#based on the running joke between me and my roommate that my robotics kids are gonna break into my dorm room

[steddie-as-they-come]

Steve's pinning his polaroids up on his wall when his new roommate walks in.

Steve's immediate thought is oh, I'm gonna hate this guy.

Shaggy hair, leather jacket, rings glinting off his fingers, electric guitar slung over his back. Hot as hell, but compared to Steve's polos and perfectly coiffed hair, they could not be more different.

The guy looks like he had the same thought. His shoulders slump as he takes in Steve's appearance.

A man comes in behind his roommate, toting a suitcase full of clothes. "Oh, are you Eddie's roommate?" he says to Steve, who shakes himself out of his thoughts.

"Yes, I am." he says politely. "I'm Steve Harrington."

The man sets down the suitcase. "Wayne Munson." he offers, shaking Steve's hand. "I'm Eddie's uncle."

He nudges Eddie forward, who lets out an almost inaudible groan. "Eddie." he says snippily, shaking Steve's hand.

This'll be a fun year, Steve thinks.

They don't talk. Steve didn't think he was going to be best friends with whoever he got saddled with, but he thought they could at least be civil to each other. Their room is split down the middle. Eddie's half is absolutely covered in posters and music and cutouts of magazines. Steve's is...almost as blank as his room back home.

He misses the shitheads.

No one can ever tell them that. They'll get even more insufferable.

Once or twice, when Steve comes back from a class, he'll catch Eddie peering at Steve's pictures, but he’ll jump away before Steve can call him out on it. It's awful. Steve misses Robin.

It takes him a horribly long amount of time to stop flinching awake at every little sound. He'd stored his nailbat under his bed, out of sight of Eddie, but every time someone yells in the hallway or shouts in the room next door, Steve startles awake, already grabbing his bat. Luckily, Eddie sleeps like the dead, because Steve's not sure he'd be able to explain the weapon without breaking his NDA.

It's three A.M., early November, when there's a knock on their door. Steve isn't asleep yet, so he stands and answers it.

Eight people pile in, talking in hushed whispers. They slam into him, knocking him over.

In the middle of the hug, Steve counts his kids. It's Dustin, nestled against his side, then Lucas, El, and Will under his arm, Max draped over his back, Erica leaning into his shoulder, and Mike on the very outskirts of the group. He pulls them all in tighter, and they all yelp and squawk at him.

"Let us go, Steve!" Erica says, annoyed.

"Nope." Steve says. "You came to find me at three in the morning, you can tolerate a hug."

"Shoo, move." another voice says, and all the kids part like the sea. Robin pushes her way through the group and hugs him tightly. "I don't know how you do it." she says to Steve. "Driving all these nerds around, it's exhausting."

He buries his face in her hair. "Missed you, Robbie." he mumbles.

She leans her head against his. "Missed you too, dingus."

Steve pulls back. "You got your license!"

"I did!" Robin jingles her keys happily.

Eddie sits up, and everyone in the room freezes. "Wha's happenin'?" he slurs sleepily. Then he registers all the people in the room. "Whoa, what the fuck?"

Steve stands up, brushing himself off. "I'm sorry, man, I didn't know they were coming." He shoots a glare at the group, who looks appropriately cowed. Minus Dustin. Steve can now see whose idea this was.

Eddie swings out of bed. "No, it's- wait, are these the kids from your polaroids?"

"Yeah," Steve says. "Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Will, El, Max, Erica, and this is my best friend Robin."

"Awww, you have polaroids of us?" Max teases over his shoulder. "That's sweet."

Steve reaches behind him and tussles her hair, shoving her gently. "Shut up, shithead."

"Your room is cool." Mike says. "Not Steve's side. But this part is cool!"

Steve glares at Mike, but Eddie grins big. "Thanks! I'm Eddie Munson." He shakes Mike's hand.

"Is that a DnD poster?" Will says. "That's amazing!"

"It certainly is!" Eddie says. "I used to DM back in high school. Played a bit too."

The nerdier section of the group reacts appropriately, oohing and ahhing, while Max and Erica just roll their eyes and nudge each other.

Steve hesitates. “I know these guys don’t really do anything on Saturday afternoons, and I think they’ve been wanting to start another campaign. Would you mind if they come up, maybe every weekend, and you can…” he doesn’t know enough about DnD “…run a game for them?”

Eddie looks amused. “You mean DM a campaign?”

“Yeah, that.” It’s an olive branch that Steve’s offering.

Eddie takes it. “Well, how can I turn that down? Sheepies of the Harrington flock, how would you like to join a new campaign?”

“I’ll keep the rest of you occupied,” Steve mutters as the guys (and El) start talking excitedly. “Max, Rob, you guys wanna find the closest arcade and set some new high scores?”

“Only one person will be setting high scores.” Max says, gesturing to herself, but she looks excited at the prospect.

Steve lets Eddie and the kids talk for a couple more minutes, then claps his hands. “Okay, it is three in the morning and I have a nine A.M. class tomorrow SO! I have enough blankets for all of you to sleep on the floor if Eddie doesn’t mind-“ Eddie shrugs. “Or Rob can drive you back home.”

Steve looks around and Robin is already in his bed, cuddled up like the blanket hog she is. “Okay, well, sleepover here it is then.”

He whisks out his ungodly amount of throw blankets (courtesy of Joyce’s knitting spree) and the kids get together in their usual movie-night-at-Steve’s cuddle position.

Will’s got his head on Mike’s shoulder, Lucas next to Mike, Max leaning on Lucas, El’s head in Max’s lap and her legs thrown over Dustin’s lap, and Erica with her back against Dustin’s shoulder. Sometimes Robin and Steve are wedged into the pile somewhere, but just as often they’re tangled up under six different blankets across the room, which is why Steve whispers “Scoot over, dumbass,” as he climbs into bed next to Robin.

Eddie watches them assume their positions with an expression of what could be awe on his face. “When I saw those pictures,” he whispered, “I thought they were like your siblings? Or maybe old pictures of your friends. I didn’t think you were a soccer mom.”

Steve glares at him, but unlike earlier in the year, there’s no heat behind it. “Hope you like coparenting then, because these guys need to be watched 24/7 or they’ll run off and start the apocalypse.”

Eddie laughs like it’s a joke. To him it is. He hops back into bed. “Goodnight, weird little family.”

The kids murmur a collective sleepy goodnight, and Steve shuts his eyes.

It’s the most relaxed he’s felt since he moved in.

part two!

[binniesthighs]

call me babydoll | reader x chan

a/n: chapter threeeee here it is!!! hehe thank you all for being patient for this update and thank you as always for giving this fic your love!! i start out the first part of this chapter in 3rd person which is a lil different, but i wanted to try it out! hehe i love hearing what ya thought of the chapter too! 😊

Pairing: self insert, female reader x bang chan 

Genre: action, mystery and suspense, fluff, smut, angst 

Tags: (of this part) bodyguard au, secret agent au, royal au, moderndayprince!chan, secretagent!reader, secretagent!jeongin, secretagent!jisung, collegestudent!seungmin, skz side characters, 3rd person for the first section, adventure and mystery, action and peril, plot driven, running out of time, slow-ish burn, growing feelings, sexual tension, explicit language, mentions of food, brief talk of gaining weight while travelling, there’s a few spoilers hidden in this one...can ya find them? ;) 

CWs: blood and other wounds, shooting at a convenience store, thoughts about death and dying when in peril 

Word count: 5.6k 

Parts

ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR

Two years of pocket change and Seungmin had finally saved up enough money to afford to study abroad. It had nearly taken him life and limb, and he might’ve suffered (1) concussion from a bowl of soup being thrown at his head, but, he had done it. 

With grease stains on his sneakers Seungmin traversed the long and stretching corridor of the airport terminal with his backpack strapped onto him tightly. The air smelled different here. It was fresher than he was used to--coming from a large city center--everything here felt more pristine. Outside of the tall glass windows, airplanes lifted off into the sky like massive metal giants. He couldn’t remember properly, but the last time that he must’ve been on a plane, it likely had been when his mother...

Seungmin shook the dusty and cobwebbed ideas out from his head. 

No more sad thoughts. 

I’m gonna like it here. He thought to himself, then clipped the little buckle to his backpack straps over his chest with a determined huff. 

I’m really going to like it here. 

With his phone in hand, he tried his best to decipher what the signs said above him. Mostly, they looked like a jumbled mess of symbols, but luckily he had spent some time trying to learn the language between shifts and sneaking peeks at his little dictionary under the diner counter. The whole terminal buzzed with a lovely kind of energy, and he was thrilled to get to know it better. The first wonderful thing about travelling abroad was that no one knew who he was, and he could be whoever he wanted. In this new land, no one knew him or anything about the dingy little apartment that he had lived in. No one knew about his less than honorable roommates or the debt that he had put himself under to go to college in the first place. 

I could be a prince for all they know. 

Seungmin liked that idea a lot. 

His stomach grumbled as he passed by food stands, however he hadn’t had the chance yet to change his currency, so he knew that he would have to wait just a minute longer. Seungmin had been assigned a host family by his college, and he hoped like crazy that they would be the kind to cook for him. Seungmin had heard somewhere that kids who go on study abroad gain a ton of weight at first...but he didn’t mind. Where else would he get the chance? 

There had been a host father that had sent him an email a couple weeks ago--that he promptly had to run through Google Translate--who told him that he would meet him outside the main luggage claim area after his flight landed. Seungmin had tried to look up and see if his host family were on social media, but he could find no such profile of theirs. He decided it probably was better that it was a surprise. 

Seungmin lugged his two large suitcases out to the summer air of the new and strange land, and it finally hit him. Standing on the solid ground of another land thousands of miles away from his home, it was really all happening. 

The landscape outside was like that of a movie scene: rolling hills and jagged mountains capped with snow, adorable little homes built into the countryside and tiny cars with horizonal license plates. The sun was warm in the cerulean sky that puffed with perfectly white clouds. On the air, the scent of flowers wafted, and he was certain that there was a lake nearby too--he had researched it. There were old men in their caps with a crook in their back, and ladies with long floral skirts and dresses with Mary Janes. Each of them had smile lines on their faces and under their eyes as if they had all lived lives well lived. There were pretty girls too with slender legs and delicate arms swaddled in light scarves. 

Seungmin wouldn’t have minded getting a girlfriend on this trip. While he kept the fact to himself, Seungmin had never really done anything with a girl before outside of some awkwardly handsy kissing in middle school. Maybe this time around, he would finally get his chance: he had read somewhere that girls often like foreigners. 

“Seung Min! Seung Min?” A man’s voice called. 

The young college student whipped his head around in the direction of the sound, finally finding a middle aged man with salt-and-pepper hair with whiskers of the same color. He had red cheeks and a large nose, and looked a bit like a character from a comic. Seungmin waved back, greeting his new father. When they met, the older man threw him into a large hug with a chuckle. He smelled a bit like Tabaco and old leather. He had a couple missing teeth, but that didn’t lessen his bright smile. 

“English?” Seungmin’s host father asked. 

“Yeah! I can speak English.” He returned with a welcoming grin. 

“I thought it would be good for us to speak English since I don’t know your tongue and you don’t know mine...meet in the middle?” 

“Thank you for coming to get me!” He said, handing the man his suitcases which were just a bit too big for the tiny trunk of the car that looked as if it had come from the 80′s. In the end, they decided to put his bags in the backseat. 

The man beamed with smiling eyes. “Of course...son!” 

Seungmin gave him a little bow, “Heh, thank you.”

“Get in the car! You must be hungry right? Long flight?”

“Oh yes, it was really long.” 

“You will eat well here! Mother knows how to feed well. She will put meat on your bones. She did with me!” He guffawed out with hearty laughter, and Seungmin already knew that he would really like this man. 

“We have a room ready for you back at home, and I will show you tomorrow how to use the buses. Okay?” 

Seungmin nodded with a bit of rose to his cheeks. He found his hand wandering down to his arm which he pinched at lightly--cliché as it was. His host father coughed and the engine sputtered, then they took off away from the sounds of jet engines to the countryside which was scattered with churches with protruding steeples and all kinds of homes with red-orange roofs and perfectly symmetrical windows. Seungmin couldn’t help but keep his eyes glued to the window as they drove on to take in the whole scene. Never had he seen a place so beautiful or magical looking. They drove on past a crystal clear lake that stretched on and on to the base of a mountain appearing to claw at the heavens, and adorned in emerald green pines and other deciduous trees. If it was even possible, he had never seen greener grass in all his life. 

“Beautiful, eh?” His host father said while tuning the radio. 

“It’s amazing.” The young student said in his amazement. “Oh, do you know if there is somewhere I can change my money? I don’t have any of your money yet.” 

“Ah!” The older man said with a wink. “I know of a place. I can take you there first.” 

The radio hummed with a static fuzz as Seungmin’s host father messed with it, skipping over the channels, blurring the music and the talk radio all together. 

Seungmin tried out the best he could to make out the words he knew, but even then he didn’t focus too hard, not when he had all this to take in. 

Mad....crime....joke...violence in the South...drugs...unknown...information...hiding...red... 

“Ah!” His host father called out after changing the channel once more, “I love this song!” He held his chest with an affectionate grasp. “The song of my homeland!” 

Seungmin whipped his attention back, trying to listen to the song that sounded anthem-like, and was sung by what sounded like several men harmonizing. Seungmin tried to focus on the melody--it was nothing like he head heard before. It sounded very...honorable. 

The small car whipped up to what looked to be a gas station on the edge of the town with one single pump and a little convenience store attached to it. In the window he read the yellow and black sign saying Currency Exchange. 

“This is what you need?” 

Seungmin nodded in his thanks then stretched his legs out once he exited, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Are you coming too?” 

The older man shook his head and took out a pack of cigarettes. “I’ll gas the car, you go in.” 

The young man gave his host father one more nod, then set fourth inhaling the immaculate summer air into his lungs. It was as if the very oxygen there held the vitality of life; he almost felt bad wasting it on himself. 

The door swung open with the tiny tinkling of bells and he entered to the smell of cured meats hanging on hooks along side the dry scent of the refrigerators holding their display of soft drinks with labels that he had never seen before. He chuckled a little seeing the giant slab of meat with twine hanging from the ceiling as such. 

“Free sample?” The attendant said while he picked his teeth with a toothpick. “Foreigner?” He added after looking Seungmin up and down. 

“Yes, and no thank you. But, can I exchange my currency here?” 

The unamused man nodded in the direction of the little kiosk in the corner of the shop. He went back to reading his tabloid where he slumped in a stool surrounded by an assortment of candy and cookies. 

Seungmin picked his mother tongue first on the little screen, robotic and green, thankful to see Korean for the first time in this new place. He navigated to the options screen. Behind him, the little bells tinkled to the shop door again, followed by the sound of the attendant scrambling out of his stool, metal legs scraping the floor. 

The student turned his head around in the commotion, taking in four very strange looking customers. Firstly, they were all covered in blood in one way or another, and each of them wore clothes--pajamas from the looks of it--which were shredded, torn, and blackened by something that might’ve been soot. Three men and one woman, and they all had a bit of a crazed look to their eyes. Clearly, none of them cared that they had walked into the store looking as such. 

Seungmin pressed his body to the corner of the shop, as if this could make him invisible. The attendant cowered behind the counter with a series of scared sounding whimpers. 

“Wh-what do you want?” He asked in his native tongue with quaking breaths. 

One of the men in the group wearing a flannel with chocolate brown hair threw open one of the fridges, took out a water bottle, cracked it open, then greedily slugged the liquid down his throat. 

“Pay the man, Fox.” He said to a man with pure white hair and shattered glasses. 

The man with white hair and glasses nodded, digging through his pockets. The man with the flannel then proceeded to revenge the place, opening up snacks and shoving the cheesy dust into his mouth with gluttonous moans and crunching loudly with an open mouth. Had he not been doing something as unsavory as such, Seungmin thought that he was pretty handsome, and somewhat familiar. The other three simply stood and watched as he did so calmly, and surveyed the shelves themselves after a moment. 

The attendant clocked Seungmin with fearful and confused eyes and Seungmin truly didn’t know what to do besides melt into the corner with the currency exchange kiosk. 

A man in running clothes ran a hand through his deep brown hair, then turned to grab several first-aid supplies in his hand. Seungmin noticed that he had a horrible gash over his eye that crusted and bled into the white of his sclera. The woman approached the attendant with arms crossed over her thin camisole that was stained a number of different colors which Seungmin didn’t want to identify. He noticed that she was only wearing white socks that were nearly stained green. 

“You do currency exchange right?” She said with a bold kind of confidence. “EGP?” 

The attendant shook in his boots, then pointed a trembling finger at Seungmin. The young man nearly felt his heart stop. The woman had stern eyes that were bagged with exhaustion, but that didn’t make her any less intimating. While she too looked a wreck, there was something about her so cold and threatening that Seungmin felt like crumpling up into a ball. Over it all, she was startlingly beautiful too. 

“Are you done?” She asked him kindly, and Seungmin struggled to get out a feeble “yes.” Of course, he hadn’t actually drawn any money out yet, but this seemed to be the best answer. 

The man in running clothes dumped a large arrangement of goods on the counter with an emotionless expression: coffee drinks, shooters of alcohol, gauze and tape, Band-Aids, anti-bacterial ointment, gum, a couple lighters and toothpaste with four tooth brushes, combs, several bottles of water, sour candy, and, oddly, condoms. 

The man with white hair came behind him to provide the cash to pay, and the attendant rang the odd group up with nervous glances to the man in the flannel who destroyed the store further. That man laughed maniacally as he popped open the plastic packaging to a pastry, then shoved in as of much of it as he could, smearing white cream over his lips. 

“Bee!! You have to try this!! A day driving through the woods and this is fucking fantastic!” He jumped up and down like an ecstatic toddler--but this was a strange juxtaposition to all the blood staining his arms and the fabric of his flannel. 

“Have some decency, Your Highness.” The woman chided, then held out her hand as the bills dispensed from the little machine. 

“Your Highness?” Seungmin muttered, not really understanding why he was still in there in the first place. 

“Fucking scam.” She muttered. “Is this all that you have??” She growled at the attendant. 

“It’s a little thing!! What do you expect??” He stammered with hands thrown in the air as if she had pointed a gun at his head. 

“F, tell Carroll to wire us when we get to Egypt. This’ll barely get us a place to stay.” 

“When I get internet access, sure, I’ll try my best.” The man with white hair said with an edge to his voice, sarcasm clearly giving it a type of bite. He then took to shoving all of their goods into plastic bags since the attendant had been too fearful to do so. He slid a few spare bills onto the countertop. “This is for everything that he ate.”  

“Do you have a bathroom?” The woman demanded, and the shopkeeper nodded, giving one more fearful glance to the college student. 

“Is there somewhere around here to get clothes?” The man with running clothes asked. 

“I-In town, a couple minutes in--” 

Outside of the little store, the sound of tires screeching on cement screamed, and all four of the strangers whipped their heads in the direction. Seungmin jumped too at the sound, and held his backpack to his chest tightly as if it were some kind of safety vest. 

The four strangers gravely exchanged terrified glances before throwing their bodies to the floor without a word. 

“GET DOWN!” The woman screamed, and in milliseconds, the rapid-fire crack of machine gun bullets came shattering the glass of the convenience store. 

Seungmin too threw all of his weight to land on his stomach on the cold linoleum floors and pressed his cheek against it while his ears rang. Tiny shards of glass pricked at his hands, but this adrenaline didn’t even let him feel the pain. He was certain that he must’ve been hyperventilating, because the room had started to spin among the relentless sounds of metal shells hitting the ground and metal shelves being upended from the force. The room filled with the smell of dozen different kinds of foods as packaging was ripped open and food and drink came spilling to the ground. The shopkeeper whimpered out loud prayers in his native tongue while he hid behind the counter. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as three of the strangers whipped out hand guns from their waistbands and knelt down behind the remaining shelves to shoot back at the black van outside. 

Seungmin pinched his arm with eyes shut. 

He wished he hadn’t. 

oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck. He bit the words into his lip. 

“Hey kid!” The man with white hair growled at him. “You okay?” 

While the two of them looked nearly to be the same age, this other man with snow white hair seemed to know what he was doing, so Seungmin decided to take the smallest bit of solace in that over the deafening sound of bullets. 

“I-I think so?!” 

“Keep your head down!” He said with gritted teeth, then angled his gun with a squinted eye. 

“Bee??? Bee?” The fourth man with the flannel cried. 

“Head. Down.” She said while firing more shots. 

The room filled with a thin haze, and Seungmin covered his ears with bloody fingers. 

The strangers fired their guns until there was nothing left, then escaped hiding behind the shelves with heaving chests. The young man had curled up into the fetal position, mouth feeling deathly dry with hot tears streaming down his cheeks. 

Seungmin didn’t know that he had gone on this trip for his life to end. 

How fucking cruel fate was. 

His body shook, and he clung to his bag for dear life, waiting for it all to end, and for his time to come. Seungmin would’ve thought that in the moments before he had died, he wanted to think of all the good things that had happened in his life, but, he was disappointed to find that all he could come up with was fear. 

“Did you get a look at him?” One of the strangers yelled on the other side of Seungmin’s muffled ears. 

“NO!” One of them barked back. 

“He was wearing the crest!! The red!!” The woman called out. 

The world was black behind his eyelids, but anything was better than the scene that was actually unfolding before the terrified college student. Soon, the sounds faded, and Seungmin was then really convinced that it had finally happened. This was it. He was even still scared to open his eyes. 

A grip at his arm pulled him up. 

“You okay? They’re gone. You kinda blacked out there for a second.” It was the woman had pulled him up to his feet. 

His head spun seeing the carnage of the destroyed store, and the student became dizzier by the second. 

“I-I think I’m about to black out again--” His knees felt week and his vision blurred. 

“Hey! Hey!” One of the other strangers, the one with the running clothes scooped him back up and gave a light pat to his face. “You’re alright! See?” 

Miraculously, Seungmin really was unscathed. 

“Who-who are you? Who...who the hell were they? What the FUCK was that?” 

The four of them exchanged glances once more, communicating some kind of silent understanding between all of them. 

“What’s your name kid?” The white-haired one said as he put his gun back into his waistband. 

“S-Seungmin?” 

“Ok Seungmin, there’s a lot going on here that you really shouldn’t be aware of, and there's a lot of answers that I can’t give you, I just need to to trust me, alright?” 

“O-okay?” 

Now that the shop was devoid of windows, the summer breeze came blowing into the store--an odd contrast to the mess that was made all over the glass shards and food. 

“You’re safe now. They’ve gone. No one can hurt you.” 

“A-are you sure about that?” 

“We need to get going. I don’t know why the hell they leaved when they had us cornered, but we can’t be here for long.” The man in running clothes said with a tentative bite to his lip. 

The woman nodded. “You’re right Two.”

“What do we do with him though?” The man supposedly named Two said, motioning to Seungmin. 

“D-do?” His eyes widened to frightful full moons. “D-do????” 

“We take him with?” The man in the flannel suggested and shrugged. 

The woman rolled her eyes. “You don’t call the shots on stuff like this, Your Highness.” 

“H-Highness? What??” Seungmin blabbered. 

The man with white hair snatched the young student’s bag from his hands. “You got a laptop in that bag of yours?” 

“--H-HEY!” 

He man pulled out Seungmin’s dismal Chromebook that he had also saved several months for. 

“Hm. This will do.” 

“I guess we don’t have any other choice...” The woman rolled her eyes. “Introductions later. They could be coming back.” 

“Hey, HEY!” The shopkeeper yelled, then rose from his hiding place to look in despair at his destroyed shop, and his aging cured meat slab stuck with bullet holes on the floor. 

“We’ll take care of it all. We apologize.” The man in the flannel bowed deeply. 

Sunlight stung Seungmin’s strained eyes, and he realized that he had completely forgotten about his host father in his little car from the 80′s. To his surprise, the little car was nowhere to be seen. 

“M-my dad??” He said under his breath, also realizing that all of his belongings had gone with the man too. All he now had left to his name was his passport, a spare set of clothes, his laptop, and a couple school journals. 

“Get in.” The man named Two said while throwing open the door, but then gave him squinted wink. “Been to Egypt before?” 

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

“This mission is fucked.” Jeongin muttered to you, voice echoing slightly in the cobblestone alley. 

“Yeah, it certainly seems like it.” 

You fiddled with you new blouse. It was two times as itchy as you had expected and two times as expensive, but you had been desperate. With all of the spare supplies destroyed in the bombing, you and your partner had found yourselves hopelessly empty handed. 

“Carroll is gonna have our asses. Fuck...” Jeongin slicked a hand through his hair with a bandaged arm. “We can’t take that kid to Egypt with us!! We already have to be on high alert for the prince...and now this??” 

Your partner threw his head back incredulously against the brick wall, then stopped to watch the rest of the group sitting outside of the café and garnering odd glances from passerby's. 

“Well what the hell else to do we do??” 

Jeongin shrugged, then looking to the side shamefully. “You...know what the protocol is. We can’t stay here to watch over him until someone from the agency comes...and, we’re running out of time...White Rabbit is waiting for our correspondence..” 

“Absolutely not.” 

The poor young kid, naïve as he was, you couldn’t but help but feel bad for him. Not only was he all alone out there as he had explained, it appeared as if his host father had made off with all of his things too. It was hard to not pity the kid. 

“Y/n, you know that he’ll only drag us down. If we take him with, his life becomes our problem. If he dies, we’ll have to answer to whoever his family is and we both know that could get messy. We already have a mission: get the intel, then get the prince home. Not take that kid along with us for the joyride.” 

“You’re forgetting that they’ve seen him with us now. He’s associated with us. If we leave him in the dust, there’s gonna be an innocent kid dead in a foreign land, and it’ll be our fault for letting that happen. Do you want that to happen?” 

Your partner sucked at his teeth in thought for a moment, then groaned out. 

“I really fucking hate this babysitting thing.” 

“It’s the three of us and the two of them. The odds are still pretty much in our favor.” 

“It’s still dangerous odds.” Jeongin threw his hands onto his hips, then paced the length of the alley for a small stretch. “As of now, you’re assigned to the prince. Forget about the kid, Two and I will worry about him. The prince is the priority. If shit hits the fan, don’t even think twice, take the prince and get out. Okay? You should never leave his side.” 

You nodded in agreement, feeling a sneaky sense of pride. After all of the chaos and the uncertainty, Jeongin was really coming into his own. 

From the little patio where the others were, it looked as if Chan and Seungmin were getting a long swimmingly. You assumed that it had something to do with shared trauma. Weirdly, Chan had taken to the young man like a bit of a pet. Knowing all that the prince was going through, it made sense...perhaps this also could’ve explained why he had kissed you more than once. Anyone in his position would’ve acted as frantic as such--at least, this was what you had convinced yourself. 

Two sat with the two men wearing thick black sunglasses to hide his gnarly eye wound, sipping espresso. Jeongin started walking back towards the group when you grabbed at his arm. 

“--Wait, I need to talk to you about one more thing?” 

Your partner’s rather gaudy Hawaiian-themed shirt flapped in the breeze. “What’s that?” 

You drew him in closer. “What do you make of Two? He doesn’t strike you as suspicious?” 

“Suspicious? Why?” 

“I-I don’t know...it’s just a feeling that I’m getting. We know next to nothing about him--” 

“--But isn’t that how this goes? We’re not supposed to know things about each other? That’s the point? He’s stuck with us this far...and...” 

A couple passed by the two of you with linked arms, and Jeongin stopped his thought out of distrust of the two of them listening in. 

His voice lowered even further, “If Carroll trusts him, so should we.” The young man nodded, then patted your scratched shoulder. You winced, and he quickly apologized. “It’s...fine that you’re suspicious. Its best for us to be, you know?” 

“Expect the unexpected?” 

Your partner dished out a little eyeroll, “Yeah. Something like that.” 

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

It was as if His Royal Highness Prince Chan had never seen the inside of a public airport before. Everything was just so novel to him, and he gasped out at all the little trinkets and tchotchkes. 

As excited as he was, he still tried his best to keep a solid composure under his disguise: a cap, a hoodie, and thick framed sunglasses. The royal didn’t look the most non-descript, but you figured that it was better than nothing. 

The young kid sulked seeing the inside of the airport once more, as he had claimed that he had just left from there. You still didn’t know what to make of him all the way, but at least you could tell that he had a good heart. While in the car he told you and your companions how he had saved up all this money to travel, studied the language and arranged to go to school here too. While all of his plans had been thwarted, at least the kid was still getting to travel...with a price on his head...but still...he was getting to travel. 

Now that Jeongin had been able to contact HQ thanks to the kid’s computer, everything was arranged. Flight tickets, sleeping arrangements, supplies and Bun even knew that you were on your way. You had little desire to see that man considering how you had heard that he was one to live up to his eccentric reputation, but there was little other choice. Jeongin’s words ran through and through your head, “If Carroll trusts him, so should we.” 

Over it all, it was the prince who had worried you most. He was out in the open, and undoubtedly whoever those bastards were with the red crests would be close on your tail. Your neck strained with a pain that only seemed to grow stronger with every corner that you turned to ensure that no one was there. While the handsome prince liked to joke about how his life was on your hands, it was much more serious than that. 

You had seen the fear in his eyes that night--it was so tangible that you could practically hold in your hands. He was a man terrified of death, and he knew that he had little control over it. You had control over it, but you knew that you could only stretch yourself so far. 

Your group of five neared your gate in the international terminal lined with several dozen different kinds of multi-colored flags. You situated yourself between Two and the Prince on one of the thin teal chairs with flattened cushions. Chan tapped his hands on this knees impatiently as he inspected the place. 

“Kind of exciting isn’t it?” He said with a tiny grin. 

“What?” You moved to look at him with his obscured features. “Exciting?” 

“Yeah, you know, travelling together. It kind of feels like an adventure. I mean, they’ve got a gun to our heads, but at least we’re together right?” 

You scoffed, simply amused at how he had taken the severity out of the situation. It was clear that this prince knew little about the concept of perspective. 

“I’m not following.” 

“I get that...we need to be careful, but who said that we can’t, say, enjoy the journey?” 

“You’re saying that you want us to have fun while we’re running for our lives?” 

The prince smiled. “You know that I like having fun. That and...I’m just trying to be optimistic.” Under his cap, he slicked his brown strands back. “The three of you seem to be so tense all the time. Obviously, that can’t be good for your health--” 

You cracked out with laughter. “You’re being ludicrous, Your Highness. We have to be on high alert at all times--” 

“I said, that you could call me Chan, remember?” He rather languidly spread out his legs in his seat, removing his glasses for moment. “How about, when we go to Egypt, I take you out somewhere nice to eat? We can relax, talk, get to know eachother more--” 

You raised your hand up to silence him. “--If this is just a ploy to get me alone, I politely rescind the offer. Here I was thinking that you were concerned about all three of us...” 

“--I am!” Chan quickly piped, “I-I’ll take you all out for dinner! But...but...you’ll have to allow me to take you out for drink then. Just the two of us. I still hold to my word of wanting to get to know you.” 

The prince’s face was puffed and bloated, and scraped with little pink and red cuts, but nothing stopped him from pulling out his signature charming and persuasive grin. 

“Try to kiss me again, and I won’t hesitate. You might be royalty but I don’t ca--” 

“--Hmmm no promises.” Chan then cut in, his grin turned even more indulgent while you watched him inspect your frame in that god-awful scratchy blouse. 

Next to you, Two let out a particularly amused sounding scoff of a laugh. 

“Forward as ever, Your Highness.” Jeongin deadpanned, then buried his nose in his coffee and newspaper once again. He hadn’t gotten to finish doing so earlier. 

Seungmin, the young student stifled his own laughter which then gradually got louder and louder. “I can’t fucking believe this. Me. Kim Seungmin, the most normal-ass person in the whole world with you four: a fucking prince, secret agents...and now we’re going to Egypt??? Egypt???” 

“Why does that sound like the set up to a shitty joke?” Two popped a bubble he had blown with the gum from the convenience store. Turns out he actually had a bit of a “gum habit” as he called it. 

“Settle down kid.” Jeongin said without his eyes leaving his paper. “You’ll make a scene.” 

The prince yawned, sliding his sunglasses back on. 

“I never really did end up getting as much sleep as I would’ve liked.” If you could’ve seen his eyes, you would’ve then seen him eye your shoulder. “May I?” he politely asked. 

Rather than giving him an answer, you rolled your head around as if to say do I need to? 

Chan let out a happy little hum after resting his head on your shoulder, nuzzling in slightly. 

You met your partner’s side eye, and he repeated for you, I really fucking hate this babysitting thing. 

“Thank you Bee.” Chan softly muttered, almost too quiet for you to hear. “I really do owe you everything.” He was careful at first, but he reached out his hand to rest it atop of yours. While the action made you twitch at first, you remembered how the same action had calmed him in the van when you had escaped the gala. 

You told yourself that you were just being nice. 

The young kid pulled out a journal from his backpack and started scribbling something, Two popped a bubble, snapping it on his unnaturally white teeth, and Jeongin sipped at his coffee. 

This really was the set up to a shitty joke. 

A woman cleared her throat over the intercom and announced, Flight C1180 to Cairo will be boarding in one hour. Thank you for flying with us today. 

~🌹~

Bunch of (Ro)ses! 

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @eunaeiekim @lunarskzzz

[rvmmm21]

[ V V S her diamonds ] – ch 05.

[10:10 a.m] Joohyun turns over, rustling the sheets like autumn leaves. She sleepily buries her face into the warmth of a sky-blue Chrome Hearts hoodie.

. . . . .

Seungwan looks up from the sink and over to the living room. Her head still pounds a little but the Ibuprofen seems to be kicking in. A soft smile traces her lips as she sees who’s asleep on the sofa. It really sucks that they’re both such hardworking students who’d rather be an hour late to a class than miss it, because it’s surely a crime to disturb someone so at peace they’re almost glowing in the sun’s morning rays.

And if the rumours are true, It’s also probably a crime to have her here at all. Seungwan thinks of all the ways she could get arrested for harbouring gangster daughters of mob leaders but ends up losing herself in the composition of Joohyun’s sleeping face.

Even her friends believed that whole dumb ‘secret gangster life’, but Seungwan doesn’t recall gangsters tossing and turning with such fluffy bed hair, looking so cute and tiny in her favourite oversized hoodie.

Joohyun rouses to the sound of gentle clinking and running water. 

The faint scent of alcohol and detergent seeps into her nose and she yawns, trying to engulf herself in the toasty heat radiating across her body from– not her hoodie. Glancing down, she realises she doesn’t own the waffle beige pajama pants currently hugging her legs either.

Oh? 

Suddenly feeling embarrassed, the older girl shifts off the sofa and grabs her own denim shorts from the floor beside her.

Minutes later, socked feet pad over to the girl in the kitchen, elbow-deep in sudsy water. Seungwan acts surprised when Joohyun hops onto the counter next to the sink. 

“Morning, unnie,” she chirps, “did you sleep well?”

Joohyun hums an affirmative and nothing more, but the other girl already senses the multitude of questions running through her head.

“It’s okay, unnie,” she laughs sheepishly, causing an eyebrow to perk up. She gestures to the hoodie swallowing Joohyun’s petite frame. “I didn’t see anything, I swear. I even let you choose which of my pants you wanted.”

“Oh,” comes the reply. “What happened? Kinda hard to remember.”

Seungwan just smiles down. “I wouldn’t be surprised, unnie. You really went ham last night. I didn’t think you had it in you. It was fun to watch.”

Joohyun scoffs, running delicate fingers through disheveled waves. She pauses to watch the younger rinsing out the empty Hite Jinro bottles and stacking them upside down on the dish rack. “Why did you let me sleep? I could– I should’ve gone home.”

The girl shoots a quick glance in her direction, eyes widening at the way Joohyun’s bare thighs press together in her line of sight. She gulps and flutters a few blinks, shifting her attention back to the glass and sponge. “It– it wasn’t safe so late, even for a cab. It’s fine though,” she quickly adds, “Seul’s bus only arrives this evening, and Yerimie texted this morning saying she ate through Saeron’s fridge so she’s coming home tonight. So it wasn’t like you were intruding or anything.”

Joohyun suppresses a slight grin at the girl’s rosy ears. She plucks a freshly rinsed glass from Seungwan’s slippery grip.

“How do you get these so sparkly, Wan?” She inspects it like an artefact, completely changing the pace and throwing the junior off guard. “You could sell this to a museum, I bet.” 

“I’m a barista, remember? It’s kinda the other third of my job.” Seungwan chuckles at the thought of her scratched up Ikea glasses in glass displays of their own, with fanatics fawning and taking pictures. 

She racks the last glass and dries her hands. “Come on, unnie. We’re running a bit late. I know you can’t function without your caffeine so it’ll have to be campus coffee today.”

Joohyun’s eyes double in size and she claps. “Really? Wow I love that–”

Seungwan whips around to narrow her eyes.

“–you’re willing to lower your standards for me.” 

“Thought so.”

. . . . .

[1:00 p.m] Son Seungwan stares at her strawberry-cream sandwich as her brain flicks through memories of last night. 

. . . . . 

“Yah,” Yerim fakes a punch right at Seungwan’s face, immediately flinging the girl from her spiraling thoughts. “Hell-o? Son Seung-wan re-port to base im-me-di-ate-ly,” she announces robotically, mimicking speaking into a walkie talkie. 

“Huh? Yerimie?”

Yerim rolls her eyes. “ Finally. You good? You’ve been spaced out since lit this morning.”

She doesn’t get to ask why she saw her and Joohyun stumbling in through the fire exit twenty minutes late before three people– including the very person in question– are making their way over to the table.

Two trays set down on either side of Seungwan and one beside Yerim. They try not to drool at the sight of the fancy dishes; grilled beef simmered in sukiyaki broth, steaming chicken curry rice, golden-brown battered tempura udon accompanied by side snacks like cubed fruit and matcha ice cream. And don’t even start on the cream-topped, sprinkled drinks.

Because of the sheer number of study sessions they’ve organised, both parties quickly became more comfortable around each other.

“Hello,” Jennie greets while finding the perfect angle to Instagram her lunch. “You were gone a while Yerim-ah. Did you miss us?”

“Pshh, as if.” The girl tries to sound nonchalant but the excitement in her eyes is impossible to mask.

“Sure, kid,” Jennie smirks, and Yerim immediately breaks the fluster building inside her with that stupid bus joke Seungwan’s heard a thousand times. 

Still, it gets the laughter pouring in.

Seungwan is internally awe-stricken. Yerimie is a freaking natural.

The table dissolves into mundane chatter, everyone eager to catch up with what each other’s done over the long weekend. Movies are discussed, restaurants are rated and stories are exchanged. 

The voices fade into background noise that eventually falls right back as Seungwan starts to wonder things. Silly things. 

From across her, she follows Joohyun’s steady hand, deftly gripping the springy udon between chopsticks and masterfully twirling them into the spoon for the perfect mouthful. She remembers that fist punching Lucas in the nose, remembers the lipstick bruises staining sharp knuckles, and then she wonders if that’s the first time something’s ever made her physically violent. 

Then her gaze discreetly travels to Joohyun’s lips as she chews. Seungwan wonders the worst thing that has ever come from a mouth as pretty as hers. She wonders if she knows that she tightens the clamp around her bruised heart every time she calls her ‘Wan’, wants to know what it’d feel like to–

“Um, Seungwan?”

The poor kid is only just now realising her daydream is sitting right across her, talking to her roommate and best friend. “You’re right. She’s really spaced out today, huh.” She aims a coy smile at a hapless Seungwan, watching as rouge scribbles across those milky cheeks. “Is something wrong, Seungwan?”

“No, no! I’m fine!” she laughs, nibbling on the corner of her sandwich. “I’m just a little tired I guess.”

“Duh,” Sooyoung casually blurts. “Who knows what time you guys ended up sleeping last night.” 

Jennie flinches to interject with some random statement to shut her the hell up but the cat’s already out of the bag.

“I’m sorry, what?!” Yerim cocks her head so hard she looks like a right-angle ruler. Jennie sighs at their idiot friend. Joohyun stays silent but her eyes twinkle mischievously, chin poised on an open palm. 

Seungwan can’t breathe, she can’t look away, and she can’t move to help Yerim pick her jaw off the ground.

She can’t process any of it.

Not when Joohyun looks that pretty just… being.

. . . . . 

[7:00 p.m] Seulgi barges in and immediately starts handing out little freebies and trinkets she’d acquired from her weekend dance trip. Her roommates are smitten with studio keychains, logo-embroidered plush face towels and a singular roll of toe-wrap tape.

. . . . .

“Wan-ah, what the heck? She spent the night?” Seulgi frantically points at the now cluttered sofa. “On that?” 

Yerim nods solemnly, putting on her best betrayed expression. “And I heard it from Sooyoung unnie. The betrayal is real right now.”

The dancer perks up slightly. “Sooyoungie? How is she?”

The youngest laughs. “Right, how could I forget you guys are practically dating right now. ”

Seungwan reassures her with a pat on the back and a sly wink. “She’s fine, Seul. Miss her much?” 

The girl hastily splutters a denial but the dust of pink settled in her cheeks tells quite a different story.

Yerim gets them back on track, waving a towel between her two friends’ faces. “Hello, Joohyun unnie plus Seungwan unnie? In the same room? Unattended?”

Seungwan gives up with tantrum legs kicking into the air to relieve the embarrassing heat in her face. “Ahh, it was nothing!!!” 

“Wan, there are four Hite bottles in the dishrack and it was nothing??” Seulgi asks suspiciously. “Does she know that?” 

[my-love-peterp]

A Part of Your World pt. 2

Word Count: 1505

Fic Summary: So this is a work based lightly on the movie First Daughter. It’s a Reader Insert sorta. If you’ve never seen that movie, you should absolutely watch it if you have the opportunity. Peter Parker/Stark!Daughter fic. Rating may change depending on if I’m feeling the smut route (I probably will). Expect updates once a week (as soon as I figure out what day would be best to do it on. They may be more frequent here at the beginning just because the story is really flowing right now. Thanks!

Chapter Summary: I don’t really have one because I’m impatient and I’m taking my partner to see Hozier in a few hours. But Peter does exist in this chapter. Surprise.

Warnings: none! maybe language, I’m honestly not sure.

If you would like to be tagged, reblog/comment/message me and I’ll start tagging you in future chapters. 

“I’m too sober for this,” (Y/N) said, plopping down on to the horrifically springy, undressed mattress that was on top of a wooden bed frame. Her bed frame now, she firmly reminded herself.

“You don’t even drink,” Morgan responded, a lot less winded and emotionally drained than (Y/N). She’d always admired her sister’s ability to remain unruffled in the midst of tense or new situations. And yeah, maybe it hadn’t been the best idea to ditch the elevator and take the stairs to her new home for the year, all the way up on the sixteenth floor. But she couldn’t stand the feeling of brushing shoulders with what felt like hundreds of people who stared and lifted their phones to take pictures, or to see one girl turn to someone else and hit them to get their attention and not so subtly pointing to her and Morgan when they had it.

“Yeah, well, maybe I should start,” (Y/N) answered noncommittally. She flopped down on to my future roommate’s bed right across the room. She hadn’t taken the time to read their profile as she’d been emailed it. She wanted to go into this experience blind. And yeah, with her father’s resources and connections, she could’ve known every single aspect of the mystery roommate’s life if she’d wanted to. But (Y/N) wanted to go in blind. Be a normal kid for once. Especially with Mom doing what she was right now.

Suddenly, the door burst open behind them. Lugging in a mini fridge and two bags, Happy grunted and panted as he nudged his way inside. Morgan sat as if to help him but as soon as he saw her move to sit up he barked, “No, no stay where you’re at! I’ve got this, it’s nothing.” His red face indicated he was definitely lying. But nothing came between Happy and his pride.

“It’s not every day,” he said, pausing to pant after setting the fridge down on the countertops, “that your goddaughter goes off to college.”

“Yeah you’re right Hap, it’s not every day that a girl is escorted to her dorm room by her family’s Forehead of Security. Or has to avoid reporters pressing their faces against their lobby windows. Or has the seclude herself until her mother and father and their Secret Service protection detail can join them, since no one was currently on ‘daughters watch’,” (Y/N) made air quotes with her fingers, grumbling about the debacle that had occurred earlier today.

“I don’t trust him,” Morgan remarked from her couch as (y/n) scrambled to get everything she could possibly fathom needing in her dorm room packed into her father’s latest invention. It was basically a play on Dum-E, but with storage that the robot packed her things into itself, to maximize storage efficiency.

“Well, of course, you don’t trust him,” (Y/N) replied, “He’s on the Bachelor. That’s like, a parade of red flags right there.

“(Y/N),” Morgan scoffed, scandalized, her head popping up and over the back of the blue cushions, “it’s the Bachelorette, not the Bachelor, we’ve been over this. Plus, we personally know someone on this season, you should be watching!”

“I’ve seen Pietro make enough stupid decisions in my life to know that this doesn’t rank in the top three, and as such, I will not be acknowledging it.”

The sun had just barely begun to trickle in through the windows, and the watch she’d made herself showed that it was just past 6:15. Why she had procrastinated packing last minute, she couldn’t tell you. Maybe it just felt like the end of something fragile. Or whatever. Her watch caught the first true rays of sunlight and bounced refracted light straight into her eyes. (Y/N) winced but paused to admire her creation. The main metal straddled a fine line between her father’s favored cherry red, and the more toned down rose gold that was all the rage just a few year’s ago. Accented along the outside of the watch frame were little webbings of ice blue, too intentional to be called marbling but too non-descript to look like a spider’s web. Every other accent on the watch was a pearly white.

All of a sudden, Morgan’s phone started blaring the most awful noises she’d ever heard, causing (Y/N) to jump what felt like five feet in the air. She could hear Happy’s exasperated voice shouting into his receiver even halfway across the room. It seemed that she and Morgan were late for fittings and makeup for an impromptu morning press junket.

Those were happening more and more frequently these days, ever since her mother resigned as CEO of her father’s company, relegating it back to him, which he handled begrudgingly, and running for the US Senate. That was ten years ago. Now, her mother, Pepper, was the current frontrunner for the presidency. As if her life wasn’t high-profile enough as one of two daughter’s of the most powerful couple in the world probably.

It seemed that, due to Pepper’s skillful negotiation tactics, dozens of political prisoners were being released back to the United States today. And that meant the mother of all press conferences. On the day that she was moving into her new home for the next several months.

(Y/N) and Morgan were then harried about to get ready by FRIDAY, and AI program her father had invented long ago, in the form of the original JARVIS. Unfortunately, his coding and learned personality were lost when an earthquake struck southern California and shook the Malibu mansion off its cliffside seat and into the murky depths below. Okay, that may be a bit dramatic, but sue her, something needed to spice up the story of life in perpetually sunny SoCal.

Within thirty minutes she and her sister were presentable and ready to head down to where Happy was waiting in the car.

And to make a long story short, (Y/N) had managed to not only nearly knock down the lectern on the stage where her mother would be speaking shortly, but in the fall, she twisted her ankle all the way around. Nothing was broken, campaign medical staff had assured her, but any dummy would know that that footage was right then being broadcast on every phone, StarkTech or otherwise, throughout the nation. So in reality, her ego was bruised and battered more than her ankle was.

What got to her the most, though, was her constant characterization as cold and unfriendly. Of course, the reputation was probably well deserved, as she’d spat in a reporter’s face when she was just fifteen years old. But over time, she’d learned how to stop engaging, how to tamp down her temper. She’d learned that, when her mother was that age, she was quite the spitfire herself. Aunt Peggy would always tattle on her.

So it stung to know that she’d made progress in order to become a more ‘press-perfect’ daughter, just for them to turn around and make jokes about the stick up her ass or that she’d been replaced by an android of her father’s own creation.

And now here they were, hours later, as her mom had to make one last campaign stop before taking the presidential shoes off and trading them for her mom sneakers.

“...I’ll just uh… go get more of the bags from the car then,” Happy stammered, quickly excusing himself from the room.

Silence, comfortable and relaxing silence, filled the space between (Y/N) and Morgan. Of course, you could still hear the bustle of the New York streets below, but her floor seemed to be deserted.

(Y/N)’s eyelids began to droop, growing heavy after such an early morning, but she was abruptly shaken awake by a crashing sound outside her door, that only got louder as the door swung open.

In tumbled a brunette boy with wavy-ish hair and a toothy grin-turned-grimace. His hands were full of what looked like salvaged electronic parts. “Sorry about the noise,” he gasped out between breaths, “I didn’t want to make more than one trip and it seems I overestimated my grip.

Behind him wheeled in a huge suitcase. A few steps after that and an older lady stepped inside. His mother, (Y/N) assumed. Standing up from her spot on her unmade bed, she approached the woman, asking if she needed a hand. She was swiftly turned down and told to relax but (Y/N) didn’t miss the flare of recognition in the woman’s eyes as she put two and two together.

(Y/N) quickly spun around as the boy dumped all of the metal pieces and wires on to his desk before turning to face her and sticking out his hand. “Nice to meet you! I’m Peter. Peter Parker. What’s your name?”

(Y/N) grinned back. She hadn’t had to introduce herself in a long time. But something nagged her from the back of her mind. Peter Parker sounded awfully familiar.

[paulisweeabootrash]

First Impression: Neon Genesis Evangelion

Get in your robots, audience, it's time for Paul is Weeaboo Trash!  And today, I'm finally watching a show it seems like everyone just... assumes I must've seen:

Neon Genesis Evangelion (1995)

Episodes watched: 8

Platform: Netflix

The idea of something being a "classic" may be in decline in the anime fandom, or at least be getting very specialized, since "anime" no longer implies a narrow interest in specific sci-fi and fantasy subgenres like it used to, but certain shows still manage to pervade the pop culture indirectly.  Neon Genesis Evangelion is one such show, enduring in the modern fandom and general internet culture because of its status as one of those old sci-fi anime classics.  It has contributed memes — not just as in image macros or running jokes, but as in units of culture in the form of iconic quotes or character designs or elements of the plot — to the point that you have certainly been in some way exposed to them without any knowledge of the source material.  But despite its reputation as a must-see cultural touchstone, it has been out of print in America for years.  Used copies of the DVDs sell for absurd prices, and I don't think I knew anyone who owned it when I was a young weeb in the mid-2000s.  I'm fairly sure my family did not have cable during the one specific season it was on Adult Swim, and there's no chance I would have been up at 12:30AM on Thursdays to watch it anyway.  I am not much of a fan of media piracy and wasn't even aware of that option when it was apparently everyone else's favorite pastime to ruin their computers with sketchy torrents.  So there was never a reasonable way for me to watch it, only for me to be dimly aware that this was An Important Show I Need To See.  Until now.  Because it's on Netflix.  As if I hadn't already been awaiting it, I was aggressively reminded of it, because social media and geeky news outlets were soon blowing up with retrospectives and Very Serious Analyses — and fans of the old ADV translation were offering hot takes on how Netflix's release compares.  So let me finally check this out for myself.

We start out in the distant future of... 2015, where UN forces are defending Tokyo-3 ("Old Tokyo" is mentioned and depicted later; no mention yet of Tokyo-2 unless I somehow already forgot it) against an attacking "angel", an immensely powerful alien with barely-comprehensible powers.  Meanwhile, an officer of a UN agency called NERV, Misato Katsuragi, brings our main character, 14-year-old Shinji Ikari, to an underground NERV base under Tokyo-3 on the instructions of Shinji's father Gendo, who runs a secret research project.  Shinji has been brought there to pilot an Evangelion, or Eva for short, a giant robot operated by some sort of neural interface.  In combat.  With no training.  He is, understandably, not happy about this.  After seeing how badly injured the other available pilot, Rei Ayanami, is, however, he agrees to do it — and it works far better than he or anyone else expected.  He apparently has an innately great ability to "sync" with however exactly the Eva's interface works.  But this only gets him as far as starting the thing up.  When he actually engages the angel, he has trouble just getting the Eva to walk, and he feels the pain of the Eva taking damage once attacked, a frankly horrifying feature of the interface.  We cut to him waking up in a hospital, but having surprisingly won because his Eva "went berserk", operating on its own.  A flashback later shows what happened when he lost control of the Eva: it fought the angel by itself, but also took heavy damage, and we see its visor? faceplate? sōmen? of the Eva's armor come off to reveal a fleshy-looking face and a very biological-looking eye.  At this point Shinji blacked out, which is really the only reasonable response to this situation.

Over the next several weeks (the time scale is vague, but since Rei apparently fully recovers from the injuries she had when we first saw her before the time she and Shinji are both deployed, it must be at least 3 weeks between eps. 1 and 5), more angels appear, to the surprise of civilians and UN forces alike.  The Evas continue to be excellent weapons against them (though Shinji himself is still, uh, not great at using them), but despite having now killed several angels, the Evas are considered a ridiculous boondoggle by personnel of other UN branches, and Gendo's sinister superiors seem to be losing patience with his project.  In the words of... uh... that UN navy guy in ep. 8, "Shit!  A bunch of kids are supposed to save the world?"  The alternatives are wildly ineffective conventional weapons and a remote-controlled nuclear-powered giant robot that almost had a literal Chernobyl-style meltdown, which was averted by Misato and Shinji.  Although repairs are expensive, injuries common, and pilots in short supply, Evas indeed seem to be the only effective weapon against the invading cosmic horror, the barely-comprehensible aliens that are impervious to ordinary human technology and also don't fit our concepts of life or... uh... possibly physics.  So, instead, in the words of Misato later in the same episode, "This plan may be insane, but I don't think it's impossible."

While this is going on, Shinji has been adjusting to this new life poorly and slowly.  Despite being a pilot, he is still after all a 14-year-old, so he is enrolled into the same class as Rei at a local school whose student body has dwindled as more people evacuate over the initial angel attack.  He also needs somewhere to live, so Misato arranges for him to move into her apartment.  Some of Shinji's classmates think he's incredibly lucky to live with her, and spend a good deal of their screen time drooling over her, but Shinji is highly uncomfortable around her not just because Captain Katsuragi is his commanding officer, but also because she has a tendency to not wear much clothing around the house and is, er, a bit of a drunk and a slob.  Oh, and she has an inexplicable, clawed, beer-drinking penguin.  You know, all stuff that would make a nervous, lonely, scared 14-year-old completely at home.

Neither NERV training nor school guarantee a community, though, and Shinji, isolated and confused, could sure use one right about now.  He seems quite likely traumatized from the first battle.  He keeps ending up in situations that make him wildly uncomfortable while other characters take them in stride.  He repeatedly attempts to quit NERV or at least defy orders before backing out (or... backing back in?) at the last moment.  It would frankly be bizarre that they accept him doing this, except that (1) nobody really seems to take Shinji that seriously anyway, (2) he's the boss's kid, and (3) most importantly, it seems that only a small number of pilots, all the same age as Shinji and Rei, are even capable of using Evas.  (Wife and I are starting to suspect reasons why this might be, especially given the whole cyborgs with neural interfaces thing, but... uh... let's not embarrass ourselves with public speculations about the plot of a ridiculously famous show almost as old as we are.)  He only slowly gains any support or comfort from his new classmates and colleagues.  They don't reach out to him, and he certainly doesn't reach out to them, because who is he supposed to talk to?  His roommate/commanding officer who is twice his age?  His classmates who treat him as a celebrity, not a person, once they find out he's an Eva pilot?  Even if his default state since the very first episode hadn't been basically imploding into despair with no idea how to communicate that anything's wrong, there's nobody that really makes sense for him to try to communicate it to.  Except one person: Rei.  He notices that she's also isolated at school, and especially after seeing her dark, miserable, unmaintained apartment, he attempts to be friendly towards her.  I thought this might be a hint of growth indicating that he understands she is possibly the only person more isolated than him and the only one who might be able to relate to him, but then the next time he threatens to quit NERV after that conversation, he explicitly claims she doesn't know what he's going though, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ maybe he just has bad social skills.

Sigh.

Shinji does start to make friends with Aida and Suzuhara, two of his classmates, though.  And it's interesting because they contrast against him in their reactions to the conflict outside.  Aida roleplays being in the military and finds Shinji's role as an Eva pilot glorious and enviable.  Suzuhara is initially furious at Shinji because his sister was collateral damage — she was injured when Shinji fought the angel — and his mind is changed only after Shinji rescues him (and Aida) from an angel.  Shinji, though, having been thrust into a role he doesn't even understand and about which he is ambivalent and unstable, lacks Aida's optimistic admiration of his role and a full appreciation of either Suzuhara's resentment or gratitude.  He not only rejects their praise, he calls himself a coward during (sigh) one of his attempts to quit NERV.  It occurs to me that this could be seen as indicating different perspectives about the military (ask any American vet who's sick of being "thanked for their service"), or even different perspectives about adulthood itself — I'll bet any millennial who did not achieve their dreams can recognize Aida's "wow this is amazing I can't wait to be a grownup too" roleplaying vs. Shinji's "I am doomed and isolated by the responsibility that has been thrown at me" actual experience in NERV.

Also thanks to the school scenes, we start to learn some backstory, including the famous "Second Impact".  A catastrophic asteroid impact in 2000 melted Antarctica's glaciers, which led to unprecedentedly rapid sea level rise, leading to mass extinction, including that of half of humanity through not only direct climate change impacts like displaced populations and crop failures but also conflict stemming from it.  Or so the official story goes.  It is later revealed that the Second Impact actually involved somehow the previous arrival of angels on Earth, although this has yet to be explained in detail.  (Actually, I accidentally saw spoilers about more detail about this while revising this review, because I went to sanity-check myself about some other detail on one of the fan wikis, so I know part of where this is going, but only part.)

Over the first eight episodes, which must be several weeks at least after the start of the show given that Rei has recovered from her initial injuries (although the time scale is very vague), Shinji fights four angels total and gradually improves, but the biggest improvement comes not from him being an individual hero but from finally working well with others.  For example, the octahedral angel that drills into NERV's base has incredible abilities to detect and counter incoming attacks.  It kicks Shinji's ass on the first attempt, because duh.  But Misato devises a plan to test its abilities and concentrate the power of... uh... Japan's entire electrical grid(?!) at it from a safe distance, and the plan succeeds only because of Rei giving Shinji cover.  An angel attacks a UN ship convoy transporting the third pilot, Asuka Langley Soryu, and her Eva, and she and Shinji fight the angel together in a ludicrous fight that involves both cramming in to pilot the same Eva together (which, interestingly, requires them to give it the same, or maybe just compatible, instructions together in the same language for it to work... yay neural interfaces).  So maybe/hopefully the direction this is going is "the chosen one is a stupid idea and even talented people need both training and cooperation to not suck at things"?

Episode 8 leaves off with Asuka joining Shinji and Rei's school class, and with the dramatic and creepy reveal of an embryo encased in bakelite which is described by Gendo as "Adam, the first human"...  Well.  That comes off as the kind of thing that would drive the future plot, and hopefully all the Biblical imagery will finally start to converge into something coherent instead of just sort of serving to draw extra attention to the fact that the humans refer to the aliens as "angels".  I've been wondering about that since the beginning.  There's the title, of course, but also the sefirot in the opening and on Gendo's office ceiling, the first angel's attacks using what appears to be a directed energy weapon which invariably forms glowing crosses, and the fact that most of the angels themselves are wildly non-humanoid (a choice which echoes the rather... eldritch... classical depictions of angels — see also the seraph in the opening).  NERV's motto is even explicitly, well, monotheistic at least, if not sectarian: "God's in his heaven.  All's right with the world!", which is counterintuitive at best with the idea of calling the alien invaders "angels".

Well.  I'll find out, and I plan to write a followup like I did with Re:ZERO, going into the broad swaths of the rest of the plot and my overall impressions of how they handled things.  Especially given that this show has a famously-controversial ending.  I jumped into this determined to watch the whole series, so I'm not backing out.

I'll just threaten to quit repeatedly then almost immediately come back.

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W/A/S: 4 / 3 / I feel kinda bad about this but 4?

Weeb: I mean, anything with giant robots fighting giant monsters deserves a few points just for that, right?  I don't think this requires much by way of Japanese cultural references or assumptions to watch, though.

Ass: Nudity so far has been brief, partial, censored by convenient angles and object placement, and not remotely sexy.  Thanks to another contextless spoiler I happen to have picked up, I expect an infamous later scene that is clearly supposed to be sad and disturbing in context, which is, again, not the kind of thing this scale was originally designed to describe.

Shit (writing): Even though I tend to overall like their plots, I always sort of sigh and eyeroll at the "let's put children/teens in combat and/or experiment on and/or just plain torture them to force them to become powerful" storyline formula that’s been semi-popular for the last few decades, and Evangelion is definitely in that category.  Friends have said the story is confusing or poorly-paced, and I kind of agree but also think some of the confusion is warranted by the choice to enter the story in media res in order to reveal what's going on to the audience at about the same time it's revealed to Shinji.  As for the tendency to have some long shots where literally nothing happens, that does get annoying, and I suspect its primary motivation was to save money, but I think it also usually emphasizes how lonely the whole situation is, at least before Shinji starts to warm up to Misato and Rei to Shinji in the last couple of episodes I've watched so far (which have, appropriately, had much more action and interaction).  Mainly, my writing complaints are actually about translation, because there are some noticeable and consequential differences between translations for the sub and dub.  Yeah, yeah, I've heard of the love vs. like thing everyone on the internet is already upset about, but I haven't gotten to that episode yet.  I'm talking about things like Misato saying "it will work!" in the sub vs. just "okay!" in the dub when Shinji is first able to control his Eva, a choice which suggests very different things about both her level of knowledge of the project and why Shinji has been called on for it at all.  The new dub also feels... uh... too at home as a dub of a '90s anime, as it prioritizes matching lip flaps over flowing like believable speech.  Having not seen the old dub, of course, I can't make any kind of judgement about whether this is a step up, down, or sideways from how ADV did it.  And the sub has many on-screen captions in Japanese are left untranslated — not things like signs in the background, but actual captions the audience is meant to get information from.

Shit (other): Maybe we're spoiled in this age of computer-aided art, but i's surprising to see a show with such limited animation — speech conveyed only with lip flaps, obviously reused shots within the same episode, foreground objects gracelessly sliding against a background to indicate movement — and so I'm willing to give the show a pass on most of that, especially since the characters are distinctive and the setting and aliens and robots so interesting.  Much of the limited animation actually serves to show the vast scale of NERV's facilities and the Evas vs. the humans and/or to emphasize loneliness like the pacing.  But there really are some painful mistakes from time to time in the art: objects and faces that look utterly wrong, like the artists just did not successfully figure out how to draw that particular character or vehicle from that particular angle.  The legendary opening theme is certainly catchy — it’s been stuck in my head almost continuously for the past week — but I just don’t think I enjoy it as much as other people do.  Some of the immediate complaints that were apparently worthy of news media attention were about the replacement of Fly Me to the Moon with a piece from the show's soundtrack as the ending theme.  I understand why people would be upset by that kind of change, but I am willing to take the controversial stand that it's not a bad change.  The piece they chose as a replacement is haunting and tense, which fits in with the mood of most of the episodes so far, while Fly Me to the Moon feels to me like an inappropriate mood change from that.

Content: Actually among the least graphic of the various shows I've covered involving violent or horrifying elements.

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Stray observations:

- God it was weird to write this by constantly abbreviating “Evangelion” as “Eva”, considering that Wife's name is Eva.

- A lot of people seem to hate Shinji as a character, but I find him understandable in a way that probably implies uncomfortable things about my own sanity.  I just... I understand that sheer degree of doom and misery and indecision and inability to articulate any of those.  Man.  Ugh.

- I don't know if you've ever seen an undisguised angel, but trust me: they're horrifying.  (link NSFW)

[scienceworldtraveler-blog]

Day 9 Coronapocalypse 3/25/2020 [Salt Lake City has 1362 hospital beds for a metro population of 200,000, number of ICU beds in Salt Lake City is unknown at this time but likely around 50-100, New York State has 3000 ICU beds. The population of New York is about 20 million. Confirmed coronavirus cases in Utah 346, confirmed cases in New York 37,258. Utah deaths 4, New York 385, US 1079]

 “Here are the masks!” I tromped through the snow at the base of Lamb’s canyon. My van parked precariously and likely to get stuck. I waved a packet of N95 masks at Mindy and she took them and puts them in her SUV. I have been remodeling my duplex and happened to have about 15 masks. “Thanks”, she replied, putting on her snowshoes. Mindy is from New Hampshire and has that dark, eastern sarcasm, and none of the LDS niceties more common in our state. She is tall, with dark hair and pale, perfect skin. I used to help Mindy in chemistry when she was in nursing school and she read Tarot cards for me, in exchange. The Tarot was more fun than the chemistry. I tutored until I realized she was as smart as a whip and didn’t need my help. She made jokes online, like “Electrons are the sluts of the atomic world.” This type of thing is only funny to scientists and I won’t try to explain it to you.

 “How’s nursing?” I asked. This unleashes a torrent of information, for the rest of our hike. I listened intently, wanting to get the real deal, rather than from news accounts. My nurse friend in California had been evicted from her house over contagion fears. Not officially evicted, because that’s illegal. But when your landlord is also your roommate, she can make it uncomfortable enough that you just have to leave. Mindy has been applying for other jobs, she told me, but she hasn’t heard back. She emails everyday asking about jobs.

 “I think I’m getting anxiety. Last night I thought I was having a heart attack. I couldn’t breathe. My daughter was crying, asking if she’s going to die.”

 “No,” I countered, “I don’t think anyone under 9 has died in the entire world. At least not last week”

 Mindy explained that she is a landlord too; her husband manages all the properties, but they don’t bring in much money over the cost of the mortgage.

 “I’d quit, but I have to make the mortgage. I’ve got a house full of bartenders at one property. Do you think they’ll pay? And so far, the mortgage companies aren’t forgiving anything.”

 “How would that work anyway?” I asked. I am a landlord too, but my tenant has paid early. She’s teaching online at Salt Lake Community College. “Would you owe 4 months all at once, at the end of the outbreak, if they defer mortgage?”

 “Well, they could put it at the end of the mortgage, making it a 31-year loan, instead of 30.”

 “Oh, I see,” I replied. “That would be great. They probably won’t though.”

 “I’ve got no daycare, but my husband can watch the kids while I work,” Mindy complained.

 “What kind of nurse are you anyway?”

 “I work for an agency,” Mindy replied, “so I’m floating. I go everywhere.”

 “What about the masks? How short are you?”

 “I got about 8 hours into a 12 hour shift yesterday before they could rustle up a mask for me,” she replied, “this was at the hospital.”

 “Jesus!” I replied, “how many do you usually use per shift.”

 “Just one,” she answered.

 “What? They can’t find even one?” This surprised me. I figured nurses would go through dozens of masks per shift. Maybe some do. “And gloves? Do they have gloves?”

 Mindy proceeded to tell me a horrific story of the nursing home she is staffed at. I’ve heard stories about nursing homes; we all have. And yesterday I read that in Spain a dozen elderly were found abandoned, dead, in a nursing home.

 “We have shortages of drugs all the time. It’s not just the coronavirus. Things like clonidine or even glucometer strips for monitoring blood sugar for diabetics. I have 20-24 patients so I can’t order things. I’m not a robot. There’s always some asshole manager who takes about 20 smoke breaks a day and doesn’t keep up on the ordering.”

 “Glucometer strips?” I asked, appalled. Lack of glucose monitoring is a death sentence for a diabetic.

 “And they don’t run out of gloves, but they don’t have the right size. Hey, I can’t help it if I have man hands. The aides just don’t keep up on things. There was this one guy with a colostomy bag and they didn’t empty it. Then he rolled over and broke it. There was poop all over the place and they were out of large gloves. Somebody brought me a box of medium and they wanted me to clean it up. I put one on and it broke. I just told them to get someone with smaller hands! I wouldn’t do it.”

 “Good for you!” I exclaimed.

 “I’m not going to deal with this. MRSA is all over the place and no large gloves.”  I remembered MRSA is a deadly antibiotic resistant skin disease caused by Staphlococcus bacteria.

 “What’s caused by coronavirus and what’s regular shortages?” I asked.

 “The masks and the glove issues are from coronavirus, I feel like” she explained, “but the drug problem is just all the time.”

 Mindy goes on to tell me about the hospital situation. It’s snowing up the canyon and the trees are rimmed in white. A snowmobiler passes us to get to his cabin. This helps me, as I can follow his track instead of pushing through the powder. We are breathing hard and stop to talk.

 “I work in this one respiratory unit and some people should just die. I have this one kid, he’s 27 and a veg. Like a vegetable. He’s got some pain response but that’s it. He had an asthma attack when he was 17 and he couldn’t breathe for ten minutes! Ten minutes! He’s been hooked up to a ventilator for ten years. His family hasn’t even been in to see him and he’s on full code.”

 “Full code? What’s that?” I asked.

 “It means you have to do everything you can to keep someone alive.” Ventilators are in short supply right now and I think of patients around the world who will never recover who are using the vital equipment. Will they have priority in an emergency? “And I have another woman with COPD whose whole life is defined by the length of her oxygen cord. She can’t leave the room. Not for years.” Like many nurses I’ve talked to, Mindy believes that death is sometimes better than life.

 “All non-emergency operations are canceled right now. Even chemotherapy. They would die anyway, but now they will die sooner,” Mindy says bluntly. She’s around death all the time, unlike the rest of us, and doesn’t feel the need to sugarcoat things. “I was supposed to have a polyp removed and they won’t do it. Won’t even schedule it in July. I was bleeding out of my ass like a bad period. It’s stopped now. They removed 4 polyps last year, but they were supposed to remove 5. I kept telling the nurse there’s 5 polyps not 4, check the paperwork, then I went under and they only took out 4. At the follow up, I had the doctor check the paperwork and sure enough it was five, so I scheduled surgery but now it’s canceled.”

 “I guess that’s an 80% chance they got it, then” I replied, referring to a potential cancerous polyp, and trying to be positive but wondering how many cancer patients would die during the outbreak. Cancer kills about ten times as many people as flu-like illnesses and about 4000 surgical mistakes occur in the US each year. 250,000 deaths are estimated to occur from medical errors each year. The hospital can be a  dangerous place, especially during an outbreak.

 “Have you even had any coronavirus patients?” I asked.

 “No,” she replied, “at least I don’t think so.” The conversation lightens slowly, and we head back down-canyon. We start talking about moving back East to a remote cabin in the woods. We both love Maine and property is relatively cheap. She wants to live on a lake in the woods and I want to live on the ocean. A place where you could have a garden and walk out your door into the woods alone if there were a pandemic. We talked about high school and our boyfriends back then. About husbands and ex-husbands and the benefits of being married versus being single. We wondered about online dating and how a bad situation in the dating world between the opposing forces of Tinder and MeToo must only be worse right now. I say I’m not looking for a boyfriend and she says she needs to appreciate her husband more. She laughs that one minute he wants to elbow bump her to avoid contagion and the next minute he wants to make out. As we reach the car, she thanks me for the masks again.

 “Do you need one for yourself?” she asked

 “No, I have one at home still. Keep them all for yourself,” I replied.

 “What about the other nurses?” she said.

 “I don’t know. Maybe you have to share but keep a lot for yourself,” I returned.

  I can see she’s struggling with the decision. I think of people at the grocery store I’ve seen wearing masks and people biking down the street with N95 masks. The takeout restaurant workers wearing gloves to make a burrito, and her struggling to get gloves to empty a colostomy bag.