Ohio. 

Q: Why did Elite Gymnastics stop playing shows?

A: Elite Gymnastics started out as me (Jaime) and a bunch of my friends agreeing to help me play my songs live back in 2009. I made a lot of weird demos in GarageBand and my friend Dominique Davis from the band Dearling Physique got tired of watching me sit on them. So, he booked me to play at a show he was curating as part of a small local music and arts festival called Clapperclaw. For several months that’s mainly what EG was. At some point the focus shifted to making recordings rather than playing shows, to participate in the emergent culture of new music distributed via MP3 file-sharing. The lineup winnowed to just me and Josh Clancy, who began creating digital EPs that we posted on this Tumblr page as ZIP files full of MP3s accompanied by a PDF of artwork. This is the incarnation of the group that most people are familiar with.

This was before Patreon existed. If Bandcamp was around, we’d never heard of it. Though MP3 file-sharing culture and file transfer sites like MediaFire and MegaUpload allowed anyone to distribute music freely across the world via the internet, it was still pretty difficult to get people to pay you for it. I think it was for this reason that a lot of internet music back then featured a lot of sampling. A lot of artists’ first forays into the world of DAWs and production took the form of mash-ups, bootleg remixes, and DJ mixes. Artists like Animal Collective, MIA, Kanye West, and Daft Punk for whom sampling was a pillar of their creative process were extremely influential. Elite Gymnastics was no exception - the first song of ours to gain traction online was “Is This On Me?” which made no attempt to hide the fact that it heavily sampled Faye Wong’s “Eyes On Me.” The fact that it was so difficult to make money off MP3s pushed people to make different creative decisions than they would have otherwise. It was sort of a free-for-all.

Eventually, all of this started to change. The major labels started getting a lot more aggressive about trying to destroy MP3 file-sharing culture. Platforms like MegaUpload were raided and taken offline. The replacements that sprung up to replace them were increasingly infested with ads and malware. Corporate platforms like YouTube and SoundCloud adopted Content ID filters to prevent the proliferation of copyrighted music there. Blogs and private torrent trackers being taken down meant thousands of hours of labor were wiped out in an instant. Some of the best archives of the history of recorded music ever created were destroyed without hesitation. Even the most devoted participants lost the will to keep repairing and re-making the stuff that cops and record companies kept obliterating.

Josh and I both dreamed of being able to make a living as musicians. We still do. Back then, we were willing to accept a lot of changes in order to make that possible, which seemed necessary. A lot of the stuff that we were great at just didn’t make any money. Once, we were asked to do a remix of a song called “Sa Sa Samoa” by the band Korallreven. I did the remix by myself, which was normal for us, and Josh was so inspired by it that he spent a week working non-stop to create a video for it. People loved it - the day the video dropped, Pitchfork designated the song as a “Best New Track” and New York Magazine wrote about it in their “Approval Matrix.” The video led to a ton of exposure, but from a financial perspective, it just did not make sense to put that much effort into promoting a remix of someone else’s song. The stuff we were personally excited by just seemed to have less and less to do with what actually makes money.

A lot of internet bands during this era began to palpably shapeshift in an effort to succeed in music as a career. Artists who’d first attracted notice for sample-based bangers they made on a laptop started posing with vintage hardware in their press photos and trading in their laptops for live bands and recording studios. It became harder to distribute DJ mixes or mash-ups that contained copyrighted music in them. Influential bloggers either closed up shop or were absorbed into the traditional music industry in some way. Feeds that once touted bizarre songs by laptop-toting weirdos with no industry connections started to become populated mostly by artists with labels and publicists. The bottom rungs of festival lineups started to consist mostly of new major label signings who have lots of money to spend on stage production but not much in the way of grassroots fan enthusiasm or media buzz. 

Internet music and what people tend to refer to as “indie music” split off into two separate streams. Today, there’s a pretty intense firewall between internet culture and whatever you want to call the culture of vinyl records, mid-sized indie labels with publicists, and positive reviews from the few remaining websites that still pay people to write about music. I call it “publicist indie,” “lifestyle techno,” or “prestige electronica” depending on whether or not the music features guitars and/or vocals. The recent online kerfuffle about NFTs really emphasized this split. The worlds of digital illustration and game development campaigned aggressively against mass adoption of cryptocurrency - if you saw any Medium posts explaining crypto’s environmental issues, chances are they were written by someone from those fields. Every new announcement by an artist that they had minted an NFT was met with a swift and vocal backlash from fans. Though I’ve never really been much of an Aphex Twin fan, it was still pretty startling to look at the replies under his NFT announcement tweet and see hundreds of furious people announcing that he was now dead to them. That’s an artist who has seemed more or less unimpeachable for most of my life up until this point! All of that seemed to change in an instant.

There is a massive disconnect between the insular world of the industry establishment and the cutting edge of online counterculture. We saw this again a couple of weeks ago with the online response to the crisis in Gaza. We saw passionate advocacy for Palestinians from games journalists and developers much more often than we saw it from musicians. This is a very serious problem for music! I do not believe it is possible to please both sides - that is to say, I do not believe it is possible to be part of internet counterculture and the industry establishment simultaneously. The music industry is too conservative, too compromised, too corrupt. If it weren’t for the ocean of valuable copyrights that labels are sitting on, most of them would be bankrupt within a year. If the industry was forced to live or die based on how they handle what’s happening right now in the present, it would most assuredly die. The only people who don’t realize this are those who are being paid to stay ignorant. 

Josh and I did not know this back then. From where we were standing, it looked like internet culture and established media industries were on track to converge. A career in the arts seemed genuinely, tantalizingly possible, right up until the moment that it no longer did. 

In my case, I had really been struggling up until that point. My life had been this ongoing sequence of evictions and hospitalizations, and it seemed to be getting worse, not better. I donated plasma twice a week to pay for groceries and while I was sitting there with a giant needle stuck in my left arm for an hour I would see my picture in The Fader or my songs being recommended by one of the Kings of Leon on Twitter or whatever. Music seemed like the only thing the world thought I was any good at. It felt like my only chance at a peaceful, happy life was somewhere out there in a world I could only perceive through a laptop screen. 

Gender, for me, was a big factor in all of this. The more invested in the craft of songwriting I became, the harder it was to repress or ignore my gender stuff. At that time I’m not sure I even knew what the word “transgender” meant - I just knew that when I showed up at a venue wearing a skirt, no one would talk to me or look me in the eye, and that reading about people like Anohni or Terre Thaemlitz or on the internet made me feel like if I could get out of Minneapolis maybe I could find a place where people would accept me. The internet was like, a pretty toxic place for someone in my position. When I tried to find people to talk to about what I was feeling, nobody tried to tell me to read Judith Butler or ask me what pronouns I preferred. The internet was just like, overrun with predators who just wanted to fetishize me and exploit me. Music seemed like the only way I’d ever have an actual life as myself. I was desperate for that. I was well and truly desperate.

Between all the big changes that were happening to us individually and the music industry moving farther and farther away of the anarchic free-for-all of MP3 file-sharing culture, the strain on us just got to be too much. We stopped trusting each other. We became the unstoppable force and the immovable object, crashing haphazardly against one another’s resolve in a dazzling display of youthful futility. Our partnership ended, and after finishing out the remaining live shows on the calendar by myself, I retired the name “Elite Gymnastics” and started making music on my own under other names. That was that.

Q: Why is Elite Gymnastics coming back now, then?

A: Over the years, Josh and I eventually started talking again. Though there was a lot we did agree on, and potential future projects were discussed, nothing truly felt right. We haven’t been in the same room since Summer 2012, and we’ve both changed a lot since then. We both have other projects and we’ve both developed other ways of working since we stopped working together. It’s a pretty big commitment to put all of that aside in order to join your fortunes together with someone you haven’t seen in a decade.

Recently, Josh decided to leave Elite Gymnastics. His reasons are his own, and I was very surprised by his decision, but after having had time to adjust, I’m really grateful to him. I had kept these songs at a distance for many years, because it seemed foolish to allow myself to get too attached to songs I didn’t feel like I was allowed to think of as mine, if that makes any sense. The songs felt like casualties of a conflict that I had to bury in the ground and try to forget about. Being able to embrace them again felt like re-growing a severed limb or having a loved one come back to life, almost. Feeling like it was safe to love these songs again made me feel whole in a way I didn’t expect to. I became really excited by the prospect of revisiting them, so that’s what I decided to do.

Q: Does this mean you’re going to put RUIN back on Spotify?

A: No. Taking the record off Spotify was the right thing to do. That record was only ever intended to exist during the era of MP3 piracy. I never envisioned a world where the music industry would be so aggressive about policing the way that copyrighted music is allowed to exist online. If we hadn’t opted to take the record down when we did, someone would inevitably have forced us to. If you want to hear those specific recordings again, you’re going to have to do it the way we originally intended: by downloading MP3 files from the internet. Try SoulSeek.

Q: What’s next for Elite Gymnastics, then?

A: Here’s the situation currently. There is no Elite Gymnastics music available to stream or purchase in an official capacity anywhere on the internet. It wouldn’t really be possible for me to put the old stuff on Spotify or Bandcamp now because of all the samples. Like I said before, it was a different time. Those records were created to thrive on a past version of the internet that no longer exists. They weren’t designed to be compatible with the 2021 internet.

Technically, Elite Gymnastics didn’t ever release a debut album. We had EPs, a compilation, and a remix collection. We didn’t make an album, a record that existed as the distillation of all that experimentation that contained all of the songs that fans of the EPs would want to hear, all in one place. It’s like we did Good Fridays but stopped before we made My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy.

So, I am currently working on the first Elite Gymnastics album. If you were following my stuff as Default Genders, you may have noticed me posting demos on my SoundCloud page from 2015-2018 that were all eventually reworked into the album Main Pop Girl 2019. The album I am making is taking that approach to all the old EG songs, including some unreleased stuff. I’m collaborating with others on some songs and I honestly feel like it has resulted in some of the best and most exciting music I have ever been involved with. It is a drastic reinvention, but iteration and reinvention have always been a big part of what I do. I want to make something that feels like the culmination of everything that came before, and so far, I think I’m succeeding.

Q: When will I be able to hear this new music?

At a virtual fundraiser on June 4th, 2021, where there is a suggested donation of $10. You can access it at quietyear.com

[shadow-assassin-blix]

A Picture is a Poem without Words

Chapter 13

A/N: Canon typical violence. Some spice at the beginning but nothing too detailed. I rewatched ep 2x06 and realized that Marta’s husband is named Diego. For the purpose of this fic, and to create less confusion, I have called him Antony. Dress is number 10 found here.  Gif from @scntacruz 

Pacho tags: @yungkvte @mcrmarvelloki

Everything tag: @mikeisthricedeceased

It had been 3 days since Blix had woken up. She had gone through her antibiotics and was now able to move a bit more freely.

The stitches were going to be removed today, and she couldn’t wait for it. The stitches were itching terribly.

When the doctor finally arrived, she was practically bouncing in her seat. It didn’t take him long to remove the stitches, with a small warning of ‘don’t do anything too strenuous.’

He left a moment later, and Blix spent a few minutes gently stretching. It was about 10am and Pacho had briefly left to go give his men some orders for the day. He came back in as Blix was about to stand up.

Pacho moved over to her, slowly. He stood before her, his hands cupping her face. He leaned down kissing her firmly and passionately.

She kissed him back with as much as enthusiasm. She started to lay back down onto the bed, her hands gripping his silk shirt tightly as she pulled him down. Pacho pressed his body against hers, and one hand moving down her body, while his other buried itself into her hair.

“I believe you mentioned something about spending the day between my legs?” Blix murmured against his lips.

“I did indeed. I plan on doing exactly that. Cleared my schedule and everything,” Pacho joked lightly as he moved down to press kisses to her neck, nipping here and there.

Blix giggled lightly at that, a moan escaping her mouth as he bit a particularly sensitive area.

He paid intense attention to that spot, as his hand slipped under her cotton shorts. His hand slid past her panties, his fingers running up and down her slit.

She moaned lightly at his teasing, her hips jerking up wanting more. They removed their clothes with some urgency, the both of them sliding under the covers.

The two of them spent most of the day either chasing their highs or simply lying next to one another, enjoying each other’s company.

The next day rolled around and the two of them finally untangled themselves from each other. They showered and dressed, before heading downstairs.

Gilberto & Miguel were downstairs waiting for them discussing next steps.

“Ah. Blix, lovely to see you moving about more freely. I hope you are feeling better?” Gilberto greeted her cheerfully.

“Yes, much better. What are our plans?” Blix asked them as they walked into the dining room to have breakfast.

The four of them sat down to eat and talk. As Blix made her plate, Diego appeared next to her, and after quickly kissing her head, he sat down next to her.  Blix smiled softly at him, telling him good morning.

Gilberto began to explain his thoughts to Pacho about next steps, as Blix checked her phone for missed calls. Upon seeing there was nothing there, she placed it on the table and listened to Gilberto.

“… Mrs. Moncada has reached out to Don Berna. I suspect she is attempting to make as many allies as possible to hurt Escobar. We will let her do whatever she pleases. Our priorities will be taking over his production lines and starve him of money,” Gilberto informed them.

“Where do we begin with that?” Blix asked him curiously.

“We’ve already begun. We are taking out his production sites, starting with the ones Mrs. Moncada informed us about to the ones Escobar doesn’t think we know about,” Miguel spoke up.

She nodded her head in understanding, glancing down at her phone when she saw it was going off. She answered it, standing up and strolling into the living room.

“Hey Javi, what’s up?” She greeted.

“We have a new colonel. Martinez. And the ambassador has insisted that DEA have an overseer. Messina. The ambassador is not too happy with any of the agencies currently. I would suspect he will be reaching out to you soon to bitch at you, just so you’re aware,” Javier warned her.

“Good to know.  What’s Martinez like?” She asked him.

“An ass. Extremely by the book. I have never felt more frustrated with Search Bloc. Hell, I’ve never felt more frustrated in general. I… hmm. I have a terrible idea that may bite me in the ass later but… if it means Escobar goes down,” Javier said in an exasperated tone.

“What do you have planned Javi? Please don’t do anything stupid,” Blix begged him softly.

She knew from experience that Javier would have half-assed plans that usually ended up with him being in all sorts of trouble.

“I’m going to reach out to some CIs and go from there. That’s all you need to know. I’m not going to risk your career by telling you too much,” Javier’s voice lowered as he spoke.

“Javi…” Her tone turned admonishing.

“Anyway, when you find yourself back over in Bogota let me know. We can go on that date,” Javier stated somewhat loudly.

“Do not use me as your cover,” Blix growled at him, hearing chatter in the background.

“Yeah, see ya soon sweetie,” He ignored what she said and hung up.

“That motherfu-” She groaned staring down at her phone.

Blix sighed heavily, as she pocketed her phone, and running a hand down her face in frustration.

She returned to the dining room, re-taking her seat. The brothers had continued to talk out their plans with Pacho and she half listened to them. Blix was far too distracted to fully pay attention.

Halfway through one of Gilberto’s explanations his phone rang, and he answered it excitedly.

“Good morning Marta, light of my life. What can I do for you?” Gilberto greeted.

He listened to her for a moment, before passing the phone to Blix.

“She apparently wants to speak to you,” He stated as he held it to her.

Blix took the phone, “Hello Marta. What’s up?”

“Hi. I need help. We moved up the wedding and I am freaking out over what to do. My mothers are driving me nuts and I cannot stand their opinions no more. Please help,” Marta sounded close to tears as she spoke.

“Okay. Tell me where you are and I’ll be there,” Blix said calmly as she stood up again.

“I’m at my father’s favorite home, thank you so much,” Marta vaguely explained, hanging up.

“Uhh. Okay. Gilberto? Which of your 10 mansions do you consider your favorite?” Blix asked him as she placed his phone on the table.

“Navegante will take you. I assume it has to do with her wedding plans?” Gilberto waited for her nod. “I assumed so. She has been panicking over the plans for the past week.”

“Vagueness runs in the family I see. ‘Kay. Just gonna go grab my bag I guess… as I’m led to an unspecified location. Not like that ever turns out terribly for anyone in a horror movie,” Blix mumbled as she made her way upstairs to grab her bag and some shoes.

Blix, after grabbing her things, stepped outside and got into the waiting vehicle that held Navegante and Maurice.

It took about an hour and a half for them to get there. Blix stared up at the house with an eyebrow raised as she took in the grand home.

“This man…is ridiculous…” Blix said quietly, shaking her head.

Blix strolled up to the front door, smiling at Marta who was waiting for her.

“Alright. What’s wrong?” Blix asked her as they stepped in.

“So, a great deal of it is taken care of, but so many small details need to be taken care of,” Marta began leading her to the backyard porch, to a table that was covered in books and samples.

The two of them tackled each item: place settings, decorations, dresses, accessories and the like. The entire process took about 4 hours to get everything decided and ordered.

“Now, what else do we need to do?” Blix questioned her as they finished up.

“Well. I was hoping… would you be willing to sing our first dance song?” Marta quietly requested.

“You want me to sing… for your wedding?” Blix clarified, staring at her surprised.

“Yeah.  I love the way you sing. Plus, I’m sure Pacho would love to hear you sing as well,” Marta teased lightly.

Blix shook her head at that, before replying, “I’ll sing one song. That’s it.”

Marta squealed happily and hugged her, yelling, “Thankyou!Thankyou!”

Later that week, while at Pacho’s place, the news reported the first murder committed by Los Pepes.

Blix quietly listened to the news report, glancing at the men around her who appeared unbothered by the grisly murder.

Blix slipped outside, as she called Javier. However, there was no answer, which said to her that he knew she’d be upset with what had happened and was avoiding her.

Over the next several weeks, Los Pepes became embolden and were murdering Escobar’s men left and right.

Gilberto drew the line when the latest macabre display took place at a Christmas light show, where small children saw the scene.

Gilberto attempted to reach out to Judy Moncada to talk to her and Don Berna about the murders. To tell them to tone them down.

Unfortunately, they no longer cared about the Cali Cartel; they were focused on exacting their bloody revenge on Escobar.

Blix spent most of that time helping Marta with wedding plans and getting the venue ready. The wedding was this weekend, and time was of the essence.

Marta insisted that everyone get their hair and nails done the morning of the wedding. Pacho, who was not expecting guests at 6am, stared at the bride to be with some confusion when she appeared in the doorway of his bedroom.

“Hello uncle! Can you please make sure Blix is up and downstairs in 15mins? We have a busy day today!” Marta said cheerfully.

Pacho raised an eyebrow at her, before glancing down at Blix who was buried in his blankets and pillows, Diego laying half on top of her.

“Was she aware of these plans beforehand?” Pacho inquired as he looked back at Marta.

Marta gave him a toothy smile, before disappearing.

“That’s a no,” Pacho answered to himself.

“My love? My beautiful shark? You have to wake up,” He gently spoke, kissing her shoulder.

“….why? wedding not until tonight?” Blix grumbled, shaking her head.

“I know but… Marta made plans apparently… and she’s downstairs waiting for you,” Pacho informed her, pulling the pillow she tried to hide under away from her.

Blix lifted her head up, eyes blearily staring at him.

“What do you think would happen if I said no?” Blix asked him, turning her gaze to the doorway.

“Marta would be upset, and cry which would then upset Gilberto and he would make you go through with it anyway using threats,” Pacho answered.

“… so my chances are good?” Blix questioned jokingly.

Pacho chuckled, “Get up. It won’t be that terrible. I’ll see you later on.”

Blix quietly crawled out from under Diego, who had flopped onto her back at some point during the night. Blix learned very quickly that Diego was the kind of person who very rarely slept in one spot all throughout the night and very much like to spread out and take as much of the bed possible.

Blix, who was crawling over Pacho to get out bed, mumbled, “This better not be terrible, or you are making this up to me.”

“I had already planned on it. I look forward to seeing you in the dress Marta picked for you. She says it’s quite… salacious,” Pacho teased her, kissing her on the cheek.

Blix simply rolled her eyes and changed out of her night clothes into some shorts and a tank top, with some flipflops. She wasn’t going to get overly dressed up for a day of hair and makeup. She stepped into the bathroom, brushing her hair and teeth. As she walked downstairs, she clipped on her shark necklace.

Marta smiled at her and said, “Good morning! We are going to have a wonderful morning and then tonight is going to be amazing!”

Blix smiled softly at her, still trying to wake up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

The next several hours were a whirlwind of hair, nails, and makeup. By the time, they were ready to put on the dresses, it was late in afternoon/almost evening and Blix was exhausted. They had arrived at the venue and were doing last minute preparations.

Blix had finally put on the dress that Marta insisted she wear, with red pumps to match. She stared at bejeweled bodice of it that had a nude material backing it to give it some modesty. The dress itself was made to fit her like a glove, so even without proper shoulder straps it was able to stay in place.

Her hair had been done up in a high bun, her makeup as bold as the dress.

“Marta, I thought all eyes were supposed to be on you? Not on me looking like I stepped out of a romance novel?,” Blix lightly joked.

“Ahh. The beauty of it is though… if all eyes are on you no one will pay attention if me and Antony slipped away for some alone time,” Marta whispered conspiratorially.

Blix chuckled at that, “I see. I’m the distraction.”

Marta nodded, causing the two of them to giggle some more. Marta turned and looked at herself in the mirror in her wedding gown, nervously running her hands over the material.

“What’s up?” Blix asked her, standing beside her.

“The wedding jitters everyone warned me about. I always thought I wouldn’t get them, because I love Antony so much. But I am feeling them now,” Marta responded, trying to take a deep breath.

“I’d say that’s pretty normal. This is a big step in your life. It’s not an easy one to take. No one would blame you if you decided to postpone. That boy worships the ground you walk on, and if you said you wanted to wait, he would do it. So, tell me. Do you want to wait, or do you want to go marry the man you love?” Blix posed the question to her, smile on her face.

Marta took a moment to calm herself before smiling and nodding at the mirror, “I don’t want to wait.”

“Alright then, I’m going to go take me seat. I’ll see you out there honey,” Blix stated as she stepped out into the hallway.

Gilberto stood nearby, waiting to walk her down the aisle.

“Hey, give her a minute. The wedding jitters have hit her. She may need some words of encouragement too,” Blix said to him, stopping in front of him.

“Ahh. I had a feeling they would hit her soon enough. I’ll go check on her,” Gilberto replied with a knowing smile. “Blix. If I may say so, you look beautiful. I get the feeling you are going to knock Pacho off his feet.”

Blix smiled, feeling her cheeks warm up as she made her way into the main hall. Her seat was next to Pacho near the front. She made her way down the aisle, spotting Pacho with Miguel and Antony.

Miguel was the first to notice her, and nudged Pacho on the arm, motioning to look her way. Pacho turned to look at her and stared at her in awe.

“Hi. We should probably take our seats, it should be starting soon,” Blix noted, as she got near them.

Pacho quietly led her to their seats, his eyes roving up and down her figure. He eventually leaned over, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“You look like a goddess in this dress. I cannot wait to see what it looks like on the floor as I worship you tonight,” Pacho whispered into her ear. “Who knows? I may not even wait till then.”

Blix cleared her throat softly, turning to meet his gaze. She gently gave him a kiss on the lips and whispered for him to behave.

He smirked at that, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, keeping her close to him.

The ceremony began 15 minutes later and lasted for about an hour. Pacho noticed during the ceremony, that Blix was not one who cried easily; many got teary eyed during the vows. He noted at one point that she had looked down at her own left hand, her gaze blank. He desperately wanted to know what was running through her mind, but knew he wasn’t going to get an answer anytime soon.

He reached over and held her hand in his, while the ceremony continued.

When it was over, they all headed to the reception to celebrate.

Miguel was the last family member to give a speech. Pacho looked around trying to find Blix, who had disappeared a few minutes after they had arrived.

“Good evening everyone,” Came her voice on the microphone. “For those of you who don’t know, my name is Blix. I am a friend of Marta’s.”

Everyone turned their attention to her, as she stood on the dance floor directly in front of the bridal party.

“A few weeks ago, Marta asked me a very important question. She asked me if I could sing the first song of the night. I agreed on the condition that I got to choose the song. She was a bit… hesitant to say the least. In fact, I had to bargain with her… a trait I am most definitely positive she got from you Gilberto,” Blix joked.

Several people chuckled, as Gilberto stared at his daughter with pride, pressing a kiss to her head.

“Per her request, she got to choose what I am wearing, hence why I look I belong in a telenovela or a romance novel,” She gestured to her dress with a wave of her hand. “And I get to choose the song to start our evening.”

Blix looked back toward the band who gave her a thumbs up to say they were ready to go. Antony, who knew what the song was going to be, led Marta to the dancefloor. Blix took up a spot in front of the band, looking at the couple with a smile.

“This is going to be a cover version of an oldie,” She hinted, softly clearing her throat.

The music began, and everyone stared at her curiously trying to figure out the song before she started to sing. Antony and Marta began to sway softly to the music, Marta was tearing up slightly as she recognized the song. It was one of her favorite songs

As Blix sang, her gaze moving about the crowd. Her eyes eventually locked onto Pacho’s who was smiling softly at her. She sang a couple of lines, keeping her eyes on his, subtly singing to him.

She broke her gaze away once she got closer to the end, moving it back to Marta and Antony. When the song ended, the crowd clapped and cheered. Marta after hugging Antony, strolled over to Blix to throw her arms around her in a huge hug. Blix hugged her back.

Blix handed the microphone to one of the band members who took over and began to play the playlist that Marta gave them.

Blix after giving her congratulations to the happy couple, made her way over to Pacho. She collapsed not in the empty chair next to him, but onto his lap.

“I am exhausted,” She said with a small yawn.

“Don’t fall asleep just yet… we still have to get through at least another hour before we can slip away unnoticed,” Pacho informed her.

Blix quietly nodded, before the two of them got up to get food and mingle. The party was in full swing, and she was standing near the brothers listening to them as they told stories about Marta. Blix noticed out of the corner of her eye, that Marta and Antony had slipped outside.

She smirked, turning to look over at the wedding cake. Blix tilted her head as she looked at it. Something about it wasn’t right, she just couldn’t put her fingers on it. She shook her head, thinking she was being paranoid.

If only she had listened to the paranoia.

One moment she was talking to Gilberto, the next all she could hear was a sharp ringing. She was aware of something on her legs, pinning them down, and several screams and shouts. Blix opened her eyes trying to focus on something, anything. Her vision was blurry, all she could see was disfigured shapes and splashes of colors.

A voice was calling her name, growing louder as it moved closer. The weight on her legs disappeared as a face came into view. It took several blinks for her vision to clear, and she was able to see Pacho’s face staring down at her.

“I’m starting to think someone out there wants me dead,” Blix mumbled as Pacho helped her sit up.

Pacho chuckled weakly at that, whispering, “You’re okay.”

The two of them slowly stood up, looking over each other, inspecting the damage. Blix could see several bruises on his face, and blood coming out his ear. He grasped his left arm, that she assumed he had landed on.

Pacho, looking her over, could see some blood coming from her nose, with various bruises on her body. He noticed she was favoring her left leg, probably due to the dead body that had landed on her right.

The two of them looked around, as Miguel made his way over to them, holding his shoulder. The three of them found Gilberto, and after making sure Marta and his family was okay, sent everyone home or to the hospital. The 4 of them somehow made it to one of Gilberto’s home, each of them covered in soot with some sort of injury.

The four of them made it into his office where Gilberto collapsed into a chair and stared off into space. Pacho lit a cigarette and Miguel stood there with his arms crossed.

Blix had one of the guards grab a first aid kit so she can fix everyone’s injuries. She set the kit on the coffee table, before going over to Gilberto’s glasses and decanter of whiskey. Her hand trembled for a moment, and she shook it thinking that would steady it before grabbing the decanter and pouring everyone a drink.

Blix passed them out once they were all poured out, and Miguel nodded his head in appreciation. Gilberto took the drink, blinking slowly.

Pacho took the drink after taking a drag of his cigarette. Blix took her place next to Pacho, leaning against a chair.

“That man… has no decency,” Gilberto began, standing up. “To attack my family like this… my daughter on the night of her wedding. Only a madman would do that. A crazed animal, dangerous.”

A moment passed, as Gilberto began to shake with fury.

“I want him dead. Not next year. Right now. Kill all of them. I don’t just want you to kill his lawyers, accountants, and bankers… I want you to kill his secretaries, anyone who lifted a finger to help that man. I want to see them dead,” Gilberto’s once calm voice began to shout. “ANYONE WHO HAS EVER LICKED A POSTAGE STAMP AND PUT IT ON AN ENVELOPE IN HIS NAME, I WANT TO SEE THEM DEAD! AND THEN I WANT YOU TO FIND ANYONE WHO EVER SHOOK HIS HAND AND KILL THEM TOO!”

Miguel during his tirade, placed his hand on his shoulder, nodding his head quietly.

Pacho paced slightly, fury on his face as he took another drag of his cigarette.

“That son of a bitch. From this night, we’ll show no mercy,” Gilberto declared with a shaky breath.

Blix looked at the 3 of them, knowing there was nothing she could say in this moment that could help them. There was something she could do however as she quietly guided each of them to a chair. Grabbing the first aid kit, she began to tend to their injuries softly. All 3 tried to wave her off, but a firm look from her made them back down.

“Can’t rage war against Escobar, if you let your injuries go untreated,” Blix murmured to Gilberto as she looked over his wounds.

Gilberto sighed heavily and allowed her to tend to him, along with Miguel. Pacho didn’t complain, having learned his lesson from the last time he had been injured.

Once all 3 were patched up, Pacho turned the tables on her and insisted that she let him look over her injuries. She let him tend to her minor injuries with a small sigh.

A few minutes later, her and Pacho were stepping out of the office. Diego greeted them; his face full of concern as his gaze roamed over the both of them.

“We’re fine. Could’ve been worse to be honest,” Blix assured him as the 3 of them walked out to a car, to drive home.

After the both of them took a shower, and changed into cleaned clothes, Pacho went to bed, Diego trailing behind him. Blix sat in the living room, not ready to go to bed just yet.

It was late in the night, and Blix couldn’t sleep. She stared at the proposal that Gilberto had drawn up and given to her the day before to give to the ambassador. With a heavy sigh, she called him not caring that she will probably be waking him up.

“Ambassador… I need to talk to you… and the CIA. The Cali cartel want to make a deal,” Blix began.

The next morning, in the early hours, she had flown out to Medellin, proposal in hand. The trip to the embassy didn’t take long, but it sure felt like time was moving slowly.

Blix stepped into the ambassador’s office, her face blank as she took a seat next to Stechner. She was grateful to have thought about putting on makeup this morning to hide her bruises, to lessen questions.

“So. Cali wants to create a bargain, eh? Is that what you’ve been doing with your free time Agent Lage? Hanging around cartel members?” Stechner said in a mocking tone.

Blix ignored him, as she pulled out the documents that Gilberto and the other Gentlemen had signed, setting it on the ambassador’s desk.

“Listen. I am well aware that no one here is innocent when it pertains to the Cali. I would know, since Gilberto informed me that the both of you are on his payroll. This meeting was bound to happen soon enough, so cut the crap. Let’s get this show on the road,” Blix spoke calmly.

“So, Gilberto wants free reign for 6 months after the death or capture of Escobar, and all 4 are willing to turn themselves in?” Ambassador Crosby asked in clarification after spending some time reading it over.

“Yes. All four of them have agreed to turn themselves in 6 months after Escobar’s death, or capture, without interference from law enforcement. No interruptions to production lines or sales. They spend 6 months making themselves rich, and then they’ll gladly let us arrest them,” Blix explained further.

“What about your bestie? Pena? Don’t think he’ll be too happy to know you made this deal for them. What are you going to about that?” Stechner questioned looking at her.

“Currently? I don’t care. He’s not focused on Cali. When that time comes, I’ll tell him the same thing I am telling you. It’s one less cartel. Who cares how it’s done?” Blix nonchalant answer disguised her worry.

She knew one day she would have to face Javier about her decisions, but it was not going to be anytime soon. She would deal with it when the time came.

Stechner stared at her somewhat impressed, “Living in Cali definitely made you more cutthroat. If you ever think about switching agencies let me know.”

Blix rolled her eyes at that, and watched as the ambassador approved the proposal, making a phone call to the president of Colombia. A few minutes later and the signed document was being filed away, signed by all in the room.

Blix stood up preparing to leave, when the ambassador stopped her, “Agent Lage, the annual Christmas party is tonight. You should come.”

Blix nodded once, making her way out into the hallway. Stechner sauntered outside beside her, his hands in his pockets.

“So, tell me… How is Mr. Herrera? I’ve noticed you no longer have been living in that lovely little townhouse of yours. However, I guess it is hard to stay there after Escobar’s men destroyed your door,” Stechner commented as the two of them walked toward the elevator.

“I’m not dignifying that with an answer,” Blix replied, shaking her head.

The two of them stepped onto the elevator, Blix not sparing him a glance.

“Not sure what happened recently for you to come forward about this deal suddenly… however… I hope you are prepared for the potential fallout if anyone else finds out about your relationship with him,” Stechner warned her.

Blix continued to ignore him, walking forward once the elevator doors opened. Blix was well aware of the consequences; she currently did not care about them.

Blix checked in with her team.

“What’s happening guys?” Blix asked them as she stepped into the office.

Theo, Cynthia, and Robbie all looked up from their desks, before grabbing files, holding them out to her.

Blix took all of the files, with a short laugh. They filled her in on current assignments they were working to help DEA. Cynthia & Robbie traded off on who monitored the airports. Theo listened to chatter and translated phone calls. She took a seat, going through each file and approving them when she was satisfied with the work. The work took about 2 hours before she sent off the files to various other departments to be filed.

Once she got caught up on paperwork, she left the embassy. She was not in the mood to go to another party, so she hopped on a plane back to Cali.

Returning home, she smiled softly at Pacho who was on the phone giving out orders. He finished up his call as he spotted her walking toward him.

He leaned down, kissing her softly.

“So… I was thinking you and me could go out for dinner this evening?” Pacho suggested as he straightened up.

“I like the sound of that. What are our plans to deal with Medellin?” Blix inquired as the two of them strode over to his corvette.

“I’ll tell you later this evening,” Pacho answered her, driving her into the city.

While the two of them ate, Los Pepes with the new knowledge being fed to them from Cali, attacked the Medellin cartel hard. Pacho eventually informed her of what was going to go down, and she had a feeling that this war was going to get bloody on both sides.

[chalkrevelations]

Street Dance of China S3, Ep 3. It sounds like maybe I should step up my pace on these, as they’ve announced the captains for S4 now? (Yibo back, Lay Zhang back, plus a couple of new guys I don’t actually recognize yet.) When is this going to air because it is just LAUGHABLE that I can keep up with 3+ hours of this a week. Particularly if I’m going to keep obsessively re-watching Word of Honor AND try to finally finish Killer & Healer in the miniscule free time I actually have for teevee. There’s certainly no way I can watch and dither on about 3+ hours/week worth of dance show in realtime before January, at least.

ANYWAY, this ep, we get a recap of everyone falling out after the captains’ cypher, and we learn who got the final extra towels and passed through to the next round: Lu Jiao Ni, who we barely see, on Team Jackson Wang; Yuan Ye (as promised) and A Li (who we barely see) on Team Lay Zhang (ETA: Wait, we find out later that A Li isn’t even on Lay’s team, she’s on Yibo’s - he wouldn’t move her on, and she gets one of Lay’s towels instead); Bullet (as promised) on Team Wang Yibo; and Xiao Ming (as promised? maybe? as we’ve barely seen this guy?) on Team Wallace Chung.

This week: Out of 400 people, we’re down to 105. Not all of these faces are familiar, and I suspect I don’t really need to learn 90 percent of the unfamiliar faces. I … am going to go out on a limb and make a guess that one of the dancers whose name has been bolded in one of the past two episode recaps is going to be the ultimate winner, because I have umpty SYTYCD episode reactions on my LJ, and I suspect I know how this works. I wouldn’t even put money on any of those five bolded names in the previous paragraph, quite honestly. Anyway, now it’s time to start culling down to 60. We bring out the team captains, and my first reaction is “MY EYES” because wth are some of you wearing? Wow. Yibo’s shoelaces are all over his jacket. Wallace looks like he rolled a flasher on the street for his trenchcoat. Lay Zhang is wearing a baggy pink jumpsuit, and I guess, OK, it’s easier to maneuver bathroom breaks in one of those when you have a dick, but that’s definitely a fashion trend that should have stayed back in the ‘80s. I guess questionable fashion is an international phenomenon.

There’s also an empty chair for the promised Mystery Guest, and there’s a game with clues, and a lot of guesses from our captains about who the Mystery Guest will be, and Jackson does A Bit through the whole thing. I don’t know whether to be entertained or annoyed by him. He’s the only one without some egregiously questionable fashion choices (so far) this episode, so maybe he gets a pass. Anyway, I don’t have the pop cultural context to understand the guesses, and I also don’t have either the pop cultural context or the knowledge of this area of dance to grok the Mystery Guest’s identity, but he’s Huang Bo, and apparently he had more than 1000 dance performances in the 1990s, so he must be at least as old as me and Wallace, if not older. Yibo takes the opportunity to make the – very NON-politic – remark that maybe HE wasn’t even born yet at the time? That … is not the way to win friends and influence people, Infant. Also, the Mystery Guest is NOT the person Jackson kept doing A Bit about. The reveal is all very dramatic, and he does a lil’ bit of choreography from of each of the four Extant Captains’ videos before he takes off his mask, and they act appropriately impressed, and there are some girls with short shorts among his backup dancers, so that all happened. The show obviously wants me to be very impressed by him. Show also tells us he’ll have a special skill that will be very important and at least leads us to believe that he’s going to be the “life-saver,” so the audience immediately curries favor, or at least plays at it.

Next up: Rules. Eliminations this week involve contestants self-selecting into groups of anywhere from one to five people and performing for a panel of all the captains. Teams pull a number out of a hat for performance order. Thumbs up from all four captains, you go to the next round. Abstentions from all captains, you go home. Thumbs up from some and abstentions from others, you face the possibility of a call-out from other contestants, whereupon you have to dance for your life battle to find out which of you stays and which of you goes. Oh, and we’re only going to keep going until the 60 available seats are filled, and then we’re done. If you’re number 35, you’d better be prepared to battle someone earlier and kick their ass, or you’re fucked, you don’t even get to dance. I’ve said it before: Audentes Fortuna adiuvat. Only wait, ETA: There will be some last minute BS rules fuckery, in a way that is clearly intended to save someone in particular, which I feel some kind of way about - and it is not really the way that almost everyone on the show seems to feel - but I guess we’ll get to that later.

And cue ridiculously long nattering, so we’re going to cut here.

First group is Lin Meng (Team Wallace), Teng Zai (Team Lay), Bing - of the infamous motorbike flirtation - and Dian Men (both Team Yibo), along with a dude we haven’t actually seen yet, Tang Qian (also Team Yibo). Your lack of even B-roll so far is concerning re: your chances in this competition, Tang Qian. I’m just sayin’. Anyway, this is a powerhouse group, and at least Lin Meng and Teng Zai are familiar with each other because they’re from the same crew, and Xiao Bao remarks from the audience of contestants that these guys are going to go through, no matter what. They’re going to do a totally popping routine. My sound drops out at the beginning which … yeah, makes them look even more like a boyband at the beginning, in their matching baseball uniform shirts. So, here’s the thing, they’re a little muddled, they don’t move smoothly around each other on stage - their dance moves are coordinated, but they’re not moving in space like a group that understands each other. (Somewhere in here, my sound comes back, and Yibo already can’t hold still to the music.) The other thing is, though - all of these guys are very good at what they do, they finally hit their stride a minute or so in, and when they do, they hit it hard. I’m frankly surprised they don’t get passed right through to the next round, but Jackson abstains on the vote, and when called upon to explain himself, it turns out he just wants to see them battle. I can understand the impulse, Jackson, but this is already super stressful on all the dancers, and it doesn’t escape my notice that you’re the only one of the four captains without a dog in this particular fight, so a little bit you look like you’re doing this just because you can. Remember this, because it will set a bad example for an 11th -hour vote. Anyway, there’s the chance for a callout, which no one takes because the entire audience is convinced this group is too good to beat. Five of 60 seats taken.

Group two is Shen Kai Xiang – the Jack Ma lookin’ dude. He’s flying solo. He gets to stand around uncomfortably for a while onstage while Special Guest Huang Bo does A Bit making fun of all of the captains’ speech patterns and accents and pronunciation, except Yibo’s, because Yibo apparently never talks. Ha ha. (I’m also wondering if there’s some socio-cultural stuff underlying some of this that I’m not cued in enough to fully understand.) Huang Bo then tells the contestant that Jackson has probably fucked him over by praising him too effusively (he came from Jackson’s team, and Jackson already is displaying a tendency to rhapsodize about how everything is “ART”), so all the captains now will have inflated expectations that Shen Kai Xiang is surely only going to fail to meet. I’m beginning to suspect that Huang Bo’s Special Guest Superpower is not “lifesaver” but “kind of annoying asshole.” Maybe it’s to take that particular spotlight off of Chick. ANYWAY, Shen Kai Xiang FINALLY gets to perform, and he gets a little bit of a slow start, but he packs in a lot of elements and gets a LOT of good air in his moves once he gets wound up. He’s lyrical and super emo about it. I’m kind of “eh” on him – technically, he’s good, but I’m not particularly connecting with him, which I’m willing to admit could be a me thing, as everyone else seems super-impressed. Three captains pass him through. Yibo does not and explains this decision as personal preference – he likes more “underground” styles, more battle styles. Huang Bo brings back the issue of too-high expectations to help explain why Shen Kai Xiang isn’t being passed directly to the next round, even though Yibo just explained his decision and that is literally not the reason he explicitly gave. Anyway, Shen Kai Xiang gets no call outs, which seems to surprise Yibo, and we’re at six of 60 seats taken.

In quick succession, we move through Liang Hua Jie – we don’t see much of him, but we learn that while Wallace likes his musicality, Yibo doesn’t like his face (OK, doesn’t like his facial expressions, which, what can I say? I get this. If I’d had the power to unilaterally send home Lacey Schwimmer on her season of SYTYCD, I’d have done it, that’s how fucking annoying I found the way she’d mug for the camera the entire time she danced. Like I couldn’t even watch her dancing, because I was too distracted by what she was doing with her FACE the whole time.); Jian De Chao (wait, is this Chao from the first episode?) & Chen Zui – who, from what we get to see of them have some good flow and move pretty well together, but can get a little bit mushy in their moves, and Yibo likes their skills, but Lay thinks they don’t feel like a group, which what? Incorrect; and a group that’s dubbed themselves Purple Storm Show, which includes Alex from Jackson’s team and four other people who I can’t even catch – we barely see their performance, and Lay likes them, but Jackson thinks they’re flat. I can’t tell if any or all of these guys were sent through to the next round or sent home, but if they didn’t make it, then  :(  because I liked Alex, and he got hit in the eye for this, he deserves better than to get sent home because his team can’t get it together. We still have no group that’s been passed through by all four captains.

And then, next up is another powerhouse team: Gongsu Wu Ming and Hei Zai (Team Lay), George and Xiao Ming (Team Wallace), and (Xiao) Bai (Team Jackson). Yibo is skeptical about an all B-boy group, and don’t make me fight you, Yibo, because an all B-boy group is like my dream come true (sorry, poppers; sorry, lockers; my heart truly belongs to the B-boys, they are my favorite). We learn they added a flip at the last minute – an assisted flip, with a couple of them flinging George into the air over the other two of them. Wu Ming thinks that George is the only one of all the competitors who could do it, but George – who has a little more skin in the game than anyone else, as the guy who could potentially land on his head wrong - is a bit concerned about whether they’re going to pull it off. They start, and they’re all good, a little bit muddled before they hit their stride, but the slo-mo cartwheel is great, and from there, they’re off and running. This is why I like the B-boys – I know it takes a lot out of you to do this, but there is nothing – nothing­ – like the magnetic energy they can generate when they’re in their performance headspace and everything is flowing. This is a performance, and Wu Ming has talked a little bit about wanting to step up breaking, and if this is the sort of thing he wants to do, I’m all for it – give him the platform now. I’m going to take just a minute to single out Bai and say that he’s better when he’s not doing A Bit like he did in his initial performance for Lay Zhang – he’s much more electric here, and someone else’s choreography may make the difference. Jackson, Yibo, Lay – they’re all out of their seats, none of them can hold still in the face of this. We get to the end, and unfortunately, everyone else is kind of cluttered and mushy moving into position for the flip – that is not a way to go out guys, DO NOT DO THAT at the last minute – but then George f’kn NAILS the flip, so that’s thankfully the last impression they leave. The captain’s faces are a picture. (Except Wallace, who’s suddenly too cool to give us anything, apparently.) FIRST ALL-PASS. George’s assessment: “Not bad.” :facepalm: OK, Mr. Cool Guy. They also cut in a post-interview bit with Bai about the performance, and he notes that they all know each other, they’ve been battling each other for like, a decade, now. Dance together more, guys.

Moving on, we fortunately have another very strong group to follow them: Gai Gai, Wang Tao and Huang Xiao, all from Jackson’s team, and you can tell he badly, badly wants to start in on the ART! bit but he (loudly) keeps his mouth shut about this group until after the performance. The only one of these three we’ve seen so far this season has been Gai Gai, but they all dance in the same group together, and they seem to be well-known by a lot of the other competitors, particularly Huang Xiao, both as a dancer and a choreographer. They say they’re doing jazz, although I’d be more likely to call this contemporary, if I was going to put them in a box. They are gorgeous – lyrical, fantastic dance vocabulary, amazing choreography, beautiful musicality, and the way they move together as a unit is … :chef’s kiss:  I think Huang Xiao may be the best of the three, technically, but there’s something ineffably charismatic about Gai Gai that’s pulling focus a bit – just a bit – more than the other two in this performance. If there’s a weak link, it’s Wang Tao, and really, that’s only by comparison with the other two, which is a really high bar. We get some shots of the audience of competitors worrying about Yibo’s reaction, given his preference for the old-school battle dancers and an apparent “strictness” with urban dancers and related genres, but these three also get an All-Pass to the next round, and Yibo talks to them a little bit about the choreography and his (complimentary) reactions to the performance before they leave the stage.

And then. Oh, dear. Then we get a group of three – Da Mao, A Li and Tall(? Maybe? It looked like he was going to get out of this anonymously – probably lucky for him – but then the subtitles threw up this name on him at the last minute) – who are the only krumpers who’ve made it this far. Lay Zhang is really promoting them, because he really wants to see a bigger krump presence, and he’s really nervous about their performance, and he really, really should not have pinned his hopes on these three, because I hate to say it but they are a hot fk’n mess. They are … not good. I can’t believe any of the three made it this far, and in fact, we learn after their performance, while everyone is sitting in a kind of stunned horror (and y’all, I am not exaggerating for effect there), that Yibo did not pass A Li on from his team, that she got one of Lay Zhang’s final extra battle towels. I mean, there’s an obvious gap in the quality of this performance compared to everyone else we’ve seen. There’s also a lot of pacing around and standing around instead of dancing. They’re trying for the attitude, but they’re not managing it. They do manage to get an embarrassed reaction from Chick, which says something all on its own, as I wasn’t aware that he had any shame. Other competitors also are doing the embarrassment-squick cringe in the audience. Lay Zhang is literally hiding behind his clipboard. This is the first All-Out we get, where they’re directly eliminated – not even Lay can bring himself to vote “yes” on them. Now, all the krumpers are gone, and Lay is visibly sad and frustrated, but as we appear to move to a little bit of a break, Yibo displays the most emotional intelligence of anyone there and asks Lay to teach him how to krump, to distract him and get him actually doing the dancing he enjoys for a little bit. It’s also a chance for Yibo to learn a new thing, and he talks about his chance to improve in a little interview bit from later on that’s cut in here. I mean, yes, that actually was kind of a sad attempt at krump during the cypher, my dude, so this can only help you, but you also are being an extremely good guy, giving your fellow captain some emotional support right now. Thumbs up.

Next up, we have AK Dong (Team Wallace), also flying solo, and they give us a little heart-tugging B-roll about how he doesn’t have a team with him there, so he’s going it alone. He’s fantastic right out of the gate - good musicality, clean and precise, and he’s got a nice texture to his performance, it feels … full even though it doesn’t feel as big and expansive as some of the other dancers. Unfortunately, Lay doesn’t agree with me (incorrect), says he wants a performance that’s more elegant and “balanced,” and is the single holdout vote, which opens my dude up to a call-out challenge. This is the guy who looks like comedian Hank Chen, which has overshadowed his dancing twice now, because he had to listen to it from Haung Bo when he came out to dance, and he CANNOT catch a break, because now he gets challenged by three teams, including Bouboo’s team, which also includes Klash, Bullet and Colin (all Team Yibo), plus Boris (Team Lay), who we’ve only seen B-roll of so far although he speaks good Chinese, despite being from … I’m not sure where, but not China? AK Dong complains about how Boris looks at him with innocent eyes and tells him that they have no option other than to challenge, which is true (ETA: insofar as we know at this point), because they’re #36, and the 60 slots would almost certainly fill up before they even get a chance to dance. This team wins the bottle spin against the other two challengers, and I mean. :hands: This is a slaughter. They’re five-on-one, and they’re all really good at what they do, they make it look effortless, and AK Dong’s face is going to kill me. Wallace actually does vote for him, but the other three vote for the team, and that’s five more seats filled, and AK Dong eliminated, and I’m annoyed (although not as much as I’m gonna be) because I liked him, and I would have liked for him to get a chance to dance without having to listen to the Hank Chen nonsense at least once.

Next, we have Li Yue & Sha Sha, who appear to dance together on the regular. They have a kind of sultry number put together as the Green Snake and the White Snake that is … hm. I don’t know if we’re classifying this as urban or jazz for the purposes of the show, but it’s another piece that fits more into my contemporary box, if we were classifying them for most of the Western dance spaces I’ve seen. They’re good, as befits this stage of the competition, but a little inconsistent, technically. Also, I don’t find them particularly exciting to watch – I feel like something’s missing, although I can’t quite put my finger on what. I’m not sure their flow is consistent, and they’re probably not helped by following Gai Gai, Huang Xiao and Wang Tao. They get three yes votes from Lay, Yibo and Jackson, although they are … enough to maybe make Yibo a slight bit uncomfortable, being the shy and fragile homosocial forest creature that he may be, or that he may be getting edited as, who knows. Huang Bo pokes at Lay Zhang about his reaction to and vote for them. He also basically says that Wallace didn’t vote for them because Wallace wasn’t turned on by them, because Wallace is still doing his imperturbable cool-as-a-cucumber routine. Wallace’s hold-out vote opens them up to a call-out, and several groups come down to challenge, including – bad luck for Li Yue and Sha Sha – TI, who win the bottle spin. This group includes choreographer Zheng Jian Peng, as well as Su Lianya, who I didn’t realize was a TI member, both Team Wallace, along with … oh my god, Wei Ming, who’s the “Sir, what are you doing?” guy from Episode 2 when Wallace was giving out towels to poppers like candy, and I’m kind of pleased he’s made it this far, just based on that moment, alone, never mind any dancing skills. Rounding out the group are Long Long and Wei Lin, both from Team Yibo, and I think we got B-roll of Wei Lin at some point during Yibo’s eliminations in the first couple of eps. I know nothing about Long Long at this point. At any rate, everybody in this group is so good, I can finally see how they got their rep – fantastic musicality, and a great job of working as a unit. They feel like a team, even when they don’t manage to be quiiiiite synchronized. I’m not really feeling their costumes. Su Lianya continues to be a standout, even in a group that sets the bar this high. Wallace’s composure finally breaks when the other team captains evince interest in poaching her, and oh my god, he still has the hair elastic that he held for her at her initial performance, that they said would be a token of their vow to go all the way in the competition together. OK, I give Wallace a lot of shit, but this is actually kind of adorable. He literally pulls it out of his pocket to tell the other captains they can’t have her and to plead with her to remember their promise to each other. TI gets three votes and moves on. (Lay, still apparently captivated by the snake ladies although not enough to bald-facedly vote for them in the wake of TI’s performance, abstains.)

Next up are Tao and CiCi, and OK. I’m going to be honest here. I think they’re leveraging the “couple” schtick for all it’s worth, and good for them, it looks like they can pull it off, because I think some of the amazed reaction we get from the captains and from the audience is influenced a lot by their coupleness, but at the same time, I think some of the amazed reaction we get from the captains and from the audience is actually influenced by their coupleness rather than their dancing. I mean, Su Lianya and Wei Lin are in the audience of competitors clutching each other’s hands and crying, and it seems to be just as much about Tao telling CiCi out loud that he loves her just before the music starts and the fact that they kiss as part of the piece, if not more than it’s about their actual dancing. The show is also really pushing me on this, because whereas, with everyone else, it tosses up closed captions that tell me what moves are happening (in addition to dialogue subs), now I’m getting things like “heaven-made match.” They’re good, but I think they actually also suffer a bit from following the Gai Gai/Huang Xiao/Wang Tao powerhouse, because I think we’re unlikely to get anything on the lyrical side of things that’s going to match up to that for the rest of the day. Tao and CiCi are better than Li Yue and Sha Sha were, and it is pretty badass the way she manages to make herself so small and compact she literally disappears behind him for that last little bit, and if they’d won the bottle spin on the last callout, they would have won the challenge, I have no doubt. But. :hands: I think the show has actually done that thing Huang Bo accused Jackson of earlier and set my expectations too high. I’m’a sound like Yibo – or like Yibo normally would, because he also seems to get suckered into the overwhelmed reaction for this – and say that I think Tao was better in the less lyrical style when he danced with Yibo and Bing in the Ep 2 towel battle. They get an All-Pass from the captains and talk about their inspiration for the piece, which apparently is a couple who confessed their love to each other the day before the girl had to go into COVID quarantine, and well, now I guess I feel like just a little bit of an asshole for not appreciating the COVID love story properly? Anyway, the captains then keep asking them intrusive questions about their relationship, and Huang Bo mocks Lay for apparently never being in love so he won’t understand what it’s like, and I’m cringing in my seat a little before Jackson gets us back on track and Tao and CiCi finally go sit down.

Then Huang Bo takes the chance to go over to the contestants who haven’t performed yet and stress them out about how few of the 60 available seats are left. I mean, I guess it’s part of competition, but come on, dude.

ANYWAY, next up, we have a group calling themselves Team Wake Up – it’s the waackers, and this group includes Xiao Bao and San Jin from Team Lay, along with a guy we haven’t seen yet, Tu Zi; Meng Di from Team Yibo; and Gao Shi Yu, who we also haven’t seen, from Team Wallace. They start working it, and I’m like, oh wait … and then they hit the Cat Walk, and I’m like, oh shit, and a light bulb finally goes off, because I’ve been super-fk’n slow, but now they’ve shown me what this genre is about, and I’m interested to see what they do here, because a lot of this performance could be straight off the floors of the ball scene. The entire group is pretty good, although I do think Gao Shi Yu is the weak link, she’s not quiiiiite up to the standard of the rest of them. They move well as a group, though, good coordination, sharp and clean, fantastic musicality, high energy all the way through, with EXCELLENT attitude, which is half the battle, because if you’re not confident for this kind of thing – or if you can’t at least fake it flawlessly – you might as well not even be out there. They all do lose a little bit of focus when they’re in the background as they break out for their individual moves, and they fall apart a tiny bit near the end. Also, Meng Di’s belt is off-center, and I know that sounds super picky, but it kept distracting me, so I wish that hadn’t been the case. Xiao Bao is definitely still the standout here – he takes the lead from the minute they come out, with the mic, and never really relinquishes it. We finally get to see San Jin perform, and his extension could be better. Tu Zi must be lacking in the charisma department to not have shown up before this, because he’s better than I expected. Before they started, the group that Xiao Jie and Yang Kai are in together – who still haven’t performed – were debating if they should challenge this group, but Xiao Jie advised waiting to see how good they were, and then after the performance is all, “nooo, we should not challenge,” and props to you for not just writing off the waackers, my man, because they get an All-Pass, and there’s not even a chance for a callout. Before we move on, Wallace clams he’s learned some waacking during the show, and the other captains (led by Jackson, who calls him gege) make him demonstrate, and the contestants, who know what side their bread is buttered on, applaud.

Available seat check. Yibo participates in further stressing out the contestants by saying “Like, a dozen?” All y’all need to be challenging whatever chance you get. Now I bet you’re sorry you didn’t challenge Shen Kai Xiang back at the beginning, aren’t you?

Next up is our group of X-Crew representatives, hop-hop, and Yibo is excited. I almost expect him to do a little dance in his seat. Yang Kai helpfully lets me know that this group is from the top hip-hop crew in China. Oh, hey, that’s Qin Yu, from Team Wallace, the guy who Gongsu Wu Ming immediately recognized as the weak link in one of the towel battles and got up on; the guy who subsequently got taken out by Teng Zai, My Beloved. Qin Yu, the guy we hadn’t even had B-roll on, and still don’t. I wonder if I’m reading too much into that. He’s joined by Flea (which I’m assuming is a direct translation, as it doesn’t sound like “flea” when he says his name?) and Ding, also from Team Wallace - neither of whom we’ve seen before, I think - along with Ting and Lei Xiao Yang from Team Jackson. This is also the first time we’ve seen Lei Xiao Yang. I … feel weirdly unconfident about the famed X-Crew, given we haven’t seen more of them before this. Then again, we’d only seen Gai Gai from her group, so maybe this is a BigSurprise!edit … Ting comes out hard and heavy, and I actually think this is the best performance we’ve seen from her so far. She spends a lot of time out in front on this one, and I don’t think I got from her initial appearance or from her towel battle performances just how good she actually is. Overall though … I am … not that impressed with this group. They start out strong, but then they get sloppy. They have trouble working as a unit, which is surprising from people who supposedly have experience dancing together. They’re all very good, but they’re not synchronized. A lot of their solo showcase bits lack complexity, and that is an understatement. Qin Yu still has some of that nice fluidity along with his pretty face, but he’s not balanced, and he absolutely does not have the finesse he needs to pull this off. They all do move into the end strong, together again, hard, power behind their moves - almost everything from the slo-mo move is good - but … it’s a little late, y’all. That took way too long to get back together. And then, they inexplicably descend into … it’s not even sloppiness, it’s an utter hot mess during, like, the last 15 seconds of the performance, which is absolutely not the final impression you want to leave. And … wow. Shit. There are captains who actually agree with me on this. Sometimes you see the expected top dancers allowed to slide some in these early rounds of competition shows, but not this time – Wallace and Yibo both vote yes, but Jackson and Lay both abstain, and Jackson … wow. Wow. Is disappointed in them and expected more. Despite the fact that he’s like, 12, and that he’s done this to past groups just because he wanted to see them battle, a little bit this actually has a vague feeling of your dad telling you how much you’ve let him down. The audience is shocked, but I’m glad to hear someone say it. It was a good - if spotty - performance but certainly not the best we’ve seen.

So, we have a callout, and the group with Xiao Jie and Yang Kai, which also includes some guys named Shen Zi Hao, Xiao Zhi Bin and Oscar, pounces. And that is a very deliberate word choice, because these guys are on X-Crew like a lion on the trailing gazelle. They’re in their Men In Black suits (ETA: Wait, no, I think maybe they’re Agent Smith suits), and the audience of other competitors is losing it. Xiao Bao is very excited about Xiao Jie. Both Yibo and Jackson look like they’re in actual physical pain, to be forced to make the choice that’s coming up. Ting looks like she’s getting ready to throw up – she’s accepting this with less equanimity than she did the possible results of her initial performance, at least on the surface. I … am dreading losing her, actually, because I suspect that’s what’s getting ready to happen, and I am so so sorry, baby, that you worked so hard to carry your crew like that and they couldn’t keep their shit together. On the one hand, I’m impressed they’re pitting this level of competition against each other so early. On the other, I feel Jackson’s and Yibo’s pain. God. God. The Xiao Jie-Yang Kai group is here to f’kn battle. This is shaping up to be a slaughter. They are fast, clean, precise, great musicality, complex moves, super performance. They’re synchronized, high energy, fantastic animation – which could be a little cheesy, but they’re confident and fearless enough to pull it off - fun and interesting. They are maybe a little bit too gimmicky to be perfect for my taste, but I’m not the one voting them through, and what they’ve come up with is perfect for the audience that matters – the captains, the majority of which are 20-something-year-old boys – and knowing your audience, and performing for them, is a skill, too. BIGGEST (and frankly, only) ISSUE: Somebody fucked up a move, right at the beginning … I think maybe Yang Kai? (ETA: Yah, it was Yang Kai, ugh, what a time for that to happen.) If you’re going to fuck up, best to do it at the very beginning, I guess, and then give this performance afterward, to mitigate it as much as possible, but that one misstep gives the captains enough excuse put off a decision they really don’t want to make, like it’s not just going to make it worse to kick the can down the road a few minutes. Split vote, 2-2 (I thiiink, Yibo and Jackson for X-Crew, Lay and Wallace for the challengers?), which throws it to a further battle. Ting and Xiao Jie, one-on-one, and both of them are feeling the pressure of competing for their entire team instead of just themselves. Two rounds, hiphop and locking. So, each of them is better in their specialty. Ting’s got some fantastic, precise moves for the hiphop round. Xiao Jie is not as good in this round; I do notice he’s got a more directly confrontational style when he’s battling. I feel like she’s doing more waacking than locking in the locking round. Overall, she’s cleaner, more precise, he’s got a little bit more energy. I wouldn’t want to make this decision, frankly. I think Ting was better technically, but Xiao Jie might be the better performer – better at all that other stuff that adds up to stage presence. I do wonder how much of the captains’ decision is influenced by the groups, and who the captains are or aren’t willing to lose, even though it’s supposed to be based on this 1x1 battle. Just looking at who the show has put emphasis on already, we’ve got Ting vs. Xiao Jie AND Yang Kai, and I don’t know that they’re going to want to let that one-two punch go. Wallace votes Ting and X-Crew. Yibo and Lay vote Xiao Jie and the challengers. Jackson, the coward, abstains. Looks like Ting and X-Crew are going home, and this is the first cut that I’m genuinely upset about seeing. Ting feels bad for letting her crew down, but they let you down first, baby, or you wouldn’t even have been in that position.

Available seat check: 12. Dancers left: 27. Well.

We’re coming up on two hours now, and there’s clearly some kind of drama we want to get to, because we whip through the next few performances – few names, limited time spent on them. The ones who do make it through are likely cannon fodder in the next couple of rounds. There’s a group of four in khakis that gets sent through to the next round; Yibo liked their moves. Guy named Zhan Ke in a suit goes through to the next round. We’ve turned into a clip show now, and the screen literally says “ … ” at one point as each group of competitors gets 3 seconds of airtime. Cut to three seats left out of the 60. There’s about seven people left, and … that includes Chick. I have a sinking feeling this guy is going to be the real focus, at this point. He’s paired up with some dude named Long, and they have lost the bottle spin on callout after callout after callout, so they’ve never had a chance to challenge, and now, look at these morose motherfuckers, still sitting in the bleachers. I almost feel bad for them.

So, three seats left, and the next group is three people: Yang Qi aka “Apple” from Team Jackson, Lin from Team Lay and Bobo from Team Wallace. Urban dancers. I lose sound on them right at the beginning, but they’ve got some nice sharp moves, good choreography, they work well as a unit. Solid performance, if not the best we’ve seen. Apple’s got the best technique, I think. Audience likes them a lot. We get a cut to Chick and the other competitors who haven’t danced yet as we count down for the vote, and they are all dying. Three votes yes. Yibo abstains. Huang Bo is so prepared for this group to be sent right through that he starts clapping and congratulating them, and Yibo has to be all, “Wait, no. Not yet.” The captains give their reasoning: Jackson says that he felt their power, emotion, speed all deserved full marks. Yibo agrees.

Yibo agrees.

…

...

…

Their faces in response, y’all. Their little WTF faces as he explains that he really just wants to see the other dancers, too. Oh my god, Yibo. You can’t just say that out loud. Are you serious with this, you can’t even make up a thing to fake critique them on? Cut to a later interview with Bobo, who’s been the least able to school his face journey in response to this: “Wang Yibo, I won’t forget.” Also, Bobo says, you’re not even hot. (lol) Joking aside, the group goes on to make all the correct noises about sure, it’s a competition, you face competitors, it’s what happens, because what are you gonna say? Meanwhile, to be completely honest, I’m probably the person who’s been least able to school their face journey in response to this, because come on, Yibo. It’d be one thing if you were making some kind of statement about the way they set this up from the beginning, with all competitors unable to participate, but I’m pretty sure you’re actually doing this to give Chick another chance, because you have been inexplicably all up on his jock since he showed up, what is it about this guy? I don’t get it. At all.

So, we get a callout, and everyone left challenges, of course, because this is probably the last chance. The audience is rooting for Chick. I still don’t get it. Bottle spin ends up on … Zhao Hai Jie, from Team Wallace, who we’ve never yet seen perform. Here’s the thing: If he can win this battle, then he only takes one seat, leaving another two seats available. However, he is NOT going to win this battle, not without ripping off any figleaf of fair competition that the show may have, because he’s just not that great. If he wins, there’s no way around the fact, right in your face, that it’s a strategic vote. He does not win. Four votes for Apple, Lin and Bobo. Sixty seats filled.

HOWEVER, just in case you were worried there may be any integrity here, director Lu Wei comes ambling out to say, hey, you know those rules we have in place? Well, fuck ‘em. Who cares. Let everybody left battle, and whoever wins that battle can have a seat along with the 60 other people. I’m going to translate this one, because despite the limitations of my Level 1 Duolingo Mandarin, I have umpty SYTYCD episode reactions on my LJ and I feel like I’m pretty fluent in Dance Show BS: “We really want to keep somebody who’s left, so there’s going to be some chicanery on our part.” They really do not want Chick to go home, y’all. I know it’s him. It’s super extra obvious they’re desperately trying to save him, at this point. And I am here to tell you that if Chick ends up on this show and Ting goes home, there will be nothing on this earth that could possibly resurrect Chick from the Pit of My Dislike.

Anyway, we get Dai Dai from Team Lay, who describes herself as a fusion dancer and is pretty good for the first 40 seconds or so of her music and then completely loses the thread and kind of falls apart. The captains do not seem impressed. Possibly they also know we’re just killing time until we get to Chick. Up next is Su, who is Very Dramatic. He doesn’t say what team he’s from, but given Wallace’s reactions, I suspect he’s from Team Wallace. I suspect Yibo’s not going to like his face. His performance goes increasingly off the rails as he goes on. He’s got a lot of goodwill from the audience of competitors, but no. This is not a winning performance. And then we get Chick & Long, literally the last to perform. Chick spends the entire time doing A Bit. Long, who anyone barely remembers is even there, does 2/3+ of the dancing. Everyone – everyone – is apparently vastly entertained by Chick, and I just … :hands: Fine. He’s a character, but I have yet to see anything in three episodes, across, like, 7 hours, that lets me see whether he can really dance or not. Yibo literally tells Jackson, “He doesn’t have many tricks, but he’s got a ton of ideas” and later says he’s a B-boy without a power move. Anyway, one vote for Su (Wallace), three votes for Chick and Long. We’re at 62 dancers, and I cannot believe I’m going to be subjected to Chick’s continued clownery when Ting has to go home.

Thank GOD we’re activating the Special Guest Host Powers, the first of which is “REVIVE,” i.e., bring someone back who was eliminated. Yibo is immediately like, omg, the hip-hop group. Then we do Yet Another Bit where the captains cater to Huang Bo so that he’ll take their advice on who to revive, and it goes on too long when we are, my god, two hours and fourteen minutes into this. Meanwhile, Yibo reiterates, the hip-hop group. Yeah, Yibo, this I approve of - if I gotta watch you fall all over yourself over Chick, you need to get Ting back for me. So, we’re finally getting the captains’ actual recommendations: Jackson says the hip-hop group, possibly feeling bad about the fact that he’s the one who spiked their chance the first time around? Yibo is all, me too! Yes! That one! It’s kind of adorable. Also, yes, Yibo, you need to get Ting back for me. Lay says Li Yue and Sha Sha, the white and green snakes. Wallace recommends a popping group that I don’t even know if we saw perform? At any point in the past 7+ hours of three episodes? Wallace, are you high? Anyway, THANK GOD, Huang Bo brings back the X-Crew group. We’re at 67 dancers.

Second Special Guest Host Power is … “battle?” So, we’re setting up Qiang Qi Da Zhan, aka Seven to Smoke, which they’ve apparently done in past seasons? Each captain picks two people – eight total – to participate. Twenty minutes total. Increments of 30 seconds each to battle. And I guess you have to accumulate seven points in various battles. We don’t get to hear the captains’ picks, but I can see that AK Dong is called back for this one. Also, I spot one of the krumpers. (:eyeroll: Really, Lay? Because I know that was you.) We see some clips of this. We see AK Dong get to six points. He … maybe gets his seventh point? Anyway, he says in the last interview clip that he’s here. I guess we officially find out the Seven to Smoke results next ep?

Also next episode: Divided into two groups and battling by genre for the next elimination. Five rounds. Also looks like captains might get a chance to poach from other teams. Also some wacky fuckery with the dancers’ heads that looks like it’s going to be stomping all over my embarrassment squick, argh.

Finally, we get a peek at hotpot, and it sounds like they ended up with 70 dancers, so three people managed to get seven points in Seven to Smoke? And somebody’s mom is apparently coming to hotpot, but I’d have to watch the actual hotpot show to find out whose mom, and we’re out.

[elen-aranel]

Lt., Phone Home Part 2 (Part 1)

The Engineer’s Adventures

1-1 • 1-2 • 2 • 3 • 4

A sequel to Lt., Phone Home For @autumnleaves1991-blog who said she’d read one if I wrote it. Pairing: Captain Christopher Pike x F!Reader (no Y/N) Warnings: none really! Canon typical injuries to other characters, alcohol consumption, plot WC: 1.6k A/N: I’m still so new at this!

If you’d been able to finish your level three diagnostic before the Layrians sent you to the past, you would have detected the fault and this wouldn’t have happened.

You only have a second to think that, though, because ‘this’ is a console exploding in Chief Engineer Louvier’s face, sending him, Ensign Devrin, a Tellarite newly transferred to the Enterprise, and Crewman Park flying.

“Engineering to sickbay! Medical Emergency!” You have your communicator in one hand, tricorder in the other, scanning. You want to check on Louvier, see if he’s okay, but there’s a fault in the EPS system and if you don’t get it locked down quickly, the warp core may blow. You look around to see who you have, and a lot of shocked eyes meet your gaze. You take charge.

“Harrison, see to Louvier and the others. Okorafor, vent the plasma manifolds. Mason, isolate the console from the rest of the system. Everyone else stand by.” You run through the checklists in your head.

“Engineering to Bridge, there’s a problem with the EPS system and we’re going to need to shut down the warp core immediately. Louvier is injured,” you add, explaining why you’re calling and not him.

“Yellow Alert. Helm, drop us out of warp. Keep us updated Lieutenant,” Number One’s voice is calm as you feel the ship’s vibrations change as you drop into normal space.

“Computer, emergency warp core shutdown. Authorisation Gamma Epsilon one-two-zero.”

“Unable to comply. Control circuits are offline.”

The console must have taken out the circuitry when it blew. No time to fix it – you need to do this manually.

You dash to the other central console, the one that’s still undamaged, and start entering commands.

“Michaels, if I can’t shut the core down we may need to eject it. Can you check those systems are running please?”

You really need someone to keep an eye on the impulse engine too, since if that overheats it can cause a lot of problems but you can’t eject it. You look around – a team of medics have arrived and are loading the injured onto stretchers, helped by a couple of engineering crewmen. You should be getting reinforcements soon now that the ship’s at yellow alert, but they aren’t here yet. You spy a gold uniform, standing out among the red and blue.

“Captain?” What’s he doing here?

“I was passing by when I heard the yellow alert. Number One told me the problem was here. Can I help?”

“Yes.” You point to a console. “Monitor the temperature of the impulse drive. If it gets above 400 Kelvin, increase the coolant. If it doesn’t come back down, let me know.”

“Aye, Lieutenant.”

You go back to your console, manually going through the power-down checklist. It’s stressful, especially when there are a few hiccups along the way with errors related to the damage that occurred, but you’re in your element here.

“Warp core offline,” you announce at last, as more staff arrive finally. Now you can get to fixing the actual problem.

“You have more than earned that drink,” Captain Pike says, as you walk down the corridor together some time later. The ship is back at warp, Louvier is in sickbay still recovering from plasma burns, but he, Devrin and Park will make a full recovery. Repairs are almost complete, and you would have stayed until they were done had Pike not gently remarked that you had mentioned you had a prior arrangement. You hadn’t mentioned it, of course, but no one else was to know. Pike had stayed in Engineering for the duration, fetching and carrying, checking readings and generally making himself useful. Having him around was good for crew morale, especially when you hadn’t known the prognosis for your colleagues. Your friends. Now the remainder of the work is in the capable hands of Lt Asher who came in a couple of hours early for gamma shift tonight.

“I need it,” you say, fervent. “This has been a day.”

“I didn’t think I was going to be able to drag you out of Engineering, but now that I have... would you like to get dinner? I think we could both use a decent meal.”

You suddenly realise you’re starving. “Thank you, Captain. I’d like that.” You smile at him, and he grins back, showing his dimples again.

“Call me Chris now we’re off duty,” he says as you reach the turbolift and he pauses to let you go first.

“Sure, Chris,” it comes out easier than it did on Earth in the past, somehow. Maybe you’re used to it.

The Captain’s dining room is spacious, and well appointed. It has a dining table and chairs, and sofa and low table with a vase of fresh flowers beneath a large window, showing the stars going by at warp. The lighting is soft, but a small spotlight highlights a model of the Enterprise on a shelf in the the corner. The overall effect is pleasing, but it seems a little impersonal, somehow. Except maybe the large earthenware pot on the shelf below the miniature ship. That doesn’t seem like the sort of thing a starship designer would put there.

“A traditional Navajo pot,” Chris says, following your gaze. “It’s from California, where I grew up. I don’t eat here often, but even here it’s good to have a reminder of home.”

He heads to the synthesiser. “Is chilli okay? It’s based on a family recipe. But I do keep tweaking it. It’s my go to comfort food, after a day like this.”

“That sounds really good,” you reply, letting him pull out a chair for you and watching as he brings nachos, sour cream, salsa, guacamole and two wine glasses from the synthesiser.

“It’s not beer, but it is real,” he says, opening a cupboard set beneath the synthesiser and withdrawing a bottle of red wine and a corkscrew hanging just inside the door.

He pours you each a glass. “Zinfandel, from California. Another taste of home. Cheers,” he says.

“Cheers,” you reply, clinking your glass and taking a sip. The flavour is bold and you taste berries, with maybe a hint of liquorice and vanilla. “This is good,” you add, taking another sip as he brings the food over.

“Given today, only the best will do,” he gives you a lopsided smile, blue eyes twinkling, and you can’t help but be charmed.

Conversation flows easily over the delicious meal – Pike’s chilli is good, and you tell him so. He tells you about growing up in the desert, and you chat about your former postings, swapping stories of engineering disasters. As the evening wears on you find yourself on the sofa, box of dark chocolate truffles on the table in front of you, with only a couple left. You yawn a little, and catch sight of the chronometer above the synthesiser – when did it get so late?

“Keeping you up past your bedtime?” Chris winks at you, and you grin back, totally at ease.

“You’ve got to admit, it’s been a long day. I can’t help thinking that if those aliens could’ve held off for a few minutes before pulling us through time, I could have finished my diagnostic, and the excitement in Engineering wouldn’t have happened,” you say as you stand.

“You were good, though,” he says, standing with you. “Not many days you can say you saved both the timeline and the ship.”

You feel yourself warming at the praise, and cover it by getting your jacket from where you’d shed it on the back of your chair earlier. Chris helps you put it on, lingering close.

“I believe it’s traditional at the end of the date to walk the lady home, but I’m guessing you can find your way,” he says with another little smile, voice a little deeper.

“Maybe that tradition wouldn’t be appropriate, but I can think of another that would work,” you say, and you feel your heart beating a little faster.

“Yeah?” He asks, his hands on your shoulders, and your eyes linger on his mouth before travelling up to his soft blue eyes.

“Yeah,” you say, and your voice comes out breathy but you don’t mind because he’s drawing you closer, one hand on your back, one hand moving along your jawline. He tilts his head and your hands come up to his chest, feeling the muscle there beneath his shirt. Your eyes flutter closed as his lips find yours and then the ship falls away and it’s just you, him, and the stars making warp trails around you. You gasp slightly and open your mouth, and his tongue brushes yours and you taste chocolate, red wine, and him. Your hands move round his neck as the kiss deepens, and you press against him.

Eventually you break apart, breathing heavily. There’s a slight look of surprise in his eyes, and you think it must be reflected in yours – you didn’t expect your good night kiss to be that intense.

“Well, good night, Chris. Thank you,” you say, fastening your jacket, trying to get a handle on your breathing.

“Dinner tomorrow?” He asks, eyes searching your face. “Maybe, uh... in my quarters?”

“Yes, I’d like that,” you say. “See you tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” he says, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to your fingers, eyes full of promise. You pull your hand away reluctantly, smile, and leave before you can get tempted into anything more. Even though you’d like to you have alpha shift in the morning and he has a whole ship to run.

You wonder what tomorrow will be like. Maybe another unusual day would be a good thing.

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Thursday 14 September 1837

7 40

11 50

Much rain in the night – fine morning F58° at 8 ¾ - then looking over papers till breakfast at 10 10 alone in 20 minutes – A- had Mr. Horner till 10 ½ - then with her emptying the new china closet for about ½ hour – the china to be put into the little room over the north porch door (the old china) for the present – the floor of the new china closet to be taken up to take away the clay from against the drawing room skirting board – out about at the meer at 12 – sauntered about there a little while – then came in again at 1 – with Robert the joiner getting the little tables moved from out of the new china closet – ½ hour with A- till 2 5 when she rode to Cliff – the 1st time since Mrs. AW-‘s illness that A- has gone so late in the day – then with Robert doing up the [ma.] shift china closet and had Mr. Gray a little while till 3 – then wrote the above of today – and from 3 ¼ to 4 ½ wrote 3pp. and one end to M- thanks for her letter received last Tuesday week and her few hurried lines received last night – had thought of writing soon – might have delayed a few days longer but for the urgency of your questions about education in German – I grieve very much over your friends troubles, and wish with all my heart I could help him – the place I was so taken with as a place for study was Göttingen – the university there is of old and deserved celebrity; and I liked the town and all I heard and saw of it; but, as I mentioned to you at the time, the students according to the custom of foreign universities have private lodgings in the town, attend the lectures or not at their own discretion, and are under no collegiate control – How far this might suit the views of England parents, they themselves could alone determine – In 1833, there were only, I believe, one or 2 English families in Göttingen; but Hanover had a whole quartier full; and, at the military college there, there were a great many young Englishmen – Hanover is besides one of the nicest towns on the continent, take it all in all; and the English society was said to be very fair – I have heard that Mrs. Armytage, mother of the present young [bartend] of Kirklees, is gone to Hanover for educational purposes – but one or both parents being with their children makes a great difference – the great difficulty in educating English boys abroad, is to find proper people with whom to board and lodge them; and this difficulty is so great as to be after insurmountable, unless there be some English friend resident on the spot – Foreigners, in general, would not have the same objection to a six-and-twenty bedded room that we should have; and to English people, foreign commons are very often [short] commons – now what you have let the summer so nearly slip away, I have given up the thought of your Rhine-trip for the present -   How nicely Louisa might have helped you to determine whether there was anything educational worth looking after at Bonn! – I almost wish you had been there instead of overwhelming yourself with so much Leamington responsibility – It is melancholy that you should sacrifice your sleep, health and good looks to the printing of prospectus, and the building of school-houses by subscription – But may the event justify your expectation, or rather perhaps your hopes; and may you be more than repaid!’ not to wait for a frank – ‘Parcels always travel safely nowadays – But if you think your plans and rules likely to tempt Adney, do not frighten me by sending them just yet – She has undertaken quite enough; and I should not consent to her attempting anything more – grieve over her useless journey to London – suppose she finds it to stay at home during the great alterations in the house at Lawton ‘we are apparently as far from finishing as ever – when we shall be able to get off, I know not – we have given up talking about it – Is the organ your own proper gift? The Inscription should be merely Presented to the Parish church of Lawton by the Impropriator of the Rectory Charles Bourne Lawton Esquire – would there not be an awkwardness in putting in your own name? But do pray consult your clerical friends who ought to understand these matters much better than I – 7 lines more chitchat – why pity Mrs. Miller (in a family way again) – obliged for news of the N-s Isabella never writes now – ‘Adney’s love – and believe me, my dearest Mary, ever very especially and affectionately yours AL-‘ Had just written all but the first 10 lines and went out at 5 10 – having directed my letter as desired in M-‘s of Monday 4th instant ‘Mrs. Lawton Lawton Hall, Newcastle, Staffordshire’ to go and did go tonight –a  little while with Mr. Gray and Robert Mann in front of the house – Roberts’ men barrowing soil against the flower garden wall in front of the house – and 2 backing up with dry wall Parkinsons’ return wall from the house front wall down the hollow to the laburnum not far from the rocks – 4 of Booths walling up under the lime tree and the walling off the terrace below the lime tree the rest of B-‘s masons hewing pedestals etc Parkinson and c° at the highest terrace wall or box walk – Nelsons’ men at the east wall up to the turret – Joseph Mann and Holmes sinking Listerwick pit and 1 man sinking vent pit by which to get down to the meer-drift clow (inside) – heavy rainy about 5 ¾ - took shelter under the great oak near Charles Howarth then forward to Listerwick pit cabin and took shelter there – the EP. 12 yards deep in water and running over into Long goit – ‘like a beck running into the EP.’ JM- believes it is the dead water – the run at Mytholm EP. 1ft. broad x 2 1/2in. thick is now reduced to 1in. thick – we shall always have this water to pump, if it be the dead water – our present 6in. bore pumps cannot take it – the buckets fitting in take up 2in. in of the 2 each pipes so that the lift = a column of 4in. instead of 6in. – must have 8in. bore pipes – came in at 6 50 – dressed – dinner at 7 ¼ - tea in the dining room – A- having the north parlour locked up and full of the china – she came upstairs about 9 and I, having read the newspaper, at 9 ¾ - sat with A- in her room till 9 55 – then came to my room – slumbered a little then till 10 ½ wrote the last 16 lines – finish day till about near 3pm afterwards repeated showers during the rest of the afternoon and evening F42° now at 10 40 –

[malumsmermaid]

The Truth is Out There

Back at it with another Collab Event headed by Laura and Steff!

Prompt: “Kissing you is all I’ve thought about since the moment we met.”

Event Masterlist         My Masterlist       Buy me a Ko-Fi

My AU was Alien!Malum and I chose to do it as an X-Files AU, but you won’t have had to have watched The X-Files to understand what’s going on, however there are some spoilers.

Sourced some of my information from Cryptid Campfire, specifically the Bigfoot Mountain tome (eps 31-38) and Yuletide Yeti (ep. 63)

Warnings: X-Files Spoilers, male giving/receiving oral

Word Count: 5.4k

One: Missing 4-1-1

After years and years of working on the X Files, Special Agents Fox Mulder and Dana Scully were finally retiring. Over the past couple of years, Fox had been training up a fresh agent he’d met during a guest lecture at the FBI academy. Agent Mulder was there to talk about profiling in “extreme circumstance,” promising that the eager students could ask him questions pertaining to any other topic following lecture related questions. The first agent he called on, Michael Clifford, struck him with the earnest expression on his face as he asked about the X Files Project, but also with his appearance. His hair was dyed black, eyebrow pierced and an earring dangling from his earlobe, reminding him of his late friend, Langley.

The aged agent took to Agent Clifford quickly, taking the young man under his wing and teaching him all he had learned over the past thirty years. The more time he spent with the younger agent, the more he reminded him of Langley. His skill with computers, the clothes he would wear when they met up outside of the office, even a few of the new games he would describe when asked about them sounded like something Langley would’ve enjoyed. But there were also things that were distinctly Michael, which Mulder came to like about the younger agent, taking to him quicker than anyone he had met since the loss of The Lone Gunmen. 

After two years, Mulder and Scully both decided that it was finally time for them to retire, knowing that they were leaving the X Files in good hands. 

The day after Mulder and Scully’s retirement party Michael was back in his office...or rather closet. He’d been officially assigned to the X Files two weeks ago, to help with the transition period before Fox and Dana left. The small room felt strangely empty now that Michael was the only one in there. When the three of them all squeezed in there when Mulder wanted Michael’s opinion on something or over the past two weeks, Michael had found it hard to imagine having to do this before the files were digitized, when filing cabinets jutted out away from the walls. 

He was sitting behind Mulder’s desk, laptop in front of him, the camera covered by a piece of blue masking tape, files that Fox had asked him to go over open on the screen. Michael spent most of the morning fixated on reading through these different cases, only being pulled out of it by a gentle knock on the open door. 

He looked up, pushing his glasses up his nose to see who was interrupting him. His heart fluttered and stomach did a somersault when he laid eyes on the man occupying his doorway. Dark curls, glowing skin, and a jawline that Michael would kill to kiss were all he was able to process before the man had fully entered the room. He approached Michael’s desk, tattooed hand reaching out, “I’m Calum Hood, your new partner.” he stated, waiting for Michael to take his hand.

Michael rose to his feet, office chair rolling into the wall in his haste. “Hell of a way to ask a man out,” he joked as he shook Calum’s hand, lower lip rolling into his mouth when he realized he’d voiced that thought aloud.

Calum let out a good natured laugh at Michael’s response, smile pushing up his round cheeks and crinkling his eyes. Michael let out an anxious, relieved laugh, taking Calum’s hand and shaking it firmly. “So,” Michael started, “what happened to get you sent down here?”

Calum looked at Michael, slightly bewildered, releasing the blonde’s hand and going to lean on Scully’s desk. “Well, I finished up grad school back in May, getting my Masters in Zoology, so I was looking for a job because...student loans. Anyway, a couple weeks after graduation, I was checking my email for any responses from employers. And I found a job offer from the FBI. They said that they anticipated an opening coming up within the next few months and that they needed someone with my expertise to fill it. I didn’t know what they’d need a zoologist for, but I figured it was an offer and it definitely wasn't working at a grocery store and coffee shop to make ends meet, so I took it. Finished up at the academy two weeks ago and this morning while I was getting ready I got a call saying that I was to come here today, that I had been officially assigned to the X Files, and where to find you.”

Michael nodded, “So you’re going to be the Scully to my Mulder then,” he stated confidently. 

Calum hummed, slowly beginning to take in the office, “Suppose I am.” he started, eyes landing on the “I Want to Believe” poster Mulder had left behind. “So, do you really believe in this? Like, how did you end up here?”

Michael chewed his lip, shrinking behind Mulder’s desk. “I mean...I don’t think any of it is improbable. I’m much more interested in cryptids and mythical creatures than aliens and government conspiracies, though Mulder and Scully definitely got plenty of evidence of both of those, even if some of it did end up mysteriously destroyed or disappeared. But it is also hard to argue against aliens, especially with those videos that Tom DeLonge’s organization put out. Mulder claimed to have come across a mothman once, but I doubt that that’s what those creatures were. The description of the one Scully shot doesn’t match up with mothman at all, other than the red eyes. The things they encountered blended in with the forest surrounding them and didn’t fly. Mothman has wings, that’s why he’s called mothman! I just...don’t understand how Mulder came to that conclusion, may have argued with him over it a couple times.”

Michael continued to explain how he’d gotten involved with Mulder, how they’d become friends over the past two years, leading to Mulder requesting that Michael be moved to the X Files before his retirement, ensuring that someone would be able to continue his work under an official capacity, that the X Files wouldn’t become buried under dust like they had been before Mulder came along. “Anyway,” the blonde finally concluded, “I suppose since you’re here now, I should send you some of these files that I’m going through, get another perspective on them and all.”

~~~~~~~~

Later that week Michael met up with Mulder after work. He smiled when the young agent came into the room, inviting him over to their corner table. “So, how’s working as a solo agent going?” Mulder asked once Michael had settled into the open seat.

Michael laughed softly, shaking his head. “I was a solo agent for maybe two hours. Sounds like they were planning for your retirement the second you both started talking about it. Agent Hood is pretty nice though, can’t wait to get more of his thoughts when we actually get out into the field.”

Mulder nodded, mouth twitching into half a smile. “Should’ve known they’d have someone to counteract you ready. He a doctor?” 

“Nah, zoologist. Probably best given my tendencies towards cryptids.”

Michael continued to sit there explaining everything he’d learned about Agent Hood in the past week, skipping out on the part where he found the other man incredibly attractive. Mulder sat there with rapt attention, nodding along as Michael detailed their discussions about the files that Mulder had left for him.

They left the bar a couple of beers later, Mulder giving a stern reminder about not trusting people before they parted, slipping Michael a piece of paper as they gave each other a handshake and hug.

~~~~~~~

After a couple of years working together, Michael and Calum were incredibly close. They were out in the field, staking out the office of a man that they were told would provide a lead on a young boy who’d gone missing in Virginia’s Shenandoah National Park, who Michael believed may have been taken by a bigfoot. Once again, Michael was explaining to Calum how a bigfoot could possibly be the culprit in this situation. 

“Look, there are different variations of bigfoot sighted on every continent except Antarctica. Among them there are three different types of yetis, differentiated by both size and color, in a single mountain range. So I’d say, biologically, it would be safe to assume that in a country as large and differentiated in climates as the US, it makes sense that there would be variations in Sasquatches in different parts of the country. As I’ve mentioned before, the classic bigfoot descriptions that we’ve gotten from the Patterson-Gimlin film and other sightings in the Pacific Northwest are different from sightings in other parts of the country. Generally, East Coast Sasquatches are smaller than their West Coast counterparts, less….thicc, for a lack of a better word, and for some reason ones in Florida are particularly pungent, hence them being called skunk apes.

“There are cases of children who’ve gone missing in the same circumstances this child has, being found in caves or places that they couldn’t have possibly reached in the amount of time they’ve been missing, at least not on their own. And some of those kids say that they were rescued by a large, hairy man, or a bear, like that kid in North Carolina a year or two ago. The question is, do bigfoots see this small, helpless child and take them in to take care of them and set them out where they can be found when they hear searchers nearby, or do they just see them and go “ooh cute” and then the kid wanders away while the bigfoot that picked it up is out foraging.”

“That’s all well and good Michael.” Calum started, a smile playing across his lips at the joke he was about to make, “But couldn’t it just as easily be aliens?”

“It’s plausible.” Michael said, missing Calum’s joke. “There are even some people who actually believe that, because there are occasionally UFO sightings around the same time as a surge in bigfoot sightings, that perhaps bigfoot is extraterrestrial. I personally don’t think that, I think they’re just a terrestrial species we need to protect and study further, maybe they’re just as interested in the strange lights in the sky as we are…...wait there’s our guy.”

Calum looked out the window and across the street, nodding as he spotted the man that had been described to them. He jumped when he realized that Michael was already out of the car and striding across the street. He easily caught up with the blonde, the pair of agents walking side by side as they approached. 

“Hey doc!” Michael called, reaching into his pocket for his badge as the man ahead of them turned, “Federal a--” the man took off, ducking down a side street. “Shit!” Michael broke into a run, tossing the car keys to Calum, “head him off!”

Michael kept up with the man, weaving through the narrow streets, finally catching him when he ran into a dead end. “Please, don’t exterminate me,” the man whimpered, turning to face Michael, hands raised.

Michael stared, momentarily confused until he realized that he was looking at a familiar face. “Hey, no, it’s ok, I’m not the bounty hunter. My name is Agent Clifford, I was told that you could answer some questions I had about the missing child.” Heavy footsteps came from behind him and the alien clone started, brown eyes darting from side to side, looking for an escape. Michael held up his hand, “It’s ok, it’s just my partner, Agent Hood, he doesn’t want to hurt you either, we just need information to find this little boy.”

Calum came to a stop next to Michael, assessing their surroundings before his eyes landed on the man Michael was talking to. Immediately his eyebrows furrowed, “That’s...that’s fuckin me. Mike, why are we looking at me?”

Michael chewed his lip, but there was no denying it. Despite the lack of tattoos, the less defined muscles, and the fact that this man had a mop of curls instead of the buzzcut Calum had been sporting, there was no denying that the man in front of them was a carbon copy of Calum Hood. “Cal,” he said softly, using the same tone he’d had for the clone, “I promise we’ll discuss this later, but right now we need to find the kid, and the man in front of us can help with that.”

Calum swallowed thickly before agreeing, “Yeah, ok. C’mon, let’s get back in your office, Doc, ask you our questions and then get out of your hair.”

~~~~~~~

Two days later they found the young boy, wandering outside an opening in the mountainside when he heard his name being called a hundred feet below. Two rescuers climbed up the sheer face to get the kid, Calum and Michael following, using tree roots for hand holds. The two rescuers rappelled back down once one had the boy safely perched on their back. Michael, meanwhile, went to investigate the small cave, Calum reluctantly following behind. “You know,” he said softly, “if there is something that brought the boy in here, it’s probably not going to be happy if it finds us in its home.”

“Not gonna be here long.” Michael said simply, pushing a little further back.

Calum hummed softly, looking around the small space. Michael called from the back of the cave and Calum ran over, worried that his partner had discovered whatever actually lived in this space. Instead he found Michael crouching at the edge of what appeared to be a bed, made of woven twigs, leaves and down feathers, and much larger than what a five year old would need, or even be able to make, especially in the three and a half days he’d been missing, with the only way in and out of this cave being a 100ft drop. 

“Wow,” Calum whispered.

He pulled out his phone and took a few photos, Michael laying on the stone floor in front of it for reference, ends of the apparent bed extending a few inches beyond Michael’s head and feet on each end. He opened the measuring app, taking screenshots as he got the measurement of the length and width of the nest, 7’6” long and 5’4” wide, for his report later. Once he was done documenting the nest, Michael carefully crawled in, skimming the surface. 

He let out a gasp, quickly pulling an evidence bag from his pocket and carefully picking up a clump of hair. “This is laying on the surface of the nest, not woven in like the rest of the material, which means….” Michael explained excitedly, green eyes gleaming as he looked up at Calum.

Calum smiled, finishing his partner’s sentence, “It came from whatever lives here. That should be good for your theory Mike, now let’s get back down to the camp with everyone else, before Bigfoot makes us his new pet.”

Michael scowled at Calum’s playful tone, but carefully crawled out of the nest, examining the cave one more time as they slowly exited, hooking back into the ropes and rappelling back down, picking their way through the brush and back onto the trail. They caught back up with the two rescuers they were with, who had already radioed ahead that they had the boy, so everyone should be heading back in too. They made it back to camp after half an hour of walking down the trail, the young boy halfway to falling asleep on the rescuer’s shoulders until his parents cried out upon seeing them appear at the edge of the treeline. They set him down and he ran to his parents, letting them scoop him up and cover his face with anxious kisses. Michael and Calum both smiling as they watched the reunion. The family climbed into the ambulance to go to the hospital so their son could get checked out, one of their friends following in the car, but he seemed perfectly fine. 

~~~~~~~

Once all the volunteers were accounted for, Calum and Michael got in their car and drove back to their cabin, where they’d stay one more night before returning to the Pentagon in the morning. Calum cooked up some pancakes in the small kitchenette and they sat on the edge of his bed to eat. “So…” Calum started, “We still need to talk about why our informant was...y’know...me, but not.”

Michael nodded, swallowing his syrup soaked bite of pancake. “So, you don’t have any recollection either in your childhood or during college, of missing any time? No strangely realistic dreams that poke at the back of your mind?” 

Calum stared into the distance, pensieve expression on his face as he dragged a piece of pancake through the extra syrup. Finally he spoke, “There is a night, during finals in undergrad. I remember leaving the library, and then I remember waking up on my dorm room floor, nothing in between. It was probably about 1am when I left the campus library to go home, and then 7am when my roommate’s alarm went off so he could get ready for his first exam. He didn’t remember me coming in either.”

Michael nodded slowly, setting his plate aside and going into the kitchen to rinse his syrupy fingers. “Lemme see something,” he said softly, crouching behind Calum on the mattress.

He nodded and Michael carefully ran his fingers over the back of Calum’s neck, gasping when he found a little bump just under the skin. “What is it?” Calum asked softly.

“I think it’s the same thing that Scully found after she was returned.” Michael explained softly, “Whatever it is, we’re not taking it out.” He added firmly.

“So...you think that maybe I’ve been taken?”

“It seems that way, nothing else explains why you’ve got a clone running around.”

Calum nodded, about to say something else when Michael’s phone rang. He frowned at the screen, not recognizing the number, but answered, “Agent Clifford.” His face grew panicked as he listened to the person on the other end. “We’ll be right there.” he stated before hanging up. “Your clone is in trouble.” he stated, stepping into his shoes and grabbing the keys, Calum following after him, shoes in hand.

He sped through the mountainside town, skidding to a halt in front of the office where they’d waited a few days before. Instead of sitting in the car this time, they ran through the front door. They split up to search the rooms, Michael finding the hybrid cowering beneath a desk. Michael crouched on the floor by him, softly trying to hatch a plan to get him out of there safely when there came the sound of a scuffle in the next room. Michael smacked himself in the head, “Fuck, Calum looks like you, shit. Okay, look, I’m going to go distract the bounty hunter and save Cal, get out of here.” 

The hybrid nodded, slipping out of the room after Michael, going the opposite direction of the commotion as Michael slipped the silver needle out of his pocket. He entered the room the noise was coming from, seeing Calum pinning the bounty hunter to the floor. He swallowed, calming his nerves slightly, clicking the handle of the needle. The soft “pft” that the needle made as it appeared from the handle caught the attention of the bounty hunter, looking up from where Calum was holding him down, struggling further against the agent atop him. Michael stepped further into the room, raising his hand with the needle in it, slowly waving it as he said “This is not the man you are looking for.”

“Michael, for fucks sake” Calum groaned.

“Oh I’m sorry, I don’t plan to run into another Calum clone out in the world and see them get fucking murked!” Michael exclaimed, before turning his attention back to the bounty hunter, “Look, this guy is who they sourced the human DNA from for the clone you’re after. And if you’re after him because of us, he didn’t tell us about whatever he’s working on, just how to find a lost kid. So...Calum, run on three.”

Calum stared, but listened, Michael counting down as the bounty hunter stared. Calum dropped him right when Michael said three, scrambling from the room. Before he had time to react, Michael was on the bounty hunter, pushing the needle into the back of the man’s neck, pulling his shirt over his nose and mouth as the neon green substance began to bubble from the wound. He pulled the needle out as more green goo frothed forth and ran from the room and down to the car, where Calum was waiting. As soon as Michael closed the door Calum sped off back to the hotel. “One Calum makes me flustered enough as is,” Michael muttered, clicking his seatbelt, “Two? Fucking nightmare for my sanity. At least he doesn’t act like you too.”

Calum tried to ignore what Michael was saying, heart racing from what he was going to pretend was the fight he’d just been in. “Where do you think he’s going to go?” Calum asked softly after a moment.

Michael shrugged, slouching down in his seat. “Hopefully somewhere safe, skipped town if he’s as smart as the man he came from.”

Calum was thankful for the darkness as he continued to drive, cheeks turning pink. 

He pulled back into their space in front of the cabin, nudging Michael before he got out of the car. He took a deep breath, smiling at the scent of honeysuckle filling the air from the bushes nearby. He heard Michael’s door close and turned to look at the blonde, smile on his face. “We going in?” Michael asked, tilting his head toward the cabin door.

Calum nodded, licking his lips as he slowly made his way up the gravel path towards the cabin. The plates of half-eaten pancakes still sat on Calum’s bed, probably extra soggy and cold by now. He hummed, kicking off his shoes as Michael came in, closing the door behind him. Calum glanced back saying, “Hey, thanks for saving my life back there…”

Michael hummed, stepping out of his own shoes, “You seemed like you had it pretty under control when I came in.”

Calum scoffed, turning around and taking Michael’s face in his hands, searching the blonde’s face for half a second before leaning in and kissing him deeply. Michael hummed, kissing him back immediately, long arms wrapping around Calum’s broad shoulders. Calum pulled away after a minute, licking his lips, savoring the taste of Michael on them before he whispered, “Kissing you is all I’ve thought about since the moment we met. Figured now was as good a time as ever.” 

Michael nodded slowly, leaning his forehead on Calum’s. “Anytime would’ve been perfect by me, so long as it actually happened.”

Calum laughed softly, leaning in and kissing Michael again. “Any other way you’d like me to show my gratitude?” he teased softly, a hand making its way down Michael’s arm.

Michael leaned into Calum’s touch, letting out a gentle whine. Calum hummed, pressing a light, experimental kiss to Michael’s neck, fingers reaching to pull at the hem of Michael’s shirt. Michael let him remove it, hands landing on Calum’s bare biceps as Calum stared at Michael in awe, eyes exploring the blonde’s bare torso in a new way. 

Calum’s hands began to explore the expanse of pale skin, fingertips gingerly tracing the tops of his hip bones, hovering over the waistband of his jeans. Michael let out an impatient whimper, wrenching the hem of Calum’s black tank top from where it was tucked into his slacks. Calum let out a small grunt of affirmation, reaching behind him and tugging the shirt over his head, tossing it to the side. Hunger consumed him, pressing his chest to Michael’s, feeling the slighter man bounce slightly as his back met the cabin wall. He leaned in, holding Michael in a sucking kiss, one hand firmly on his waist while the other tangled in the messy blonde hair. 

He pulled out of the kiss after a minute, barely breathing as he let his lips trace Michael’s jaw, coming to rest by his ear, teasingly sucking the lobe between his lips, giving it a gentle tug. Michael was softly keening, fingers weakly pulling at Calum’s muscular arms, trying to urge him to the floor in front of him. Calum let out a low chuckle, voice a rasp in Michael’s ear, “Lucky we got ourselves together the one time we’re not in a shitty motel with paper for walls, huh Mikey?”

Michael let out a whine, hips pressing forward as Calum worked at the blonde’s zipper, shimmying the black denim down Michael’s thighs to his knees. His lips traveled Michael’s chest as his hands nimbly pulled at his own belt, loosening it and removing his slacks, kicking them to lay near his tank top. Meanwhile, Michael had continued to work his own pants down his legs, leaving them pooled around his ankles. 

Calum gave Michael a small smile, leaning in for a soft kiss before sinking to his knees on the wooden floor. Michael stared, green eyes wide as Calum’s lips travelled up his pale thighs, fingers tracing circles over the soft cotton boxers. Finally, Calum removed the last piece of fabric concealing Michael from him. He licked his lips as he watched the hardened length spring forth from beneath the fabric that now pooled at Michael’s ankles. 

Michael whined, bucking into Calum’s hand as he took hold of him, left arm wrapping around the backs of Michael’s thighs for support as he teasingly flicked his tongue against Michael’s tip. The salty taste of him made Calum lose what little composure and control he had planned to have, letting out a gentle moan as he ran his tongue over Michael’s tip again. “Like how I taste, Cal?” Michael attempted to taunt, but his voice came out clearly breathless, Calum’s lips wrapping around him like it was all they were ever meant for.

Calum easily took Michael in his mouth, slowly bobbing his head up and down the length, tongue working over it naturally. His hand stayed at the base of Michael’s cock, but when he pulled his mouth off of him to catch his breath for a moment, curiosity struck, removing his hand from Michael, who bucked his hips forward in protest, until Calum’s hand cupped his balls, fingers fondling him and causing a higher moan to leave his mouth. Calum continued this new strategy for another moment, taking deep breaths before finally returning his mouth to Michael’s length, this time relaxing fully and taking him all the way down. 

Michael made a noise that almost sounded like a strangled scream, blunt fingernails digging into Calum’s scalp as he searched for hair to grip. That thought alone was enough for Calum to consider growing his hair out again, solely for Michael. He continued his work, Michael now thrusting shallowly as Calum continued to bob his head. “Please, Cal…” he whimpered out, hips jumping again as Calum’s brown eyes met his green.

He held his head still, letting Michael grip the back of his head as he began to fuck Calum’s mouth, Calum letting out a muffled moan at the thought of Michael using him like this. He unwound his left arm from behind Michael’s thighs now, pushing his boxers down enough to free his own length. He used his thumb to spread the arousal leaking from his tip over himself, trying not to move as he finally began to give his own cock the attention it had been aching for. 

His brown eyes closed, wanting desperately to cry out for Michael, an action made impossible by the other man’s cock brushing the back of his throat. “Look so pretty like this, mouth full and...fuucck…” Michael gasped, continuing to grip at the back of Calum’s head with one hand, the fingers of the other digging into his shoulder. 

His thrusts quickened, and Calum could tell that Michael was chasing his orgasm now, readying himself. His whines of Calum’s name grew higher in pitch and more frequent before he finally came apart, his thrusts shallow as he filled Calum’s mouth. Calum’s eyes fluttered, letting Michael work himself through, swallowing what he was given. 

Once he was finished he pulled out of Calum’s mouth before collapsing on top of him, his breathing labored. Calum held him, letting him recover while he sat back on his heels. He pressed gentle kisses to Michael’s cheeks, neck, chest, fingers running through sweat-damp blonde hair. Michael stirred slightly, head lifting and resting against Calum’s shoulder. “I’d offer to return the favor,” he slurred out, “but I’m kinda gone...wow baby,” fucked out mind testing a theory he’d been building based off of how Calum reacted when he was complimented, both for work and on his talents.

Calum preened at the praise and pet name, giving more fuel to Michael’s theory. He sat Michael against the wall, tucking his own aching, still hard, member back into his boxers and getting back to his feet. He scooped Michael into his arms, carrying him to the bed and tucking blankets around his frame. He whined as Calum fixed his hair, arms working out of the blankets to reach for him. Calum smiled, taking a hand and kissing his knuckles, “Just gonna clean up the cottage and then we can snuggle. I’ll take up your offer for our morning shower. Would suggest taking the scenic route home if we weren’t expected at work.” 

Michael whined at the suggestive wink Calum gave him before he went to pick up the piles of clothes, tucking them into their respective suitcases before he picked up the plates from what had been his bed all weekend. He scraped the syrup soaked pancakes into the trash and set the plates in the sink to soak, bagging the extra pancakes and putting them in the fridge. 

Everything straightened up he made his way to the bed, flicking the lightswitch before he crawled under the sheets. Michael was already half asleep when Calum pulled him to his chest, laying on his back and staring at the ceiling. He smiled at the feeling of Michael shuffling his body closer, rubbing his shoulder as Michael flung his arm over him, “G’night Calum.” he whispered, scared of breaking the moment, of waking up and being in separate beds again.

“Good night, Mike,” Calum returned, smile on his face as Michael’s breathing slowed, letting himself drift off as well.

~~~~~~

Calum woke the next morning to Michael’s fingers trailing the ink on his chest. He smiled, it was rare that the morning after the conclusion of a case that he’d be the one to wake first. Usually Michael would be just beginning the process of getting out of bed by the time Calum was out of the shower and dressed, blonde hair sticking up in all directions. 

Calum squeezed Michael’s shoulders, causing the blonde to look up at him, green eyes suddenly bashful. “Cal,” he started softly, fingers continuing to trace the patterns in his skin. “We need to talk about last night.” Calum raised a thick eyebrow, brown eyes concerned. “Not...not the kissing and the blowjob part, that’s still...that’s great, I love that and I’m still on for shower reparations if you are...the...the before that, before your...you called.”

Calum smiled, relief filling his chest as he nodded, hand resting on top of Michael’s, before apprehension began to flutter back in. “Yeah...we do. What are we gonna say about that? We do have to include...him, in the report.”

Michael sighed, glancing at Calum’s hand atop his before he said, “I’m gonna give you some of the files on Scully when we get back. Need you to know why you can’t take that thing out of you. I don’t think I could watch you go through that, especially not now. I wanna do everything in my power to find out why that happened to you, if it’s what led to you being here, working with me. And I’m going to make sure they don’t try and take you again, not when I’m here.” Calum shushed him, reaching out to rub his cheek gently. “Hey, it’s ok, I trust you, right? I’ll do whatever you say is best. And no need to put all that on yourself, I’m here, partners, right?”

Michael smiled, nodding and leaning up and pressing a kiss to Calum’s lips, “Partners.” he affirmed with a smile.

Taglist: @irwinkitten @calpops @goth5sos @empathycth @wildflowergrae @talkfastromance4 @maluminspace @notinthesameguey @cashtonasfuck @sexgodashton @castaway-cashton @afihemmings @treatallwithkindness @theyorthemrecords @another-lonely-heart @ghostofmashton @opheliaaurora23 @loxerofmine @youngblood199456

Micheal Taglist: @adoringlrh @koalacal @lashtonswildflower  @loveroflrh​ @valyntlne​

Calum Taglist: @daisyangei​ @califl0wer @angelicfluffs​

Slash Taglist: @tigerteeff​

To Be Added to my TagList

[kirkfan2255]

I listen to Red Web at work and to say that I was ecstatic that today’s episode was on Bigfoot was.....an understatement. I LOVED this episode! It was SO funny at points, like I was dying of laughter. And as soon as I finished the ep, I wanted to listen to it again (I’m doing it right now actually). But I also am a bit of a Bigfoot nerd and I have Thoughts:tm: (under the cut for length)

So I think my biggest takeaway about supernatural/paranormal/cryptids in general was echoed by Trevor at the end of the ep: we/I want to believe, and sometimes we take facts in retrospect to make it fit. Which isn’t a bad thing! That’s how anthropology in general sometimes has to work, where you look at history, at the pieces left behind, to paint a picture of what was occurring in a specific place. But it can also mean that your confirmation bias comes out, which they discussed near the end of the Gigantopithecus theory. I personally want to believe; but I also think that there’s a lot of bias in Bigfoot research. And I think that’s down to the larger scientific community not looking into it more.

So my general thoughts are: if Bigfoot is real, we do need to discover evidence. If they are burying their dead, where are these burial sites? Can we go to where known Bigfoot sightings have occurred (as they did with the location of the Patterson-Gimlin film after it was shot) and look for clues of where the creature came from and where it was going? Would we find sites there? I think for all that we have explored all of the land and know it fairly well, there’s also still large swaths of land that still haven’t been taken with a fine-tooth comb.

Speaking from a geographer’s viewpoint, our satellite imagery and aerial photography has come a very, very long way, but you still only get to a certain resolution before it just can’t pick up all those fine details. And believe me when I say that you still don’t pick up people unless you’re VERY close. Animals can hide just as well, so who’s to say Bigfoot can’t evade it as well?

As for a few specific things:

One of the things about Bob Heironimus, who was the man purported to be in the suit during the filming of the Patterson-Gimlin film, is that he did a very, very convincing mimic of the walk in the film. But you can’t fake your knees. Heironimus was several inches shorter than the creature in the film was estimated to be (just over a foot shorter, about 14 inches), and based on where the creature’s legs are and where it bends, you can’t have a man in a suit with Heironimus’ proportions look realistic. And the PGF has never been fully debunked! There’s a TON of different filmmakers who have examined it, some debunking and some believing, but NONE of them can explain every single detail.

If you want to learn more about the PGF and all the efforts that have gone in to debunking it, I would love to direct your attention to Astonishing Legends; they did an amazing, super detailed, extremely in-depth analysis of the PGF, to the point where it is 6 parts at about 3 hours each. They’re all worth the listen, but especially parts 1, 3, and 6, which are the introduction, the talk about the hoax claims and costuming, and their conclusions and an interview with Bob Gimlin, currently the only surviving direct witness to the event.

The other thing is about the bears theory. I live in Wisconsin, and have worked with the DNR. We have bears, and I know how bears tend to function. I find it HIGHLY skeptical that everyone is seeing bears. If you’ve never seen a bear, they tend to be on four legs most of the time. They can stand up on their hind legs and even walk to a certain extent, but not to the point where you’d confuse them with an ape-like creature. You’d also have to have a very, very well-trained bear that can last on its hind legs that long *and* move as fast as Bigfoot is said to. I just really don’t believe that a bear can do that. Beyond that, their front legs are shorter, and while I could see bear skids in mud looking like Bigfoot tracks, bear prints have visible claw marks, just as you do with dogs, because they don’t have retractable claws. As far as I am aware, no Bigfoot track has ever been cast with claw prints.

Bears, especially the more prominent black bears that live in the lower United States, don’t generally tend to confront humans. This is definitely in line with reported Bigfoot behavior; when they encounter a person, they tend to leave instead of engage. Though, I should also note that grizzly bears, which stay much more in Canada and Alaska than the Pacific Northwest, are more aggressive than black bears, and are more likely to charge at you when encountered. But bears don’t throw rocks, which is a reported Bigfoot phenomena, and if they’re going to run or charge you? They’re getting down on all fours. You’re not going to watch a bear walk off on its hind legs.

Also the ‘Bigfoot is an alien’ theory is my FAVORITE Bigfoot theory (even if I don’t believe it’s true) and you can pry that from my cold dead hands.

[mae-gi-writes]

Deobi Playlist (EP 2) | The Boyz Imagine

The Boyz x Hospital Playlist inspired drabble series.

Episode 2: in which Hyunjae is a drama queen.

Genre: fluff, friendship, slice of life

EP 1 | EP 2 | EP 3 | EP 4 | EP 5 | EP 6 | EP 7 | EP 8 | EP 9 | EP 10 | EP 11

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

Hyunjae is in the middle of playing a battle game when the sound of someone busting the door open causes him to yelp, fingers slipping over the keyboard as he watches his character die in front of his very eyes. 

He swivels around in his seat, glowering with anger, “KEVIN!” 

“Oops,” the said man slides in, totally unfazed by the glare that would’ve killed anyone else off, before looking around at the empty office that is stacked with piles of paperwork, most of them probably belonging to Hyunjae since he had always been messy. 

“Where’s everyone?” Kevin frowns while checking his watch, “I thought we were having dinner tonight.” 

“Too slow, romeo,” a voice chimes from behind. The pair turn around to see Mae holding up three takeaway bags. Kevin squeals in delight, rushing over to throw his arms around her in a hug.

“You are the best,” Kevin singsongs before grabbing one of the bags. Mae tuts at him, “woah wait a minute Kev, that’s not--” 

Too late, for Kevin’s hands have already opened up the box. He stares at the multitudes of shrimp on a bed of fried noodles, and a grimace falls over his face, “ew no, that’s not mine--”

Mae proceeds to snatch it away, “that’s why I told you to wait,” she huffs, handing him his rightful dish; fried pork and vegetables with rice. 

“Wouldn’t mind having him choke on some shrimp,” Hyunjae mutters gloomily, still sulking in his desk chair like a five year old child being denied cookies. Mae’s brow quirks up in curious amusement, before they flicker towards Kevin. 

The latter, already stuffing his face in like he hasn’t eaten for days, mumbles out through a mouthful of rice and meat, “he’s mad ‘cause I distracted him and his character died. The usual.” 

“You always lose, anyway Hyunjae. It wouldn’t have made a difference,” Mae opens up her own takeaway, a Chinese Korean dish named Jajangmyeon. She motions him over, “come on.” 

But Hyunjae’s pout only deepens. He slides into his seat, unwavering.

“You sure you don’t want it?” she taunts him, “I ordered it specially for you.” 

Still, the caramel-haired man twists his head away adamantly. Mae huffs, turning back to roll her eyes at Kevin, “fine then, suit yourself. I’ll just--” 

Hyunjae’s out of his seat in mere milliseconds, grab his dish, and sits down onto the shared couch with crossed legs and face looking as though he’s going to murder anyone who even tries to get within touching distance. 

“By the way, you remember the patient I was telling you guys about?” Kevin says, chewing on a mouthful of food, “the one that had a weird extra bone in her foot?” 

“The one who kept asking you to marry her?” Mae confirms. 

“She mustn't have high standards,” comes Hyunjae’s mumble, causing Kevin to cluck his tongue at him in disapproval before answering, “yeah, we had to shave it off cause she’s a rising ballet star. Her mother was livid when she heard that she wouldn’t be able to dance for a good six months.” 

“Sunji, was it?” Mae asks. 

“She came to see me today,” Kevin beamed, warmth practically alighting over his face, “gave me flowers and a box of chocolate.” 

“Did she give you a ring too?” Hyunjae adds mockingly.

“At least she likes me,” Kevin retorts while sticking out his tongue.

“Please! It’s not like she had a choice. You’re the only doctor she sees.” 

"Just a game, Hyunjae," Kevin reminds him, gesturing towards the computer with a roll of his eyes since he knows exactly why the older man is being salty at this particular moment. 

“Do you know how much time and effort I took into staying alive all that time?!” Hyunjae shoots back, leaning forward in his seat, “It was my fifteenth time!” 

“It. Is. Just. A. Game,” Kevin���s words punch through like staccato notes.

“I care about that game, like it or not!” Hyunjae moans, “now my life is over!” 

“Shakespeare needs to see this,” Mae mumbles behind her bowl of noodles, “he would’ve loved to write a story about you.” 

“I think that’s the greatest compliment you’ve ever given me,” Hyunjae smirks.

“It’s...not a compliment.” 

“I hate you. I hate you both,” Hyunjae sniffs before pouting and looking away, once again the very picture of a spoiled brat. The pair meet each other’s eyes before Kevin throws Mae a shrug. 

“Don’t look at me, I didn’t raise him.” 

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

The week, it seems, keeps getting worse for the titled drama queen, who proclaims that the heavens must be against him this week and that his astrological must be definitely off balance. Hyunjae’s shifts seem longer, tougher to handle this week, while the line of patients have suddenly multiplied by a tenfold the moment he thought that he could use a bit of a break. A few nurses have taken some time off for some last-minute vacation, meaning that he’s had to scramble around for help with no assistant by his side to jot down his every day needs. 

Most of all, he still hasn’t been able to finish that damn game, and he has no one else to blame but dear Kevin for that. 

“You look like shit,” is the first thing that pops out of Juyeon’s mouth the moment he stumbles into their shared office. He’s looking particularly dapper, with his freshly cut bangs and his usually hooded eyes alight with a sparkle that can only mean one thing:

“Did you guys kiss or something?” 

Colour blossoms across Juyeon’s cheeks, hooded eyes widening in alarm, “What?” 

Seemingly undisturbed by lack of sensitivity, Hyunjae proceeds to shrug off his beige coat as he opens his locker, “you look like freshly snogged material." 

“I--That’s--That’s not--” Hyunjae can’t help but smirk at the flustered expression on the younger man’s usually bland face. One of his favourite pastimes is to make fun of Juyeon, mainly because he seems so much younger than what he appears to be, for they are only a few months apart in age. Not to forget the fact that he's so innocent, despite his mature, bedroom eyes and the lazy, sensual smile he gives to women. It's, as Hyunjae had once stated, incredibly misleading.

"Want to shadow my surgery?" Hyunjae asks, picking up his clipboard to scan the patient's profile. The younger man stretches out in his seat and yawned, "what kind?" 

"Brain tumor I believe."

"Hm, I might shadow noona--"

"Oh right, loverboy's got a girlfriend now," Hyunjae rolls his eyes and lets out a soft sigh, "ah well, I'll just get one of the newbies on board. I love teasing them."

"They're all scared of you, you know," Juyeon can't help but point out.

"Oh really?" Hyunjae flashes a wicked grin.

Juyeon proceeds to roll his eyes, "that is not a compliment."

"You know, Mae said the exact same thing."

"No surprise there."

A few hours and a long trail of patients later, Hyunjae lets out a loud, noisy sigh when he finally allows his body to flop in his office chair, his feet aching from constantly running back and forth between wards. Mondays are always especially tiring, but he's quite satisfied that most of his patients seem on the track to recovery. 

His hand quickly darts towards his mouse, when his phone suddenly rings. 

Pressing the device to his ear, he murmurs out a quiet, "hello?"

"Son," his mother's terse soprano echoes through the receiver, "how are you?"

"Are you stressed, Ma?" Is the first thing that pops into his mind. There's only two reasons why his mother would call; either 1) she wants to give him food or 2) she has fought with his father yet again. 

It is no secret that Mr. And Mrs. Lee have been living apart for more than seven years now. The scar that Hyunjae still bears is now covered by nonchalance, and the fact that his two parents have kept an amiable relationship has helped balance out his upbringing. He has to admit that for a child with divorced parents, they handled him pretty well.

"Can't I call to ask about my son?!" Mrs.Lee retorts back. 

"Ma."

"Alright alright," she huffs, "I might have made some extra Kimchi stew and--"

"Ma, I told you not to cook so much," Hyunjae groans, one of his hands going up to ruffle his hair, "can't you just freeze it?"

"Freeze Kimchi Stew? Are you insane? I would never! Anyway, I already let the leftovers with--"

Knock knock!

Hyunjae glances back just in time to spot Mae standing in the doorway,  holding out a cooler towards him. 

"Ah," Hyunjae gestures for her to come in, "you met Mae?"

"Right right! Such a wonderful girl that one! Are you sure you've never had anything for her?" 

"Ma--"

"No no, if you're going to tell me that you're just friends, I don't want to hear it."

"Listen Ma, she's--"

"I can't believe you didn't even try it out with her--"

"Hey Ma, I got a surgery soon," Hyunjae hurriedly says while watching Mae stuff the cooler inside the fridge he shares with Juyeon and two other doctors. He holds out a finger for her to wait, "I'll talk to you soon  okay? Okay. Bye."

Cutting off the call right before she's about to keep on insisting how amazing Mae would be as a wife, Hyunjae lets out another trepid sigh before shaking his head at the said woman, who's gazing at him with raised eyebrows. 

"My mother really wants me to go out with you," Hyunjae rubs a hand over his face, clipboard in hand, before following her out into the corridor.

"Yeah I know, she told me the exact same thing when I bumped into her in the lobby," Mae shoves her hands in her pockets, smiling slightly. 

"I mean, if you weren't so much into Kevin, maybe--"

He doesn't get to say anything more because of Mae's hand slamming down atop his mouth. He groans in part pain and part protest, "that hurts!"

"I should've sewn your lips shut when I still had the chance," Mae hissed under her breath, careful to drop her hand and smile as they pass by a group of older doctors. 

"You guys are like turtles. By the time you ask him out, you'll both be dead," Hyunjae mutters loud enough for Mae to hear. 

She scowls back, "last I checked, I was the only one who decided what I could and could not do with my love life."

"You're doing a terrible job of it."

"I am not!"

"Okay, then where are the four children you said you wanted!? That's all you could talk about in college!"

"I was young and stupid, as were you."

"Ah, to be young and in love again--"

"Hyunjae?" 

The pair turn instinctively towards the sound only to fall upon a familiar face, a face that Hyunjae remembers almost instantly as one of the girls who had pined after him for years' on end. He briefly recalls breaking her heart once and for all when she'd decided to give him a box of chocolates during their second year Valentines. 

"Oh," Mae seems to be thinking the same thing as he does, for she doesn't waste time to smile up at him, clap him on the back and say, "see you then!" 

 And she's off, running down the hallway and leaving him to deal with the awkward aftermath of a rejected confession. 

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

I honestly just love Hyunjae because he's so loud and annoying and straight up transparent. Surprisingly, I wasn't attracted to his physique as much as I was to his natural genuine personality.

Hope you enjoyed this one! Next Ep will be out on Monday!

Episode 3: in which Juyeon has a complicated relationship with food.

[quinintheclouds]

Thoughts on Putting Others First: SvS Redux as they come to me

AN HOUR LONG?!?!?! Y E S THANK YOU

I am LOVING this opening art style. The way it shows all the things Thomas could say and shuts them each down, the silliness tying in perfectly to the video game setting, the way we could SO STRONGLY empathize with Thomas despite him not saying anything. Well done!

“Eff friends, Patton!” Patton and I made the exact same gasp and noise at the same time in reaction to that dsjfhljdhg

Lookit Thomas’ lil vest awww <3

ROMAN WITH THE PUNS I LOVE IT APPRECIATE HIM

rhymes

rhymes

they’re rhyming is this gonna be

A SONG!!!

(Logan off somewhere watching all of this: “You guys are doing a RAP? Without ME? .....Unacceptable”)

Seriously poor Logan being left out BOTH TIMES despite clearly having excellent points on the matter

But I’m loving this Patton/Roman dynamic being explored in this way. They have a lotta similarities but the differences are really standing OUT so far and I like it! Also it looks like Roman isn’t gonna just shut up and do whatever Patton says out of fear that he’s a bad person/bad for Thomas this time. I’m glad they’re both getting a chance to talk cause they aren’t exactly taken seriously a lot of the time.

RETURN OF THE BLINDFOLD METAPHOR followed by Roman saying “in Patton’s defense...” so they like, KNOW what Deceit meant about the blindfold? Were they playing dumb? Or do they just suddenly get it now that it’s coming from Thomas?

Ok this Feral Cat Story of Roman’s is too specific for me to dismiss and now I’m convinced either Remus brought a shitton of cats home one day and they just flooded their house/rooms, or Patton brought home a bunch of cats out of love and didn’t realize he couldn’t take care of em...either way that’s an adorable anecdote

The car jump line that Patton took literally is just making me miss Logan even more :(

I’m glad they’re giving context to the relationship between Thomas and Mary Lee & Lee! A lot of fander questions and opinions circled back to “well it depends how close they were” so it was smart of them to fill us in.

“those baby-makin’ catholics”

6:45 Patton has clearly thought through a lot of possible outcomes to talking to Lee and Mary Lee before going to the wedding... he never brought them up, even when Roman did and then Deceit did. But he’s bringing up points no one had addressed, and I think that’s a great way to put more intensity to Patton’s apology to Thomas for lying back in SvS pt 1. He hid a lot more than he let on. Man, how much guilt is this poor man feeling right now? :(

“Talking about it could have been harmful” I’m very intrigued by the parallels between Patton wanting to keep things from Thomas’ friends to protect their feelings in this episode and SvS, and Deceit disguised as Patton in CLBG trying to get Thomas to... keep things from his friend to protect their feelings...

WOAH “But was it worth it? I don’t--” “No.” Thomas cutting Roman off with that much certainty DAMN Thomas REGRETS going to the wedding HARD and also is agreeing with Roman finally??

Patton: “sometimes you can make all the good choices, and still not get the good ending.” Thomas: “I’m not even sure there was a good ending to get.” Roman: “Mmmm, I’m pretty sure there was.” There is so much to unpack here oh my gosh.

WOAH WOAH WOAH WHAT??? DAMN THOMAS CAME FOR PATTON WHAT ON EARTH??? Patton: “I think we can all agree that you are a good fellow.” Thomas: Can we? ALL? Agree on that?” Patton: *sputtering noises*

Poor Patton... I mean they’re right but gosh I feel for him. He wants so badly for Thomas to be a good person and he realizes now how strict and unyielding he’s been, and wants to not do that but doesn’t know how to be more lenient without sacrificing integrity cause that’s his JOB and he doesn’t know how to do it better aaaa this is such a mood

MUSIC IS THERE ANOTHER SONG COMING?

Return of the bagel. Except this time it’s Roman guessing/wanting the bagel and Patton being like “what? no?”

ok not a song but video game style is back!!

“ugh you’re such a dad” I love it

Patton just made more puns and Roman omg “Like, you’re SUCH a dad that like it’s too much to handle sometimes”

I am loving this whole scene jdfhjadshg Patton ily and I relate

Thomas and Roman teaching Patton how to come up with imaginary scenarios skjfklsjdfh

Sondheim wrecking Leslie Odom Jr is such a hilarious visual

Ok all three of them are peak dumbass and I’m so here for it (like they’re smart and all but they’re peak dumbass)

Daaaamn Patton is letting out so much this episode. Like he’s been holding back but wowie. R: “Just like how you didn’t HAVE to give him a hotdog” P: *sucks air through his teeth* “I feel like you kinda do though?” YES PLEASE let’s discuss the concept of obligation in morality again!!! Where’s Logan when you need him? Or Deceit even? (I feel like D’s gonna show up later but I wanna hear Logan’s thoughts this time too)

Patton: You can disagree! But... it’d kinda be wrong?

LOGAN POPUP! Ok fine if he isn’t in the ep at least he pops up in a lil dialogue box on screen. Also he popped up to support Patton... neat!

“It’s just me, Logan. I’ve taken this form because I didn’t want to be too...invasive.” POOR LOGAN NO YOU’RE NOT INVADING ANYTHING YOU HAVE EVERY RIGHT TO BE HERE! Also Roman getting scared by the popup while Patton just waves happily like he always does upon seeing Logan aww

Okay I am getting serious DOPAMINE from Logan talking. Like, he’s spittin’ FACTS. Something about the way he talks is so interesting and soothing and makes me so excited to LEARN. Roman mockingly mouthing ‘behoove’ had me snort though XD

LOGAN AND I WERE IN UNISON HELL YEAH! Patton was all like ooh you’re sharing your lil factoids! And Logan and I at the same time corrected, “Facts,” and proceeded to state the definition of factoids (we worded it differently but yeah as usual Logan is on my wavelength)

Logan’s sprite getting so disappointed at Thomas’ interruption joke jgdkjghks he looks so DONE

OML I LOVE LOGAN’S DIALOGUE BOX TALKING TOO FAST FOR THEM TO READ THIS IS SO ACCURATE

Oof Thomas finally feeling like he GETS it and Patton being like yeah but not if you’re doing it bc you want to feel  good tho... (also that’s the same argument Deceit made in SvS pt1??? I’m confused by Patton/Deceit’s functions lately and I’m very invested)

Oh ok Thomas just brought up that very point haha

“we all agreed the right thing to do was go to the wedding” um are u sure about that

“I was wrong” PATTON CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT?? I know Logan has the reputation of not being able to admit when he’s wrong (which isn’t true -- he doesn’t like to but he has done so countless times...well not literally countless but you understand my meaning), but Patton rarely is in a situation where he has to, so this is jarring in a hopefully good way. Istg if this is Deceit disguised as Patton again I’ll be so disappointed... I feel like the writers wouldn’t do that though

Patton: says smth deceit said. Roman: and you...agree? Patton: Definitely! I mean uh maybe? (WHAT IS HAPPENING INSIDE PATTON’S HEAD RN SO MUCH TURMOIL)

Roman: “I’m not an expert in the... moral medium” Thomas:  “Go ahead Roman, we wanna hear what you have to say.”  Patton: *halfhearted gestures and noises for roman to go ahead* jashfjdh he’s trying so hard

AWWWW they’re validating Roman so much I love it

“whomstsoever” ok I take it back roman’s not valid

I adore Logan’s popup fun facts, and him giving definitions for Roman’s vocabulary reminds me how much the two of them love writing and poetry and language aaaa

Patton trying not to be harsh is somehow 10x harsher than he normally is

oh wow that got real.

I know I’ve said this but I love logan’s insertions... but I do wish he got to say them out loud like earlier :/ Pausing to read them is less fun than hearing him talk.

oh wow that got real part 2

I want. So badly. To jump into this video and debate Patton on the nature of morality and what “the right thing is.” Roman you’re not being dumb, you’re bringing up excellent points and you’re valid again.

Oh no Patton... empathy is not morality... please please address that there are people who can’t experience empathy and choose to be moral and good

THE  TROLLEY PROBLEM HERE! WE! GO!

Logan’s popups bc he doesn’t want to “be too invasive” and making them optional to read hurts my heart :( He knows Patton, Roman, and Thomas aren’t reading any of it but he doesn’t want to be too much so he stays silent. Why?? Logan it’s okay! Why is this a thing now but not in the last 2 episodes? What happened to Logan :(

OOOOOOH Patton didn’t flip the switch :o Interesting! Daaaamn he’s arguing to let 5 people die rather than flip the switch so only one dies

LOGAN’S TEXTBOX WAS SO BIG AND FAST IT KNOCKED PATTON OVER I CANNOT BREATHE hang on I gotta read it

HE’S TALKING ABOUT DEONTOLOGY YES LOGAN THANK YOU FOR TELLING PATTON WHAT I PHYSICALLY CANNOT please tell me you’ll talk about utilitarianism and moral particularism next

Okay he used consequentialism but it’s close enough to utilitarianism that the outcome is the same. (Do you get it? Do you like my joke about how the outcome is most important? When we’re talking about-- oh you got it already? Good, moving on.)

DID ROMAN JUST FJCKING KILL LOGAN

“I’m okay, figment of your imagination, so.” Okay so CAN the Sides get hurt or can’t they?? Cause Patton clearly got bonked, roman got hit in the eye with paper and said ow, but logan got hit in the head with a throwing star and had his teeth ripped out and he was totally fine?

 Thomas is being so HONEST with himself so early in the episode, wow this is refreshing and I’m hype

AW YAY Patton called textbox Logan in to help with philosophy yay :’)

Logan: “Pity seems to be at the center of your idea of ‘putting good into the world’” first, Logan doing a voice impression of Nietzsche is GOLD, and second.... I wish they’d let him finish cause I was waiting for a “but” cause Logan siding with Nietzsche on this one feels... wrong? Like I could see Dee bringing it up or Logan using it in an argument only to continue with a contradicting philosophy but Logan equating empathy to pity... idk I thought he’d grown more than to think that :/ Actually I don’t think he ever saw it that way. It feels out of character but I’m guessing he had more to say to debunk that.

HOLY SHIT PATTON SKIPPED ALL THE REST OF LOGAN’S DIALOGUE AND YEETED HIM OFF THE SCREEN bruh he may have been right and he should’ve gotten to say it >:(

ROMAN ISTG DO NOT TRY AND MAKE THIS YOUR FAULT

I SAID DON’T

GODDAMMIT

sjfkdjgjsh okay aww Thomas good job, Patton too. Thank god they’re being nice to him

Patton is having a breakdown holy heckity about time

damn Patton is freaking HARSH

“I have a difference in opinion on this one, Patton” Thomas: *relieved sigh whisper* “ohhh thank you, Logan” YES APPRECIATE THE BOY YES YES I LOVE HIM why are they looking around like he isn’t making sense?

LOGAN YES! CALL HIM OUT! LET THOMAS VALUE HIMSELF AND PUT HIMSELF FIRST SOMETIMES! “Every point you’ve made in today’s discussion has contradicted that sentiment.” I love you but also you sound a lil like deceit... very lawyer-y and feels calculated like he’s been keeping notes for this purpose... I want deceit and logan to debate already damn it. Maybe it’s just that Logan’s inflections feel reminiscent of Deceit to show...something?

Ok can I just say that Logan gets so much rep for his strictness or high standards but he’s been SO GOOD about that lately and him teaching about the importance of leisure and self-care and freedom in your life and self-esteem and valuing yourself like you do with others... not even just this  video -- he’s been like this in the last few as well and these recent episodes remind me of early Logan (esp My Negative Emotions)  and that makes my heart so so happy.

Continuation of the above, compare this to how Logan acted in Why Bed? with regards to Roman. Roman advocated for leisure time and following dreams, while Logan had a schedule that optimized productivity and health. Now he’s taking a similar stance to Roman and asserting the importance of these things... WHY is so much of Logan’s character development OFFSCREEN?? I wanna know what made him switch on this! Maybe just cause he’s listening to roman from why bed?

Why is Logan being so abrasive? He sounds like his intent is more to disprove Patton rather than state what he actually thinks... not a fan of that but he’s not wrong

WOAH WOAH TOTAL PATTON BREAKDOWN WHAT HAPPENED WHAT THE FCK HE’S A LITERAL MONSTER IN THIS VIDEO GAME?

OH, MY GOD. If Logan didn’t step in and save them here this would have been catastrophic. I can feel my relief. I mean, he screamed, but it was a relief. WAIT IT WAS DECEIT THE WHOLE TIME??? Daaaamn good job on this one Deceit and I definitely like him more now but also WHERE IS LOGAN. Was it the whole time? That makes sense in hindsight and makes me feel better about some things he’s brought up but I feel like it really was Logan at the start, it wasn’t until he started calling out patton that his voice and inflection and stuff changed

Patton trying to attack Deceit   and hitting Thomas instead was  an EXCELLENT way to  showcase the effect SvS 1 and 2 are having

Deceit’s lil “A DUH DUH DUH DOY” looked and sounded just like Logan’s lmao don’t tell me it’s another switcheroo (I doubt it greatly lol)

REAL LOGAN REAL LOGAN REAL LOGAN

So wait what was the point that Deceit switched with Logan? Cause Logan’s saying “one more fact” so he was himself earlier right?

“Not that any of you care, but  I am unharmed.” Nooooo they care </3 “I will do you all a favor and spare you my company” okay OUCH

EFFECTIVE ALTRUISM YES aw he’s talking about him and patton working together yes thank you

Damn, Deceit is LOVING everything Logan says haha same

Logan and Deceit teaming up to teach Patton that it’s okay to care about yourself

DECEIT WHAT he’s being so supportive of Roman holy heck this is so genuine OH Roman’s arguing with it  this is a lot of stuff I didn’t expect roman to say out loud wow

THOMAS JUST SAID DECEIT THE CHARACTER ISN’T INHERENTLY UNETHICAL WOW this episode really said let’s make Deceit--

WAIT WOAH SORRY HIS NAME REVEAL!!! He’s Janice?? Is that true?

WAIT WOAH PART 2 BUT DECEIT JUST SAID IF IT WEREN’T FOR THE MUSTACHE HE WOULDN’T KNOW WHO THE EVIL TWIN IS BETWEEN ROMAN AND REMUS HOLY SHIT HE ACTUALLY LOOKED VULNERABLE AND THEN HURT AND THEN RIGHT BACK TO SNAKE

ROMAN’S GONE

fuck.... patton...roman....deceit....thomas....logan....I’m gonna go cry about all of them now

LESLIE ODOM JR IS HERE??????? oh there he goes

patton oh my god I love you  this ANGST are you trying to kill me?

Patton telling thomas he’s worthy of love I actually teared up

dfjdakjhfa deceit don’t push it

Wowie that was an EPISODE

[agoodgoddamnshot]

Picture This - Geralt/Jaskier (Modern!AU)

[Gif isn’t mine]

Fic originally posted to my AO3 account

This isn’t the worst thing that Jaskier’s name has been attached to.  He can think of a handful of scandals that have – in his father’s own words – “made grand attempts at smearing the family name” off of the top of his head. He’ll admit it: some of them were bad. But in the last few months, Julia Alfred Pankratz has been on his best behaviour. There hasn’t been as much as a whisper of him on mainstream media news outlets.  

If he’s being completely honest, this, whatever this is, doesn’t even register as an issue.

So there’s this picture. He’s a musician with a band and he’s pretty damn famous. Of course there’s going to be pictures of him. That’s what happens. Mostly, he’s on stage. Sometimes he’s at galas and dinners and meet and greets. On the very rare occasion, a picture of him will surface on social media, taken by someone from a horrific angle, usually at hip level, showing him just at a friend’s party or something like that.

Anyway, there’s a picture. Yennefer of all fucking people told him about it. Well, that’s not true. He woke up to the sound of Geralt’s phone buzzing insistently on the nightstand. The other man picked it up and answered before Jaskier could slap it out of Geralt’s hand or tell him to turn the damn thing off and get back to spooning him.

And that’s when all of this started.

Jaskier throws an arm over his eyes, shielding them from the bright morning light trying to fight its way into the room. He’s no idea what time it is, but it’s too early for any of this. “I still don’t see why you’re worried.”

The space beside him is cold, despite having dragged Geralt’s share of the blankets over to cocoon himself in comforters. With his arm covering his eyes, all Jaskier can do is listen to the sound of bare feet padding quickly around the room.

“Your father pays me to protect you,” Geralt grunts, rooting through the space around him for what Jaskier can only presume to be the rest of his clothes. God only knows where they ended up.

“And you do!” Jaskier moves his arm and peers over at the man. “Really, the way you took that homophobic preacher guy to the ground the other day was truly a work of art. I didn’t even see him coming.”

Geralt makes a sound. “That’s another problem. Your awareness of your surroundings is non-existent. You need to work on that.”

Jaskier rolls his eyes. “There’s no problem.”

There’s a picture of them. He should probably make that clear. It’s not like this is the first time Geralt has been caught up in a photograph. In pretty much every picture taken of Jaskier by the paparazzi or the media outlets, Geralt is always somewhere in the background. He even has his own following on Instagram, the bastard. All because one fan of Jaskier’s asked who the hot bodyguard was, and then a hashtag trended and he was fucking asked about it on late night television when he should have been promoting his newest EP but it’s fine—

“Your father is going to have a heart attack.” Geralt sits at the foot of the bed. Pulling on his jeans, he shakes his head. “This might be the thing to kill him, the old bastard.”

Jaskier snorts. “We were just kissing. God, you’re acting like they caught me sucking you off in the back alley of some club.”

Geralt looks over his shoulder. “I’m his employee,” Geralt presses. “I’m your bodyguard.”

And most of the time, that’s all Geralt is. But after the concerts and parties and meetings, when it’s just the two of them, they’re Jaskier and Geralt. Jaskier sits up with a slight huff, a pleasant soreness from last night still buried deep in his muscles. The sheets slip down revealing his bared chest. “I thought we were going to tell him anyway,” Jaskier tilts his head. His fingers fidget with the fabric of the comforter, picking at a couple of stray strands.

Geralt sighs, a heavy and tired sounding thing. “I know.”

“So what’s the issue?”

“Nothing.”

Jaskier snorts. “You can’t just launch yourself out of bed and go stomping around my hotel room over ‘nothing’”.

A quiet moment passes them. Geralt sits motionless at the foot of the bed, head slightly bowed. Jaskier watches him for a second before he makes the decision to join the other man. His skin prickles in gooseflesh as soon as he shuffles out of his cocoon of blankets, despite how high they set the thermostat last night.

Jaskier curls his arms around Geralt’s waist, tugging the man back slightly. It’s a struggle for a minute, with Geralt insisting on brooding and ignoring him. But eventually after another minute – and a well placed kiss against a certain weak spot on Geralt’s neck – the bodyguard leans back into Jaskier’s hold.

The musician dips his head, nosing along the junction of Geralt’s neck and shoulder. “Don’t be broody,” Jaskier mumbles into skin. “What’s wrong? Tell me.”

Geralt tilts his head to the side, allowing more access to his neck. A slow and long sigh leaves him. “It’s just...strange. The loss of privacy. The way we have to be so careful around each other.”

Jaskier hums. They’ve spoken about it before: what they can and can’t do when out in public together. When they’re having lunch together, it has to look like it’s just a musician and his bodyguard. Jaskier has had to catch himself a number of times from reaching over the table and taking Geralt’s hand in his. Or letting his foot drift beneath the table to run along Geralt’s calf. When they walk together, he has to stop his fingers from reaching out to interlink with Geralt’s: even though their hands will often brush when they walk side by side.

Geralt is careful not to leave any marks on him. Well, on anywhere that could be seen by wandering eyes. There was that one time though – a pretty prominent hickey left on his neck. Jaskier was quick to brush off rumours about a secret partner when media news outlets started prying. But he remembers how desperately he wanted to say that it was Geralt – yes, the attractive bodyguard. But he stopped himself. He always does. Most of the time, he literally has to bite either his tongue or the inside of his cheek from saying anything.

Jaskier’s hands wander over Geralt’s still bare chest. His shirt from last night is lost to the room. They’ll find it eventually, when they both have to leave. Until then, Jaskier is content with mapping out every patch of skin and muscle of the other man. As if he doesn’t know what he looks and feels like already.

Geralt sighs. “I would have liked to have told him in person. I don’t like the fact that he has to find out about us from a picture published by The Daily Reporter, of all places.”

Jaskier presses a chaste kiss to the man’s temple. “He doesn’t look at the Daily. But his assistant does. I’m sure she’s having a heart attack of her own trying to figure out how to tell him.”

Geralt hums.

Jaskier perches his chin on Geralt’s shoulder. “I could call her? The picture was only published an hour ago, according to Yennefer. I could ask dad’s assistant to keep her mouth shut for a second until we call him ourselves?”

Geralt turns his head. Their noses brush, and even now, Jaskier’s chest tightens with how much he feels for the man. Geralt’s eyes are soft, hooded, looking at him for a second. “Do you want to?” he asks quietly. “Tell him?”

Jaskier frowns. “Of course I do,” he replies. “You’re a part of my life now. He should know.”

Geralt nods, but says nothing else.

The call is a pretty one-sided affair. Most of his conversations with his father are like that, to be honest. Though now it’s the other way around; Jaskier does most of the talking, words just flowing out of him with no breath taken in between. It isn’t until a firm hand settles on his back does he remembers that he does actually need to breathe, and he pulls one in.

Geralt doesn’t say much. But that’s normal. The man isn’t that verbal with most things. Jaskier glances over his shoulder, trying to prompt the man to say something. But he’s met with wide eyes, just staring down at the phone in his hands. And he’s never seen Geralt look so frightened in his life. Which is an odd thing to see. Geralt Rivia, elite bodyguard, who Jaskier is pretty sure may have actually killed someone in his life before Jaskier, looks frightened.

When Jaskier finishes talking, which seems to be an hour later, but a bedside clock tells him it’s only been a couple of minutes, a deafening silence settles over the room. For a terrifying moment, he thinks that the call might have been dropped. That he’ll have to call his father and do the entire thing again. And if that’s the case, his heart might just give out from the stress of it.

But suddenly there’s a muffled sigh on the other end of the line. “Well I suppose there are worse things you could have been caught doing,” his father’s dulled voice comes through the phone. It sounds tired. This isn’t the first thing Jaskier has ever had to call him out, starting the call with a listen, don’t get mad, but—

Jaskier peers over his shoulder to Geralt, lifting his brow. See?

The other man doesn’t look entirely convinced. He looks down at his hands instead, picking at some loose thread on the leg of his jeans.

His father says something else. Something that Jaskier doesn’t quite hear for a moment. Instead, he watches Geralt. Jaskier’s eyes soften. It’s okay, he rests his forehead against the other man’s. Geralt relaxes slightly.

Jaskier takes his father off of speaker. “I’ll talk to you more about it later,” he says into his phone.

His father hums. He’s the one to hang up. Jaskier looks down at his phone long enough for the screen to blink to black. He tosses his phone on to the bed. It buries itself somewhere amongst the sheets and duvet. But Jaskier wraps an arm around Geralt’s bare shoulders, setting his lips against the ridge of Geralt’s jaw. Geralt sighs, melting into the touch.

Jaskier doesn’t have anything to do today. They arrived to the city yesterday evening, and the venue for tomorrow night is still being prepped. Rehearsals will start early tomorrow morning, but with it being the last leg in the tour, Jaskier and the rest of the band know well what they need to do and how to do it. With nothing demanding his attention, he doesn’t feel bad for tugging Geralt down on to the bed with him. The other man grunts, putting an arm out to stop himself from crushing Jaskier beneath him.

“Well, that’s that,” Jaskier smiles.

Geralt looks at him for a second, before leaning forward and kissing his forehead. A small smile tugs at the corner of Jaskier’s lip. Jaskier lifts his chin, catching Geralt’s lips in his own. The arm slung around the bodyguard’s shoulders tightens, pulling him closer until they’re pressed close together.

It’s jarring how well their bodies can slot together. Even after only a handful of months, Geralt’s body can always wrap around his so well it feels like the man had always been there. Geralt moves, sliding into where they were this morning; both on their sides, with Jaskier’s back pressed firmly against Geralt’s chest, with the bodyguard’s arms firmly around him.

Jaskier reaches out as much as he’s able, feeling around for his phone. He finds it buries between some folds of the duvet. Behind him, he feels the other man relax against the bed. Lips settle against the nape of his neck. Jaskier unlocks his phone, opening up his browser and tapping in a website address. He clicks his tongue.

He taps Geralt’s hand, one that has found a resting place over Jaskier’s stomach. “I know that someone from The Daily Reporter took it, and we hate them,” Jaskier says slowly, “but I’ll say it: it’s a good photo. I might get it framed.”

There’s a warm puff of air against his nape. “Jaskier.”

“I’m getting it framed. I’ll hang it over the fireplace.”

“Stop.”

“It’s a statement piece,” Jaskier continues, despite the insistent prodding of Geralt’s finger against his side, “I think it’ll really tie my living room together.”

“Stop.”