#not gonna get uptight about who uses my flags

[redtail-lol]

Gay flags

So, the word gay can be gender neutral. Because of this, I made 3 gay labels.

Lesbigay

Meaning: A lesbian who considers themselves gay. Not the same as gaybian or lesgay, which are mixes between vincian/veldian/turian and lesbian.

Vincigay, Veldigay, Turigay or Cinthigay

Meaning: A vincian, veldian, turian, or cinthean (depending on which label they use) who considers themselves gay.

Enbigay

Meaning: An enbian who considers themselves gay.

All flags based on this gender neutral gay flag:

(no I didn't make it)

[praemonitor]

I'm feeling a lot better today, almost at my 100%. Thank you for your kind wishes.

Mi first draw to the fic? General of the First Order, Armitage Hux. I'm obsessed with that bastard, or rather, with the potential of what the canon could have had given to us, but finally didn't.

At first was a little bit daunting reading a 4 chapter unfinished fic with > 75k word count, but I decided to give it a go. I was engrossed with chapter 1 and 2, but what made me 150% invested in the story was minisode III, with all regarding the Finalizer and the quest of it's people for survival; it was amazing with the way you describe it, the tension, the urgency, the despair without failing into defeatism (Hux being a boss indeed.).

I remembered being pretty happy when I saw the update for minisode V (the mission on Naboo is one I re-read regularly), and I literally SCREAMED when a saw the update for minisode VI (I was at the office. I threw a glass of water to the floor to cover my fangirling from my coworkers XD) Needless to say, that that minisode grabbed me by the throat and will never let me go.

I came in for the terrible, uptight, brilliant and damaged Armitage, with the plus incentive of getting gingerpilot. I don't want to start waxing poetry about Poe, because I wouldn't have enough characters left on this ask, but that man? *Sigh* live rent free in my heart since TFA

BUT! all of this gushing for this two, is no a disparage for the Reylo. Canon Raylo never got my disapproval, but also never got me beyond "they're kinda cute together. That could be interesting" But their dinamic in the first of the new is richer a deeper, and a really absorbing facet of the story.

And your take and expansion of the secondary characters? They are everything. I wish Kes was my father (mine is not bad, but is in no way in Kes league. In. No. Way); Dopheld and Kaydel are (sometimes murderous) precious beans who deserve everything good in the galaxy; THE KNIGHTS OF REN, ALL OF THEM (TRoS made them dirty, is all I gonna say), I'm so pleased of how you tied them to the canon in their identities that I cannot believe how attached I am to them; and the Xionos, for better or for worse (fuck Hamada), and all of those from the Colossus and Resistance.

Everything in this story in rich, complex, and spellbinding, made with care, love and passion, like a intricate trapestry full of colors, forms a storys, open to us to appreciate and be in awe at.

Happy Star Wars and may the force be with you. Always

You've brightened my whole day, thank you so much for this message! I'm so excited you have a special place in your heart for Minisode III -- its "haunted ghost story" vibe was really fun to write. And I also loved writing Kes and Hux's dialogue in Minisode VI, what with the political dynamics between the Resistance/New Republic and the First Order as they learn to work together.

And of course, Dopheld Mitaka and Kaydel Ko Connix grabbed their very own side plot and ran with it, so good for them!! I have a very disorganized text document full of scene ideas for Rey and Ben, Poe and Hux, Mitaka and Connix... maybe someday those will see the light of day?? Right now they're an incoherent jumble of words, haha.

Honestly and truly, thank you so much for reaching out. The past year has been rough for me writing-wise. I've actually been trying to write an original novel, which should be fun and exciting, but I keep doubting my creative ability, convinced my plot ideas and original characters are no good.

Further fueling my anxiety, the novel I want to write revolves around controversial real-world topics that are really important to me personally, but I dread the thought of not doing these topics justice and unintentionally triggering online discourse. It really doesn't help that I sit on the sidelines of fandoms I love (i.e. Star Wars, Our Flag Means Death), watching fic writers and fan artists get harassed for any missteps -- real or perceived. It breaks my heart and leaves me too scared to write anything for fear of accidentally causing offense.

Which is all super frustrating because I LOVE writing. So thank you again for your kindness, support, and enthusiasm, and for reminding me why I love writing so much. Have an amazing day!!

[boylikeanangel]

The Dichotomy of Left and Right in Our Flag Means Death

this may be my most unhinged meta to date, everyone. I'm not going to attempt to make any specific point with this one; I simply would like to explore the significance placed on the concepts of the left and right hand sides of the body and how that relates to both the purpose some specific characters serve in the story, and also the way it tells us something about certain characters' worldview and emotional state. this one would have not been possible without my beloved friends in the ofmd discord server, so a big thanks to dyl @lucius-spriggs, milo @sockmonkeyofficial, and @layofleithianshitposting!!!

this is one of those things within the show that is not immediately obvious, but as you start to think of examples of where it does hold significance, it gets super hard to ignore. so in effort to ease you into what I think is gonna be a really messy collection of things I've picked up on, I'll start with the most obvious and easiest to dissect example: izzy hands himself.

izzy is, of course, blackbeard's right hand man. and he places an ENORMOUS amount of stock in that role - it's pretty much what his entire identity hinges on. he takes pride in being the person that blackbeard can turn to in his time of need, the person that can be trusted to carry out all of his dirty work, the person that is left to run things in his absence. izzy is, right down to his core, someone who can be relied upon to be blackbeard's iron fist. he is an extension of blackbeard: carrying out his chores and even killing for him, since we know that ed does not kill with his own hands. izzy is the PERSONIFICATION of the right hand.

and when we consider this, what are we expected to associate with the right hand side? a cold, ruthless attitude to working, and an unstoppable work ethic at that. emotions are something seemingly repulsive to izzy, something he does not take into account when doing his job, and something he chides in others, particularly ed, when they get in the way of their jobs. when ed is having second thoughts about killing stede because he's developed feelings for him, izzy offers to lend a hand, quite literally, by saying he'll gladly kill stede for him. izzy is able to get on with things without letting his feelings get in the way, allowing his sword, grasped firmly in his gloved right hand, to provide all the certainty he needs. when you look at izzy's work ethic and attitude to other members of the crew who are not as dedicated to their jobs as him, you can easily start to associate the concept of the right hand side with the same cold calculation and detached ruthlessness izzy easily employs to carry out his role as the right hand man.

so if izzy is the personification of the right, who is his foil? I think it should come as no surprise that the person who most perfectly encapsulates the significance of the left is stede's own little favourite helper: lucius spriggs. lucius pretty much is everything that izzy is not - warm and open where izzy is cold and standoffish, flamboyant where izzy is uptight, promiscuous where izzy is judgemental - and he is STRONGLY associated with the left.

first and foremost, lucius is left-handed. I am willing to bet it was not a simple coincidence that lucius, the one crew member who can read and write, the literal scribe who documents all of stede's exploits, uses his left hand to carry out all of his acts of kindness and love. lucius sees all; he sees ed and stede fall in love, sees through jim's disguise, sees pete's insecurities with showing affection, sees all the most beautiful parts of his sexual partners, and reaches out to all of these things with a gentle, accepting hand. we make jokes about lucius being the ship's therapist, but really, his role within the dynamics of this cast is to be the one who holds everyone together. lucius may be seen as lazy by izzy, but in reality he has saved the day multiple times through little more than his observance and emotional intelligence (comforting jim when he discovers their identity, stealing back their dagger after noticing it belongs to them, giving both ed and stede a talk about their feelings for each other, etc). stede puts his left hand to work because he needs to justify lucius' existence aboard the ship, but in reality lucius' true job is something much less tangible than writing notes. lucius provides an absolutely vital role in direct contrast to izzy's - if izzy is the right hand who performs the physical tasks whilst scorning all emotion, lucius is the left hand who brings everyone closer together and manages the emotions of everyone he comes into contact with. if the right hand is cold and calculating, the left hand is warm and nurturing. if the right hand concerns itself with the practical, then the left is concerned with all things pertaining to emotion and the interpersonal.

there's also something to be said about the inherent association of left-handedness with queerness. historically, left-handed people have been punished for being such, as the church associated the left side with the devil, and so it's often been used as an allegory for homosexuality in media. the way this show pushes the concept of left-handedness, and the left side as a whole, as something with positive connotations, is an inherently unorthodox, queer perspective, and to have lucius, the poster boy for the brand of open, flamboyant, unapologetic queerness this show wants to sell us, be a left-handed scribe is definitely telling.

now that we have established what the right and the left are associated with, it's probably time to address the elephant in the room: That Scene. you know, the one where stede stabs ed and izzy has a mental breakdown. this is the scene where the idea of left vs right is thrown right into the text. ed literally says that the right side is the important side. you can get stabbed straight through your left side and be totally fine. and stede questions this - is that right? surely both sides have some kind of importance? and stede is right, but not in the way he or ed supposes. ed thinks it's fine to get injured on the left side, because there's no useful organs on that side. and I'm sure we've all picked up on the obvious wrongness of this fact by now, because of course, the heart is famously on the left side.

the fact that ed fails to mention the importance of the heart is extremely telling as to his worldview before he falls in love with stede. pirates don't need a heart. you can see this idea reinforced with izzy - he is the right hand, performing all the important tasks, a necessary violence, and he believes this is all he needs to be as a pirate. matters of the heart are anathema to everything a pirate stands for. the idea that the left side is useless is basically synonymous here with the culture of abuse piracy is known to be. love is not something that can thrive in this world. until, of course, it does. ed thinks his left side is not something to be considered, not something he needs to protect. he'll take as many swords as he needs to and walk away unscathed. nothing of importance resides within his left side. until stede puts something there. stede LITERALLY gives ed's left side, the side that harbours emotion and kindness, significance by placing the red silk in his left breast pocket. he reminds him that's where his heart is. and it's a fine thing, something that should be cherished and worn proudly for all to see.

in addition to this, it's also important to note that ed almost always has his left arm covered. his right arm (the violent side of him) is always on display, but it's not until he lets his guard down around stede that we finally see his other arm. and it's EXTREMELY interesting that the biggest tattoo on his left arm depicts the kraken. you'd think that this is a part of ed that he would wear right out on his sleeve, so to speak. but he chooses to keep it hidden, afraid of the man he knows he's capable of being. it was only through stede's gentle acceptance of his authentic self that ed was able to open up about his fears and his past (the things he associates with the kraken) and finally share the burden of those emotions with someone he trusts to hold them.

and it's not just ed who has some significant item tied to their left side. oluwande's earring, the teal stone that is jim's favourite colour, is in his left ear. lucius' left hand, the hand that is the perpetuator of so much love and connection within the crew, is threatened by an infection, and when he loses a finger, it is lovingly replaced by pete - an act of kindness that runs so antithetical to pete's idea of what a pirate should be like that he's almost ashamed to give it, but lucius kisses him and tells him he loves it. just like ed, a part of lucius' left side is now intrinsically connected to the person he loves. he is put back together, completed by a simple gesture of someone saying "this part of you is important to me. I'm going to help you take care of it". the left side may seem expendable through the lense of a typical pirate, but characters say again and again that it should be cherished and taken care of!

going back to lucius briefly, because oh my god there's so much to say about him here, I'd like to again reiterate that izzy thinks lucius is USELESS. we see this over and over again, that the association with the left side is unappreciated, degraded, and this is at its most obvious in episode 5 when izzy spends the whole episode trying to get lucius to do things his way because he's convinced that lucius isn't contributing enough to the ship. what izzy doesn't realise, however, is that lucius is the most important person in the crew. he's the left hand man. it's not an official position in the hierarchy and its role is less clear cut than that of the right hand man, yet it is absolutely vital to preserving the wellbeing of the crew.

lucius doesn't seem to be contributing anything from izzy's perspective as the right hand man because he gets all the obvious practical work done, so cannot understand the importance of the less tangible things lucius is doing to keep things running smoothly. once again, we see this idea that the left part of the body, the heart, the centre of emotion, is unimportant, but without lucius, the ship literally loses half its motor function. and this becomes BLINDINGLY obvious once lucius is taken out of the equation in episode 10, because that marks the beginning of ed and the revenge at large spiralling out of control. it's like trying to row a boat with only one oar. (whilst we're on that topic, go back and check which of jack's oars ed breaks over his knee at the end of episode 8, and draw your own conclusions about what that means.)

and I'd like to also take the time to clarify that izzy is not wholly right-sided, either. izzy's costume design is interesting in that he only wears a glove on his right hand. this almost suggests to me that there's two sides of him: one that is completely cold and ruthless, willing to do what needs to be done (his dominant hand, the one that holds his sword), and one that is totally devoted to and in love with blackbeard (his non-dominant hand, which is used less often but is laid totally bare nevertheless). it's interesting to me as well how when he's being pinned against the wall by ed, he reaches out to touch him with his right hand. it's a tender gesture, but the motivation is all wrong. he's not actually touching ed - his glove is in the way. when you compare this to ed, softly touching stede's cheek with his bare left hand on the beach, it feels really stilted and disingenuous. the lines between affection and violence are incredibly blurred in his head. he can't tell the difference between an honest gesture of love and a show of possessiveness.

we see this again when blackbeard cuts off a toe on his left foot, too. it's incredibly violent, but izzy is thrilled by it. it wins back his loyalty. izzy is someone who consistently struggles to differentiate between commitment and all-consuming devotion, between loyalty and love. he's spent so long shunning his emotions that he doesn't even know what he wants anymore. it's this lack of acknowledgement of his left side, his heart, that gets his wires so crossed when it comes to his feelings for ed. he can only view his connection to ed, and to blackbeard, through the lense of a right hand man. his vision is fundamentally skewed.

I had a whole other section planned where I'd go into more detail about the cinematography and how the framing of various characters either to the left or the right of each other tells us something about their relationship to each other in a given scene, but this is already super fucking long, so I think I'm gonna save that for a part 2 at some point in the future. I think for now I'd like to summarise by giving my personal thoughts about what the left/right dichotomy means for the themes of the whole show. throughout the season, we see this constant struggle, this push and pull, that characters go through as they try to balance the harsh reality of pirate life and their yearning for love and acceptance. I think the difference between these two things is represented perfectly in the associations with the right and the left sides. the right side, specifically the right hand, represents the violence pirates have to commit and their detachment from emotion and sentimentality, and it's referred to as important, necessary. something you can't live this life without. the left side, specifically the heart, represents love and vulnerability and the connections these characters forge through sharing this world with each other, and yet it is considered useless, something disposable. one of the biggest messages of this show is, at least in my interpretation, that we don't have to except the way things are just because that's how it's always been done. sure, typically piracy is a culture of abuse, but why should it be? why can't pirates have nice things? why should the idea of them falling in love and protecting each other and choosing company over killing be considered silly? we shouldn't have to compromise our emotions, our heart, the most precious part of us, for sake of doing things "right". it's good to be naive and to believe in the power of vulnerability and kindness. it's not foolish to choose connection with people over power. the most powerful thing you can do is to refuse to choose violence in the face of more violence, and to instead extend a hand, and the bravest thing you can do is to allow someone to take your heart in their hand and allow it to be held.

[jaedore]

[00:57]

→ pairing: college student jaehyun x fem college student

→ genre: bantering

→ warnings: several swearing, sexual tension?

→ word count: 870

Spring’s night breeze shakes the tent as you attempt to sleep. It’s late, it’s cold, and you can’t sleep because Jaehyun keeps tossing and turning next to you. You had your back to him, but you knew he was still awake. He’d do this to annoy you–the tossing and turning–it was a way to make noise to prevent you from sleeping. It’s like he somehow knew you were a light sleeper.

It was the last night of the spring retreat your student organization took the students on. Normally, you don’t go because you don’t do well in settings outside of your bed, but you figured it was your last semester, so why not go? Big mistake. The president of the student organization forced you and Jaehyun to be partners for everything; tug-a-war, the obstacle course, capture the flag, you name it. He knew you two hated each other and was convinced that close proximity–even sleeping in the same tent–will help mend whatever tension was between you two. To be honest, you didn’t know why Jaehyun was always bickering with you, but every time an argument would happen, you’d make sure you’d win whatever you two were fighting about. You were competitive as him and it irked you that he always got things his way without even trying.

You cranked your neck towards him, “Will you stop moving around? I’m trying to sleep,” you snapped at him.

“Well I would,” Jaehyun huffed, “if I had some FUCKING blankets here!” He said loudly.

You turned to cover his mouth, everyone was supposed to be sleeping and the last thing you needed was a lecture from your uptight president who only slept a tent away.

“Shut the fuck up, you’re going to wake up everyone!” You pushed your hand against his mouth, Jaehyun struggled but you held his shoulder down to prevent him from moving.

A sharp pain ripples through your palm and you force your hand away, “Did you just bite me?” You shouted, you didn’t even care who heard you at this point.

“Don’t you ever shut the fuck up? All I hear is you talking about how you’re going to beat me in this and that, but I don’t see you ever winning against me! You know what they say, ‘Second place is first place loser’,” Jaehyun taunts.

You reach for his hair, remembering Soyoung running her fingers through it earlier and him smiling like it was his only pride and joy.

“Because you’re annoying and you always have to be number one and you’re always finding ways to argue with me! UGH, you’re so fucking annoying!!!” You curled your fingers in his hair pulling him back and forth with his head shaking to the rhythm of your pulling.

Jaehyun grunts, grasping your wrists, “Will you please stop pulling my hair?”

You suddenly climb on top of him, your legs straddling him as you continue thrashing his head back and forth, “I thought you liked it? Liked girls touching, running their fingers through your hair,” you grunt as he tries to pry away, “What–you don’t like it now? Huh? Huh? How do you like this, motherfucker?”

“Why,” Jaehyun grunts, “do you,” he groans, “always fight me?” his voice is strained.

“Because I-”

“HEY! SOME OF US ARE TRYING TO SLEEP–IF YOU’RE GONNA FUCK, DO IT IN THE BATHROOM!!!” A familiar voice yelled through the interrupted night–the president, Doyoung.

“THE ONLY THING I’M FUCKING IS STUPID IF YOU THINK I’M GOING TO HOOK UP WITH THIS PIECE OF SHIT!!” You yell back to your president, who cared if it was disrespectful? Jaehyun had ruined your night and maybe even the retreat.

Taking the opportunity, Jaehyun lunges forward to grab ahold of your shoulders and you soon find yourself snuggled upon his warm chest.

“That seemed to shut you up,” Jaehyun whispers, a loose chuckle leaving his lips.

You attempt to push yourself away from him, but he wraps his arms tighter around your shoulders gluing you down. You grunt as you struggle to get out of his hold but it’s no use. You can hear Jaehyun chuckling above you, his laughter sprinkled with mischief.

“Don’t move, I’m warm now,” Jaehyun says. The vibration of his voice makes your stomach curl.

You press your lips together, debating if you should attempt to pry yourself from him, but he’s so warm and you’re so tired. Those seemed to be the only things holding you down from ensuing another fight.

A few minutes later, you whisper faintly, “Why is your heart beating so fast?”

Jaehyun peers down at you, you don’t seem to be fighting back so he replies, “Because I was cold as shit since you kept hogging the blankets.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’,” Jaehyun tugs you tighter against him, “now hush and go to sleep,” he pulls the blankets on top of you, making sure it covers your entire body from the cold.

It certainly didn’t take long for you to fall into slumber. With Jaehyun’s body heat encompassing you, you found your eyes slowly, but surely, getting heavier with each blink. And while you were busy falling asleep, Jaehyun kept his eyes on you with a gentle smile stretched across his lips.

[masterhandss]

May I ask, what happens in the short stories included in the Hamefura manga volumes? (e.g. highschool AU, kindergarten AU, genderbend AU, etc.)

Well, okay! I'm not good at summarizing stuff, so sorry in advance! I'm also writing these without rereading the Bonus SS so there may be small inaccuracies in these summaries. Some of these are gonna be longer than others depending on how much of I still remember lmao

I still suggest everyone go buy the manga volumes and give them a read, these extra chapters are so fun it makes me wish the anime fillers are always these wacky and entertaining (in fact I had to put writing this on hold because Season 2 adapted one of these, kinda XDD)

// spoilers for the hamefura manga volume bonus ss/special oneshots

Volume 1 - Untitled

Bakarina wakes up and realizes that she has no control over her body. She is confronted with a familiar scene of Katarina bullying Maria in Fortune Lover, and realizes that she's experiencing it from a first person point of view: through Katarina's eyes. She comments on how cruel Katarina is and explains the different ways she'd treat Maria differently, until Keith and Geordo arrive to save Maria. Bakarina feels unnerved and saddened by the angry and hateful looks that Keith and Geordo are giving her (Well it's Katarina, but Bakarina feels like they are look at her), and nervously wakes up from the dream. It is revealed that the dream took place some time before her arrival at the Magic Academy, and that she vows to work hard not to fall into a Bad End so that she'll never receive such hateful looks and be scorned by the otome game characters who she now considers to be her closest friends.

Volume 2 - Doom Route★Private School

Katarina gets awoken by Anne telling her that she needs to get ready to school. Katarina is surprised to find out that she has a school uniform and that she'll be heading to school in a fancy car. Anne tells Katarina that Keith won't be coming with her because he's already at school. When she gets there, she gets greeted by Keith who is part of the School's Disciplinary Committee. She is also greeted by Geordo, the SC President and his twin brother Alan, the Secretary. Keith's job is to check everyone's uniforms, so he reprimands the twins for their custom uniforms. Geordo tells him that he'll just have the rule changed, and that Keith's uptight attitude is why he doesn't have a girlfriend. This is how Katarina finds out that the engagement between Geordo and her is a verbal agreement between families, so she's technically engaged to him but it's not official.

After meeting up with all her friends, Katarina enters the classroom to find it looking just like her old one in Japan. She finds that she had scribbled doom flag avoidance plans on her desk and notebooks, and realizes that she's still in an otome game. Maria then enters and is introduced as the new scholarship student, and Katarina runs out to read her notebook. Everything is the same, from capture targets to rival characters , except the setting is a modern. Katarina finds out that her bad ends only lead to her getting either expelled and transferred or getting a restraining order. Katarina becomes confident in befriending Maria, and enthusiastically plans to enjoy her new life in a modern school. The chapter ends with Katarina buying lots of melon bread from the cafeteria, and wakes up form the dream before she could eat it.

Volume 3 - My Next Life in a Fantasy RPG

Katarina is awaken by Miri, who tells her that she is late and that she needs to eat breakfast. Katarina dresses up and realizes that her clothes looks like a cute outfit form an RPG. After being greeted by her father and being given a simple japanese breakfast (which made a bit emotional), Miri scolds her and tells her to hurry since she and Keith needs to check up on a few things before they leave. When Katarina asks where they are going, Luigi tells her that she and Keith are headed on a journey to become heroes and defeat the demon lord. She is told that they are the two chosen from the village as representatives. Katarina, being confused about being in an RPG-like world instead of an otome-line one, realizes that she is in a dream and is excited to play a heroine role in the fight against the monsters. Katarina is awoken by Keith during their carriage ride, and told that they were at the castle. Despite being representatives of their village, they still need to be selected as a true hero. She asks on how they were selected as the representative, and Keith tells her that it's done by lottery. Katarina admires the RPG-style outfits of everyone in the crowd, before the high priest arrives and announces the details of the selection.

Everyone is divided into small groups and left to face monsters in order to assess their abilities. Katarina, who has never fought before, is scared of the task because she's never fought monster before. Unlike Keith who looked like a knight, her weapon is a hoe. She asks the officiate beside her if she can just eliminate herself and watch from the side, to which Keith sighs in disbeliefs and the man giggles at the confession. As the officiate yelled at the sight of a world, everyone got ready for battle. While Katarina admired the fight from afar, she realized that something else was growling besides the wolf. Timeskip to hours later, Katarina was selected as a hero with the title of "Monster Tamer", and the officiate reveals himself to be Prince Geordo and asks to be a part of her party. As Katarina and her party march on to face the demon king, they encounter a witch, who reveals herself to be Miri with a book of manners. Katarina then wakes up from the dream.

Volume 4 - Dreamland Genderbender

Katarina wakes up to the sight of a male butler waking her up to tell her that she is late for school. When she asks him who he is, he says that he is Anne, Katarina's faithful butler. Katarina realizes that Anne is a man, and that she isn't a she, but a HE! Katarina freaks out at the fact that he is a man and realizes that there is something on his waist that definitely shouldn't be there. Before Katarina could ponder about it for too long, Anne helps him prepare for school. He gets greeted by Keith, and he becomes overwhelmed by how cute (and yet somehow very Keith-looking) she was. When they got to the Academy, Katarina is greeted by Geordo and Alan, who are princesses instead of princes. Due to the fact that everyone's names were still the same despite being gender-switched, she realizes she's in a dream and plays along. Mary greets Katarina good morning, and Katarina notes how gentlemanly and dashing he looked. Katarina was then greeted by Nicol, whose smile was so lovely it made everyone blush. As she pondered on whether the female Nicol was more charming than her male counterpart, Sophia greets Katarina.

On their way to class, Katarina looks into a window and feels bad about how mostly the same he looked despite being a boy. Geordo clings onto his right arm as she tries to lead him to class (emphasizing her chest while doing so, which Katarina notes as being possibly bigger than Mary's), while Keith takes the other arm and gets angry at the princess for her behavior. Katarina is overwhelmed by Keith's adorable height, and lets go of both of them to hug her. Geordo takes a hold of Katarina, vocalizing his jealousy over his touchy-ness with Keith and demands the same treatment because they are engaged and because she is much more attractive than Keith. The argument between Geordo and Keith becomes heated, discussing whether or not a huge chest is much more attractive in a woman. Alan doesn't want to be a part of it, and Nicol stops their discussion as it is embarrassing to hear for the other students. Katarina doesn't know how to react since she is a boy in this situation. When they get to the classroom, they are greeted by Maria, which prompts Katarina to contemplate on what the differences are in the world now that they all swapped genders. When they get to student council room, Katarina compliments Raphael on how small and adorable she looks, bringing back the heated discussion between the girls about chest sizes. Katarina shouts that he has no preference, and then wakes up from the dream.

Volume 5 - Doom Route Kindergarten

Anne introduces herself as a daycare worker at Doom Route Kindergarten, and awaits the arrival of the students. First car arrives with Geordo and Alan, children from a well-off family. Anne is asked to take care of the two, who she nicknames "Sebastian the Butler". Anne notes on how well mannered the two are, and how they are apparently children of a government figure. Next car arrives with Mary, who is a the very feminine fashionista among the children, who loves flowers and fashion. Next car arrives with Nicol and Sophia, who were admired by the staff because their loving parents drop and pick them up from school themselves. Nicol is rumored to be a future seducer by the staff, and Anne notes on how they used to never interact with other children until recently. Next comes a woman on a bike, revealing herself to be Maria's mother who is there to drop Maria off. Despite being the daughter of a normal company employee, Maria was able to enroll into a private kindergarten through a scholarship due to her talent in baking despite her young age. Maria used to have a hard time adjusting to being a school for rich kids, but she had become more enthusiastic about school more recently.

When Maria asked Anne if Katarina will like the treats she made, on cue, another car arrives. Miri angrily drags a half asleep Katarina out of the car, reprimanding her for napping as soon as she finished eating breakfast. Miri apologizes for her daughters rudeness, and Anne replies that she's used to it. Anne tries to wake up Katarina by telling her that Maria made treats for her, which works and jolts Katarina awake. Katarina constantly clings onto Anne and asks her to play with her, while the other children tries to get Katarina to play with them instead. Anne notes how happy she is that Katarina likes her so much, even if she gets glared at by the children as a result. After receiving so much offers of different activities to do, Katarina settles on challenging Alan, which everyone follows them to. Anne runs after them telling them not to climb any trees again. After that, Katarina wakes up from the dream.

Volume 6 - Magical★Girl Flag Breakers

I already made an attempt to translate this chapter, since Manga Volume 6 has yet to come out in english, so I suggest reading it! I'll still summarize it though I guess

Katarina is on her way to school, running with a cucumber in her mouth, until she accidentally bumps into what looks like a small doll. The doll talks back to her, making her realize that it is sentient. Katarina and the doll, who reveals himself to be Raphael the Spirit, have a quick banter that escalates into a discussions about the nature of spirits and the danger that the planet will soon face. As Raphael finishes his explanation, monsters summoned by the evil organization began to attack in a nearby park. Katarina and Raphael checks it, and finds a giant stuffed bear rampaging. Katarina attempts to flee, but Raphael asks her to help him. In a panic, Katarina says yes, and the two form a contract. Katarina transforms into a magical girl and attempts to fight the monster. Despite being confused, she was able to win, and thus beginning her journey as a magical girl.

Timeskip to a few weeks/months later, Katarina mentions that she had found more magical girls among students in her school which includes Mary from the Gardening Club, Sophia from the Literature Club and Maria from the Student Council. The three were recruited by a spirit named Anne. The four are close friends who walk together to school. During one of their walks, they are interrupted by Geordo, one of the Four Kings of Ruin who are part of the Evil Organization. Mary, Sophia and Maria get angry at him for ruining the moment between the girls, and Geordo calls upon his allies in order to be alone with Katarina. From the sky descends the other members of the Four Kings: Alan, Keith and Nicol. Rather than being excited for battle, the three instead berated Geordo for calling them during their free time. Geordo asks them to fight off the other three girls so that he can be alone with Katarina, but instead they interact with Katarina whom they have already met prior. In the end, Geordo is arguing with Mary and Sophia, Alan and Keith are flushed in the corner at the sight of Katarina, and Nicol and Maria are sharing food (since he dropped his pasta after being summoned by Geordo). Katarina wonders if she really is a magical girl since they haven't actually been fighting whenever they encounter each other, and then wakes up from the dream.

Rereading this now, I may have made these summaries a little too long... I hope this doesn't discourage anyone from reading the Bonus SS yourselves!! Please read them, they are so funny and good!!

Detective Katarina's Office isn't available yet, I might edit this post when that drops.

Thank you for the ask (help my fingers hurt from typing jshdfg)

[hopekiedokie]

Mall is Life | Episode 1 : Skip for Seven Flags

Summary: Your dad thinks it's best for you to pay off the credit card that you just maxed out. Meaning, it’s time for you to finally get your very first job...at the mall. As a true blue spoiled daughter from a very rich family, what could possibly happen? Form a labour union and overthrow the oppressive government with 7 other underpaid and overworked guys??? Or maybe just form a bond with them and have the best time of your life?

Pairing: bts x reader

Genre: mall!au, lowkey a sitcom, fluff, eventual angst, and a whole lot of pure crack

Word count: 13.9k+

Episode summary: Some of the boys go to hell and back just to try and sneak you out of work while Namjoon slowly loses it.

Notes:  The way I write this is so out of order. That explains why it’s such a wack but that’s alright! It’s all part of the chaotic energy this fic stands for lol. I hope everyone's doing better than I am and I hope you enjoy this cause I did while writing it. Writing this series has been a literal escape from reality.

Posted on: 29th of Jan, 2021

— • masterlist | INTRO | Episode 1 | next • —

Jimin is late.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ 𝓙𝓲𝓶𝓲𝓷 𝓲𝓼 𝓱𝓔𝓛𝓛𝓐 𝓵𝓪𝓽𝓮 ™ ♥

AGAIN

Tbh we been knew that this was what's gonna happen when he offered to carpool to work with you.

At least, all the guys did.

He could set an alarm five hours before the actual time for him to wake up and he would still find a way to end up late.

They didn’t say a word cause it sounded like a “you” problem

Which sounds really mean but there is no "better" option for you.

You couldn’t really ask to go with Taehyung, your best friend, since he now lives on the other side of the city with all the, for a lack of a better word, ⁿᵒⁿ ʳⁱᶜʰ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ.

On top of that, your dad thought to revoke your rights to drive your car!

(Which, to be fair, he did buy for you.)

He thought it’d be sensible for you to jUst catCH a bUs.

Like he’d ever take one.

Now, back to Jimin...

Let’s just say that he’s been quite the mystery.

You never knew that you’d actually get to use the deducting skills you’ve learned in your critical thinking class.

At this point, you might as well get a trench coat, a matching fedora, and some magnifying glasses!

Nancy Drew? Shaking.

Miss Marple? Never heard of her.

Detective Conan? Who is he?

Sherlock Holmes? Might be out of job soon.

What are we talking about?

Well, you see...

In the last few weeks of knowing each other, Jimin has unknowingly made you go on this wild goose chase.

It’s because of the fact that you’ve developed a speculation that maybe

JUST MAYBE

Jimin, is in fact…

Rich.

*** 𝘟-𝘍𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘤 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘴 ***

Don’t believe me?

Then buckle up because I’m about to lay down some ｈａｒｄ   ｈｉｔｔｉｎｇ evidence.

[[

𝘞𝘦𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘰𝘥𝘢𝘺'𝘴 𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘑𝘪𝘯𝘏𝘪𝘵 𝘌𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵'𝘴 B̷a̷n̷g̷t̷a̷n̷ ̷U̷n̷s̷o̷l̷v̷e̷d̷ 👽✌

𝘐𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘱𝘪𝘴𝘰𝘥𝘦, 𝘸𝘦'𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘶𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘑𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘩.

𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵, 𝘭𝘦𝘵'𝘴 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦.

🎀Ｅｘｈｉｂｉｔ  Ａ🎀

𝘏𝘦 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘰.

(𝘖𝘬𝘢𝘺, 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘱𝘴𝘢: "𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘰" 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳.) 

((........𝘋𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 "𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴" 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦?))

(((𝘖𝘮𝘨 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦??? 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰? 𝘈𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘰? 𝘖𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘧- *𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱*)))

((((𝘈𝘯𝘺𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴! 𝘉𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥𝘶𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘮…))))

𝘏𝘦 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘭 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘦 "𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘶𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭."

𝘐𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘑𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘶𝘱𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶.

𝘉𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘧 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘪𝘳𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘰 "𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘶𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨".

𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘯𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭.

𝘜𝘯𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴, 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘭𝘺.

𝘏𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘦𝘹𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘉𝘜𝘛

𝘈𝘯𝘺𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘶𝘱𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦

𝘜𝘯𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦...

🎀Ｅｘｈｉｂｉｔ Ｂ🎀

𝘏𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘢 𝘤𝘢𝘳.

𝘈 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘤𝘶𝘵𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘺.

𝘕𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵.

𝘐 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯, 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘛𝘢𝘦𝘩𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘦 

𝘠𝘦𝘢𝘩, 𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘑𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘯'𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘳 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘗𝘙𝘌𝘛𝘛𝘠 𝘌𝘟𝘗𝘌𝘕𝘚𝘐𝘝𝘌.

𝘏𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘢 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘭 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘭 𝘕𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘯 𝘍𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘰!

𝘞𝘩𝘰 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦? 𝘌𝘭𝘭𝘦 𝘞𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘴??

𝘚𝘶𝘳𝘦, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘳 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘯 𝘈𝘶𝘥𝘪 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺'𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘣𝘭𝘶𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵𝘚 𝘗𝘙𝘐𝘊𝘌 𝘐𝘚 𝘚𝘛𝘐𝘓𝘓 𝘜𝘗 𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘙𝘌.

🎀Ｅｘｈｉｂｉｔ Ｃ🎀

𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘱𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘤 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘦𝘥𝘨𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺.

𝘓𝘪𝘬𝘦, 𝘈𝘕𝘠 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺.

𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘔𝘪𝘯 𝘠𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘪 (𝘢𝘬𝘢 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘯) 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘪𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘑𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘯 (𝘢𝘬𝘢 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘰𝘺) 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦.

𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘮.

𝘞𝘦𝘭𝘭

𝘏𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘸𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘵

𝘋𝘶𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘑𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘩 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘴 24/7.

𝘐𝘕 𝘍𝘈𝘊𝘛!

𝘏𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵, 𝘢 𝘥𝘢𝘴𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘥, 𝘢 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘨𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘵...

𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘈 𝘓𝘈𝘉𝘌𝘓 𝘛𝘏𝘈𝘛 𝘚𝘈𝘠𝘚 Jᴏ Bᴀʟᴏɴᴇʏ

𝘠𝘦𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵.

𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 140 ��𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘯𝘦.

𝘓𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯, 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘬𝘯𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶.

(𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘯𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘭 37 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘢𝘥'𝘴 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦. 𝘍𝘺𝘪 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘺𝘴𝘧𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘯𝘰𝘸. 𝘞𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘪𝘵?)

𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘱 3 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘧𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘷𝘪𝘣𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘬.

𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘑𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘮?

𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴...

𝙐 𝙣 𝙨 𝙤 𝙡 𝙫 𝙚 ��.

𝘋𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥, 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯, 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘥𝘶𝘤𝘦𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺: 𝑯𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒌𝒊𝒆𝒅𝒐𝒌𝒊𝒆

---𝘌𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘮---

]]

“Late again.” Namjoon slowly shakes his head to you.

Yeah, and whose fault is that???

“But it’s only been 15 minutes! No one ever comes to ICEA this early on a monday.”

He holds his hand up to your face and you shut up.

You already know how this will go.

You’ve seen this play out a handful of times now to the point that you’re sure Namjoon has turned into a broken record.

“Oh, if that’s the case then why don’t we all just take the morning off since the first customer on a monday usually comes around lunchtime?”

Yep. Just as expected. 

Now, he’ll nag about giving you the position.

“Y/n, I didn’t put in a good word to the manager for you if this is how you’ll be—“

“Yes, I know and I’m truly very sorry about this but you see, Jimin—“ You interject in between Namjoon’s nagging but he also interrupts you before you explain your side.

“Do you really want this job?” He asks you firmly.

Well

No

Not really

WHY on earth would you???

You could think of a million other things you’d rather do than to slave away for other people here.

But like, you do need it badly so

“...Yes.” You meekly answer.

“Then stop making excuses and stop slacking. I have never met a more irresponsible person in my entire life and that's saying a lot cause I know Kim Seokjin! I mean, look at this fake apple!"

Namjoon takes the prop from a display and waves it in front of your face.

"It has a better grasp of life than you! At least it knows it's fake and isn't gonna get eaten!"

That did not make any sense but just bear in my mind that Namjoon has reached his peak with you.

"Let's get this clear. Do your job or I’ll fire you myself, okay?!”

Namjoon walks away, slightly seething and you just stand there completely stunned.

Uh

Woah.

No one and I MEAN NO ONE has ever raised their voice at you like that.

Okay, you know you’re not the easiest person to deal with but you’ve never given anyone a reason to get mad at you like that.

You must really be doing such an awful job here

(That or Namjoon rEAlly is just that uptight.)

Either way, you feel really really REALLY bad.

You want to run away and maybe cry in a stall.

It’s like high school all over again!

But then you remind yourself that there’s no point in crying because at the end of the day, you’d still be here.

And also, what are you? 13 years old?

With a heavy heart and slightly teary eyes, you go to the stock room and (try) to do inventory.

Soooo…….

Maybe Namjoon went a tad bit too hard on you.

BUT HEAR HIM OUT!

Indeed, he didn't do this for nothing, he really did wanted to help you b̶e̶c̶a̶u̶s̶e̶ h̶e̶ t̶h̶i̶n̶k̶s̶ y̶o̶u̶'r̶e̶ c̶u̶t̶e̶.

He'll admit that your skills are lacking but you did graduate with honours so that must mean something.

As a (consistent) honour student, himself, he knows the capability one possesses in order to achieve such a thing.

So, he's sure you’re not that bad like how Taehyung had described you about actual work stuff.

Boy, was he wrong.

He regrets getting you hired.

BIG TIME

He regrets this more than anything in his life.

YES, even more than that time he went streaking across campus on the eve of his graduation.

(That's a story to be unpacked for some other time.)

Namjoon just wants to know how someone can have such an awful sense of responsibility???

Like, for example

Hell hath no fury like a Saturday afternoon in ICEA.

Literally, all hands on deck are needed during these times.

It’s all or nothing if an employee wants to get through the day without losing a limb or two

(Or their minds)

So anyone can imagine how Namjoon reacted when you sat on this chair he was pointing at, that a customer wanted to buy, and had the audacity to thank him and say you’ve been wanting to sit the entire afternoon cause you’re feet are killing you wHEN yOu HAVen’T EVeN liFTEd a sINgLe fINgEr ALL DAY.

Not only that!

Oh bOy! Get ready cause Namjoon’s got a whole ass list.

The amount of times he’s caught you sitting pretty somewhere is astronomical,

You keep spending at least 10 minutes on checking yourself out whenever you pass by a mirror,

Your phone is always glued to your hand,

Somehow, you always find a way to just end up gossiping with the customers about stupid things,

You even criticise their choice in furnishings and recommend other “more tasteful” furniture places,

Same goes for the food here,

You can never remember the store sections DESPITE BEING HERE FOR THREE WEEKS NOW and just end up asking another employee

Actually,

You ALWAYS end up asking help from another employee instead of doing things yourself 

What the fricking frick frickity frack is the point of being hired IF OTHER PEOPLE ARE JUST GONNA DO THINGS FOR YOU???

He 👏 swears 👏 to 👏 the 👏 ICEA 👏 gods 👏

Namjoon is about to pop a vein out

Which only means one thing…

He’s due for a “Me time” in the lift.

….

NOT THAT KIND OF “ME TIME”, YOU DETTY PIG!

He means his essential time to scream out into the void and release all his pent up anger and quite possibly murderous thoughts.

It’s usually about Michael

Or some very picky customer

Or a very malevolent child

Or Seokjin and Taehyung being a tag team from hell

This time, he screams and curses your name out.

(To emphasise, not in a sexual way. You detty pig)

Listen

He knows that you’re a really nice person.

A kind one too

You’re kind of a surprise to the rest of the guys tbh.

Yeah, you can’t help being a spoiled rich kid but for the most part, you’re very very tolerable and dare say, nice to be around

At work though?

Lol.

Like that Rihanna song, Namjoon needs to put in work work work work work.

Especially since he’s trying his best to get promoted noticed by his boss.

He’s been busting his ass off in this place for three years now and has been employee of the month consistently ever since.

But because he’s younger and inexperienced

While Michael, their current Assistant Manager, is a lot older and has been in this ICEA for almost a decade now, 

Michael is the one who got the Assistant Manager position and is constantly the subject of attention around here

When all he does is boss people around!

What a cOMpleTe BULL

Michael gets to stand around, doing the bare minimum, and still gets all the nice compliments.

Whereas Namjoon gets things like, “Can you help me find a MILF?”

(And by Milf, the customer means a lamp. Not the other one, you detty detty pig.)

Great.

Wonderful.

Fan-freaking-tastic.

With you around because of him, he just might take 7 more years for his hard work to get notice…

( ŏ﹏ŏ)

With that thought in mind, Namjoon enters back into the lift just as he steps out.

(Not forgetting to politely apologise to a customer who’s about to enter. Honestly, who do you think he is?)

"So…..how bad is it?" Hoseok asks a mentally, physically, and spiritually drained Taehyung who is now getting a head massage from Jimin.

Taehyung momentarily lifts his head from Jimin's lap to look at the older guy straight in his eyes.

"All I see is a long, long, long, long, long ass dark tunnel. Oh, wait! What's that I see? Light! It's the end of the tunnel! I must run to it! Oh, will you look at that? It leads to a cliff where there is no other way than to jump to my death."

Hoseok and Jimin stare at Taehyung, looking like a bunch of scared kids that've been told that they can no longer use a night light.

Taehyung drops his head back and Jimin resumes massaging almost immediately.

Poor Tae.

He needs all the love and comfort right now and Jimin is here to provide it for him!

🥰 

"What's going on here?" Yoongi arrives at what has now been their designated food court booth and sits beside Jimin.

"Can't afford a massage so you've manipulated Jimin?"

Jimin momentarily looks hurt at the thought of Tae using him.

But then again,

He's fine with it since he'd be able to help his friend out!

Taehyung throws Yoongi this used napkin that has been lying on their table since the three of them arrived.

“Shut up. I’ll never manipulate Jimin. I know I’m evil but even I have limits, okay?”

Like everyone else, Yoongi likes to believe Taehyung's evil ways have no limit whatsoever.

I mean, just look at that face.

But then he looks at the soft boy carefully massaging Tae with a huge grin that makes his eyes vanish.

(¬͟ʖ¬)

Eww 

"Affections"

How disgusting.

But also

iF ANYONE TRIES ANYTHING TO THIS BOY, THEY'LL FACE THE WRATH OF A MIN YOONGI AND NO ONE WANTS THAT NO, NO, NO

"But it can't be that bad! I'm sure there's some silver lining to your work, Tae." Jimin tries to uplift Taehyung's spirits even more.

Hmmmm…..

Let's see.

Taehyung scrunches his face and thinks hard.

Hoseok, Jimin, and even Yoongi who's caught on to the topic patiently anticipate his answer.

"...Uhm…"

….

Approximately 15 seconds pass.

…

"Well?"

…

Taehyung unscrunches his face

"Nope, I've got nothing."

Ugh. All that built up anticipation for nothing. How disappointing!

Well, it is true.

What sort of silver lining is there if you work at a McWendi's takeaway booth at this dingy corner at the back of the mall?

When Taehyung got hired, he thought he'd work at the same branch that he applied for. 

But no! The manager took one look at Taehyung's handsome face and had the brilliant idea to put him at that specific booth cause it really needs some reviving.

Taehyung's got a little tip for them: next time, maybe open up a booth near where there's a lot of people.

So now, not only is he a cashier, he also cooks and prepares meals, AND cleans up.

He works with these twins called Taylor and Tyler but Taehyung can't even bear to look at them with their atrocious matching gold griLLZ.

Who cares if they're real gold?

UGH

It’s like he’s a reverse Cinderella.

"There's always the option to quit."

Taehyung scoffs at Yoongi's suggestion.

"First of all, I am Kim Taehyung. I don't quit, it's not in my vocabulary. I don't back down. People back down from me. Second, I can't afford to spend any more time looking for another job. I'm in dire need of money right now. I mean, they just released the new Kucci shoes and I'm reminded that I cannot afford it! Third-"

Yoongi stares at the potted plant beside them.

All he said was "quit".

He didn't ask for a whole ass novel about it.

Just say you can't quit and go!

But then again,

Tell him more about your trainwreck of a life!

He loves that shit so he can validate his equally shit of a life.

"So! As you can see, I can't quit. It's not an option AT ALL." 

"Bro, have you ever considered being a talk show host?" Hoseok muses.

"That's all you can say from everything I've said??"

Hoseok shrugs.

He does care for his friend's wellbeing… But it's not like he can do much about it.

"How about you Yoongi hyung? How's work?"

Oh, what a lovely question!

How's work? 

How is work???

"Oh it's fine. Everything's fine. Just, really really fine. ToTaLLY FINE. Completely fine." Yoongi tells them oh so casually with a tight lip smile.

The other boys can just see the anger slowly seething from his ears.

Which is a rare thing because Yoongi never shows any emotions outwardly.

It must be THAt bad.

And it’s HELLA SCARY.

He's turned into a ticking bomb that's about to explode!

So Taehyung and Hoseok nudge Jimin to make Yoongi talk about it more.

Maybe, just maybe, he'll be a lot less aggressive if he asks.

"Uhm, hyung, that's good to hear!" Jimin stops massaging Tae's head, much to the sassy boy's dismay, and gives Yoongi a few pats on his arm.

"Yep aha ha." Yoongi mutters

"You finally have the job of your dreams!"

"Uh huh."

"To think that you've been chasing this for so long and now you have it! It's such a wonderful thing! You-"

"NO. IT'S NOT. I LIED." Yoongi places his head on Jimin's shoulder.

The three boys flinch at the volume of Yoongi's voice.

Welp

There it is.

“I don’t think I can handle another day being assigned to the musical section. I do rap and hip hop for fuck’s sake. This is blasphemous!”

At this point, one of Jimin’s hands is now stroking Yoongi’s head while the other one is still massaging Tae’s.

(Omg nOt iN a SExuaL wAy you detty detty detty pig!)

“If I hear anyone talk about that abominable Cats movie one more time, I SWEAR! I'll smash those records against their head AND eat the broken pieces right in front of their unconscious bodies!"

As if it couldn't get worse from Taehyung's previous "tunnel" analogy, Hoseok and Jimin are just purely and utterly disturbed by Yoongi's colourful explanation.

"Wow. Just… Wow."

Hoseok has no words.

Could it really be that bad that these two are wanting to end things in a very violent way??

He wonders how you're doing at work.

Namjoon mentioned something about you the other day but Hoseok was too preoccupied thinking what the 98% is if it only says 2% milk in the label.

He passed by the grocery that morning and saw a 2% milk so guess who was thinking about it the entire day??

Fun fact: Hoseok was never good at science.

Anyways,

He thinks you're doing okay. I mean, come on! You're training under Namjoon so it's only right that you're smashing things.

Right? RIGHT???

"Guys, I can't with work anymore!" You arrive slightly in tears.

Well shit, he thought wrong.

"Welcome to the club, princess." Yoongi welcomes you as you sit beside Hoseok.

"Namjoon wants me dead. I just know it!”

The guys give you a puzzled look and you retell to them the events of your morning.

“Wow, Namjoon snapped!” 

You give Hoseok a pained expression 

Why does he look quite pleased at Namjoon’s morning outburst????

“...I mean in a bad way! That really sucks, man. ” He gives you reassuring pats on your arm.

“Namjoon hyung can be pretty controlling and apprehensive but it doesn’t sound like him to say hurtful things like that.” Jimin says.

“Can he even fire you?” Taehyung asks to which you reply with a solid no.

In the few weeks you’ve known the guys, you’ve learned that they like to refer to Namjoon as ICEA’s Assistant-Assistant Manager because he’s Michael’s favourite to boss around. But in actuality, he’s just in customer relations.

“You must’ve really pushed him to his limits. What did you do?”

Or more importantly, what did you NOT do?

“I don’t know, okay?”

Honestly, you don’t fail to realise just how much of a slacker you have been.

Deep down, you know that you’re not really trying...

But you still like to think that all of this is not a reality. That maybe one of these days, your dad will come to his senses and not let his one and only princess do hard work anymore.

Ladies and gents, and everyone in between, I present to all of you a literal clown.

🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡

Man, you really do need to do something and pick up your weight.

From across the food court, Jungkook appears.

People’s heads (especially the ladies and all the guy lovers) snap to his direction.

Jimin’s not the only one who has fans, okay? The difference between them is that Jimin has an actual fan club while Jungkook doesn’t. 

Just like that, it seems like a distress code has been dropped and people are scrambling.

This is not a drill. I repeat, THIS IS NOT A DRILL.

The resident cutie and boy next door has landed.

To your stations ladies and gents and every Jungkook lover out there.

Fix that hair,

Powder your nose,

Gloss your lips,

DANG IT, WHY IS THIS GUY’S DRESS SHIRT NOT PROPERLY IRONED??

Jungkook starts making his way to your group’s booth.

As he passes by the other booths, all the “Jungkook Lovers” call out to him and give them a wave, albeit shamelessly.

He reluctantly waves back at them rather shyly which makes them coo at him even more.

The permanent blush on his face is the icing on the cake.

How cuteeee.

BUT!

These smiles and waves slowly disappear as they take in what he’s wearing.

Is that??

No.

That can’t be!

He’s working there?¿

Jungkook leaves a trail of baffled faces in his wake and soon enough, he’s standing in front of your group.

“Oh, hi there, dude.” Hoseok nonchalantly says, giving him a fast glance then points his attention back to you.

…

Wait a dang second…

Is Jungkook wearing a…???

Hoseok looks at him again.

Then looks away.

Then looks at him again for confirmation.

gASP!

He’s seeing real things and not imagining stuff!

Jungkook is..

“DUDE! YOU’RE WORKING AT PERPETUALLY21?!”

* record scratch sound *

Everyone, including you, opens their eyes and mouths dramatically wide open.

WAHT

Oh no, it’s real.

Jungkook is wearing a black shirt that has the name “Perpetually21” printed on it.

"Kook, what have you done?" A very disgusted Taehyung slowly asks.

“You guys told me to get a job.” He innocently mutters.

“Yeah but not...this!”

(That’s rich for someone working at McWendi’s and is required to wear a hat that has braids attached to it, tbh.)

“Tae, calm down. Let’s hear Jungkook out, alright?” 

Yoongi faces a nervous Jungkook.

Is…

ⁱˢ ʰᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗʳᵒᵘᵇˡᵉ??

༼  ಥ_ಥ ༽

Yoongi is like (  一_一)

Jeez, this kid needs to chill.

“Jungkook.” Yoongi starts like a disappointed dad, “we’re not mad.” 

༼  ಥ‿ಥ ༽ 

PHew what a relief!

“But.”

bUt?¿

Oh no, he IS in trouble.

༼  ಥ_ಥ ༽

“Okay, kid, don’t cry!” Yoongi rushes in panic. “We just want to know how this came to be, sheesh!”

“Yeah, Kook. What happened? We thought you wanted to work at that Smoke Gaming Store?”

Jungkook sniffs a little and starts to explain things, “I don’t know what happened. I thought they’d hire me because I instantly hit it off with the guy that interviewed me. We discussed about Joel’s death from The Last of Us-”

I’m sorry but who?

“It went really well! At least I think it did.”

“Well, then that’s weird… What else did he ask you?” Jimin asks (still stroking Yoongi’s head and massaging Tae, that little angel)

Jungkook thinks real hard, back to his interview.

Hmmmm……let’s see…..

“We talked about my hobbies and work experiences.”

Yoongi snorts, “Which you don’t have. So, what else?”

“Uhm.... He asked me about my worst qualities.”

Bingo!

This does not smell good.

“And? What did you answer?”

Jungkook is sweating at how intense all of you are looking at him.

He is nOT made for this kind of attention.

Also, he feels like he did the wrong thing.

“Uh… ᵃᵐ ⁱ ˢᵘᵖᵖᵒˢᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˡⁱᵉ?”

Oof that does not sound well.

Yoongi sits up straight and gives the younger boy a smile. An eerie smile.

“Jungkook. Tell us. How many did you tell them?” 

….

……….

¿¿¿

"ˢᵉᵛᵉⁿᵗᵉᵉⁿ...”

WELL THERE YA GO

“JUNGKOOK! WHat the hell??”

“I don’t want to lie! It makes me feel really bad.”

Oh this sweet innocent little boy.

Hoseok puts an arm around Jungkook and ruffles his hair.

“You’re not supposed to lie, bro. You just need to tell them shit like ‘you work too hard’ or ‘you don’t know when to stop working’. Ya know? Chessy and suck up things like that.” 

Ohhhhhhhhh.

Why didn’t they brief him beforehand?

If they did then he wouldn’t have had to deal with the sheer panic of finding out that he didn’t get the only job he wants. Then he wouldn’t have felt pressured to get hired cause it’s been 3 whole weeks and everyone has had a job, even you (no offense), while he still haSN’T GOT ONE. ThEN maybe he wouldn’t have jumped the gun when this girl at Perpetually21 grabbed him and told him they’re hiring and will hire him on the spot if he wants!

Inhale

Exhale

“...”

“...”

“...So… How’s working at Perpetualy21?” You break the tense silence.

“...”

A single tear drops down Jungkook’s face and he instantly engulfs Hoseok in a tight hug.

Well then

We’ll take that as a dud.

With Jungkook silently crying on one of Hoseok’s shoulders, Taehyung embraces Jimin’s torso and starts weeping as well.

All this crying makes you tear up too. So in a few seconds, you lean on Hoseok’s other shoulder and start crying.

Yoongi... 

What? 

You think he’s gonna cry too???

HA!

You are absolutely correct.

He leans back on Jimin’s shoulder and he lets exactly 5 tears slip from his eyes because that’s as much emotion he’s gonna let himself feel.

Jimin and Hoseok look at each other helplessly.

WHAT on earth are they supposed to do now?????

Well they are in luck.

Because the lord and saviour, himself, is on his way to your booth.

He is in such a good mood today!

New job, new possibilities, baby.

Not to mention, he landed a killer one!

He’s working at Seven Flags, the mall’s indoor amusement park.

Nothing can bring him down!

That thought lasted about a hot minute because then, he sees your crying faces and…

What the hell??

Did someone die?

Hmm…..

Someone’s missing. Is someone missing?

1 2 3 4 5 6 and he’s the seventh.

Nope! Seven’s the magic number so they’re all here.

…

OH WAIT!

They have you now.

Silly him!

So someone IS missing…

Oh Namjoon!

…

…….

…

GASP!

Did he…

NO

Seokjin drops to his knees and starts wailing.

All six of you get startled by him… Bad day at work too?

“NoooOOOOooOOOoOoooo!!!!”

O-okay…. Awful day at work then!

“WhY? WHY???? He was too young!!!”

Huh?

You all share a dumbfounded look… Did someone die? Are you guys missing something here?

“Namjoon! No! Why must you leave us!!!”

“What are you on about?!” Yoongi yells at him.

Seokjin raises his head from the ground and surprisingly, he has actually shed real tears.

What the duck. He actually thought Namjoon is d-word??

“I… I just thought that…”

“That? That Namjoon hyung is… ᵈᵉᵃᵈ?? How could you?” Jimin says, starting to tear up as well!

Mayday! Another man down!

“Hey, all of you are crying. EVEN YOONGI and he never cries! Then I thought Namjoon isn’t here so I thought that maybe he’s… Ya know…”

“DEAD?!” You unbelievably ask which breaks the dam for Jimin.

Great! Jimin is crying! 

Now, Yoongi feels obligated to kick Seokjin’s ass.

“So… Namjoon isn’t--” Seokjin starts but gets cut off by all of you

“NO!”

Okay wooooo

That’s a HUGE relief.

Seokjin isn’t ready for that sort of thing…

Namjoon also owes him 6 bucks so he better not die before he gets to pay him.

Seokjin gets up, dusts himself, brushes his tears away, throws a wink and some finger guns at the females that are staring at his scandalous self, and then casually sits at your booth like he did not just scare the entire food court.

“So then,”

You all look at him, tired. (From work and also from his crackhead self)

“Did someone’s pet die, then?”

“OH MY- NO ONE DIED! CAN YOU PLEASE DROP THAT IDEA??” Yoongi’s voice booms.

“Okay, okay! Alright! It’s just that, it looks like someone died. If only you could see yourselves.”

As if on cue, all five of you sniff in chorus.

“Then what the hell is going on?”

“WORK SUCKS!”

Welp.

Who knew the day would come where Seokjin is the one who’s in triumph while the rest of his friends are in agony?

But like I’ve mentioned a while ago, never fear cause the saviour is here!

As much as he relishes in his friends anguish, he’s still not that cruel.

Oh and he loves the idea of saving everyone….

Especially if one of them is the daughter of a loaded CEO.

“Peasants...and my sweetheart, Y/n,” Seokjin begins in which Taehyung resoundingly scoffs to, “I just might have the solution to your worries. Well, temporarily.”

You know what, as unreliable as Seokjin is, a temporary escape from reality sounds too enticing. 

So you guys end up biting the bullet with Seokjin and he explains that he can most definitely sneak you all into Seven Flags.

“You’re working at Seven Flags?? Dope!” Hoseok voices out.

“I know right!” They give each other high fives.

In the few weeks you’ve known this group, you’ve realised that Seokjin seems to be on the same wavelength with Hoseok the most. At first it was questionable but now, it’s turning out to be quite cute in an unexplainable way.

“Are you sure you want to risk sneaking all of us in? We don’t want to get you in trouble-” Jimin shuts his mouth as Taehyung shushes him.

“He’ll only get in trouble if he gets caught. If he wants to sneak us in then let’s not stop him!” Taehyung remarks, obviously completely on board with Seokjin’s plan.

“He’s got a point.” You can’t help but agree with Taehyung.

Confession time: You’ve never had a group of friends. It’s always been just Taehyung. But also, you’ve never been to an amusement park. Yep, that’s right. You’re parents don’t think it's safe and worth the while so they’ve never let you. 

This is really exciting!! It’s like you’re a kid again!

“So, you guys are up to call in a sick day for work?”

“YES!” You try to contain your joy so the guys wouldn’t think of you as lame but it seems like they’re all also very much as excited as you are.

“Then it’s an official plan!”

“Uh, what is?”

Namjoon arrives at the scene, holding his Ryan lunch box.

He catches sight of you and instantly becomes uncomfortable.

Ugh, this boy is starting to get on your nerves.

But you need to contain your emotions since you are the one’s at fault here. Well, for the most part.

“Namjoon! We’re having a “skip work” day and we’ll be heading off to Seven Flags courtesy of Seokjin!” Hoseok happily fills him in.

Skip? Work?? Day???

Uh ha ha ha no. Not in Namjoon’s household.

“You can afford tickets for all of us? Since when?”

Seokjin scoffs at Namjoon’s clear distrust of him. “You’re looking at a newly hired employee of Seven Flags!”

Seokjin makes it sound like he’s a big timer at the amusement park but he’s actually just a maintenance guy.

(The narrator would like to point out that being a maintenance worker is a HIGHLY, HIGHLY important job and any establishment wouldn’t run without them)

“Even if you own the place, it wouldn’t matter because I’m not skipping an essential day of working! There are lots to do at ICEA and I cannot afford to be fooling around.” He says that while giving you side glances.

Oh, he’s totally jabbing at you… and it’s working.

“Namjoon hyung, come on! Don’t be a party pooper! You’re too tied down to your work. Live a little, would ya?” Taehyung states.

“Ugh. I’ll have you know that we’re not getting paid to muck about. I’d prefer to be a productive member of the society.” 

That was a bit too harsh of him to say tbh but you know he’s only really talking to you.

Big oof.

It’s fine. You’re fine. You’re toTALLy not hurt at all.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me. I need to go.” Namjoon takes a couple of strides but comes back and looks at you. “Oh by the way, your break ended 7 minutes ago.”

With that, he saunters away feeling all cool and shit with his bright yellow Ryan lunch box.

Dude, that made you feel even worse than before.

Suddenly, you feel obligated to not go to Seven Flags.

Taehyung, being your one and only bestie, knows that look on your face.

He knows that that’s the look you put on when you let someone get the better of you and frankly, he’s feeling triggered by it.

“Y/n. don’t listen to him. He’s just being a little shit.” The other guys agree with him, no offense to Namjoon.

You don’t though.

“No. He’s right.” You finally concede to the harsh reality of your life. “I’m supposed to be trying to earn a living! I need to wake up and get a grip.”

The guys are like oh no we’re losing her.

“It’s high time I actually take responsibility for once! I’m sorry guys but I can’t come with you.” Although it pains you to say that, you have no choice.

Truly, it’s a proud sentiment BUT at the wrong time! 

The guys try hard to rope you back into this fun filled plan but they’ve completely lost you.

You leave them with a much heavier heart and march back to ICEA.

Well, that wasn’t much of a success now, was it?

“Oh, hey!” Seokjin points at Jungkook (who hasn’t uttered a single thing through all of that btw), “you’re working at Perpetually21?”

Jungkook just might spontaneously combust anytime now.

Two days pass by with the guys repeatedly trying to convince you to come with them and you repeatedly turning them down. After that, they left you alone…. or so you thought.

Namjoon keeps ignoring you to the point that you don’t even see him that much in ICEA, during break times, or even off work. 

Speaking of work, you’ve actually been trying hard.

Like, actually doing labour and being very hands on with the customers.

It’s been pretty draining to say the least.

You’re still always late since you can’t change Jimin for who he is but still!

You’re doing a really good job!

Which is super annoying because Namjoon isn’t even around to see you changing your ways!

You tried to hunt him down once to talk about your last heavy conversation (aka Namjoon’s outburst) but he snapped at you, thinking that you’re just going to talk him into coming to Seven Flags.

As if you’re actually going to Seven Flags!

“By the way, we’re going to Seven Flags tomorrow.”

Jimin casually states as you step out of his car.

“So make up some excuse to have your day off.”

And you thought they’ve given up on making you come.

“How many times do I have to tell you? I’m not going!” You groan loudly.

“Y/n this could be good for you! You’ve been really tense lately and I think this is a good way to blow off some steam.”

Are you hearing Jimin right? Is this the nice and innocent Jimin that you know?

“You know what, Jimin? Out of everyone, I did not expect you to be the one to suggest for me to lie.”

Jimin stops at his tracks and absorbs what you just said.

L i e ?

But the rest of the guys said it’s for the good of everyone! Yoongi even told him that if they go, some murder will be prevented so really, this is an ethical thing to do.

And besides, you guys are going to have fun! So Jimin doesn’t really see anything wrong here.

“But-”

“I really don’t wanna hear anymore of it, Chim. I’m really sorry but I need to do good at work! I can’t afford to mess up anymore. I need to impress Namjoon.”

Jimin doesn’t really understand why you are so set on impressing Namjoon when he isn’t even remotely close to being your boss.

But then again, Namjoon is a very respectable man so he guess earning his respect is an honourable thing.

Which is why he doesn’t question you further. 

He’s not happy about you skipping your first ever bonding experience and would prefer to have you there but he’s not one to argue and force you.

The others though…

For your sake, let’s hope they give it up as well.

- The next day -

“Uh.....Are we waiting for something?” 

Yoongi is growing impatient.

The plan was to meet up at the food court at 11am but it’s been 45 minutes and they’re still just sitting there.

“Yeah, we’re waiting for Y/n.” Taehyung answers.

yOu???!!!

“You mean to say that we’ve been wasting time here, staring at each other, because we’re waiting on the princess wHO clearly stated that she’s not coming??”

“Yup.”

(╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻

Deep breaths for Yoongi, deep breaths.

“Okay…….Nice……..Cool, cool, cool, cool, cool.”

Deep breaths for Yoongi, deep breaths. Deep fuCKing breaths.

His ass fell asleep 20 minutes ago for what?? He could've been having the time of his life now, screaming his head off on a roller coaster but noooOOOOooooOoOoOooOOOo!

He hAs tO WAiT fOR yOU!

“So what you’re telling me is…” He starts with that conniving face that the boys are all too familiar with.

Uh oh…

The boys start to sweat and to feel slightly nervous.

“That we’ll be staying here until little miss Y/n comes?”

“...Uh….Yeah…?” 

Even Taehyung isn’t sure anymore if this is a good idea. 

“Oh. Okay.”

Yoongi stays silent after that…

The other guys don’t know if they should take that as a good thing or if Yoongi’s just gathering enough strength to rage.

Honestly, he's had it with you.

Ever since you came to the scene, the peace and quiet he doesn’t have seems to have become even MORE unattainable.

All he wants is to drop everything and to get away from the stress that is called “life”. Just for one day!! Is that too much to ask? 

Does he really have to put matters into his own hands here???

The sound of Hoseok’s phone halts Yoongi’s impending temper tantrum.

“Where are you guys?! I’ve been guarding the employee’s entrance for almost half an hour now!” Seokjin’s voice booms through Hoseok’s phone so loud that he had to hold it away from his ear.

“Dude, sorry! It’s Y/n. I think she’s really not coming…”

No, no, no.

This can’t be!

Seokjin did this to impress YOU specifically. 

Yeah, he wants to uplift his friends’ spirits as well but more importantly, he has his eyes set on the money bag.

He still has that fantasy of living the high life. Sue him!

“She can’t not come! This is awful! We need to do something!”

“I know man! Y/n seems to have lost her grip from the big adventure that is life and have succumbed to the negative side of our society.”

...Was that...a…

Was that a completely articulate comment made by Jung Hoseok???

Wow.

Yoongi snatches Hoseok’s phone.

“Give us an hour, hyung. She’ll be here.”

The four guys look at Yoongi with raised eyebrows.

“Ok, fine. But an hour is all I can give you! The other employees are starting to give me weird looks for being here for so long now.”

With that, Seokjin hangs up and goes back to his work.

“Hyung, so you’re okay with waiting for Y/n?” Jimin asks Yoongi nicely.

“No.”

Uhhhh what?

Yoongi stands and looks at the other boys.

“If all of you won’t go to Seven Flags without her highness, then we’re gonna get her.”

The day hasn’t even really begun and yet Yoongi is already so done with it.

He swears, you’re hitting all of his wrong nerves and you leave him no choice....

He needs to meddle.

Rrrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiiiingggggggggg…….. Rrrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiiiingggggggggg

Yoongi can feel his heart beat harshly

This is a stupid plan. AND HE’S UNBELIEVABLY THE MASTERMIND BEHIND IT.

Please let the mall gods be on his side! Please oh please oh please!

Someone picks up on the other line and Yoongi thinks he might flatline right then and there.

“Good day, this is ICEA wherein you can have a finer and effortless life! How may I help you?” Michael picks up in a very rehearsed sunny tone.

Yoongi immediately changes his voice and slips into some 𝑠𝑝𝑖𝑐𝑦 accent. 

“May I please speak to Y/N Y/L/N?” He says, making his voice sound like he’s crying.

“I’m sorry sir, but this is not a personal phone line. If you wish to speak with her, then I suggest you call her on her own phone after work hours.”

“But THIS is an emergency!! This is his brother… Steve and uhm..” Yoongi involuntarily pauses for a second to cringe at himself. He’s winging all of this, okay???

….

Steve…

Ugh * shudders *

“Yes, sir?” Michael presses him to continue, obviously very wary of him.

Teahyung slaps his arm for him to get it together.

Yoongi clears his throat. “ Uh, I’m sorry. I just need a moment to collect myself for this tragic news…”  He wittily saves his ass.

“This sounds serious. Is everything alright at home-- wait a minute... I’m sure I recall Y/n mentioning that she’s an only child during her interview!”

Fuck.

Quick! Think of something, Yoongi!

“Well… Uhm, I, uh, suffer from a very serious… Chronic anxiety! She, uh, doesn’t mention me because any exposure triggers an extreme emotional distress from me…”

Michael seems to buy it because he mutters an uncomfortable “oh” and apologises to him.

That’s another save for Yoongi.

“You see, our Uncle... Si Hyuk got in a grave accident and lost his memories! We really need Y/n to rush to the hospital right now. He * sobs * keeps calling out to our dear Y/n, completely afraid for his life!”

“Oh my! How tragic. I’ll get her right away…”

SCORE!

Michael puts the phone down and is about to call out for you but he hesitates for a second after a logical realisation pops in his mind. 

He picks the receiver up again and says, “Hang on… If he lost his memories then how come he’s calling out for Y/n, huh?”

Again, fUck.

“It’s… A…….. Medical mystery! The doctors are very baffled by it but they think it’s because he’s deeply attached to Y/n which is why she’s the only one he can remember. It’s all so very very sad, sir!”

Cue in the overly dramatic sounds of crying.

Michael stays silent for a few seconds and Yoongi thinks he’s probably out done his cries.

But then Michael mutters, “I’ll get her right away.”

Wow.

Who knew Yoongi could be such an amazing method actor?

If his music career doesn’t pan out well, maybe acting is the way to go. I mean, most people from the music industry do that anyway when their career isn’t boding too well.

Unfortunately, you are positioned too far from where the telephone is so it took a while to find you.

You are too invested helping out this very indecisive kid pick out which unicorn loft bed is better. The pink one or the light pink one? What a crucial dilemma! 

“Y/n! Come quick, you’re brother Steve is on the phone and says your Uncle Si Hyuk has had a terrible accident!” Some employee alerts you

“Who and what now?”

Brother Steve and… Uncle Si Hyuk?

Is there some sort of mistake?

Although you are very confused, you excuse yourself from the customers and follow your coworker to where Michael is holding the phone for you.

Eyes filled with worry, he hands the phone to you and places what appears to be a comforting hand on your shoulder.

Huh?

“...Hello?” You tentatively ask through the receiver.

“It’s me and I’m getting you out of there.” You immediately recognise that low and cold voice.

“Uh…” You turn around from Michael’s prying eyes and whisper, “Yoongi?”

From the other line, Yoongi rolls his eyes so hard, he thinks he caught sight of his big fat genius of a brain.

“No, it’s Steve and Uncle Si Hyuk needs you out of that store now!” He sarcastically snaps at you.

He knows you won’t say no to him.

You’re scared of him and he holds power to that, baby.

“I…” You take a peek at Michael and his brow is raised. This is really not a good idea.

You fear your debts to your father more than you fear Yoongi’s wrath…

At least you think so...

“I appreciate your guy’s concern but for the last time, I’m not going anywhere!” You try your best to sound dead serious while keeping your volume super low.

“Ugh, you need this skip day more than you think you do. You’re turning into Namjoon and it’s a totally alarming predicament!” 

You scoff out loud and slam the phone down much to the surprise of Michael.

You…

( ʘ‿ʘ)  

Hung up…

On Yoongi.

The actual aUDaciTy!

“She hung up on you.” Taehyung states Yoongi's thoughts, completely stunned. “What has Namjoon hyung turned my bestie into??”

Yoongi stares at the phone booth for approximately 3 seconds.

Oh well!

He shrugs and begins to walk away but Taehyung yanks him back.

“Where are you going?” The younger boy asks him.

“To Seven Flags. Where else?” Yoongi states (what he thinks is) the obvious. 

He believes he's done enough here.

He’s proven that he’s a genius,

We’ve discovered his potential acting career,

And to top it all off!

He spent 60 cents to make that phone call, an extra 40 cents for the connection charge, AND another 10 cents to keep the line going after 20 minutes had passed!

That’s more fucks he’s given to last him through the week. Maybe even the month!

“But we can’t just give up!” Taehyung determinedly declares. “I have a plan b!”

Yoongi stands his ground, not wanting to give in, and Tae does the same.

The two of them go into a stare down for a couple of seconds before Yoongi finally concedes.

Let’s not forget

At the end of the day, Yoongi loves some good drama just like the teenage girl that he actually is.

“Alright then. What’s plan b?”

Taehyung runs to you at full speed and practically crashes into you.

The force of it makes you drop the hangers you are holding and they make a loud crash as they hit the floor, catching the attention of everyone within a 15 meter radius.

You give him a baffled look but he instantly wails and clutches you HARD, upping that 15 meter radius to a solid 30.

What the heck is this guy on now???

“Oh, y/n!” He wails like that for a couple of times— wAIT ARE THOSE TEARS???

Wow

Just wow.

“Tae, what are you doing?!” You half whisper as you desperately pry him off of you.

“You need to come, now! Uncle Si Hyuk needs you!” He dramatically cries out in some weird accent he remembers Yoongi had on the phone. 

He then lets out a bellowing wail and you swear, you feel the entire store shake.

(´・__・`)

This drama queen.

“I swear, Tae. You need to get out. NOW.” 

This is sooooooo embarrassing

IS THAT KID FILMING YOU GUYS???

Taehyung is causing such a scene. If your incapability to function like a proper employee won’t get you fired, then this will definitely do!

You try to push him away to the nearest exit while excusing yourself from the watchful eyes of the customers.

But alas,

He is much bigger and stronger than you.

“Tae, for the last time. I’m NOT GOING-- hmpf!” Tae buries your face to his chest as he sees Michael, so you won’t be able to ruin his plan.

He saunters to Michael, sobbing and clutching to you.

Oh, this is it.

You’re gonna get fired.

Yep.

You can see it now. You’ll end up just like Seokjin. You’ll be known as the rich girl with no capabilities whatsoever. Your awful reputation will spread throughout the entire mall uNIVERSE. No one's gonna want to hire you anymore. You'll end up jobless, then homeless, and you'll ultimately end up living under some bridge with all 7 of the stray cats that you've adopted even though you're financially incapacitated to do so!

“What is all this?” You hear Michael’s voice and you forcibly yank your head from Taehyung’s iron grip.

He’s ruining your cute dutch braids with that tight hold! Does he know how long and how many tries it took you to do that??

“Are you the manager here, kind sir?” Taehyung innocently asks even though you can clearly see an “ᴀꜱꜱɪꜱᴛᴀɴᴛ ᴍᴀɴᴀɢᴇʀ” nametag on his chest aND he knows perfectly well who he is.

Michael hesitates but answers anyway.

“Uh, no I’m not, sir. But I am the assistant manager. What seems to be the problem?” He eyes you both suspiciously.

Hasn’t he seen this wailing guy from somewhere before???

He looks awfully familiar.

Hmm……

“Yes sir, I’m the one who called a while ago about Y/n’s Uncle!” Tae continues his act complete with the funky accent.

“Oh, the one with the terrible, terrible accident! Are you here to pick Y/n up?”

You interject, “No! This is a complete-- hmpf! Shtp et!” You try but fail to mumble out coherent words as Tae pulls you back in a bone crushing hug with your face pressed tightly against his surprisingly hard pecs- I MEAN CHEST.

“Oh, kind sir! You don’t understand how much our little Y/n is putting up such a brave front! She doesn’t even wanna leave work to see our poor dying Uncle Sejin!”

….

Wait

That doesn’t sound right…

Oh shit wrong name!

“...Si Hyuk!” Tae hastily adds before going back to his acting in an increased volume to assert dominance over Michael.

“We need her, Uncle SI HYUK needs her!” He emphasises on the correct name. “We need her strength more than ever.”

A few customers around start to mutter things like “How noble of this girl” or “What courage!” or “Go to the hospital!”

Michael, completely moved by Taehyung’s Oscar worthy of a nomination scene, sniffs and blinks away the tears threatening to fall. “You better go and see your Uncle, Y/n. He might not have much time left.”

You discreetly pinch HARD on Taehyung’s arm and he lets go of you with a little “Oww”.

“No I’m not coming with him!” You manage to say before two paramedics arrive and make a beeline towards you three.

HOLD UP!

Is that…

HOSEOK AND YOONGI??????

IN DISGUISE????

“See, sir? It’s much more desperate than you might think!” Taehyung wails again and you don’t even know how to react anymore.

Is this an actual thing that is happening right now?

Seriously

Like, these guys are really something.

“Mr. Steve Y/L/N? We really need to get you and your sister to the hospital right now.” Yoongi, disguised in blond hair that makes you even more tongue tied ngl, mutters in a completely different accent than before.

“Yes, of course. Thank you for assisting us Mr. Derek Shepherd and Mr… Doctor Steᵖʰᵉⁿ ˢᵗʳᵃⁿᵍᵉ…?” Taehyung’s voice gets less and less audible as he reads Hoseok's nameplate.

* Big and long sigh *

Of course.

We expect nothing less from Hoseok.

WHERE is Seokjin when you need him??

Michael doesn’t seem to have caught that little oopsie as he is now wide eyed and shocked at everything.

“I’M NOT GOING ANYWHERE. All of this isn’t real!” You attempt to convince Michael, your arms flailing around.

“SHE’S IN DENIAL!” Hoseok points at you and Tae wails even more.

“We need to get her out of here, stat!” 

With that, paramedics Derek Shepherd and Doctor Stephen Strange grab hold of you.

Well, try to as you keep thrashing and slapping and pushing them.

“We might need to sedate this one.” Doctor Stephen Strange muses before getting hit in the face.

"Take as much time as you need. Family is our priority here at ICEA. Some things are even more important than work.”

Doctor Stephen Strange holds you from your under arms while Derek Shepherd grabs hold of the back of your knees.

"You don't understand! They're making all of this up. I don't have an Uncle Si Hyuk! Yoongi, Hoseok, let go of me! Noooooo!"

They run out the store with you as fast as they can before you manage to blow their covers.

"She's completely lost it, that poor girl." Tae miserably says then turns to face Michael. "Uncle Si Hyuk has got you to thank for fulfilling what might be his dying wish."

Michael can't help but have his eyes water again.

"These poor people." He thinks as he stares at Taehyung…

.….

……….

"WAIt a second! Don't you work at McWendi's??"

Oof.

Tae freezes and is for once lost on what to do.

"Uh, I…"

GOtta bLaST!!!

Michael shakes his head as Taehyung leaves, still not having any suspicious thoughts.

If anything, he daydreams about being a paramedic.

How "hip" it would be to come and sweep people off and save them.

Oh what an ideal world.

Just then, the phone rings again.

"Good day, this is ICEA wherein you can have a finer and effortless life! How may I assist you?"

"Uh, yes. This is Mr. Y/L/N, Y/n's father. You know? The rich CEO. I'm calling because I'm afraid our family dog of 17 years has unfortunately died and we need her to come home right now."

Michael feels his right eye twitch as he slowly squints both of them.

"Ohhhhh…. I see…... Don't you worry, Mr. Y/L/N. I'll come and send her home right away."

Seokjin misses the way Michael's tone dips and peaks in sarcasm.

"Thank you, gentleman!"

Seokjin hangs up the phone.

That was easy.

"Seokjin, you have done it again." He praises himself, not knowing what chaos he had brought upon themselves.

Michael fumes at the deception you have just managed to pull.

You lying little bitch.

He bets Namjoon planned this out.

There's no way your spoiled air head could manage such an elaborate plan!

It also just so happens to be Namjoon's breaktime.

Oh, he's dead.

Michael calls out a random employee and tells them he'd be back in half an hour.

Good thing he overheard Namjoon mentioning Seven Flags to you yesterday.

He knows exactly where to look for you.

“WILL YOU LET ME GO???” 

You try your best to escape out of Jungkook’s hold as he parades you around on his shoulders.

You hate it. It makes you feel like either a misbehaving child or a damsel in distress.

You absolutely hate it! Yes, even the lovely view of his tush.... 

How'd you get in this situation?

Well, let's just say that Yoongi and Hoseok got what was coming for them when they decided to grab you against your will.

And by that I mean their mini mes aren't doing too well so now they don't want anything to do with you anymore and instantly passed you to Jungkook the moment they saw him.

You thought you could square up with Jungkook but surprisingly he is strong. Like, Hulk strong! 

Who knew that innocent looking dear is hiding this kind of superpowers underneath? It really is always the quiet ones huh?

“Y/n stop fighting it!” Taehyung scolds you. “Can’t you see that we just want you to relax?”

“You don’t understand! If I get caught--”

“You won’t get caught! Now, can you just relax??” With Yoongi yelling at you, you finally shut up and contemplate your situation.

Maybe they are right? Maybe you should trust them more that you guys aren’t gonna get caught. You are in dire need of some loosening up since last week, anyway.

“Fine, I’ll relax but I’m telling you! If I end up losing my job, you guys are going to have to pay for life support!”

Unfortunately for you, Namjoon spots you guys walking past even through the thick crowd of people.

CURSE THOSE BRIGHTLY COLOURED ICEA UNIFORMS

What the duck are you...Oh, Seven Flags. Right.

How many times are you going to deviate from him??

UNBELIEVABLE!

He follows you guys as best as he could, forgetting his breaktime and his need to eat.

“WELCOME TO MY DOMAIN, PEASANTS AND Y/N!” Seokjin not so subtly greets you guys (to which Taehyung still scoffs to)

“I’m so glad that you could make it, sweetheart! I thought you wouldn’t--hey! Namjoon, you’re here too?”

Nam-WHAT?!

You whip your head back and true enough, Namjoon is approaching your group.

“Uh, Namjoon-” 

“Save it.” Namjoon talks over you right away.

Taehyung steps in front of you protectively.

“Hyung, seriously. You’re completely overacting. If anyone needs to chill here, it’s you!”

The other guys voice out their own opinion of Namjoon’s apprehensive ways.

Ugh. They wouldn’t understand him. 

They wouldn’t know responsibility even if they get hit in the face with it.

He’s about to argue against all of you but then he hears Seokjin whisper to Taehyung, “It’s most probably why he’s never dated anyone.”

ACA-SCUSE HIM???

This is giving Namjoon flashbacks to the eve of his graduation! This is the exact same scenario wherein the guys convince him to do something stupid just to prove to them that he can also lose control and “have fun”.

He’s feeling really triggered riGHT NOW!

Don’t do it, Namjoon. Don’t! You’re better and stronger than this.

“He’s probably gonna end up like Michael and not have any relationships even until his late forties.” 

Okay, that’s it. Taehyung’s added dig is what pushes him!

“You guys think I really can’t have fun??”

You feel quite scared of Namjoon. And it’s not because of your current predicament! He just looks completely unstable.

Yoongi adds on to the fire, “Oh, we know you can’t. What are you gonna do about it?”

Namjoon pushes past everyone all the way to the front of the group then looks back at all of you.

“Well?” He asks expectantly. “I thought we’re gonna have a “skip work” day? What are you all just standing there for?”

Oh, hell yes.

They’ve cracked him once again.

Now it’s time to have some fun!

(This is the part of the show where a montage of the main characters having fun is shown while an indie “coming of age” type of song plays in the background.)

(You know, stuff like you guys trying to go on every roller coaster but then one of you *ʰᵒˢᵉᵒᵏ* throws up just after the second one)

(Then you guys run off to the games booths. Seokjin and Taehyung complain about the rigged games while Namjoon surprisingly wins a blue stuffed koala from the basketball hoops)

(You guys then crash through the souvenirs. You take so long going through each item as if any one of you can buy something) 

(Just all around, full of laughs and happy memories)

Through it all, Namjoon loosens up while you take it all in since this is the first time you’ve done anything fun with a large group of “friends” :’)

"You know what, I'm glad I skipped work today. It is good to be irresponsible every once in a while!” Namjoon loudly muses with a candy floss on one hand and the koala plushie on the other.

You all voice out various replies of agreement while you all munch on your respective hotdog or candy floss.

“We’re just humans. We can’t constantly have it all together and that’s fine! I mean, even machines break down and need some taking care of from time to time.”

Again, you all agreed with what he’s saying. This is slowly turning into something really empowering and moving, not gonna lie.

“Sometimes, you just need to step back and drop everything. As Miss Eleanor Roosevelt once said, ‘The purpose of life is to live it, to taste experience to the utmost.’ My friends, if forever ends tomorrow, how would you wish to have spent your last day?”

At this point, half of you guys are tearing up because of this moving declamation. Even Hoseok and Seokjin are clapping their hands.

ℕ𝔸𝕄𝕁𝕆𝕆ℕ 𝔽𝕆ℝ ℙℝ𝔼𝕊𝕀𝔻𝔼ℕ𝕋

“There’s no harm in letting yourself indulge in selfish acts from time to time!”

Okay, maybe there is some harm in that especially if you’re not careful with your actions but none of you wanted to ruin his moment so once again, all of you just agreed.

Damn, all of you are really full on goading Namjoon and it’s a really nice gesture.

What’s not nice is that Michael finally found your group.

CURSE THOSE BRIGHTLY COLOURED ICEA UNIFORMS.

“You know who needs to be more chill?” A completely innocent Namjoon that’s about to get absolutely wrecked asks your group.

You guys most definitely shouldn’t have encouraged him further to save his ass but fair play to all of you, y'all didn’t see Michael coming.

“Michael.”

The subject of your discussion stops walking for a second at the sound of his name. 

𝙃𝙚 𝙣𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙡? 

𝙄𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜....

𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙙𝙤𝙚𝙨 𝙉𝙖𝙢𝙟𝙤𝙤𝙣 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙩 𝙝𝙞𝙢? 𝙇𝙚𝙩’𝙨 𝙨𝙚𝙚...

“Man, that guy is so uptight! Even for my own standards, which is saying a lot!” Namjoon continues to rant.

“Yeah, you’re tighter than my butthol—“ Yoongi elbows Seokjin so he won’t finish his disgusting analogy.

Luckily, Namjoon is too engrossed with his speech to catch what Seokjin just said.

“Like, it's just a stupid store!”

𝙟𝙐𝙎𝙏 𝘼 𝙎𝙏𝙐𝙋𝙄𝘿 𝙎𝙏𝙊𝙍𝙀?????

𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘼𝙐𝘿𝘼𝘾𝙄𝙏𝙔 𝙊𝙁 𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙎 𝙈𝙀𝘼𝙎𝙇𝙔 𝙀𝙈𝙋𝙇𝙊𝙔𝙀𝙀 𝙏𝙊 𝘿𝙄𝙎𝙍𝙀𝙎𝙋𝙀𝘾𝙏 𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙄𝙍 𝙎𝙏𝙊𝙍𝙀.

Namjoon has only said one bad thing about ICEA but Michael hAs HaD enOuGh! No one ridicules the holy name of ICEA, especially not in front of him.

So he determinedly continues to walk up to your group all the while you guys egg on Namjoon’s passionate moment of awakening of living life to the fullest.

It’s quite emotional. 

(;´༎ຶٹ༎ຶ`)

You guys are so proud of him.

In the middle of his burning speech, the rest of you finally sees Michael walking behind Namjoon.

Oh shit.

nO ONE PANIC. 

You guys need to stop Namjoon from further making a fool of himself so you made your own subtle ways of telling him to shut up.

“If one employee in that monstrous ICEA doesn’t do their job properly for like say, a small amount of time— Uh, are you guys okay? Why do half of you look constipated?”

You all tried your best to play it cool and warn him as Michael is just a few feet away but Namjoon’s IQ 148 of a brain might not be that useful after all.

“Anyways…” He completely brushes all of you off. “The store’s like, not gonna burn down if he— Honestly, why are you all looking at me like that? What are you guys--oh…..Ohhhhh……..”

Fina-FREAKING-ly, Namjoon takes a hint!

“Uh, I mean… I guess it’s uhm, quite noble and admiring for uh… For wanting to be such a model employee- err, BOSS! Yeah, uh I can’t blame him for being such an amazing- no, outstanding representative of ICEA and I dEFINITELY SHOULD take hints from him…”

This is painful to watch. All seven of you could just pretty much do that coffin dance meme right now with Namjoon inside of it.

Namjoon realises that his really awful way of trying to save himself isn’t believable enough and for the first time in his life…

H̑̈ȇ̈ q̑̈ȗ̈its̑̈

Namjoon sighs heavily. “He’s not buying any of this bull, huh?” 

“Nope, not at all.” Michael finally says something and Namjoon faces him with his head bowed.

“You and you!” He points to you and Namjoon. “Back to ICEA! NOW!”

That concludes your first (and quite possibly the last) “skip work“ day.

Rip Namjoon’s rebellious phase. It was unfortunately short lived but it will still be missed by everyone, nonetheless.

Michael didn’t spare the two of you on your way back to ICEA. 

He’s mad-MAD.

“I cannot believe you would let something like this happen! I thought you’re better than that!” 

He pops off with a capital P on Namjoon which is confusing because uh, hello? You’re also here??

“And those things you said? DISGRACEFUL. Completely dishonourable! I should get you fired--”

“Sir, if I may?” You interrupt him.

You’re definitely going to lose your job after this. But it’s fine if it means clearing Namjoon’s name.

“I don’t think you should punish Namjoon. He did nothing wrong. I was the one behind all of this.”

Namjoon tries to intervene but you ignore him.

“He didn’t want to go AT ALL. He even warned me against it but… I didn’t listen. In fact, I never listen to him. I give him too much shi--PROBLEMS! Yeah, I keep ignoring all his professional help. All this time, he’s been trying hard to keep me on track. Like, I’ve never met anyone so responsible and patient in my entire life! So really, if there’s anyone you should punish, it’s me.”

The entire time, you kept looking at Namjoon, hoping that he gets the message that you’re apologising to him.

If it weren’t obvious, Namjoon is utterly moved by what you just said. He’s never heard anyone compliment him like that for so long! It’s everything he’s ever wanted to hear.

“Well…” Michael thinks for a moment.

He wants to go all ape on Namjoon because his perfect record really pisses him off… But his moral compass is preventing him from doing so.

“Even if you’re behind all of this, Namjoon still said some unacceptable comments and I can’t brush over that.”

He looks the two of you hard.

Yep, the two of you are screwed.

You’re gonna have to find another place to pay your dad. Ugh.

For some reason, Michael can’t really bring himself to rat you out to your boss.

(Spoiler alert: It’s actually because he knows he needs Namjoon more than he lets on and that you seem to be attracting a lot of rich ladies lately)

So he decides to let you go BUT NOT ENTIRELY!

“Fine, I won’t tell our boss about this.”

HUGE exhale!

“BUT! I expect you both to work harder and overtime for the next month.”

Aha wat.

Alright, alright! That’s better than getting fired… It’s fine! You’re sure you’ll manage! Right?

Little did you know, Michael will make your lives a living hell in the next few weeks.

Especially Namjoon.

Namjoon thinks he’s super uptight?? Oh, he’s seen nothing yet! 

😈

He dismisses you both as you get to ICEA and you guys walk away from him as if nothing happened.

“Wait!” Namjoon scratches the back of his head when you look back to him. “Uh…”

Why does he look like he’s in physical pain? Should you be concerned??

“Are you okay?”

“YES, I’m fine! Uhm, I mean yeah, yeah I’m good.... I just- I really want to uh…” He clears his throat. WHY IS HE BEING SO AWKWARD?!

He raises the blue koala he won a while ago to you and you stare at it, confused.

“Take it.”

Ó.ò

What is this?

“I owe you an apology. I was too harsh on you. More than I need to be!” He chokes out, looking everywhere but you.

This was unexpected. A pleasant and unexpected turn of events. But you can’t let him bear all the shame here.

“You have every right to be. I understand where you’re coming from, trust me! I was a complete pain in your bum and I was potentially sabotaging your career too… So, really, I should be the one asking for your apology in the first place.”

Your soft tone and the equally soft look you have melts Namjoon’s heart even more.

Maaaaaan! He’s an idiot. How could anyone ever say mean things to you???

“No, it was totally unacceptable and I’m really, really sorry about everything I’ve said! I hope you accept my apology. Besides, I heard you’ve been hogging all the customers lately. You must be doing a pretty banging job then!”

You perk up at that and your face lights up, much to Namjoon’s pleasure.

“You've...heard?”

“Of course! What? You think I was completely ignoring you all this time?”

You sheepishly nod your head in which Namjoon chuckles to.

Wait a damn second… Holy smokes, were those- Does Namjoon HAVE DIMPLES???

He takes your hands and you feel your heart rate start to pick up.

He’s holding your hands what is this what is going on what is life his hands are big and warm oof

“Here, take this.” He gives you the koala then lets go of your hands immediately.

Sad reacs to that, bros

“Let this be a symbol that I will no longer be pushy towards you.” 

“And that I will try my best to no longer be a royal pain to you!” You chime in.

He smiles at that.

GASP

He DOES HAVE DIMPLES

Dimples are your weakness.

Why have you only fully realised this fact about him??

Oh sweet baby Jesus, take the wheel.

“So are we good now?” He asks.

Are you guys good? ARE YOU GUYS GOOD??

You forgave him the second you caught sight of his immaculate dimples.

“Yeah, all good.”

*** In a vague British wildlife commentator accent ***

𝑨𝒉 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌! 𝑯𝒆𝒓𝒆, 𝒘𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒂 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒅 𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒅 𝒌𝒊𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒂𝒍 𝒉𝒂𝒃𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒕.

𝑳𝒆𝒕'𝒔 𝒑𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒆𝒇𝒖𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒐𝒃𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒐𝒆𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒅𝒂𝒊𝒍𝒚 𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝒘𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒕𝒉𝒚 𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒆𝒔.

𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒅𝒆𝒏, 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒔 𝒊𝒕 𝒂 𝒑𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅 𝒇𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒓.

𝑺𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒂𝒚𝒔 "𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒐" 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒔𝒏𝒐𝒃𝒃𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒘𝒔 𝒂 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒚 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒌,

𝑾𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒃𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒅 𝒌𝒊𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒑𝒖𝒏𝒄𝒉 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒗𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒓 𝒃𝒖𝒕𝒕𝒐𝒏,

𝑮𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝒂 𝒉𝒖𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒔 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒐𝒏𝒆,

𝑮𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒐𝒐𝒓𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒎𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒃𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆.

𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒆𝒆, 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒅 𝒌𝒊𝒅 𝒊𝒔 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆.

𝑶𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒏 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒑𝒐𝒑𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒍 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒅𝒐𝒎.

𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒃𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒍𝒂𝒎𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒆𝒙𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒓𝒔.

𝑻𝒐𝒅𝒂𝒚, 𝒘𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒎 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒉𝒆𝒓. 𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒃𝒚 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒅, 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒍𝒂𝒅𝒍𝒚 𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆.

𝑨 𝒒𝒖𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒖𝒏𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒖𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒚 𝒔𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒄𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒐𝒅𝒂𝒚.

𝑭𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒍𝒍 𝒖𝒏𝒄𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒆𝒙𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒒𝒖𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒖𝒔𝒖𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒎𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒐𝒏 𝒆𝒚𝒆.

𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒏𝒐𝒘, 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒂𝒚?

𝑾𝒆𝒍𝒍, 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒊𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒂 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒚𝒆𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒇 𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒕𝒉𝒚 𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒆𝒔.

𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒆𝒆, 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒍 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒉𝒂𝒔 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒄𝒖𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒅 𝒌𝒊𝒅 𝒊𝒔 𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈.

𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒅 𝒌𝒊𝒅 𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒑𝒔 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒉𝒂𝒃𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒕, 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 𝒂 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏-𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝑱𝒊𝒎𝒊𝒏.

“Wow, you’re early today.”

Jimin looks up from his phone and smiles at you brightly as if him being here, this early, without a car is normal.

“Well, I thought, ‘why not do something different today?’ Namjoon hyung had his eye opening experience the other day so maybe we should have one too, don’t you think?”

You eye him warily at this sudden weirdness. 

“Uh, yeah. Sure… Whatever you say.”

With that, he extends his arm out like a gentleman and expects for you to link yours with. 

Huh. 

What is this? Why does it feel like he’s planning on something?? Where is his car???

He senses your hesitation so he steps even closer to you and his smile turns softer.

“Y/n, do you trust me?” He simply asks, his piercing gaze burning you.

If any of his army of fangirls and fanboys see this, you will be burned at the stake instead.

Oh, what a way to start the day.

But is all this weirding you out? Absolutely. 

Nonetheless, did you link arms with him without any further questions? Absolutely. 

Come on. It’s Jimin. What’s he gonna do? Bring you somewhere dangerous??

Your blood will turn gold first before that happens.

You must admit, walking down the street whilst linking arms with Jimin is a pleasant feeling.

A very pleasant feeling.

So much so that questioning him why you guys are seemingly taking a morning stroll instead of going to work slips your mind.

But not enough for you to forget to take note of the fact that he really does seem familiar with your surroundings, bearing in mind that you guys drive through a different route to work.

Jimin distracts you from the present with his charming smiles and warm stories of his first day of work.

His dad was supposed to drive him but he ended up taking the bus instead, much to his displeasure.

He’s not used to taking public transportation, perhaps? He’s also rich and slightly spoiled, perhaps?

His explanation, though, falls short of your expectation.

Apparently, he is slightly claustrophobic.

Well, that does make sense but still! This investigation is beginning to get colder than the frozen french toast you had for breakfast this morning.

Yes, you bought frozen french toast because even that simple meal is something you don’t know how to make.

You eventually share your current troubles with your dad. Jimin’s well aware of your car-less situation but you’ve never fully ranted to him about it.

To say the least, you are fully immersed in your discussion. You are so in the zone as if you are talking about something you are extremely passionate about.

People would think you are going on about something big like climate change, with how serious you are.

You also didn’t question why the two of you stopped by this bizarre looking pergola for a few minutes before entering a bus.

You did not even bat an eye when his arm tightened around yours after he realised the crowd inside the bus.

His anxiety was starting to kick in, okay??

Little by little, the bus gets even more crowded. 

What are we expecting here? It’s literally the morning rush hour.

It’s not that bad for any normal person. But for a claustrophobic Jimin and an inexperienced bus traveller Y/n, it’s ＢＡＤ.

Jimin focuses on you what you are talking about but his heartbeat still spikes with each passing bus stop. 

It didn’t help that you guys were just standing.

Curse public transportations.

He should be in the comforts of his baby, Herbie, right now. Yes, he named his car. You got a problem with that? Cause you can take it up to Yoongi or Taehyung!

“This is for Y/n.” He repeats to himself countless times. 

Even though it’s clear that this experience is not only for you but for him as well. You’re not the only one trying something new here as he is also getting over his own fears.

“How could he just throw his one and only daughter-- hEY watch the Valenciagas, would you?” You unintentionally raise your voice to this guy who accidentally stepped on your left foot.

The guy barely said anything and just gave you a scoff. 

To be fair, you shouldn't really wear expensive shoes to work.

Why do you even consider wearing your best shoes when you could literally pass as a minion with the rest of your ICEA uniform.

You make a mental note to wear your "normie" sneakers the next time you take the bus.

What were you thinking wearing these today as you take the bus??

….

………….

The. Bus….

Wait a dang second…

THE WHAT?!

????

(• ◡•)

"JIMIN!!" Your voice booms throughout the small confines of the crowded bus.

If this was a cartoon show, we'd be looking at a shaking bus right now.

Your fellow passengers all give you various looks of disapproval.

On the other hand, Jimin leaps a tiny bit at how startling your voice was.

Bless the poor lad. He is quite on edge right now and you aren't helping him at all.

"Don't give me puppy eyes. You distracted me! I can't believe it. To think that we were just talking about how awful public transportations are!"

He did not drop his puppy eyes. 

"I'm sorry but we have no choice! I don't have Herbie with me today."

You groaned. "I bet you did that on purpose, didn't you? That's why you were going on about trying something new a while ago!"

"Well…"

Wow. Just wow. 

You can't believe Jimin could do something so devious and sneaky. Maybe he's not so nice and innocent after all.

You try to take your arm away from his hold but he tightens it even more.

"Come on, Y/n! Don’t be mad at me. I’m really sorry but this’ll be a big help!”

IN WHAT WAY???

You want to stay mad at him so badly. But his face is just too cUTE!!

Gosh dammit JIMIN!

You can’t really do anything now since you guys are already inside the bus.

So you held on tighter to a frightened Jimin to comfort his slightly claustrophobic ass. (Which he welcomes oh so willingly, might I point out)

You need to stop being selfish since he’s clearly having a much harder time than you!

It’s not that bad! I mean, look. You’ve already passed by 6 stops. Apparently the mall is just 4 stops away.

You can do this it’s not that bad it’s really easy peasy lemon squeezy Jimin is really cuddly 

Jimin is really cuddly.

When the bus finally arrives at The Centre, you and Jimin yeet yourselves out of the bus faster than anyone can. How’d you manage to elbow through all the people is beyond anyone. 

In an instant, you see the six good looking men you’ve come accustomed to in the past few weeks, waiting by the same weird pergola you and Jimin stopped by a while ago (which you eventually find out is a bus stop)

The small “CONGRATULATIONS” banner did not go unnoticed especially since a totally unamused Yoongi is holding it.

Somehow, you find the colourful banner decorated in flowers and happy faces juxtaposed with his stern face very very cute.

Would you look at that?

You never thought that's a word you'd openly associate with Yoongi.

Better not let him know cause that's, without a doubt, going to be your death.

“Welcome, newly rebirthed people!!” Hoseok immediately walks up to the two of you and gives you a massive hug.

“Dude, don’t make this weird.” Seokjin slaps Hoseok away and in return, gives you a massive hug. “I’m so proud of you, children! I knew you two are capable of living amongst the normal people.”

Ohhhhh, they're in on this. Of course they'd be. There is NO way Jimin would've done all of this on his own.

The guys took turns in congratulating and giving you two hugs. It was quite a weird sight to behold this early outside the mall but hey, any achievement is important! So to everyone passing by, STOP BEING A KILLJOY AND LET OTHER PEOPLE ENJOY THEIR LIFE THE WAY THEY SEE FIT.

(Wow that got intense real quick and the narrator wishes to apologise.)

Behind all of them, Yoongi stands with the banner still in his hands.

You know what’s something else that he still also has?

His signature unamused and annoyed look.

Everyone looks at him, expecting him to give in to the ongoing mini celebration.

Wow, do his friends really not know him at all?

“What? You expect me to give hugs for something a grade schooler can do? Yeah, right! Get to work, people.” 

Yoongi rolls his eyes and walks away towards the mall entrance. (Still holding the banner.)

Even after a few weeks of knowing these people, you still can’t get used to him.

“He really doesn’t like me at all, huh?” You whisper quietly to Taehyung as you all follow along the grumpy man inside to get to your own respective jobs.

“Yoongi hyung? Nah. If he doesn’t like you, he wouldn’t even acknowledge your shadow.”

“I feel like that’s what he’s already doing though.”

You firmly believe that you’ve done something to this guy in your past life and somehow, he remembers it.

Tae chuckles. “He’s just not the most welcoming and affectionate type of person. Trust me, you don’t have to worry about him!”

That still doesn't make you feel reassured at all.

“I don’t know… Being cold is one thing, but this? He hasn’t even said anything remotely nice to me since knowing him!”

Taehyung stops in his tracks and holds both of your shoulders so you could look at him directly. “It was his idea to wait for you and Jimin at the bus stop.”

* insert surprised pikachu face *

“What?”

“Yep, that’s right. I’m telling you, Y/n, he does like you. He just has a weird way of showing it. He's like that to all of us." Oh, and don’t tell him you know it’s his idea. He’s gonna have a cow or something.”

Oh, okay then…

You’ve been wanting to get reassured that he doesn’t have some personal vendetta against you. But now that you have it, you just. Don’t. Know. How. To. React…???

You kinda thought you’d rejoice about knowing he doesn’t have it out to get you but now it just seems…. Normal.

Like not a big deal anymore.

Huh.

Maybe you have gotten used to his cold ways.

……...

So it was his idea to greet you and Jimin at the bus stop, huh?

If he’s totally cool with you, then does this mean you can tease him about it???

Oh, things are finally getting quite comfortable for you.

To conclude things:

You’re starting to think that maybe being an adult isn’t so awful of a thing to be.

You and Namjoon are finally off to a good friendship after a vERY rocky start.

Michael is actually the devil in disguise.

Jimin may or may not be rich, we’ll get back to that in the future.

Hoseok STILL doesn’t know what the 98% is of a 2% milk.

Jungkook is secretly the Hulk.

Seokjin is currently finding his next job.

Taehyung has grown a huge distaste for braids.

Him and Yoongi might have a future career in acting.

You apparently owe Yoongi a total of 1.10 dollars.

Oh, and he also isn’t totally disgusted by you after all :’)

All in all, you’re starting to actually like this rowdy group of guys.

TAGLIST:

@loveyoongles​

(If you want to be added to the taglist, just let me know!)

[captaincartervalues]

My Stubborn Alien (for the fic title thing)

“Jus truuusst me, Lena thi- thisis a greaaat idea!” Kara empathically waves her hands.

“Kara, you’re drunk and this is most definitely not a good idea.” Lena replies matter of factly.

“Imnot drunk. Yooou’re drunk.”

Lena shakes her head at her girlfriend in exasperation.

“N Ssure it is! S’its what the peeople want. ANd it’s gunna be gREAt for ma image! No more ‘Oh Supergirl’s sooo uptight’ or ‘Oh Supergirl is toooo muchofa goodie tooshoes’ or ‘out of touch with the people’!” Kara airquotes.

Lena raises her eyebrows and tries to conceal her smirk.

“Imma be hip! Imma be wit da people, LenAa!” Kara reaches out to boop Lena’s nose as she’s making her last point. “Supergirl is CoOl Ssupergurl is sFun! Thhiss is gonna show everyone that. Okay? Okay.”

“Does this have something to do with the article Andrea had William publish this week?” Lena asks gently.

“NooOoo.”

“So this has nothing to do with her saying Supergirl isn’t the kind of hero you wanna have a drink with?” Lena presses.

“Uhh noo.” Kara insists defiantly. “It’s about the gAys!” Kara comes up with.

“What?” Lena laughs out.

“Nia said Tiktok is on the rage and the gays love it! And I wannabe something the gays love toooo” Kara points out.

“Darling, I’m pretty sure the gays already love you...”

“Yeeaaaahh BUT do they knooow I love them back?! Isdunno... Isss why I need Tikstok!” Kara exclaims as if her reasoning is flawless.

Lena looks at the innocent face on her drunk girlfriend and knows they’re going to be in trouble tomorrow. “There’s no talking you out of this right now, is there?”

“NOpe!” Kara smiles triumphantly.

Lena sighs as she acquiesces “Fine.”

Kara jumps up and down with exuberance.

“But I’m not taking any of your complaints when you regret this tomorrow.”

———

Kara wakes up with a decent hangover, which wouldn’t be so bad, if she didn’t also wake up to an empty bed and no Lena to snuggle.

With a pouty face and her eyes half closed, Kara glacially shuffles out towards the kitchen and freshly made coffee. Although, she quickly realizes her and Lena aren’t alone this morning when she hears a whispered conversation.

“Alex? What are doing here so early?” Kara inquires as she excitedly spots the donuts her sister must have brought over.

“Oh you know just catching up with my future sister-in-law about how your night was.” Alex says sharply.

Kara brushes past the sister-in-law comment and looks skeptically at Alex as she eats her second donut. “It was fine. Pretty low key.” Kara says with her mouth full.

Alex scoffs “LOWkey?! Mmm and how much of it do you remember there, Kar?”

Kara looks to Lena with questioning eyes but Lena won’t quite look at her as she chuckles behind her coffee cup. “Most of it...I mean I don’t really remember going to bed once we got home but -”

Lena bursts out laughing at Kara’s unassuming admission.

“This isn’t funny, Lena.” Alex chastises.

“I mean it kind of is, Alex. Come on, it wasn’t that bad in the end” Lena argues.

Kara cuts Alex off before she can argue back “What wasn’t that bad?”

“Oh why don’t we just show you superstar!” Alex quips.

Lena takes pity on Kara’s still confused face and pats the seat on the couch next to her “You’re gonna want to sit down for this one, honey.”

Kara takes the offered seat as Lena hands her phone over to Kara after opening the Tiktok app. Kara’s mouth immediately drops when she sees herself in her Supergirl suit on the screen.

“Oh no!” Kara gasps.

“Oh YES.” Alex digs. “Go on, press play.”

Kara presses play and immediately regrets it as she watches herself stare back with ‘sexy’ eyes and lick her lips before lip syncing:

“I wanna put you in 7 positions for 70 minutes. You get it babe. You got a lot on your mind and I want to ease it up and lick it and slip it in. You do a light scream on the ice cream when I scoop it and dip it in.”

“Oh. My. Rao.” Kara groans as she presses pause to stop the video. “Why am I seducing the camera in my Supergirl suit?”

“That’s a great question, isn’t it Kara?” Alex jabs sarcastically. “Lena?”

“You said it was trendy and that the TikTok gays would appreciate it.” Lena offers.

“Why didn’t you stop me??” Kara whines.

“I tried!” Lena defends. “You told me it was homophobic and a hate crime not to post it!”

“I am never drinking Vahorian Rum again.” Kara says as she sinks into the couch.

“You said that last time.” Alex mocks.

Kara glares at her sister before attempting her patented optimism. “Okay, so I made a TikTok as Supergirl last night. At least it’s just this one video with only - um” Kara checks the phone “3.6 million views...”

Kara sighs, “It could be worse.”

Alex and Lena exchange a knowing look and Kara’s eyes go wide.

“I made MORE than one video?!?” Kara postures.

“Try like six.” Alex huffs disapprovingly.

“Oh Rao!”

“Weeelllll, she only posted six...” Lena adds.

“OH RAO!” Kara groans. “Show them all to me now.”

The three of them proceed to watch all of Kara’s drunkenly produced TikToks from the night before.

“Ayyyoooooo bisexual check!”

Kara doesn’t even know how she manages to roll the sleeves and pants of her supersuit but she watches herself do it before putting a beanie and chucks on, grabbing her ukele, and topping it off by replacing her cape with a bisexual flag.

“I don’t even have a bisexual flag!” Kara blurts.

“You do now.” Alex points to it draped over the dining table.

Kara looks at Lena baffled.

“You said it was ‘essential’, yelled ‘brb’, and came back with the flag and some candy before I could open my mouth.” Lena explains.

Kara sighs and scrolls to the next video.

“Ayyyoooooo everyone thinks my cousin is hot check!”

This video turns out to be just Kara rolling her eyes and shaking her head with embarrassment in front of a bunch of pictures of Kal in his Superman suit. Most of the comments on the video are either ‘well they ain’t wrong doe’ or ‘not as hot as you Supergirl’ and Kara isn’t sure which she hates more.

The next one starts with Kara and Lena standing next to and looking at each other with background music and the caption ‘whenever Lex tries to take over the world’ and ends with them not missing a beat as they turn towards the camera and lip sync:

“What kind of fuckery is this?”

“Okay this one is kind of funny.” Kara cautiously proclaims.

“Yeah I liked that one too.” Lena admits with a smile.

“Should have said ‘whenever Lex does anything’.” Alex corrects. They all burst out laughing at that.

With the mood slightly lightened, Kara scrolls to the next video.

“Ayyyoooooo jawline check!”

Kara is already cringing again as she anticipates watching herself show off her jawline but is surprised when the camera flips to Lena rolling her eyes as Kara’s hand turns her head to its profile to hype up her girlfriend’s impeccable jawline.

“I’m so sorry” Kara says sheepishly.

“It’s okay, babe.” Lena reassures her as she presses a quick kiss to Kara’s lips.

“I mean...Lena’s jawline was made for this trend sooo...” Alex concedes.

Lena rolls her eyes again as Kara shrugs, “She’s not wrong, babe.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just watch the last one you posted because it’s Alex’s and mine’s favorite.” Lena says as she and Alex laugh in anticipation.

“Oh no.” Kara sighs before scrolling.

Music plays as she watches stock images of Superman, the Flash, and the Arrow pop up before Kara appears and lip syncs the last line with a cocky grin:

“These boys ain’t shit.”

“Oh my - Lena! How could you let me post theeeese?” Kara tries again.

“Listen,” Lena starts “you’re very stubborn when you’re drunk and it took everything I had to keep you from posting the other videos!”

“Do I even want to know?” Kara questions.

“I do!” Alex says taking a little too much enjoyment in Kara’s suffering.

Lena pulls out another phone.

“At least you guys were smart enough to use one of Supergirl’s burner phones and not your personal phones.” Alex says.

Lena tosses Alex a side eye. “Do I look stupid to you?” Lena asks rhetorically. “I also added extra layers of encryption to the app and the phone just in case.”

“Well I don’t know! You were stupid enough to fall in love with this idiot.” Alex mumbles as she points toward Kara.

“Normally I would be offended, but after last night, you might have a point.” Kara says.

Lena pulls up the the drafts she refused to let Kara post.

The first one is Kara floating with Lena in her arms in a bridal carry and the caption ‘when you save Lena Luthor from an attack’. Kara is looking at Lena before she turns to the camera and lip syncs:

“I think. You know. Where this about to go.”

Drunk Kara added some eyebrow raises and a wink before kissing Lena at the end.

“Okay it’s probably a really good thing you didn’t let me post this.” Kara admits.

“You think?!” Alex chastises.

Kara clicks on another video in the drafts to avoid Alex’s judgmental gaze.

This video is Kara and Lena standing in from of the camera facing each other as Kara lip syncs to her:

“You say we’re just friends....”

Kara smiles and pans to the camera. “But friends don’t know the way you taste.”

Kara smirks as Lena’s mouth drops and she goes to stop the recording immediately.

“OHkay I did not need to see that last one, Lena!” Alex complains.

“You asked for it.” Lena shrugs.

“She’s right. You did.” Kara backs up her girlfriend.

Alex glares at them both. “You two are lucky no one pieced together where you were or who you are!” Alex scolds as she points at Kara.

“I think it helped that Supergirl and I have a known working friendship.” Lena admits. “No one questioned why she was drunk and with me.”

“What has been the overall reaction to these?” Kara inquires.

“Honestly, it’s been mostly positive with most fans loving the content and an inside look at playful Supergirl.” Lena explains.

“Though there have been some critics questioning why a hero would get drunk at all with the responsibilities you have.” Alex levels. “And some negative responses from parents about the appropriateness of some of the content.”

Kara sighs resigned to the damage she has done.

“But. On the positive side, you were right!” Lena adds with encouragement.

Kara tilts her head quizzically.

“The gays LOVED it and they loved that they now definitively have a shot because you like girls!” Lena teases.

“Oh Rao! I can not believe Supergirl came out as bisexual on TikTok! Kate got an incredibly well written and thoughtful article on what it means to her and the world that Batwoman is gay and I got thirst traps! THIRST TRAPS!” Kara groans.

Alex shakes her head and Lena tries to hold back her laughter.

“I can’t believe you let me do this, Lena!”

“Hey, I told you it’s not my fault! You’re one stubborn alien when drunk.”

“But I’m your stubborn alien and you’re responsible for me.” Kara counters with a whine.

Lena sighs as she takes Kara into her arms. “You are my stubborn alien...with a drunken propensity for thirst traps.”

———

Kara embraces her drunken mistakes and utilizes her newly created TikTok fame to connect with the people and kids of National City on a more human level. She does PSAs and educational material in her videos as well as more lighthearted fun ones that people love.

She also managed to convince her superfriends to be in videos with her. The most liked videos on her page are the ‘flip the switch’ videos she’s done with the other heroes where the light goes off and they swap costumes. It started with Dreamer when Nia told her about it and convinced her to do it. Then Kara got Barry to do one (pretty easily) and then Sara, Killer Frost, J’onn, Mia, Constantine, and even Kate (after a lot of convincing). She also roped Kal into doing one with her old suit so he ended up in a skirt. That one is definitely her fav.

Generally, Supergirl’s official account has veered aware from making any more thirst traps, but that doesn’t seem stop other creators from making raunchy thirst traps about Supergirl.

Though, after some time and much convincing from Lena, Kara releases the last video in her drafts from that first drunken night.

“They say drunk words are sober thoughts” a sober Supergirl says as she shrugs and the video cuts to the clip of her drunk sprawled out upside down on the couch “Women are just like...sooooo HOT”

A lot of women liked that post.

[sandu-zidian]

Blabbing about this Musician!au I started last summer that has now also turned into a marching band!au because I got sad and nostalgic because despite how shitty it could be, marching band defined my high school life and social life and I couldn’t had asked for anything else.

I also don’t have every single prequel character (because this au is surrounding the prequel characters) in Star Wars smacked into here, and I gave up halfway through a couple of months ago in terms of brainstorming. Anyways, this is hella long so check everything out under the line if you’d like! don’t want to spam everyone with something that’s like, 4 pages long

Now, you might be asking. What instruments are these characters playing, or what are they doing in marching band? well, boy oh boy do I have some lore for you.

Anakin Skywalker: alright lets start of with the “Chosen One”. Now, I gotta say. He’s got some intense brass vibes, specifically high brass. But I don’t know. He didn’t really mesh well. And given his natural talent with the Force in canon, I thought that Anakin would be a sort of prodigy. And we all know the two instruments associated with that: the piano and violin. He’s more of a piano dude, so here we go! piano prodigy Anakin Skywalker. He also gives mad drumline vibes, and I can see him as either the lead snare, setting the tempo, or the main quad player. He’s brash, slightly obnoxious, but damn is he fucking good at what he does.

Obi-Wan Kenobi: I literally started this AU on the idea that Obi-Wan would play the cello. One of the defining quotes for him is that fucking “infinite sadness” quote. And we all know that cellos play some of the saddest pieces out there. (see: Elgar cello concerto) However, I can’t see him as a marching band dude. He doesn’t really give off color guard vibes (since that’s where most non-band people go to) so I have him as the resident student helper who everyone tolerates because he brings ice cream after band camp.

Ahsoka Tano: Ahsoka is a flute player. As a flute player, I have intimate knowledge on this. She’s like the chill flute player who’s competitive enough to keep her position as principal, but is also chill enough to not have a big ego that butts heads with everyone. She also gives mad color guard vibes. Also speaking about that from personal experience (am I lowkey projecting my own experiences on her? you didn’t hear that from me). She seems like the type to love swing flags and sabre, and is 100% captain by senior year.

I have Anakin, Obi-Wan, and Ahsoka as siblings in this AU because I say so. Qui-Gon is around here somewhere as the resident hippie dad who lowkey smokes pot and will support his children while giving a big ‘fuck you’ to Dooku. 

Yoda’s also in here somewhere, and I love the idea that he’s an old Chinese/Asian man who refuses to speak english and will only do so with the most backwards grammar so his grandchild (Qui-Gon) and great-grandchildren (the trio) are forced to speak Mandarin/Cantonese to him (pick your poison). He just spends his days cutting up fruit and also might pull out his erhu if everyone asks nice enough. (I want to say he was a Peking Opera musician, but immigrated during Mao’s reign after he lost opportunities during the cultural revolution)

So, I know that it doesn’t make sense for a family to have 3 sets of twins and one triplet set, but fuck that I do what I want.

Cody Fett: okay so, Cody 100% plays the french horn. I don’t know, he just, he does. He’s got that air of sophistication because he can play the hardest brass instrument, but at the same time, he’s incredibly good at it and is matter-of-fact about it. He also would be the mello section leader (I was playing with the idea of drum major, but for now, leaving him as a section leader for now). He’s a bit uptight to be a low brass player, but cool enough to still be associated with the general brass group.

Rex Fett: I got Rex and Cody as the eldest Fett twins. Rex feels like a string player, so I have him on violin. I can see him be very hardworking and practicing diligently to the point where he easily sweeps through to concertmaster in high school and the local youth orchestra. He also gives of mad drum major vibes. I can see him copying music, handing out drill charts, and hauling the met around. Also, just think about Rex doing a fancy ass salute at competitions. Yes.

Next round of twins lets gooo

Jesse Fett: You could say Jesse has brass vibes. I see him as a reed person though. In concert band, he’s on clarinet. I used to think clarinets were as stuck up as us flutes but no they’re literally balls of chaotic energy ready to be unleashed. Just imagine Jesse blaming everything on his reed. I see him as the guy who switches to saxophone for marching band, though. He’s got the energy of the clarinet and the saxophone harnessed. Also, wouldn’t be surprised if he knows how to play the sousa.

Kix Fett: Y’know, when I originally made this AU, I had Kix as a musician as well. I’m gonna scratch that. He’s going to medical school, or at least, he’s planning to. He’s on the pre-med track and is dying in organic chemistry and wishes there weren’t so many pre-requisites. However, in high school, he definitely played the oboe. Of course Kix chose one of the hardest instruments to play. Also, just imagine him trying to make his own reeds. I don’t see him as a guy who’s in marching band. He’ll come to competitions and maybe football games if he’s bullied into it. Kix is the guy who’s classes are all AP and he’s dying inside.

Next round of twins yeet:

Fives Fett: shit, I forgot I gave them all real names. If I remember correctly, Fives is Frank. Anyways, trumpet vibes. Need I say more? He’s on the trumpet in marching band as well and he’s the dude who’s obsessed with DCI and always tries to play as high as he possibly can and absolutely demolishes his chops. I would say he’s section leader as well. He also hangs with the drumline at the back of the bus and always plays meme songs on blast and sends weird pictures to people’s phone via open airdrop.

Echo Fett: I think his birth name is Ethan??? I’m spitting thoughts not checking my old documents. Anyways. Echo feels like a string person. Specifically, low strings. So, he plays the bass. Upright bass. Whatever. You get what I mean. He sleeps in the case after school and hates hauling it everywhere. He was in marching band as a mello player (the easiest brass instrument to pick up for the activity so) but he was in a car crash that left him paralyzed from the hip down, and had to quit to recover. He never stopped playing, and found ways to adjust. (I do not know how exactly this would work, since I’m able bodied and also don’t play the bass, but I know he’d at least have a stool to sit on in order to lean his body on. let me know if you have other ideas i’d love to hear them!)

Finally, we got the triplets:

Dogma Fett: Dogma plays the bassoon. He’s a low reed kinda guy and between the bari sax, bass clarinet, and bassoon, he fits the last one the best. He and Kix moan over making reeds and he’s on the quieter side. He just vibes and plays all the low notes and has fun whenever he’s got some moving part. I see Dogma as someone who is only casually into marching band. He uses Jesse’s old student clarinet as his instrument and he’s always on time, knows his sets, and his technique is on point. He always finds himself roped into his brothers’ shenanigans though.

Tup Fett: Tup plays the harp. I like to think he met Shaak Ti (we’ll get to her in a bit) when he was young, and she was playing with an orchestra. He met her backstage and she offered to give him lessons. Tup’s not really a part of high school orchestra but sometimes he’ll be brought in. He’s more involved with solo work and the youth orchestra more than anything. Tup’s another on where I don’t think he’d be into marching band. Though I can see him being in winter guard as the dude who just shows up and is lowkey rip and therefore is a hunk on the rifle. His technique’s good but they’ve never been able to saddle him into fall guard.

Hardcase Fett: (i’ve given up on remembering the birth names so i’m just gonna not) Hardcase is 100% low brass vibes. He can’t be anything but a low brass. I see him as a tuba player. He’s chill, laid back, but also reliable for being the foundation of the band sound. He plays the sousaphone in marching band and always blasts either Seven Nation Army or some other popular show tune right after rehearsals. Hardcase also can play the bari sax and no one knows when he learned how to. 

OKAY we’re done with the Fett’s! Jango and Boba are in here somewhere but honestly I don’t have enough brainpower to come up with what their roles are. Jango’s gonna be a good dad though. Maybe he was a musician and that’s why most of his kids are going into music. Or maybe he’s just a supportive father. Boba’s the youngest though, that’s for sure. And he’s a little shit. Don’t know if he plays an instrument (probably) or what it might be.

Now lets get into some other characters! There’s a lot. And I wasn’t even halfway done with the characters I wanted to include. What the hell was I on last summer?

Padmé Amidala: Padmé is a flute player who quit after freshman year of high school and started taking music production and music theory classes. She loved it so much that she decided that composing was her jam. Now, she’s highly successful and often works with well known pianist, Anakin Skywalker, on piano concertos. Also, she may or may not be dating said pianists but you didn’t hear that from me.

Satine Kryze: twosetters don’t shit on me but Satine feels like she’d play the viola. She and Obi-Obi-Wan definitely dated in high school but after a year broke up on mutual terms and are just good friends now. A lot of people feel like she’d have been a better political science/international studies major than a music major but she’s good so no one complains (until she gets into a fighting match with someone and wins smugly)

Bo-Katan Kryze: shes Satine’s younger sister and is a mad athlete. She doesn’t play any instruments but she’s deeply active and is on scholarship for college, on the pre-med track with Kix. She’s very scary and most people are too intimidated by her to approach.

Plo Koon: I originally had him as an asian man, but I can see Native American as well. He plays the euphonium and he’s just a sweet man. He helps out a lot with private lessons at local high schools and is often brought in to help with low brass during marching band.

Wolffe Koon: Wolffe and Gregor (get to him in a bit) were both adopted by Plo when their parents died when they were very young. Plo was their godfather and he took them in like they were his own. They’re cousins to the Fett brothers (though don’t ask me how I have no idea). Wolffe is an engineer and works close to home.

Gregor Koon: Gregor is Wolffe’s younger brother and had a short stint of musical interest in middle school but quit after he entered high school. Gregor was in a serious car crash during college that left him amnesiac for a year before some of his memories returned. He now owns a restaurant and sticks close to home. Wolffe often comes around to check up on him because his brain injury still impacts his current life in small physical and emotional dips

Kit Fisto: Kit gives off mad trombone vibes and it’s mostly because he seems incredibly laid back. He’s one of those brass players who’s just a nice guy and while jokes around, never got pulled into jokes as a student.

Shaak Ti: like I said above, Shaak Ti is most definitely a harpist. She has that ethereal quality I think is common in harpists. She’s a tall Indian woman and she loves her job! She’s a private lesson teacher and instructor at the conservatory on top of her job in the orchestra since she’s not called in often to play. She loves all her students and gives good hugs.

Mace Windu: Mace is the director of the Jedi Symphony, the orchestra which almost everyone is involved with. He is a bass player and he likes his more classical pieces over contemporary music. He’s good friends with Yoda and sometimes the old troll has to wack some sense into Windu and have him take on newer pieces. Windu 100% gives off unhinged director vibes because mistakes and lazy musicians definitely don’t end after high school/college is over.

Quinlan Vos: this lil shithead definitely is the obnoxious, slightly arrogant, but kind of deserving of that, percussionist. He loves his snare drum and is also in the drumline. He’s the same age as Obi-Wan and the two are close friends. Quinlan is definitely slightly unhinged and is always at the back of the bus causing havoc after competitions. He’s the guy that I (OP) hate but also can’t help but respect cuz yeah he’s annoying but at least he’s good.

Aayla Secura: Aayla is Quinn’s half-sister, and plays the French horn. Again, like Cody, she’s got this air of professionalism that I associate with French horn players and like, we gotta represent the girls in brass somehow. She just fits it really nicely.

I feel like now is the time to list who’s still in conservatory and who isn’t: Obi-Wan, Anakin, Rex, Cody, Jesse, Quinlan, Padmé, and Satine are all recent graduates. Ahsoka, Aayla, Fives, Echo, Tup, Dogma, and Hardcase are still in conservatory (at varying years of course). Kix and Bo are entering med school/frantically applying and banging their heads cuz MCATs. Wolffe and Gregor are older and have been in the field for quite some time now. Plo, Kit, Shaak, and Mace are all faculty/seasoned professionals.

Somehow, I was gonna bring in The Skiratas (with proper research cuz I know very little about them), Dooku, Ventress, the Oppress siblings, rest of Domino Squad, Cut Lawquene, the other CCs, and more. I designated a page out of my sketchbook for this and my oh my the flow chart was hella confusing. How I thought I was gonna handle that in the summer before my first year of college, I have no idea. Maybe I’ll brainstorm more in the future but for now, this is all I have :]]]

Also excuse some of my slightly unhinged language I started writing this a few days ago while slightly unfocused and tired and stressed so my language is a product of that

[lezliefaithwade]

Being An Actress

I remember the moment I decided I wanted to be an actress. I was walking across the parking lot of my high school after an undoubtedly stellar performance as Portia in an all-girl production of The Merchant of Venice when my father turned to me and said, "Do you think you might want to do this for a living?" At the time I remembered feeling a little insulted. My grades were excellent. Didn't my father think I could be a lawyer or a veterinarian or a psychologist? It wasn't that I didn't love to act, but everyone I knew who wanted to be an actress was either egotistical or unstable. Not that one was mutually exclusive of the other. What did this say about me? No one in my family acted, although my Grandmother often hinted of an unsubstantiated family connection to Hermoine Gingold. Occasionally my parents would take us to see a play or listen to a concert, but only to help make us well-rounded individuals. When someone would go on about the Sound of Music my father would roll his eyes and say, “How can I take a nun singing on hilltops seriously?” And I found myself admitting that he had a point.

When I was four I appeared on Romper Room for an unprecedented two weeks. At the time my best friend, Mary Lou, had been selected for the local cable network but her incredibly shy demeanor had her mother worried.

“She’s gonna sit there like a sack of potatoes.” Mrs. Dean told my Mother who quickly suggested that I accompany Mary Lou for moral support.

“What do I have to do?” I asked my mother as she was tucking me into bed.

“Just be yourself,” she replied. My mother knew exactly what that meant. Naturally loquacious I kept things hopping on the set by constantly commenting on the camera man kissing the teacher. When asked what my father had in his garage, I remarked that it was presumptuous to even assume we had one. There was some discussion about a third week, but Miss Dawson put her foot down and said I was stealing the show.

Soon I was taking dance classes and skating lessons. My first stage appearance was as a rabbit in the famous ballet, Bugs Bunny's Birthday Party. I was excited because we second tiered rabbits were going to eat sandwiches on stage. Then disaster struck. The sandwiches were going to be peanut butter and I hated peanut butter. Teary eyed I complained to my mother who told me to grin and bear it. “That’s acting,” she said.

In grade four I wrote a play about a pair of motorcycle lovers and sang Baby Driver while they straddled their desks and rode off into the sunset.

“Hit the road and I’m gone.

What’s your number?

I wonder how your engine feels?”

“Okay,” Mrs. Orcutt interrupted, “I think that’s all the time we have for that today.”

After my father gave me his blessing to pursue a career on the stage, I decided to explore all of my options. I auditioned for an amateur theatre company and played bird #4 in Aristophanes’ The Birds, and a milk maid in Galt MacDermot’s musical adaptation of Shakespeare’s Two Gentlemen of Verona. Not exactly earth-shattering roles, but I knew there was a pecking order (no pun intended) and that dues must be paid. In Niagara Falls, where I lived as a teenager, there were two amateur companies. The youth group that took over the Firehall Theatre in the summer months of July and August, and the adult group that staked their claim the rest of the year. The youth company was run entirely by a handful of 18 to 20-year-olds who took themselves very seriously. We stretched ourselves artistically, which is really just another way of saying that were out of our depth. I remember as Bertha in Pippin I had to say, "Men raise flags when they can't get anything else up." At the time I had no idea what that meant but I certainly enjoyed the response I got every time I said it.  

The amateur theatre company in the neighbouring city of St. Catharines were doing large scale musicals with professional directors and a cast of a thousand. Even I could tell the difference between Garden City’s production of West Side Story and the Niagara Falls Music Theatre Production of A Shadow Box. We told ourselves that we were doing something significant for the five or six audience members who sat in the dark to watch us perform. “At least they can appreciate art.” we told ourselves, ignoring the occasional snore beyond the footlights.  When someone who had seen our production complained in the paper that “…smut didn’t belong on stage.” I was devasted. “Some people just don’t know a good thing when they see it,” I ranted, “It’s a Pulitzer award winning play.”  I forgot that we weren’t Tony award winning actors.

Anxious to spread my wings and get a taste of the real thing, I auditioned for a one-act play festival at the nearby University and managed to get the part of an uptight bible thumper in an original musical called A Hundred Bucks a Week. It was the story of a topless shampoo parlourist who castrates a guy with her teeth. Did I mention that it was narrated by a cat? I still remember singing:

“We all must be as babies in the garden.

Smiling with our mouths all bright and new.

Innocently smelling lovely roses.

Not prying with our fingers in dog doo.”

Needless to say, my father was a little shocked when an actress appeared on stage topless while I sang my heart out in a futile effort to convert her. This time as he walked me across the parking lot to the car he suggested that perhaps I should seriously consider journalism at Carleton. “Impossible!” I stated dramatically, “I’m an actress.” And I actually believed it.

I arrived at University wearing vintage clothes with frizzy hair and John Lennon glasses. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to be Doris Finsecker from Fame or Janice Joplin. My dorm room-mate was an engineering student who was the first to know of a kegger and had never seen a play in her life. She often returned to our room late at night reeking of booze and sludge water after spontaneous dips in the Detroit River.

At theatre school I was told I couldn’t dance, I couldn’t sing, I had speech impediments and a wandering left eye that would completely destroy any hopes of a career in film “Too bad you didn’t have it looked at when you were a kid,”one professor told me, “It’s easily treatable if caught when you are young.” At the age of five I was a frequent visitor to Sick Kids Hospital for my eye and wore a patch over my glasses for a year. It didn’t cure me. So much for trusting the knowledge of my professors. Strike one!

I began to sink under the pressure of looks and expectations. While the rest of the women in my class wasted away proclaiming to have eaten nothing but broccoli over Thanksgiving, I gained seven pounds over a new found love of peanut butter and developed a bad attitude towards anyone who encouraged me to “feel space”. When my teacher overheard me mutter under my breath one day that I hated improve she called a class meeting to discuss why I hated her. Everyone stared at me shocked and disappointed. Why was I resisting the pu-pu platter of techniques spread out before me? “You’re a very stubborn actress,” the teacher announced, “but I’m going to break you.” That was strike two.

At my first semester tutorial I was told that I had talent, but I wasn’t tall, thin or pretty enough. “You have the face of Sally Field,” the department head told me, “but the body of Kathy Bates.” Strike three.  I went home for Christmas and announced to my father that I was dropping out to focus, instead, on getting into a proper theatre school in New York. After all, I reasoned, it’s where I really wanted to be anyway.

There is probably nothing quite as depressing as returning to your hometown in the middle of winter when all of your friends are away at school having the time of their lives. The overall perception is that you have failed. It didn’t help to think that I had willfully brought myself to this point in time. The phrase, “small fish in a big pond” kept going around in my head. While my best friends were acing all of their classes and dating interesting freshmen, I was eating cookies, and counting the days until everyone would return to amuse me. In the meantime, I moped around the apartment, wrote letters to theatre schools and read a lot of plays.

“You have to get a job.” My father announced and for the first time I was forced to slog my way through the want ads in a half assed attempt to find work at either a wax museum or a fudge shop. Completely unqualified for anything except theatre, I was forced to become a chamber maid at a tacky little hotel near Clifton Hill. Picking up after the kind of clientele that honeymoon in tacky hotels in Niagara Falls is enough to get one thinking seriously about their life choices. Maybe Dad had been right. A career in the theatre wasn’t looking so good anymore. Something had been tarnished from University and I couldn’t pretend that my trajectory to success was going to be one clear straight line to the top. I’d hit rock bottom and was picking up the condom rappers and dirty Kleenex to show it.

There have been many times in my career when I’ve been very close to throwing in the towel and becoming a real-estate agent or a tour guide.  At each one of those moments of genuine universal surrender something miraculous always happens. That year it was a letter of acceptance from the Neighborhood Playhouse in New York. By now my father, less convinced that I could make a go of it, made me a deal. If I could find a place to live in Manhattan within a week, he would allow me to go. So, I boarded the train in Buffalo and headed for the Big Apple.

I arrived in New York at around 2:00 PM on a very, very hot day in August. I walked straight to the library, took out the Village Voice, circled an advertisement seeking a room-mate for a four-bedroom brownstone on the Upper West Side, was interviewed at 7:00 PM and secured my living accommodations within twenty-four hours. It didn’t matter to me that I had no idea who the three men I’d be living with were. The place was nice and the price was right. I think I heard my father drop the phone when I called to tell him that I had accomplished the impossible. Studying in New York proved to be the best and possibly the worst thing that ever happened to me. I developed a philosophy of acting that has served me in every way, but it also created a high standard that hasn’t always been easy to live up to.

_________________________________________________________

A few years ago, I was invited to direct a production of Blue Stockings at the same University I had so unceremoniously departed from those many years ago. Parallel universes collided as images of my past kept imposing themselves on the present. There was the quad I had been initiated in. There was the building where I’d slept and laughed and cried. There was my window with the view of the cemetery and McDonalds. There was the library where I looked up the address of every theatre school in New York. There was the theatre I did my practicum in, all pretty much the same as the day I left it. The walls, hallways, buildings hadn’t changed, but I had. I didn’t need reassurance anymore. I didn’t need someone to tell me what I wasn’t or couldn’t be. If only we could teach students the value of tenacity and resilience.

I enjoyed directing that class. I hope I encouraged and inspired them. I was happy when they came to rehearsals in sweats and tee shirts, less concerned about how they looked than we had been. More confident in their choices. More involved. On Opening night after the cheers and flowers and the congratulations, it felt good to climb into the car and head for home. I’m not cut out for institutions. I don’t like the brick and the neon and the bureaucracy. Still, it was good to make my peace with that time in my life. On the four-hour drive to Niagara I was thinking about the young people I had just worked with making the transition from student to actor. Maybe some of them will end up in New York. Maybe not. The thing about acting is it can take you anywhere…from Romper Room to the stars with a few tacky hotels in between.

[wheremytwinwatches]

[Where My Twin Watches]: Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood Episode 10

Time to watch Brotherhood, the charming show where absolutely nothing bad is going to happen this episode, right?

Right?!

Starting off with [EXPLOSIONS], looks like a flashback to the Ishvalan Civil War/Genocide, troops in blue running and falling as they charge Ishvalans in a ruined town. Up until there’s a snap of fingers, and the screen turns red. And out of the smoke comes Roy, thinking about how he’ll do everything he can to protect the people he loves.

Jeez. This show’s not pulling any punches when it comes to the reality of war, is it?

In the aftermath of the attack, Roy’s explaining this philosophy of protection to Hughes, who likens it to a pyramid scheme. And the only one who really profits from such a scheme is the one at the top of the pyramid. Hey, Fuhrer! How’s the weather up there?

Roy continues to be incredibly unsubtle about his goal of becoming Fuhrer, Hughes jokes that it’ll at least be fun to watch. And maybe his “naive idealism” can do some good? But as easygoing as Bradley generally acts (this is the guy who easily cut down Mr. Freeze, moves at Homura speeds, and ordered a freaking genocide), I don’t think he’s just gonna step aside if Roy asks nicely.

Back to the present, seems Roy was remembering this as a dream, taking a nap in his office. Not much time for sleep, with all the preparation for the Central transfer.

Episode 10 - “Separate Destinations”

Well, that music’s not ominous at all!

In the hospital Ed’s recounting what happened in the Lab, complete with illustrations. Armstrong and Hughes are discussing the ouroboros tattoos and TC, and all the other mysteries surrounding the case. Of course, any answers they might have gotten are now under a ton of rubble.

...Is that really such an issue? I mean, a good portion of the cast are matter manipulators, can’t Armstrong just punch the boulders out of the way?

Hey! Stop eavesdropping, Brosh!

Ross is smart enough to not sneak a listen on her superior officers. And ooooh dear, it’s the big cheese himself.

Bradley says he’s stopped by for an informal visit. Heard that Ed was injured, thought a nice melon might cheer him up. Um. Ok?

Uh oh. Bradley picked up that Armstrong has been “checking up” on some of the senior staff. And he’s frowning now. Um.

“And now you… my revered Fullmetal Alchemist…” holy crud his voice went all gravely

“Tell me what you know about the Philosopher’s Stone.”

“And I hope for your sake… that you don’t know too much.”

This is bad this is really bad the Goths were bad enough but if the Government really was running that Lab then these guys just trashed a project of Bradley crap crap crap

Wait, what?

“Ha ha ha! I’m only kidding! There’s no reason for you to be so uptight!”

Hold up, what the hell was that all about?

Bradley’s saying that he knows there’s been some suspicious activity in the military lately, and something “needs to be done about it.”

...I’m still mostly convinced that you’re up to something, Bradley. But I’m not sure what.

Ooh, seems all the researchers assigned to officially study the Philosopher’s Stone have been going missing. Goth’s covering their tracks? And Bradley shows elements of being a spymaster, even with his informants he doesn’t know how much the Military’s been infiltrated, beyond “they know a lot about us.”

Now, a direct order from the Fuhrer; “To forget this matter and all that it concerns.” Since the best defense against spying is discretion, they need to keep this to themselves… up until Bradley thinks the time is right to confront them directly.

Hmm. I’m getting elements of conflicting plans here. The Goths are up to some evil involving Ed as a “sacrifice”, the leader of a genocidal government that was researching/making Philosophers’ Stones… There’s something going on here, I just can’t quite pin it down yet. Need more info.

Then all this plotting is interrupted by Bradley going out a window to escape his bodyguard. Still not seeing the Fuhrer in the best light, but you can’t deny that the character Bradley is a riot.

Winry stops by with some train tickets for Ed. Where are you off to, before you’re even healed up fully? Dublith? Play on Dublin? Oh, we finally get to meet this mysterious Teacher! Who even now has the Giant Suit of Armor shaking in his plate boots. A tough taskmaster?

Ed points out the town on a handy map, looks like it’s in the Southern Quadrant. But something shocks Winry about the trip, a town right before it?

“It’s the holy land of Automail engineering. It’s Rush Valley!” Well someone’s excited. Ooh, do we get Winry traveling with the Elrics? Also, predicting an upgrade in Ed’s future, if Winry’s that impressed with this place. What’s so special about it

Aw come on Ed, stop being such a pill. It’s not like you’re hurting for money as a SA. Maybe there’s elements of wanting to keep her out of danger (because you poor boys are trouble magnets), but you can do it! Also, moves my ship along? Please?

[Huges]: “She’ll make you a fine wife, someday.”

[Ed]: “Don’t start that again!”

Speaking of wives, Hughes is heading off to work, Elicia’s being painfully adorable, asking if Daddy can get home early that day. (!) Hughes says he’ll try to get back as soon as possible (!!), Mrs. Hughes tells him to not be late (!!!), Hughes says he’ll probably not see Winry again before she leaves (!!!!!), oh my LETO how many death flags can they wave at us?!

Damnit damnit damnit he is so dead. Why? Why do you have to kill off Hughes?! Guy’s a family man, he’s funny, he’s lighthearted. There’s enough tragedy in this world of lost limbs and genocide and soulbatteries already, you don’t have to up the ante! Uuuuugh. So annoyed at the blatant post-credits last episode, I’ve been delaying watching this one because I was so afraid of this. Gonna stop watching those from now on, too much spoilage potential.

“Oh, and tell the boys I said goodbye.” AAAAAARGH

“You just make sure to come visit us anytime you’re in Central, okay? Our home is your home too. ‘Til then… Take care of yourself.”

AAAAAAAARGH

Uuuugh, let’s try and move on. The Blond Kids are off on the train, Ed explaining that they’re off to visit Teacher for a couple of reasons, namely he’s tired of losing fights. Sadly he and Winry start squabbling about fighting, she wants them to stop. That’d be nice, Winry, but someone’s gotta stand up to the Goths. Also, they want to center themselves, boost their morale, and seeing an old teacher might help with that. As well ask her what she knows about the Stone.

Wait, what? Ooooh crap. They haven’t seen her since before the Incident, have they? So they’re gonna walk up to their Alchemy Teacher and have to explain “Yeah, I lost two limbs and my brother lost his entire body because we broke The Big Rule of Alchemy. So about some more alchemy training?” They are so dead.

Back in Central, Hughes is doing some research, going over the riots in Liore. Hey, don’t you diss Leto, random underling! Been a lot of stuff going on in the East Quadrant, as well as the North and West. Not the South? Current theory is they’re all too scared of the Elric’s Teacher to mess with her turf.

Suddenly, Hughes stands up, says he’ll be in the Archive room. Figure something out?

In the room, music’s picking up, Hughes is circling places on a map. What is- Oh. Oh my Leto. I think I just realized.

Liore, other uprisings, the Ishvalan Genocide...

The Philosopher’s Stone needs human sacrifices, and a Transmutation Circle.

We’ve already seen there can be a TC the size of a city.

Who’s to say there can’t be one the size of a country?

That’s it. That’s their plan. Craft a nation-sized Alchemy reaction. Create the True Philosopher’s Stone from the sacrifice of thousands, if not millions.

But whose plan is it? The Goths? The Government?

...but Hughes isn’t going to find out, is he? A long-haired silhouette just walked in and closed the door.

[Hughes]: “Cool tattoo you got there.”

[Lust]: “Those are your last words? Wouldn’t you rather scream?”

Leave him ALONE

NO

Wait, he got out? He got stabbed through the shoulder but he got out? How oh HELL yes knife to your fucking forehead, you bitch! You don’t mess with

FUCK YOU NO

you got a knife to the brain you don’t get to just calmly take it out no

Receptionist starts joking then realizes that Hughes is injured, he just walks past and says he needs a private line. Yes ok need to tell Roy about his but she’s not as dead as you think she is.

Wait what Hughes why are you walking away. Oh right Military either infiltrated or in on the whole thing, can’t use a military line. Get to a phone booth, use an outside line. Holdup while Eastern receptionist follows protocol, yet another STUPID death flag as Hughes drops a picture of his family… but this took too long. There’s the sound of a gun cocking-

Wait, Ross?! What are oh nonono please just be misguided don’t be part of the conspiracy.

Oh. Right. The Goths have a shapeshifter.

Come on, Hughes. Keep stalling, the phone’s not hung up so if it’s connected then Roy can hear this and get you help. And while the knife didn’t kill Lust it did slow her down so yes you’ve got another one you can

You. God. Damned. Bastard.

Envy has taken the form of Mrs. Hughes.

A shot is fired.

Only now, when it is too late, does the call get through to Roy. And Envy hangs it up.

[Envy]: “You humans don’t make any sense to me. You throw away your lives for nothing.”

hughes comment indicates hughes Goths inhuman hughes chimeras?

“Gracia… I’m so sorry… Elicia… Remember, Daddy loves you… I’m sorry.”

And Hughes bleeds out in a phone booth.

...The Blond Kids are enjoying pie on the train. It was baked by Mrs. Hughes. As was a quiche.

Ed talks about how Hughes is annoying, stopping by his hospital room every day.

Al thinks they should figure out some way to thank him next time they’re in Central.

We’re spared the scene of Hughes being discovered. But now we bear witness to his funeral.

[Elicia]: “Mommy? Why are they putting all that dirt on Daddy?” [Gracia]: “They’re burying him, dear.” [Elicia]: “But if Daddy gets buried, then he won’t be able to do all his work.” [Gracia]: “Elicia…!” [Elicia]: “Daddy said he has a bunch of work he needs to do! No, stop it! Stop putting dirt on him! Daddy!”

Armstrong is crying. Bradley is visibly shaking. Roy looks down.

The sun sets, as Roy chides Hughes for going and getting promoted to Brigadier General, rather than helping him climb through the ranks.

Riza walks up to the colonel. Who admits a large part of him wants to figure out human transmutation now.

[Riza]: “Are you alright, Colonel?” [Roy]: “Yeah, I’m fine. Except… It’s a terrible day for rain.” [Riza]: “What do you mean? It’s not raining.” [Roy]: “Yes. It is.” [Riza]: “Oh. So it is.”

…

Time resumes as Riza goes guns-akimbo at Scar, who dodges into the alley. The alley with Al still in there. Uh oh. And oh my Leto Roy, don’t you dare complain at the lady who just saved your life. “Useless on rainy days” indeed.

…

Roy’s investigating the events of Hughes’ death now, looking into the Archive Room. A trail of blood went to the phone room, and the receptionist reports that he came in, but then left without dialing a number. Roy identifies the code Hughes used as one used only for military emergencies. But he doesn’t know why.

Riza brings Armstrong, who says they have a list of suspects, but can’t determine their identities. And when Roy presses for details, Armstrong has to refuse. Right, the order from Bradley, he can’t talk about the Goths. But he does get a workaround, saying the Elrics were in town for a few days.

From all that, Roy’s able to determine a group is suspected of the murder, an officer above Armstrong ordered him to keep quiet, and the events involve the singular goal of the Elric Brothers: The Philosopher's Stone. Roy’s clued into the conspiracy now. So, in order to solve the mystery and get vengeance for Hughes, he’s going after the senior staff. With Riza at his side.

And so the episode ends, with Roy on a manhunt in the military, and the unknowing Blond Kids cheerfully laughing as their train heads south.

[rejectedbyeharmony]

“Fun Bobby”

I finished school in September, and immediately got to work. I took the first job I was offered, because I hadn’t worked in any capacity for about a year and I was dying to earn some money again! The job wasn’t great, but it had me traveling out to Centreville, so I started spending more time with my friend Janna.

I used to work with her husband, and we have a lot of mutual friends. Although I had been invited to events at their house before, I never really felt like more than an auxiliary friend, and rarely accepted. She invited me to her Christmas party that year, and I knew many of our friends were going to be there, so I agreed to go by myself. When I walked into their house, freshly bleached blonde hair and wearing a T-shirt with a Fairisle pattern of dinosaurs (because what’s better together than Jesus and dinosaurs right?) I attracted a lot of attention. Through hugs and high fives from a dozen friends, I saw him. There was a guy at this party I didn’t recognize. He had the most magnificent beard, and a great belly laugh. I couldn’t take my eyes off him the whole night.

It took me a while to realize that he hadn’t taken his eyes off me, either. We did this dance around our friends for most of the party, making eye contact, and laughing together at other people’s jokes, before we even talked to each other. Janna came over when she saw us close to each other and said “oh my God! I haven’t introduced you to my brother John.” I don’t even know Janna had a brother, but I was so happy to meet him. And once the introduction was made, we were stuck like glue for the rest of the party. We quickly found we both deeply enjoyed making each other laugh while observing the rest of the guests, smoking cigarettes together, and grabbing beers for each other. As far as party compatibility was concerned, we had SO much in common.

Towards the end of the party, realizing that we had too much to drink, Janna invited both of us to stay the night. We agreed to stay on the pull-out couch together, giggling about it while Janna eyed us and told us to “keep it down”. He and I sat up for a while and talked, and watched TV. He was a perfect gentleman with me, he just wanted to cuddle and it was really sweet. I gave John my number the next morning, and went home with a huge smile on my face. I didn’t really know anything about him, but I knew he was really fun and I was really looking forward to spending more time with them.

Within a week he asked me out, and we had our first date. Another effortless meeting, sharing a meal and some laughs. Soon after, I was invited to his house, and met his roommates and friends. A few weeks in, we double dated with his roommates and went to this winery. We both got a little wine drunk, and we’re texting each other from across the table hearts and kissy emoji instead of engaging with his friends. We went outside to share a cigarette and he told me he loved me. I loved him too. I still didn’t really know anything about John. I just really enjoyed his company.

So we continued to spend more time together, and got to know each other. What I learned was that: he was really good at his job, and it was very techy and complicated and even though he tried explaining it to me, I never really understood what he did. He had been in a long-term relationship before me, with a girl who really broke his heart. And his sister thought that she wasn’t out of his brain yet. Back then, that wasn’t a red flag to me, it was a challenge. I did everything in my power to be different than her, or at least what I understood her to be. She was a spin instructor who was a little uptight and hardly ever cut loose. So I quit going to the gym as much, and I was one of the boys with him and his friends. We had a lot of fun together, and we were falling in love without really defining what a relationship looked like to each of us.

I would go to his house every other Friday after work and we would party with his friends, and have great sex and spend the night, sometimes spending an entire weekend together. On the alternating weekends he would come to me. And we got to know each other‘s families and friends. My friends loved him. I think sometimes they were more excited to see him then me. He was always so affectionate and sweet when we were around our friends, and I really liked that about him because he knew how to keep a healthy balance of engaging with other people, and paying attention to me. He was never clingy or jealous, and he was so charming and got along with everyone.

But sometimes he was cold. Sometimes he felt like an emotional zombie, and that charismatic, affectionate man from the night before was someone different laying in my bed. I didn’t understand why he was so different the next day. Still, I felt like I was just learning about him. There was so much I didn’t know. And so much I had left to discover.

About eight months into our relationship, I found out I was pregnant. His sister had been experiencing a lot of trouble getting pregnant, and that was the first thing I thought about when I realized I was having his baby. It felt so selfish and wrong that we had only been dating for eight months and could have a baby, and she and her husband have been married for years and couldn’t. I was terrified to have a conversation with her. It never once crossed my mind that we weren’t going to have a future together, so my only fear in talking to him was centered around his sister. Despite the wishy-washy nature of my emotional security, I felt like we had a really good relationship. I felt like we were adults, we had even talked about moving in together, and that our relationship was solid.

Still, it took me a while to tell him. But one day I got really sad about hiding this from everyone we loved. Plus, all of our social events involved alcohol, and somebody was going to catch on that I wasn’t drinking. So I called him, overcome with emotion, but deep down I was confident that he would tell me everything was gonna be OK.

His response seemed so foreign to me, and came sharp and fast and nearly knocked me off my feet. “Absolutely not, we have to take care of it.” I was beside myself. As a progressive feminist, I am and always have been pro-choice. My choice was to keep the baby, but my heart was broken when I learned that his choice was not. Ironically, this came from first conservative guy I had ever dated. I was sure, because of his faith and political beliefs, that abortion was not even on the table. It never even crossed my mind that he would say any differently. I was shocked, he had knocked the wind out of me. My heart was broken, and I didn’t know if I could ever forgive him after that.

I made arrangements with Planned Parenthood and I made him go with me. As we approached the building, John saw firsthand what anti-abortion activists did to women were already in distress. He fended them off of me, in complete shock of how they attacked me. And honestly, I think he was afraid they were going to physically harm me. He was disoriented and sweating a little bit as we checked in at the lobby, and he sat and took my hand and stared at the floor.

We sat silently for what felt like hours. If we had been anywhere else, he and I would’ve been scrolling our phones or making little observational jokes about the other people, or telling each other stories about something. But we sat silently. There was nothing to say. I got called back and the operation took about 30 minutes. And it was rough. At the end, I walked out with my chin held high, because I couldn’t be ashamed of what I did. I didn’t want it, but I also didn’t want him to resent me for making a decision we couldn’t agree upon. I didn’t know how I felt about him anymore, but I was grateful that he was there for me. We drove home in silence, he dropped me off and didn’t come in. I cried myself to sleep that night, disappointed and alone.

Our relationship after that somehow continued on without a stumble, as though that day never happened. We were drinking enough, so it was easy to forget, I guess. One morning I was up before him and wandered downstairs to his kitchen to find something to eat. His roommate was in the kitchen. As I opened the fridge he laughed “there’s only beer in there.” I was like, “God it’s Sunday... y’all still have a lot of beer to finish today!” Then, his roommate casually mentioned to me that John would be drinking that beer on the way to work. I furrowed my eyebrows at him, and said “Uh... like in the car?” And he said “oh yeah. He drinks a beer on the way to work, he keeps a cooler of beer at work, and he drinks a beer on the way home.”

Suddenly it became very clear to me why he was so different at night than he was the next morning. He was an alcoholic. Its fucked up, but the thought crossed my mind that maybe if I had told him that I was pregnant when he was drunk, he would’ve been that same charismatic, loving, affectionate boyfriend that I had fallen in love with. But I don’t regret telling him when he was sober. He let me see his true self and made me realize that I made the right decision, even though it was one of the hardest decisions of my life. The absolute hardest was ending things with him.

While I was in college I babysat for my friend Melissa. I loved her boys, and I would spend more time with them than I did with her! They were the first kids that ever made me want to have kids. So even after college when I was working again, I would still watch them anytime. She and her husband were going away for a weekend, and asked me to stay with the boys, and housesit too. I asked if John could stay with us; we had a house, two boys, and four dogs to take care of, and I could use the help. I thought this would be a good opportunity to see if there was a future with John.

So I invited him to play house, and, surprisingly, he happily agreed. I thought that was a good sign, and I was excited about the prospect of us revisiting the idea of having a family. As much as I was heartbroken over our decision to terminate my pregnancy, I still yearned to feel a sense of belonging in our relationship again. So we spent all weekend together at Melissa‘s.

It went really well. He was great with the kids, and the dogs, and the house! We laughed and got along really well, and he was really affectionate and sweet to me, despite the fact that there wasn’t a drop of alcohol in our systems the whole weekend. I thought this was an incredible turning point for us and made me really hopeful about the future with him.

At the end of the weekend, I mentioned to him “hey, we make a pretty great team. Thanks for hanging with me this weekend.” His response again came sharp, and fast, and knocked me off my feet. “Don’t get any ideas Katie, I’m not ready for any of that.”

....ouch.

Even writing this, I had to sit in silence for a while before I could continue the story. He really broke me. I just couldn’t understand why he would agree to do that if he felt that way, and how he could be so cold to me. I knew that it was over and even though I loved him I had to end it. We just weren’t meant for each other. And he needed somebody that didn’t want anything from him. And I wanted the world.

He wished me well and we ended everything on a somewhat amicable note, but it was sad for everyone involved. My friends called him “Fun John”, like “Fun Bobby” on Friends. My family thought we would get married, and I think maybe his family did too. I tried to continue to hang out with Janna, but every event she invited me to, John was there. I vividly remember how horrified and confused everyone was when he and I were pal’ing around at his niece’s birthday bbq a few months after our breakup.

It never got any easier to be around him especially once we started dating other people, so eventually I just stop spending time with that group of friends altogether. He and I have kept in touch sporadically, as friends. He has no idea how much I still deeply care about him, and it’s probably for the best. His new girlfriend seems aloof and uninterested in much. And he seems to really like that about her. Last i heard they were either married or talking about it. So, good luck with that John.

[thotyssey]

On Point With: Heklina

Few can brag true legendary drag status on the American West Coast more than Iceland-born Heklina (named, fittingly, after a volcano). Her brilliantly batshit, camp-comedic performances combined with her creation of the long-running, multi-queen showcase Trannyshack (later revamped as Mother) have been essential in defining what San Francisco drag is today. Thotyssey is  honored to chat with this drag empress about her legacy, the glory days of San Francisco and New York drag, the nightclub she now runs, the state of comedy today, and her upcoming performance in the Wigstock revival!

Thotyssey: Heklina, hello! Thank you for talking to us today! So, you are one of San Francisco's most prominent queens and are likely the authority: is SF the city with the most perfect drag weather?

Heklina: Having just come back from Reykjavik, Iceland, I would say THAT is the best drag weather--unless it rains of course. But yes, San Francisco is great... the only exception would be the five days a year where it’s unbearably hot and NOWHERE is air-conditioned.

So you were just back in Iceland?

I performed there for Pride! I did a show with Detox, and Bjork came backstage to say hi.

I was just wondering if you were a Bjork fan.

I absolutely love Bjork--she is an utter genius, and I can’t count how many Bjork tributes we have done at Trannyshack, and now Mother (my new Saturday night drag showcase, if 4 years is new).

Trannyshack / Mother is the a long-running drag showcase you created in San Francisco with a very loose format; it broke in a lot of great drag talent over the years. Do you have any single memory of a performance or an occurrence during its run that really stands out for you today? Gosh there was so much. Very early on, there was a performer named Runrig who did a performance where he popped Jiffy popcorn off of a hotplate on his head. Immediately after his performance, he had to be rushed to the hospital with third degree burns on his scalp.

People did everything at Trannyshack! Injected themselves, pissed on each other, blew things up, drenched themselves in blood, pulled American flags out of their assholes. Someone almost burned the place down one night lighting an entire Christmas tree on fire.

Today's Brooklyn drag seems to be similar to how SF drag is often described: showcasing lots of queens filling the stage in one night doing one number each--maybe two--as opposed to a single queen doing an hour-plus show like in Manhattan. And the style of drag (Brooklyn and SF) is more non-traditional and outlandish. Why do you think drag evolved this way in San Francisco? I am going to do something I do not normally do (really) and toot my own horn. SF has this drag show format largely because of Trannyshack. I look around me, and just about every drag show I see in San Francisco now uses the Trannyshack “template,” i.e. a wacky themed show that changes every week.

The style of drag in SF I can’t take credit for--it was a style that heavily influenced me when I first moved here. Punk rock, DIY, no rules. I went into starting Trannyshack with these influences, which made it what it became: a venue where it didn’t matter who you were off-stage, it only mattered what you did on-stage.

The NYC format of one queen performing for an hour didn’t used to be like that. There used to be really interesting shows at places like the Pyramid, etc. That shows how old I am, I guess. The New York City I loved no longer exists... but then again, neither does San Francisco, in many ways.

You and That Other SF Drag Force of Nature, Peaches Christ, work together quite a bit, with these elaborate staged parodies and tributes of classic TV and movies. Are you two Judys at the point now where you can basically finish each other’s sentences?

Yes, and we are performing together at Wigstock this weekend! We are very dear, old friends, but I really don’t see her that much these days.  She’s been in Provincetown since June, then she’s coming back in October to SF to get ready for her Haunted House Extravaganza here. Our next big project together is the Queens Overboard drag cruise in February, with Jinkx Monsoon.

Speaking of old friends, I just re-watched you and Sharon Needles compete in WOW's Bestie$ for Ca$h. You knew her a lot better then she knew you!

Haha, the truth is we are not besties! We are friends, but we both happened to be shooting Hey Qween at a different studio that day, and I suggested she come with me to World of Wonder to do “Besties”, since my original choice (Mario Diaz) had to cancel last minute!

You're currently the proprietor of The Oasis, a SF cabaret nightclub where Mother now resides. What other kind of shows happen there, and how has becoming a venue owner changed your perspective of drag, if at all?

ALL kinds of shows happen there...  it’s hard to explain it all. Owning a business has, of course, changed my opinion of how expensive it is to run a business in San Francisco! Drag, not so much...  except as I get older I continue to want to do tribute nights to Siouxsie Sioux, Deborah Harry, Bowie, etc. at my Saturday night show Mother. But there’s just no audience for it anymore. Speaking generally, the audience for those artists is too old. If I do a Gaga or Kylie tribute it’s packed, so I’ve had to adapt if I want to remain in business.

With all this showrunning and venue-operating going on, do you get to actually perform as often as you’d like these days?

No, not really. A huge chunk of my time is spent at home, booking the club out and producing--I need an assistant!

Time for some current events! Bianca Del Rio recently got some flak for making a "rape joke.” Should some topics be off limits in drag humor, or have audiences just become too uptight?

I personally think NO topic should be off limits. It’s dangerous to say you can make fun of this, but not that thing over there.

To me personally, the best part of humor is to take the topic that is sad, or tragic, or taboo, and poke at it with a stick and take the power out of it. Some of the times, I have laughed the hardest is when people have made jokes that were so offensive I couldn’t believe it--Joan Rivers comes to mind--nothing to her was off limits, and she had a brilliant attitude that shocking humor levels the playing ground... there are no sacred cows.

And YES, people are way too uptight. There are literally people who wake up every day and scroll Facebook to decide what they should be outraged about, LOOKING for something to be offended by. Ultimately, what has gotten lost with the rise of social media is objectivity. It shouldn’t be what is being said, but who is saying it, and how.

But this is MY opinion, and I have a very dark sense of humor--it’s helped me through a lot of shit.

So you're coming to NYC this Labor Day Weekend for the surprise revival of Wigstock, the classic drag festival that first gave drag artists more mainstream exposure in the pre-Drag Race years! Have you ever performed in any earlier editions of the festival?

No, the last time I was at Wigstock was 2001. I attended with Peaches Christ, but we just had backstage passes, we weren’t performing. This was a week or so before 9/11--and those were the days before cell phones, when you would take film to be developed. So right after 9/11, I picked up my photos at the corner camera store in the Castro. There were all these photos with me and Joey Arias, Jackie Beat, etc. with the Twin Towers behind us--very bittersweet.

Wigstock will group you and Peaches with New York legend queens like Wigstock creator Lady Bunny and Sherry Vine. Do you have any other NYC queens you admire?

Who said I admire any of those cunts? Just kidding--as a baby drag queen I had a huge amount of respect for the NYC queens (Sherry, Joey, Bunny, Candis, Formika). I still do!

This new Wigstock should be one for the history books! Do you know what you're gonna perform?

Peaches and I are going to come out and reprise our comedy bit from last year’s Drag Queens of Comedy tour... hopefully we will be funny this time!

No doubt about that! Last question: What's your best advice for a baby queen coming up today?

Be yourself tonight--skip the Youtube makeup tutorials and find out who YOU are.  Drag is about self-expression, please remember that.

Thank you, Heklina!

Heklina is a San Francisco-based queen and owner of that city’s venue The Oasis--follow her social media (Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, YouTube, her website) for more info on her SF gigs, and check Thotyssey’s calendar for any upcoming NYC appearances.

On Point Archives

[realhankmccoy]

Goin through a playlist of this some gal made on Spotify. Sorting it into what I find 'liberating' and what seems like 'the beginning of the end / the walls closing in' regarding where music has ended up. Of course, a lot of this music is socially disastrous, capitalistic, anti-gay, etc. but hey, I'm thinking more about sonics.

Also, twee indie is almost dead, so I don't know what I'm talking about, probably. There's just something about it twee indie that, to me, went really hand-in-hand with everyone's transition to a judgemental, uptight, afraid-of-weirdness, accusative computer nerd, which is what almost everyone in America became.

Johnny Rotten, of course, became a massive right winger. Liberating:

Iggy And The Stooges – Raw Power Pixies – Surfer Rosa

The Shaggs – Philosophy Of The World

Fang – Landshark

MDC – Millions Of Dead Cops

Bad Brains – Rock For Light David Bowie – The Man Who Sold The World

SWANS – Young God EP

Public Enemy – It Takes A Nation Of Millions To Hold Us Back

FEAR – The Record

Black Flag – Damaged

Butthole Surfers – Locust Abortion Technician

The Beatles – Meet The Beatles

Flipper – Album – Generic Flipper

Tales Of Terror – Tales Of Terror

Rites Of Spring – Rites Of Spring

The Clash – Combat Rock

The Slits – Typical Girls

R.E.M – Green

Aerosmith – Rocks

Sonic Youth – Daydream Nation

PJ Harvey – Dry

Sex Pistols – Never Mind The Bollocks, Here’s The Sex Pistols

Gang Of Four – Entertainment!

Saccharine Trust – Paganicons

Scratch Acid – First EP

Tales Of Terror – Tales Of Terror

Black Flag – My War

Wipers – Is This Real?

Wipers – Youth Of America

Wipers – Over The Edge

End Times:

The Raincoats – The Raincoats *

Kleenex – Anything by *

Beat Happening – Jamboree *

The Knack – Get The Knack

Young Marble Giants – Colossal Youth

Need To Listen or ReListen to In Full: Butthole Surfers – Butthole Surfers

The Vaselines – Dying For It

The Frogs – It’s Only Right And Natural

The Saints – Know Your Product

Various – What Is It

Shonen Knife – Burning Farm Cassette

The Faith/Void – The Faith/Void

Leadbelly – Leadbelly’s Last Sessions Vol. 1

Mudhoney – Superfuzz Bigmuff

The Breeders – Pod

Daniel Johnston – Yip/Jump Music

Half Japanese – We Are Those Who Ache With Amorous Love

Public Image Ltd – The Flowers Of Romance

Marine Girls – Beach Party

Mazzy Star – She Hangs Brightly

Jad Fair - Great Expectations

I'm gonna relisten to those three end times albums to better understand why twee, cleaner-toned indie gives me the willies so much. I don't like snobbish, sanitised things and associate it with that because of what came later, though Beat Happening was deffo always highly snobbish.

50 by Hank::

The Sisters of Mercy - Vision Thing

Kate Bush - Never For Ever

The Clash - London Calling

Sonic Youth - Goo

The Wipers - Is This Real?

The 13th Floor Elevators - The Psychadelic Sounds of the 13th Floor Elevators

David Bowie - Hunky Dory

Amanda Lear - Queen of China-Town

Elastica - Elastica

Joni Mitchell - Court and Spark

The Smiths - The Smiths

UNKLE - Psyence Fiction

The Cummies - Suicide Tools

Verbena - Into the Pink

Recoil - Unsound Methods

Radiohead - O.K. Computer

Smashing Pumpkins - Gish

Lucinda Williams - Essence

The Stooges - Raw Power

Garbage - Version 2.0

Rammstein - REISE, REISE

Alanis Morissette - Jagged Little Pill

Belly - Star

Patti Smith - Horses

Sleater-Kinney - One Beat

Hole - Celebrity Skin

Bruce Springsteen - Born in the U.S.A.

Dirt - Alice In Chains

Judas Priest - Screaming For Vengeance

Bob Marley - Catch A Fire

Tom Waits - Bone Machine

Tim Buckley - Goodbye and Hello

Magazine - Real Life

Siouxsie and the Banshees - Hyaena

Girls Against Boys - House of GSVB

The Replacements - Tim

My Bloody Valentine - Isn't Anything

Tricky - Maxinquaye

Kristin Hersh - Strange Angels

Isaac Hayes - Hot Buttered Soul

Black Uhuru - Brutal

My Life With the Thrill Kill Kult - Sexplosion!

Low - C'Mon

The Shamen - En-Tact

Concrete Blonde - Bloodletting

Nirvana - In Utero

Sleater-Kinney - The Woods

REM - Automatic for the People

Mary J. Blige - No More Drama

The Fiery Furnaces - Blueberry Boat

The Fiery Furnaces - Rehearsing My Choir

Sheryl Crow - The Globe Sessions

Earth Wind & Fire - All 'N All

[closingtheme]

HAUNT 1989

Rating: Mature (For Violence, Blood, Crude Language, ukw kind of like PG-13 but more gore is allowed.

Archive Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death

Categories: F/M, Other

Fandoms: IT - Stephen King, IT (Movies - Muschietti)

Relationships: Stanley Uris/Original Female Character(s), The Losers Club (IT) & Original Female Character(s)

Characters: Original Hanlon Character(s), Original Female Character(s), Original Female Character(s) of Color, Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak, Beverly Marsh, Stanley Uris, Mike Hanlon, Ben Hanscom, Minor Characters, Bill Denbrough, Pennywise (IT), The Losers Club (IT), Henry Bowers, Henry Bowers's Gang (IT)

Additional Tags: Childhood Trauma, Childhood Friends, Childhood, First Love, Murder, Death, Canonical Character Death, Friendship, Siblings, Protective Siblings, 1980s, Adaptation, Wordcount: 10.000-30.000, Complete, Horror, Body Horror

Language:English

Summary: Shanice Hanlon and Her Brother Mike move to Derry after the death of their parents and encounter something that will change their lives forever.

IT.

As she navigates newfound friendship, deals with grief and trauma she tries her damnedest to survive this inhuman cause of the children of Derry disappearing.

William Hanlon was a murderer.

Shanice wanted to not believe it. She hoped it was a nightmare of some kind, a really messed up one. The day he was arrested, it’d been a particularly nice day; she remembered watching fondly at her parents as they danced to Prince. Mike had out in the park playing with neighborhood boys.

She sat to herself, on a brown, suede sofa, reading the newest issue of JET Magazine when she heard a knock--one that only she seemed to hear. Tossing her reading material to the floor, she walked from the living room to the front door, leaning up to look through the peephole.

Two officers, both white, looking very cold. Tilting her head curiously, she opened the door as the warm summer air hit her body. A brisk, balmy breeze blew her beaded hair, a feeling of nausea washed over her.

Shanice’s gaze diverts from their path with a small voice she replies, “What’s up, Officer?”

“Hey, Sweetheart. Do you know William Hanlon?”

“Yeah, that’s my Daddy. What’s this about?”

Something wasn’t right.

She could feel it.

She didn’t answer but her eyes darted to her parents who were laughing and smiling. When she doesn’t say anything, the officers glance over her shoulder at the cheery couple.

“If you stand there and stall you for his protection, you’ll be obstructing justice, young lady.”

“What, you can’t--”

She feels her body shoved out of view as the men rushed into their small two-room apartment. She could feel her mother yelling and her father suddenly burst into a rage. The sound of rushing blood flooded her ears, her wide, dark eyes glued on her father’s figure.

Chaos, pure chaos.

The memory she had of her father was nothing but a mask, a cover-up to who he was outside of their safe apartment.

Everything is a lie, nothing but lies!

“I ain’t goin’ to jail--that, that thing told me to do it. I ain't no murderer!” Tears started to stream down her cheek as--she wanted to holler, but she couldn’t utter a word or a sound.

“William!”

“William stop it, put down that gun!” Her mother runs over trying to wrestle the gun out of her father’s hands, which eventually goes off and causes a stillness to go over the room.

Her mother’s body fell first, her eyes wide and petrified. Her breaths were shallow-- her body twitched as she bled out on the floor. She seemed to mumble something, something Shanice couldn’t make out.

Then, she was gone just like that.

It was surreal, phantasmal to her eyes.

“Sir put down the weapon.” As the officers urged him to stop, her father just stood there with a smile on his face.

“Ain’t no way I’m goin’ down without my Baby Girl." His arms stretched out, he calls out to her.

"Shanice, Baby girl. Come on to Daddy, everything’s gonna be okay. We're gonna be--” With her body trembling, the teenage girl rushes out the door in a sprint, screaming. As she dashes through her neighborhood, she flags down her brother on his way back down the street.

“Hey, Shay, what’s up? Why are there a bunch of cop cars out here? Why--Shay? Shay, what’s wrong?”

“Daddy he...he shot mom, h-he’s coming for us--we gotta run--”

A resonating gunshot fills their ears before Shanice could finish her sentence. She dropped to her knees, not caring about the harsh sting on the sidewalk.

When she saw the officers rush out, she knew one thing--her father was dead. Unknown if by himself or by an officer

He was dead.

When it was discovered that her father murdered twelve children during his twenties--and more that investigators speculate, whose bodies hadn’t been found. Missing children, that will never see their families again.

Shanice and her brother Mike were another set of victims that suffered due to his crimes.

A man died the day her father was arrested, not William Hanlon, the murderer, but the man she thought was her father along with her mother.

Moving to Derry from North Carolina was a lot for a fourteen-year-old who experienced the tragedy of seeing both of her parents and a thirteen-year-old who feels he should’ve been there.

It was a place they'd spent their early years at, it is held with some sort of nostalgia.

After climbing herself into the bed of her grandfather's truck, Shanice peered over at her brother with a small smile.

“It’s gonna be okay Mike--alright?” The young boy nods--Shanice wonders if she said the words only to comfort Mike or herself. After a month of being in state custody, being petrified and scarred was the least of her worries.

She was afraid. She hated that part of her, the part that made her human.

Being afraid is time-consuming; being afraid gives way to cowardice. Being afraid stopped her from being by her mother’s side, being afraid stopped her from confronting her father.

Moreover, she’d be the one to look after Mike when her grandfather eventually dies too.

Shanice was wearing jean shorts and a white, polo shirt, indicative of the springtime, transitioning summertime heat. She hangs her head between her legs, the heaviness of her braids connected with her heart. Feeling emotional exhaustion, she curls up and forces herself to sleep on the bed of the hot truck bed.

For the first time in a long time, she didn’t have a dream or a nightmare. What wakes her up is the sharp jerk of her grandfather’s truck and she finds him grinning a toothy grin at her.

“Alright Baby Girl, we’re here!”

A farmhouse, one she remembered playing in as a kid. Chasing around pigs and playing in the creek--she’d be happier to be there if it wasn’t for the circumstances. She quietly descends from the back of the truck, taking the bulk of their things. Her brother was as her grandfather described as ‘soft’ and the aforementioned man was already in his sixties, worn down from working diligently for years--she felt it was more than necessary.

“You shouldn’t  be carrying all those things, let Granddad take it.” Shanice waves off her grandfather’s helping hand.

“It’s cool, Texas built me well. I’ve got it.”

“Go on now. Pull it.”

“I don’t want to do this.”

“People need to eat.”

“But how would you feel? Raised for food...” Shanice, who was drinking a glass of Kool-Aid watched as her grandfather attempted to teach her brother how--slaughter a sheep. She frowned. Her brother was such a sweet boy, couldn’t harm a fly even if he was forced to--and this was the exact opposite of the Patriarch.

“Like I’d want you to get it over with is how I’d feel... Remember what I told you? You gotta do this quick. If the animal senses what you’re about to do, if it starts to fear you, adrenaline courses through its body and changes the taste and the meat winds up tough.” Drinking the rest of the red liquid, Shanice sets her glass down and makes her way over to the barn.

“Granddaddy, forcing him ain’t gonna do you no good.”

“Babying the boy ain’t gonna do you no good.” He then turns to the machine and without an inkling of hesitation pulling the trigger, killing the sheep it was aiming for.

“You need to start taking more responsibility around here, Mike. Your Dad was younger than you when he took this over--”

“But what if I can’t? What if I don’t want to do this, be here.” His words made Shanice frown--Watching silently as their grandfather spoke on.

“Look at me--you too Baby Girl.” The old man points to the sheep lined up to be slaughtered--quietly, patiently.

Waiting to be consumed.

“Let me y’all about being here. ‘Cuz you two need to understand something. There are two places you can be in this world. You can be out here, like us. Or you can be in there, like those eager bastards right there”

He continues with, “And if you waste too much time hemming and hawing, that choice is gonna be made for you. ‘Cept you won’t know it 'til you feel the bolt blast right between your eyes.” Shanice blankly stares at him, unaffected by the words while her brother trembles in fear.

“Ok, ok. Here." She hands then both sandwiches wrapped in saran wrap.

"A cheese sandwich on wheat bread for Mike and a Ham sandwich on rye for you, Granddaddy.”

....

....

‘ Van Gogh, and Rembrandt, don't be uptight, cause here comes KID DYNOMITE. ’

While the two men in her life sitting in the living room watching the Good Times , Shanice looks outside, at the forest outlining their house.

She didn’t hate Derry but something about Derry left her feeling like there was something outlining--maybe she thought too much.

A few weeks passed, today was Shanice’s last day of class. Mike remained home, homeschooled by their Granddaddy who said, "The boy needs to learn about the land."

Her baby’s face contorted, yet she doesn’t follow up his answer with another question.

Finishing off her bowl of cereal, her brother appears from his room.

“Remember to do that test so we wrap stuff off it mail it off, ok? I'll see you when I get home.” Shanice mutters to her little brother, giving him a tight hug.

“Ride safe--don’t speak to strangers.” Shanice blinks at her grandfather who has her blocked from leaving the driveway. It’s been a minute since they moved to Derry, but he still went over the same Spiel to her every morning.

“Granddaddy I’m already fourteen, you know?" Shanice groans, feeling as if she was practically ancient at that age, "You’ve been saying that since we got here.”

“And? You’re prey to anything out there.” Shanice rolls her eyes, beginning to ride away.

“I’ll keep that in mind!”

Shanice arrived at the school--preteens, teenagers fill the entrance like crowded in herds like those doomed sheep at the farm. She gripped her backpack, it being empty--her knowing it was the last day and that she wouldn't bother trying to stay in class.

Watching students dispersing in to clear out their lockers, walking, she overhears a group of boys talking.

“How’s it work?”

“They slice part of his penis off.”

“That can’t be true. He’d have nothing left...”

She grimaces.

Boys discussing circumcision.

Nice.

Shaking her head, she gets to the girl’s bathroom, where she planned to attempt to wait until the bell rung.

She pauses when she hears a commotion coming from the lockers around the corner.

“...I think I can handle this.”

There’s a bang as if something or someone slammed against it followed by mocking laughter.

“Sure know how to spread ‘em, slut!”

Her face tenses up. She quickly debates whether or not to get herself involved-- resigning to help the girl. She slams open the door she's cooped up, letting her presence known. At her reveal, the girls stiffen--one, in particular, stood with a hockey stick in her hand. Her eyes glance at another girl, a redhead who seemed to be shaking. Her pale knees were bruised, purple, and blue.

She glares at the girls, who quickly leave, like a gaggle of hens.

“Hey, you okay?”

When the girl nods, Shanice lets out a sigh of relief.

The last thing she could make out on the girl was her fiery hair as she ran off in the opposite direction, making her way to her destination.

It’s around four by the time Shanice leaves school. After picking up Mike and dropping off his test materials at the post office--she calls her grandfather at a payphone in advance that they’d be a little late.

Stopping and parking the car on the side of the street, there’s a woman frantically stapling a poster to a  light post. It was a missing child flyer for a kid named Dorsey Corcoran. Right beside it is a sign that says, ‘REMEMBER THE CURFEW, 7 P.M.’

She spots the two siblings running over to hand the older of the two.

"Please tell me if you've seen my son. Please."

Both of the siblings stare at her retreating figure in silent sympathy, heading into the grocery store after a beat.

It was such a sign of fleeting hope.

“What’s up?” He asks her brother as they make their way through the small grocery store. He seemed to be off in his thoughts, so she felt like something was wrong. Ever since the accident, he’d gotten quieter, and quieter.

It was concerning.

The boy looks the other way and mutters, “Nothing.” and she drops it, for now.

Riding home, she glances over at her brother.

“Try to put up with Granddaddy this summer, ok?” ‘We’re the only people he has left.’ She wanted to add but decided against it.

He nods and she adds, “I’ll do the farm work too.”

His face brightens up and it cheers her up as well.

The next day, Shanice decides to look for work and to drop off meat at the Butcher’s with Mike after he insisted on going--probably because he didn’t feel comfortable alone with their grandfather.

After finishing those duties they head out on her bike, Shanice has a feeling she can’t shake.

The feel of being followed.

“I think someone’s following us.” She could feel her brother’s confused expression through his voice.

“Who?” He turns around. She sees some sort of sports car--it starts honking at them, not letting off. It starts to increase in speed, edging on them as if to swallow them whole. Her brother frantically goes faster and faster until they manage to crash into a tree.

Laughter and mischievous hollering emerge from the car, as well as a taunt.

“Stay the fuck out of my town!”

“Hey! What the fuck is wrong with y'all?” Shanice yells at the car as it flies away, helping her brother to his feet. She looks at themselves--he wasn't hurt too bad, neither was she.

The real damage was her bike--it mangled beyond recognition.

“Let’s just carry this thing to the house, Mike.” She says, turning to her brother, who seems to be locked in a trance by something.

“Mike?”

“Huh?”

She frowns.

“Let’s go home.”

....

....

The two get home, both weathered and tired. Leroy spots them and smiles at them like an old, amused tabby.

“Long day, you two?” The two siblings stay quiet, sitting at the dining table in mutual silence.

“Something happened while y’all two were out on collections?”

He pauses as if he knew the answer once the question flew from his mouth and onto the cold, wooden table. Shanice’s and Mike’s eyes dart from each other to the elderly man.

“Saw Baby Girl’s bike. Y’all have a run-in with the Bowers boy?” Mike gazes at his grandfather, then nods.

“Yeah.”

“That’s it? Hmmm, thought it was something else...”

“Something else like what?” His words catch Shanice’s attention.

“Dunno. Y’all tell me.” Shanice holds his gaze, clearly unhappy that he might be hiding something from her, but doesn’t question further--hell, she wouldn’t even know where to start if anything. Instead, she elaborates on the whole Bowers interaction.

“He mangled up my bike and almost killed us with his car--he’s a total psychopath."

“Is that why do we live outside of town? Is it because of the Bowers?” Mike follows up, with questions of his own.

'Stay the fuck of out of my town!’ His words echo through her head, her hand makes fists. Licking her she asks,

"Granddaddy, are we outsiders?"

“No. We live out here because I want the best for my grandchildren." He says to his grandson, patting his shoulder before sighing at his granddaughter. "We're not outsiders. See, it’s not just the Bowers that ain’t right. It’s that whole town that’s wrong...”

Silence once again overtakes the three.

Inching, aching, catching them by the throat.

“Do y’all know what a haunt is?”

An unknown fear.

....

....

Shanice had dreamed later that night. It was seven years ago.

She still had her family together.

She was at a grocery store, with her mother, their hands clasped--her mother was glowing, her toothy smile made her so happy she was speechless.

As she reached out to hold her mother, everything disappeared around her--her mother glanced at her with crimson hands. She wore horror on her round face, her hands trembling, shaking with fright.

Her mother looks at her.

“My baby, why didn’t you save me?”

Then, she smiles. Her grin wide, unsettling--yet, it drew her in.

The false sense of comfort that caressed her, that infantile warmth.

Shanice, grounded, shakes her head.

“Mama I--” Her mother holds her face in her hands--dirty metal and aging rust fill Shanice’s senses, and she closes her eyes.

“Mama, I’m so sorry. I was so scared.” Her mother laughed, bringing Shanice's head to her chest--the smell of Swisher Sweets, the ones her Mama used to smoke, calmed her down--she breathes in, wailing as she stroked her hair.

"There ain't no reason to be scared."

Shanice weeps, now alone with nothing but a bright, red balloon in her mother’s place--yet, her voice is still heard light, her soft giggle giddy.

"Eventually, we all float, baby."

....

....  

There was something strange about Derry that Shanice couldn’t quite put her finger on. As she stood in the kitchen, frying eggs and stirring a pot of grits, she felt complex. She couldn’t sleep, the bags under her eyes were evidence of that. On top of everything, her monthly friend came around to give her terrible cramps. She’d be good for a day or before the red flood starts, but probably be better off She tries to get stuff off her mind by turning on her off-white boombox, with a New Edition song playing.

Mike appears. He looks as weathered as her.

“Hey, Mikey.” She finds herself calling him what she did when they were much younger. When everything had a sense of normality.

Shanice gives him a quick hug, planting a quick kiss on top of his head.

“You look like shit.”

“...you do too, Shay.” She shakes her head, tittering as a distant rooster sounds off.

“Imma go to the pharmacy--wanna come?”

When Mike shakes his head, she makes her way upstairs to change and go out. Her beaded, braided hair clinking and shaking as she looked around. settling on a pair of black shorts and a white t-shirt. After lacing up her red converses, she waves her brother goodbye with a gap-toothed smile.

She takes the long walk into town.

When she makes it to Keene’s Pharmacy, she’s sweating, a bit fatigued. She notices a familiar head of ginger hair and notices the girl she’d seen while working at the school looking at a shelf of tampons and pads like it was a guillotine.

“Hey.” She looks startled, turning her sight at the small yet imposing girl. She's short than her--her dark eyes are big, deep-set--her grin makes her seem approachable, her head cocked to the side with her hands in her pockets.

"Thanks, I'm Bev."

“Shanice. Periods, they suck right? You look a little overwhelmed. Your Mama never told you about them?” At the mention of a mother, the girl shifts in a pretty floral dress.

“My...my mom’s not here anymore.”

She gives her a small, toothy smile.

“Mine isn't either. Good thing she taught me about that stuff. You’re looking at a five-year veteran.” She watches the girl’s face pale.

“Five years...” The girl trails off, before looking and hiding behind Shanice. Shanice looks in the direction that she glances at and recognizes the girl’s voice--the girl from the bathroom. She finds a haughty-looking chewing gum quiet-loud before she explains, “Watch it, losers!” at a group of boys who pass her and her way out.

Glancing around the girl trembling behind her, with her voice dropped down to a whisper she asks, “Was that one of the girls from the bathroom”

She nods, only sighing relief when she realizes she’s gone.

“Are you ok?”

“Uh...I’m fine. So...when did you get it?”

Shanice gives her a confused look.

“Oh, the thing. Nine.”

“Really? I didn’t know people got it that early, that's gotta suck.”

They continue to talk until she notices the girl glance at the boys coming in. They’re all chattering, inspecting each other's monetary means.

An older man stares at them sharply--then, locks eyes with Shanice before grumbling.

Shanice finds some products with good absorption levels, the group of boys staring at her with curiosity.

“Who are you?” Shanice smiles at Richie who seems to size her up.

"The name's Shanice. SHA-Niece. You can call me Shay." she says with emphasis, adding. "My family used to live here, before...”

“I’m Richie, that’s Bill, Stan, Eddie, Ben--and she’s--”

"Bev, I know. We met earlier."

The teenager nods, looking over as the aforementioned girl knocks down a cigarette display--the next thing she knows they’ve run out of the pharmacy, like bandits. Shanice finds herself following them into an alleyway, where Ben is being patched up due to a gnarly injury.

"W-We're going the quarry, wanna come?" She looks over at Bill, who asks the question to Beverly, but sheepishly looks back at her

“Y-you should come too.”

Beverly smiles.

“Sure. See you around.” The two girls walk out of the alleyway, into the main street.

“Want me to walk you home?” Beverly looked at her with a flash of concern before nodding.

“Where do you live?” A breeze past them as they walk--as they stroll deeper, houses become noticeably different. A lot of them are older, abandoned, or hadn't been repairs in years.

It's a run-down area, neglected by the rest of the town.

“The outskirts.” She frowns.

“Why?”

“Dunno. The people in the town think my Granddaddy’s strange--but you know what I think? This weird town is mistaking who and what is really strange.”

....

....

The teenagers make it out to the quarry the next day. Shanice finds Beverly standing off to the side, now sporting a bob.

“New Haircut?” Bev, hearing her voice putting her hand to her hair absentmindedly.

“Yeah.”

“It suits you, I think it’s cool. You look a lot like Molly Ringwald.”

The boys, who have stripped to their underwear, are contemplating who should jump first.

“Who’s first?” Bill inquiries.

“Eddie?” The fourteen-year-old rebuttals, “Screw that.”

Shanice and Bev who stand off the shadow look at each other.

“They’re a gang of wusses.” Shanice stifles her laughter, before doubling over.

“Right? Inviting us over and acting like a bunch of wusses!” For a moment, silence befalls the girls, only the boy’s chatter can be heard--then, Beverly gives the girl a look, a wild one, dripping with adrenaline.

“Hey, wanna jump?”

Shanice grins.

“Why not?”

The two quickly discard their clothing--a pair of denim overalls and plain summer dress--before bolting as fast as their legs could muster, their hands clasped, jumping into the murky waters below.

After a while, everyone is out of the water, resting on rocks while Shanice finds solace in the sort of cool temperature of the water. On Richie’s boombox, a song, one that made her bob her head slightly, she finds herself singing along in a small voice,

“I’m alive, huh, huh, so alive...”

Her body goes deeper, the sound of the music becomes muted. She felt like she was being tugged, something was her pulling away--when she realizes, it's too late. She's seized, water begins filing her mouth, nose, the sight of a balloon rising above her field of underwater vision--Shanice wakes up, coughing up violently.

Her body’s laid flat out on a scalding rock, all around her are the teenagers, still soaking wet in their undergarments. Dread overcomes, her throat burns as if it’s been choked--the Stan looks over at her concerned, his curly hair puffy, tangled like a bird’s nest.

His cheeks are flushed--he looks frazzled if anything.

“What the fuck...” She mutters before coughing up more water.

“Are you ok?”--Stan asks, his face inches away from hers--they lock eyes for a moment before he looks away, even more flustered--the chain event leaves her puzzled as she tries to catch her breath.

“Not bad for almost dying,” She jokes, sitting up. Her head feels heavy as she’s coughing up more water, taking a few breathes before sighing in relief.

“Did you guys drag me out?”

"Nope, Stan the Man dived in when he saw you were gone." Richie quips--Shanice gives Stan a jovial smile.

After she pulls away and walks over to her backpack to pull out her bottled water.

“So? Aren’t we gonna talk about how Stan slobbered all over her li--” Shanice stops and looks over Richie with a raised brow.

“What?”

“Nothing--it’s nothing,” Richie says, drawing his attention to something else--with that something else being Ben’s backpack. Shuffle through it, he pulls out books--lots of them.

“You went to the library? On your own? For fun?”

“Oh, uh, when I moved here I didn’t have anyone to hang out with or anything, so I just started spending time in the library.” Shanice grins while Richie frowns.

“Seriously? You went to the library? On your own? For fun?”

“He's 'cultured' or whatever,” Shanice notes, shaking her drenched hair before continuing, “girls like that kinda stuff sometimes.” She gestures to him inches in for a better look at the copies of newspaper stories Ben had gathered.

“Derry’s not like any town I moved to. And we’ve moved a lot. Did you guys know people die violently here or disappear like six times the national average?” Ben states, gaining the wide eyes of the teens in the process.

“That’s just adults. Kids are worse. Way worse.”

“You know, my granddaddy said that.” The group's eyes glance at their oldest, with morbidly curious stares.

“Said what?” Beverly asks--Shanice reminds her of what they talked about on the way to her house.

“Like I said yesterday ...that this whole town’s wrong. He’s been here for a while. Seen things, probably.”

A unanimous shiver occurs.

“I’ve got more stuff if you wanna see it...at home.”

Shanice could call his room one thing. Messy--indicative of a boy. Covering every inch of his bedroom walls were more newspaper clippings--some dating back a whole century.

“This is pretty impressive,” Shanice croons, amazed, sipping on her bottle of water.

“Cool, huh?” Ben replies.

“No!” Richie yells with immediate denial.

Bill's off in a corner, looking at an ‘ancient’ paper--as Shanice looks closer, she sees it says ‘INCORPORATION OF THE TOWNSHIP OF DERRY’.

“What’s this, Ben?

“The charter for Derry Township--it’s kind of interesting, actually. Derry started as a beaver trapping camp.”

“Still is. Am I right, boys?” Everyone looks at Richie who grins--it’s quiet until Shanice retorts with a snort “That joke is almost as funny drying paint.” Beverly shakes her head, hiding her smile while everyone has a good laugh at his expense.

“So it’s a record of them coming over here--what makes it so special.” Ben raises his eyebrows, almost relieved the conversation managed to get back to its original point.

“Ninety-one people signed the charter that made Derry. But then, later that winter, they all disappeared, without a trace.”

Everyone stops--the only sound that could be heard was the breeze from out the house. Ninety-one people--gone, just like that. In Shanice’s head, possibilities run. Diseases? Famine? Sure, that can happen--but everyone--every last, single person?

Eddie looks particularly spooked by the information, cautiously asking “The entire camp?”

“There were rumors of Indians but no sign of an attack. Others thought it was a plague or something. It was like everyone just woke up one day and left. The only clue was a big hole in the ground where the wellhouse was.”

“Jesus, we could get Derry on unsolved mysteries!” Ignoring Richie’s quip, Bill asks “Wh-where was the wellhouse?”

“Somewhere in town, I guess...”

“What’s the point of all this? What are you gonna do with it?” Stan asks--Shanice herself wondered it too.

Truthfully, he shrugs, saying “Dunno. Just killing time I guess.”

....

....

“Can you do the deliveries by yourself today?” Shanice asks her brother, she stood beside the bathroom, brushing her teeth. The teenager gives her a glance, then nods his head. She smiles, taking her tired body back to the room, quickly slipping on her white summer dress and her sneakers--making her way down the stairs, stops her in her tracks at the sound of her grandfather's weary voice.

“Baby Girl?”

“Yeah, Grandaddy?”

“Be safe.” Shanice looks at him, before pecking his cheeks, hugging him tightly.

“Ok, I love you.”

“Love you too, Shanice.”

Later on that day, Shanice finds herself going about absent-mindedly. She had nightmares again--so many more since she moved to Derry--since everything happened.

There was a common theme with her nightmares--the inclusion of a red balloon--but what did it mean?

She follows until he finds herself in the neighborhood where Bev lived, when--she notices the whole group gathers on the sidewalk, in front of her place.

“Hey...what’s going on?”

“Bev called. She’s freaked out about something... Sh-sh-she told us to wait out here until--”

A door bursts open--it’s Beverly, out of breath, spooked.

“You made it. I need to show you guys something...Shanice you--”

“Uh, hey. I ran into the guys while I was out. What’s up?”

Ben follows her question with, “Yeah, what is it?”

“Did we just win the Publisher's Clearinghouse ten million dollar sweepstakes? If Ed McMahon is in there I’m going to lose my sh--” Shanice glances before giving him a sharp punch in the arm.

“Read the room, Richie!”

“I just need to know I’m not crazy. But my Dad will kill me if he finds out I had you guys over.”

“We’ll leave a lookout. Richie?” Bill says as he looks at the teen who’s still rubbing his arm.

“Yeah, whatever. Ed McMahon can wait...”

Shanice gives him a look before they head inside her house. The light shines through the desolate feeling house as they follow her--farther into the house--until she stops in front of a door.

“In there,” Beverly says, her voice a fine to a whisper. Stan, who was beside Shanice asks, “What are we about to walk into?”

“You’ll see.” She doesn’t open the door--she seems rooted in her place--instead, it’s Bill who opens the door with her and Eddie following after --and the smell hits Shanice like a slap to the face. Her eyes were wide, visibly shaken. She doubles back until her back is against the wall and she falls on her bottom.

“You see it?” Beverly asks Bill.

“What happened?”

“The sink. It came out from there. My Dad couldn’t see it. I thought I was going crazy...” Shanice looks over at Bill, breathing heavily.

“You’re not going crazy. I saw something too. I-I, I saw Georgie.”

“Like a ghost?” Eddie asks, trying to avoid looking into the room again.

“N-no. He tried to get me to go into the basement with him. It wasn’t just him either. I saw this other... I don’t know."

“What’d you see, Bill?” Stan presses,

“The Clown?”

“And red balloons?” Shanice says immediately after Eddie, loud enough for everyone to hear. Bill doesn’t have a thing to say, only his silence the answer. They both shake, Shanice is trying to keep calm, while Eddie full-on freaks out.

“Are you two okay?” Beverly asks, concerned.

“Go outside. Keep Richie company, okay?” Eddie nods, Shanice shakes her head.

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

“I am. Look, let’s just focus on cleaning this blood up.”

“R-Right, we can’t leave it like this.”

....

....

Cleaning--cleaning, cleaning, covered in blood.

Bill, Ben, Beverly, Stan, and Shanice spent time cleaning the bathroom, full of blood only they could see. Stan crouches next to her and asks, “Are you really, ok?” the sixteen-year-old glances over him, continuing to clean.

“I’m ok, I said before. I’m just...tired. This town makes me tired.”

Soon after they’re finished and exit the building, going down to Kansas Street.

“All that blood at your place and you s-say your folks didn’t see any of it... Last night at my house, with Georgie and the water, my Dad just acted like everything was normal--I think if you’re a grown-up...” Bill trails off, looking off into the distance.

“They can’t see it.” Eddie chimes in, which in turn Richie questions: “Can’t see what?”

“It.” Beverly answers.

“That’s why the cops won’t help, our parents, teachers...”

The group of kids stops, while Shanice continues to walk until she sees it--her brother’s mangled bike in a bush.

“...that’s my brother’s bike.” She looks over at Bill, her face in a deep frown, rage bubbling in her chest.

"It’s..it's that Bowers guy again, that’s why y'all stopped, right?”

“We have to help him,” Beverly says, seeing Shanice runoff, already in hot pursuit of her brother and the gang of high-schoolers.

“We do?” Richie snorts, watching the same, to which Bill replies, “If we don’t, who will? That could be any one of us.”

Shanice runs and runs, only stopping when she’s greeted by the sight of her brother's face being shoved in the same meat they deliver every week.

“Hey, you fuck faces!” Shanice yells, her voice being drowned out by their laughter and tithers, she meets her brother's eyes as he tries to crawl to her--only yanked back by the boys crowding him. He’s the ground, one of their sneakers dig into the boy’s skull, then--

CRACK!

A rather large rock first hits one of the boys, straight in the face, leaving blood gushing from his face. The assailant is Shanice, who's backup came in the form of Beverly, Bill, Richie, Eddie, and Stan.

“Holy shit!” Richie exclaimed, staring at the girl who was still throwing blows.

“Nice throw.” Stan compliments, although the armed girl hadn’t heard him--she was busy trying to save her brother.

Seeing the bullies distracted, she hurriedly yelled, “Mike, run!”

The boy scrambles to his feet, into the arms of his sister, who squeezes him tight.

The two siblings seemed to have reunited, beside them was an all-out rock war.

Rocks fly in the air, everyone ducks, hoping not to get hit by the hail of fire. When they realize they’ve been outmanned, Bill, their unassigned leader, screams for them to run.

“Mike, get on my back.”

“But--”

“I said get on my back, come on!"

They race until they find themselves back on a residential street. Everyone’s catching their breaths, tired from the sudden encounter.

Mike looks at the teenager whilst standing beside his sister relenting, “Thanks but you shouldn’t have done that. He’ll be after you guys now too.”

“Bowers? He’s always after us.” Eddie says and the rest shrugs in reply.

“I-I guess that’s one thing we all have in common,” Bill remarks, almost with a bit of sarcasm, while Richie full-on deadpans.

“Yeah, welcome to the Losers Club.”

....

....

“I was thinking about It. Ironworks explosion in 1904. Bradley Gang in ‘32. The Black Spot in ‘59. And now with Georgie, Dorsey, and the rest--it seems like this bad stuff happens nearly every thirty years.”

Time’s passed, and the fourth of July is right around the corner--the town of Derry takes things quite seriously--patriotic imagery scattered everywhere, vendors selling brightly labeled fireworks. Her grandfather would probably be out at the farmhouse on the outskirts, burning meat while they celebrated in their own way.

The self-proclaimed, ‘Losers Club’ members sit near the Paul Bunyan statue in the central square. Stan rests his head on her shoulder, listening to Ben’s Ominous rambling with her. Her brother on the other side with a complicated expression, sunglasses perched on her head through her bushy hair.

Stan raises his head from its place with uncertain eyes trained on Ben.

“So what, this town is cursed?”

“That’s what my grandfather thinks...”

Stan questions and Mike answers--Shanice glances at Stan, thinking back to her grandfather’s choice words for the Town.

She glances at the rest of the ‘Losers’, raising the question, “Y’all know what a haunt is?” her voice is soft, childish but it gathers the group’s attention.

“You mean like in a ‘who-ya-gonna-call’ sense?” Shanice shifts her eyes to Richie, shaking her head.

“Nah, not like that. Haunt can also mean like a feeding ground for animals--or for something else. My grandfather told me he thinks all the bad things that happen in this town are caused by one thing. An evil thing, that feeds off the people of Derry--one that fed off of him.”

Feeling all eyes on her and Mike, urging her to continue.

“After that run-in with Bower’s gang--”

--Mike and Shanice make it home, black and blue.

The two siblings look as if they’d been run through the wringer--or under the siege of rocks and boot soles.

Their Grandfather, who was sitting in the living, itching to chew them out stops and rushes over to them after seeing Mike’s bruises.

“What in God’s name--”

“--it’s Bowers, again,” Shanice mutters, spitting out the name without reluctance.

Sighing, her grandfather states, “...at least you two came home in one piece. That’s all I care for at the moment.”

She nods, heading to the kitchen for a glass of lemonade while Mike quietly sits at the table. Her grandfather takes off his farming gloves, taking a seat next to his grandson.

“Aside from that, Granddaddy, you’ve lived here for a while, right?” Shanice asks, after a beat of silence, handing him a drink after she’d already poured her.

After another beat, he answers before downing the drink in his hands, “About my whole life.”

The siblings, Mike now taking a bit more confidence, “Granddaddy, have you seen the clown?”

He pauses but lets out an uncharacteristically jovial laugh.

“What clown are you talking about, boy?”

Mike glances at his sister, Shanice before nudging her.

“Granddaddy, we wanna know if you know ‘It’?”

The glass in his hand had fallen to the ground, shattering--the sound made Shanice flinches, unknowingly, goosebumps litter her skin. The Hanlon Patriarch sits, shaking a bit--Shanice quickly looks to see if he’s ok but stops after seeing his face. He shook, he looked, spooked--haunted, repulsed at the very mention of ‘ It ’.

“Now y’all listen to me and listen to me good. There’s a reason why I tell y’all this town is strange.” As the three of them sat down at the dining table their grandfather lifted his pants leg to reveal—a wooden leg. It was smooth, oak-toned, and worn down by time. As he silently lets his pants leg, his voice begins to tremble, deep and strained.

“Sixty-six years ago, I lost my leg to It. I was only a boy, a year younger than Baby Girl.”

The children clutch either, Shanice holds Mike close as they both sat in shock.

“He was right. It--It is somethin’ evil.” Shanice finally whispers, her eyes narrow, like slits to a dark abyss. The mood chills amongst the teenagers when they realize they’re dealing with big--that seemed to be after kids.

....

....

The teens sit in the Monument, they glanced at her with startled eyes.

“But It can’t be one thing. We’re all seeing something different...”

“Yeah, but I think that’s because It uses our worst fears to scare us...”

Bill begins to speculate, “I guess that’s why I’m seeing Georgie.” Eddie follows him by saying, “I saw a walking infection. What’d about you, Richie? What are you afraid of?”

Richie frowns.

“Clowns.”

....

....

Shanice yawns.

It was a Thursday, ten in the morning.

‘The Losers Club’ sat in Denbrough's garage. Facing Shanice is a map of the sewers, projected on the wall in front of her and the rest of the ‘Losers’. The lights illuminate the room, almost as if they were telling ghost stories under a flashlight. Bill looks over to Ben, questioning if he brought ‘the map’; that map being an old map to Derry.

“Look.” Bill addresses the rest of the group, “Th-there’s the Ironworks. There’s the B-black Spot. Everywhere It happened to be is all c-connected by the sewers and they all meet up at.”

“The wheelhouse,” Ben notes.

“It’s in the house on Neibolt street.” Shanice furrows in curiosity her brows at Eddie’s words.

“Neibolt Street?”

“You mean that creepy-ass house where all the junkies and hobos like to sleep?”

“I hate that place.” Beverly says with a frown, adding, “It always feels like it’s watching you.”

“That’s where It lives,” Bill murmurs, staring at the image projection, until--Eddie, wheezing, rips the map clean off the wall.

“Can we stop talking about this? This is summer -- we’re kids -- we’re supposed to be--” He says through pants with Richie gets up abruptly adding, “I agree with Eds.”

“No...put the map back, Eddie--”

Suddenly, the light isn’t shining against the wall, nor is projecting the map of Derry either--instead, it shines bright in Eddie’s face, like a truck's headlights with Eddie mirror the look of a Deer caught in them.

“What happened?” Bill begins to get up from his seat when he stops to stare at the image projected.

It’s vacation photos, showing a happy family. Shanice recognizes Bill in it, smiling, in what seems like hiking clothes. Beside him is a boy that looks about 70% similar to him--a lot like him, but not entirely. She could only guess it was Georgie, Bill’s younger brother that died.

The projector keeps going.

Next photo there’s one of the family swimming--then, the boy--Georgie is standing at the edge of the lake. When Shanice is morbidly expecting it to switch to another photo, it doesn’t.

It shows the same picture, of the same boy--again, and again, and again.

But, there’s something different--it was as if the boy was moving, like a video. And slowly, Georgie turns his face to view his audience--them--with his face is painted with terror.

“Georgie?” Bill implores, almost in a whisper as Richie mutters, probably to himself, “What the fuck?”

“Somebody, turn this shit off,” Shanice begs, her voice shaking as she locks eyes with the child. He begins to run to the camera as if to leap out to them. Tears run down her face, she feels rooted in her place.

She can’t move, she’s paralyzed with fear.

“I SAID TURN IT OFF!” Again, everyone is fixated on the projection--he looks as if he wants to plead for help--moving his mouth rapidly--but he can’t; there’s no sound.

Stan runs to unplug the machine--it doesn’t do anything--it was like it was being controlled by some sort of specter; a supernatural force. It's presence lights up the dark garage, illuminating with a forthright glow incandesce in combination with the flickering photos.

“Georgie!” Bill screams.

Almost immediately, Georgie ran out of the frame.

Then, what the boy seemed to have been running from appears.

A clown, standing in the water. A macabre figure off the shore, staring at the group of teenagers.

One with receding ginger hair, staring at them, the ‘Losers’ with the biggest smile on its face. Waving at them, holding an oddly familiar red balloon.

“It’s fucking looking at us. What the fuck.” Shanice mumbles her face still that of disbelief, not feeling Richie squeeze her arm.

“Holy shit...”

“That’s It. That’s him.” Stan declares, as if confirmation for their separate, yet united experiences. That the threat that terrorized the teens was real, and that it was out to get them--a vengeful spirit beyond their dreams and glimpses.

Its face grows more fluid, closer and closer--

When It appears right in front of the camera, contiguous and menacing.

Various high-pitched screams echo throughout the garage, the teenagers scattering farther from the wall--Mike runs up, kicking the projector off of its box-structured stand. Shanice follows her brother’s lead, as his action snaps her out of whatever hold It had on her--she grabs a baseball bat--a steel one leaning against the wall, grabbing it and smashing the vessel of their collective fear.

Over and over and over until there was nothing else projected.

Stan looks at Shanice, both amazed and terrified at the amount of strength shown in her short, stout body. Quickly, he seizes her arms, causing her to stop her movement--she stands, frozen, still holding the means of destruction in her hand. Her eyes have grown wide from shock. Teardrops still fell from her watery, dark eyes as she shook in the boy’s arms. Her throat felt raw, from her fright-filled vocalized pleads.

Her face the color of cool, raw umber--still plump from baby fat, emitting a dark russet-colored rogue flushed with dread.

She was shaken, and Stan in his own way attempted to comfort her. He, with as much compassion a thirteen-year-old could muster awkwardly pats her back before letting go.

He couldn’t help but question wearily, “How’d that even happen?”

Eddie, still scared, replies “It saw us. It knows who we are now.”

“It’s always known who we were, Eddie. That’s how It knows how to scare us.” Shanice says, panting.

“Yeah, it always did,” Bill agreed, his voice unusually rough and strained.

“--at least It’s gone now.”

Bev speaks, soft as a rushed whisper, “Uh, guys?” but no one’s paying attention.

They all were trying to process what they all just saw.

The Hanlon siblings stare at the smashed projector, then at each other--their expression complex as they ask, “Yeah, but for how long?”

“Guys?”

Silence befell them, only Bev’s voice remains.

“GUYS!”

Her abrupt scream got the group to turn their attention to her. They follow her eyes to the ceiling, where she’s gazing at something above. The smashed--almost obliterated projector, much wider the image that’s shown to them.

It.

Staring at them, with a hate-filled growl stirring from its throat. It’s fast at first, as instant as polaroid, then slow, as he was creeping up on them-- It’s white, gloved hand tick out as if to grasp Bev by her neck--Bill pulls her away, but Its arm seems to stretch, determined of Its target.

His hold tightens on Bev, with his resolve to not let It take her.

The room is suddenly flooded with sunlight--the garage door opens, with Ben ultimately being the one who deters It away from them. The image of It disappears, the two kids let out a sigh of relief.

For now.

“Yeah. Thanks, Ben, Bill. Good, uh thinking.”

Bill lets go of Bev, turning to the rest of them.

No one says anything. Everyone’s processing things, trying to process that what they saw was real. Richie looks particularly unresponsive--no snide remarks or quick jokes with god-awful punchlines. Just a pale face, his mouth open and aghast--the fact that his ultimate fear came to life clear as day.

“No jokes this time, Rich?” Stan’s question is as awkward as it sounds, in this kind of environment, but it cuts the tension, slowly.

“Not today Stan, please,” Shanice warns, watching Richie slowly shake his head.

Despite the summer sunshine, the mood in the room was heavy.

“Okay so...” Bill begins, making everyone look his way, “Let’s go.”

“Go? Where?” Ben, asking the question of everyone’s mind.

“Neibolt. That’s where Georgie is. We have to go--” Shanice cuts him off, still shaken by what she just saw.

“Are you shitting me, Bill? After what just happened? It’s real. It is going to fucking kill us!” Everyone nods, Stan mimicking her thoughts saying, “Shay’s right. After that? No. No way.”

“Yeah...I’m with them.” Richie says, still sounding small, defeated.

“Fine. Then don’t.”

Mike looks at his sister and Bill, shaking his head.

“Wait, Bill--”  

His words don’t reach him.

Bill hops on his bike, already getting ready to head to Neibolt.

“That thing took my brother. I’m going.”

The remaining ‘Losers’ watch as his figure gets smaller and smaller.

“He’s going to get himself killed,” Shanice says, biting her lips, not releasing the hold till she tastes the iron of her own blood. Letting out a scream of frustration, she tosses the bat she used to crush the projector to Beverly, grabbing her brother's hand.

“Mike, let’s go get this boy before gets himself hurt.” Mike nods his head and the siblings heading off on his bike.

Stan casts looks at their fleeing figure, and makes up his mind to go after them.

Beverly and the rest of the ‘Losers’ follow suit, leading the way to the Neibolt house--an old, terrifying house, completely alien to all the other residences on the street.

“Bill!” Beverly yells after she spots him in front of the house, Shanice follows with, “What the hell are you doing, a suicide mission? Come back before you or someone else gets hurt!”

“Look, I already said you don’t have to come in with me. But what happens when another Georgie goes missing? Or another Dorsey? Or one of us? Are you just going to pretend it isn’t happening like everyone else in this town?”

“You know can’t. But this thing is going to hunt us down. Your parents only have one child, are you gonna take that away from them?” Shanice says, her voice cracking a bit. Shanice was small, about the same height as Eddie. But, she seemed mature, like an adult talking their child down from doing something idiotic.

“Y-You don’t know how it is...” Bill swallows his tears before continuing, “I-I go home and all I see is that G-Georgie isn’t there. H-His clothes, his toys, his stupid stuffed animals--e-everything but Georgie.” He turns away from Shanice, closing his eyes before opening them again.

“So, walking into that house--for me, it’s easier than walking into my own.” Bill’s voice was even, his normal stutter gone--he was serious, like dead serious.

“Wow...”

“What?”

“He didn’t even stutter. Not once.” Shanice glares at Richie, her expression only softening while she watches him follow after Bill, despite his words. Taking the bat she’d tossed in the basket of Beverly's bike, so does she, then Mike.

“Didn’t you hear him? Why are you following him?” Stan asked, to which she frowns.

“We’re just kids, Stanley. I’m the oldest, and it doesn’t change the fact that I’m still one. Bill is too. We all are. We gotta team up if we don’t wanna die.”

Stan runs to her side, with reluctance clear on his face. His Adam's apple bobbled, his heart raced loudly.

“We should just turn around. Bill’s he’s braver than us--”

“Brave? Bill’s not brave. He’s just dumb, Derry-dumb--and my mama used to always say if you’re gonna be dumb, you gotta be tough.” She says, dragging her sneaker-bound feet as she went up the steps. Stan didn’t say a thing back, choosing to stand closer to her to calm his nerves.

“I ain't the sharpest knife in the drawer, I was taught enough to know that much.”

All of them, one by one--until every ‘Loser’s Club’ member was on the porch of the ‘29 Neibolt Street’.

Dark and eerie, that’s what Shanice described as the small opening of the house as she stood on the porch. As if he was reading her thoughts, Richie whispers, “I can’t see shit.”

She looks over at him, frowning as she watches him take a huff of Eddie’s inhaler.

“Tastes like battery acid.”

“Really, Richie? Is this this time to swab spit with the remains of Eddie’s inhaler?”

“What no I wasn’t. That gros--”

Shanice rolls her eyes, snatching the inhaler back and tossing it to Eddie.

Just as he goes to open a door, she stops when a thought occurs to her.

“Wait,” She says, holding up the bat she’d snagged from his garage, “If we’re trying to go in there, everybody needs something to defend themselves with. Even Batman can’t fight bad guys without something.”

Everyone scatters, looking for anything to use as a weapon

For instance, Mike at his sister’s word, goes for an old, rusted wrench, holding it with a tight grip.

Shanice hears something shatter--turning around looking back at the yard, she sees Richie with a dumbstruck expression as she looks at the beer bottle he just shattered, perhaps hoping to be like those action stars whose scenes involve bar fights.

She blinks before shaking her head.

‘Idiot. ’

His eyes locked with her gaze and he quickly rushed up behind her.

“I’ll just stand behind you.”

After some time, the group of teens fully reunite with their various choices of defensive means. Shanice jerks her head in the direction of the underworld-like entrance saying to Bill, “Now, or never.”

Slowly, but surely, the vengeful boy opens the door.

....

....

A dump.

The Neibolt house was an absolute fucking dump.

Trash everywhere, graffiti covering the walls--magazines, newspapers what have you, stacked and towering at every corner like a hoarder’s paradise.

“This is some kinda hell...” Shanice says, her frown seemed to deepen as she took in her surroundings and the smell that came with it.

“This place stinks. I can smell it.” Beverly remarks, disgust in her voice.

“I smell it too.” Her brother agrees--Richie pinches his nose, warning “Don’t breathe through your mouth. It’s like eating shit.”

Shanice punches him in the arm.

“You fucking tell me AFTER I’ve already got the taste on my tongue!”

They continue to journey through the abandoned house, passing different gross and odd things. Bev finds a lantern, surprisingly which aids in their sight.

“If there’s a well here it’d have to be in the basement, right?” Ben says. Stan gives him a look, looking mortified to even be in a house this filthy. Shanice nudges him before taking his hand with the one not occupied with her stolen means of protection, giving a small smile.

“Come on, I’ll protect you from this big, stinking house.” He smiles at her, still distressed by the way he squeezes her hand.

“Does this place even have a basement?”

“I hope not.” Eddie chimes in.

“L-let’s find out.”

Bill heads in the direction of the kitchen--however, the group hears something that stops them dead in their tracks.

“Hello? Is someone here?”

A child’s voice--coming from upstairs.

“Georgie?” Ben whispers, casting a glance towards Bill, to which he denies.

“This is a fucking trap, don’t fall for it, Bill.” Shanice starts, hearing the child’s voice become louder.

“HELLO?!”

“Down here! We’re down here!” Shanice’s eyes give Bev a look of utter disbelief, hushing her with a ‘shhh!’.

“Help me, please...” The child’s voice a whimper--Bev moves, with the lantern in hand, up the stairs. The remaining ‘Losers’ climb the stairs after her.

“Bev, she’s right. We need to be cautious.” Shanice gave him a heated glance.

“Now you listen to me when we’re already knee-deep in this trash heap--”

“Hello?” The child’s voice continues, coming from down the hall. The floorboards whine and groan under their combined weight. Shanice hopes it wouldn’t fail them.

Not with how far they’ve ventured. Almost at the end of the hall, Mike pauses.

“You guys hear that?”

Shanice stays in place, contracting--when she hears it. A light hum, a buzz. Coming from a damaged outlet, near the direction of another hallway, their intended target is the door at the end of it.

Only their breathing could be heard as they ventured on--with something troubling following it.

Squeaking, almost like--a clown horn.

“ It. ” Shanice says, gripping onto the bat for dear life. It stops, before smiling at her, with a shit-eating buck-toothed grin.

“Why, I’m not ‘ It ’. My dear, I’m Pennywise, the dancing clown!”

Bill braces, angry flooding his haunted features.

“WHERE’S G-G-GEORGIE?!”

It--Pennywise, tilts his head asking in a childish voice, “Who’s Geor-- oh -- sor--” letting out a giggle before changing back to his original voice.

“-ry, who’s Georgie?” He laughs again, watching them--no, hunting them. Counting them.

“Boy meat. Boy meat. Boy meat. Boy meat. Boy meat. Boy meat.” He chants, salivating, casting a hungry look at Bev.

“Girl meat. Yes. Sweet, salty blood-engorged girl meat...”

He stops, glancing at Shanice, who’s struggling to calm down her heart.

Leaning in close enough, close enough for their hairs to touch.

“Oh? When did Maturin cough up something that smelled so--delicious! You smell much better than your brother. You’re just like little Willy, filled with so much tasty fear!” Shanice screams, swinging her bat as she backed away as quickly as she could.

“Sweet, tasty child...do you know what I’d like to do? Use your thin blue veins like straws, little ears like spoons...” The chaotic plug sparks, Pennywise casts a wayward glance before going on.

“...armpits and cowlicks, freckles and dimples, peachy fuzz, scabbed knees, squeals, and screams!” The spark continues with a similar hum from earlier, however, the Clown ignores it.

“They all reek so good.”

Only when the sound grows louder does he consider acting upon it. The group watches on, seeing him pull out a small screwdriver, attempting to repair it.

Nothing.

Squinting at it, Pennywise snaps his fingers, as if to say, ‘ aha ’--grabbing a bigger screwdriver, jamming it into the socket--electrocuting himself and committing self-immolation. His laughs become manic, demonic, staring at his prey. His eyes like liquid lava, his teeth sharp and multiple spikes.

“Shay!” The girl looks at Stan who’s still holding her hand and her brother who’s inching to join her.

She shakes her head.

“Go, Stanley. You too Mike.”

“But--” Her brother begins--heavily breathing, she pushes the two boys away.

“I’m older. It’s my job to protect you. NOW GO!” With hesitation, the teens run to the rest of the feeling kids.

Shanice holds up the bat, glaring at his face, feigning fright--finally, she starts landing blows on him. Striking over and over, the rest of the losers fled as the floor seemed to crumble under them.

While the others make it, Shanice falls--passing out after she knocks her head into the tiled floor of the kitchen.

The other Losers yell her name while she lies limp, her sticky blood calling the name of a certain predator.

....

....

“Wakey, wakey Tasty.” Shanice’s eyes flutter open to a horrifying site--Pennywise and his bashed-in the skull and looking at her body propped on an old stool. Her head throbs, she touches it gingerly--only to find blood gushing from it. Her heart is racing, she vomits at the right of the mangled clown in front of her.

What happened?

The buzzing of the broken outlet, the fiery terror, the ground shattering under them.

Her falling, passing out.

And now, she’s confronted by a salivating, deranged nightmare of a clown.

This whole house--this whole town was a haunt--a feeding ground. The missing kids, the missing settlers. All of them, devoured--used to satisfy the diet of It.

“--it’s as if you’re marinated in it, aren’t my dear? Aged and rare, just for ol’ Pennywise!” As her head throbbed, she still tries to defend herself, rising her feet, unsteady. Her glaring vision shows a grinning Pennywise.

He takes a hold of her finger, still covering her, lapping at, nibbling on it--eventually gnawing off her finger, crunching on it like a treat. As if a child with a delicious treat, his teeth bloody, settled a delighted grin.

Her slurred hollering echos through the old, decaying room

“That’s it, scream more. GIVE ME MORE OF YOUR FEAR!”

“Get...away...from...me! Someone...help...me..."

She cries in agony--her fourth finger, gone, only a blood-gushing stump remains. Her fresh blood running down her palm as she yells, still trying to get away, somehow, back to her brother and the people she saw as first friends visiting Derry.

Her fellow ‘Losers’.

Shanice drags herself up, to a direction of an opening, feeling It catching her retreating legs, dragging her back. Her nails scraped against the floor, tearing off as she clung on for dear life.

“That’s it, scream more. GIVE ME MORE OF YOUR FEAR!”

Her feet, scratched and bruised, she twists and kicks sluggishly, until her body stops. She felt her dragged back, propped up against the wall.

This was it, this was how she’d die--being eaten, in some decrepit house. Her body--anything left of it would be buried under the crumbling house. She’d be the model for a missing kid’s poster, her grandfather would be like that mother she saw desperately going around, asking where her child was.

Everyone but her brother, Stan, and the rest of them would know the truth.

She’d die, just like that.

“Hey! Get away from my sister!”

Mike was there thrusting the wrench in his head, completely splitting his head--behind him where the rest of the ‘Losers’, with their teeth, bared. Pennywise lets go of her, howling in pain. Shanice falls limp to the ground, the smell of blood in the air.

Mike grabs his sister, and the rest of the gang hauls ass into the living room, her brother and Stan dragging her body as they run from the Neibolt house, the gapping door vaguely taunting them as they escape it.

....

....

Beep, beep. The squeaking sound of slip-resistant shoes worn by nurses echoes throughout. Beeps, finger-hitting keyboard, the occasional laughter, and conversation.

Shanice lay unconscious in the hospital bed.

Their grandfather silently stared out the window while touching his wooden leg.

This girl--she was his first grandchild. Born premature, didn’t come home until much later. Yet, she looked so much smaller laying there than she did inside of an incubator. She was hard-headed--but he didn’t think she would seek It after he warned the two kids.

The gash on her head wasn’t deep. Between the mental trauma and her blood loss--the doctors aren’t sure when she’d wake up.

It was troubling.

Mike’s silent as he sits beside the bed and stares at the slow breathing girl. Her skin is black and blue, she looks more than worse for wear.

The rest, the loser club--minus Eddie who had suffered a sprained arm, stood outside the door looking in.

“We’ll need to go back. Prepared this time...” Bill begins, Stan cuts him off, his voice squeaking with accusation.

“Will you shut the fuck up, Bill--she’s in there not waking up because she tried to save you from your shitty choices!”

Beverly, in the defense of Bill counters, with “...he’s right. No one else is going to do anything.”

“Face it! Shay almost got eaten, fuck she did get eaten--” He looks into the paneled window the door at her hand, wrapped up and traumatized--

“--by some shapeshifting demon monster that almost killed Eddie and Shay!”

Bill counters with, “But she hurt him, we hurt him. That’s something, right?”

“What kind of bullshit consolation prize is that?” Richies says with a scoff, rolling his eyes.

“Great, so next time it will just be madder and bigger and not mess around to kill us. That’s why I’ll go away, and not come back. Not my problem anymore. You can’t wait to get out of this town either, you said --” Ben mutters, while Beverly gives him a sharp look.

“I want to run towards something. Not run away. That’s what cowards do.” Everyone is looking amongst themselves when Richie addresses Bill again, however, he stares at him with a pissed-off glance.

There’s a beat.

And another.

“Let’s face facts. Real-world. Georgie's dead. And you killed him.”

Bill flinches--the words cut deep, like a razor blade. Was that the truth? Did he send his brother out in the rain to die

“I didn’t get my brother killed--”

“You sent him out there by himself. And he died. Either way, you’re just a bunch of losers and you’ll get yourselves killed trying to stop this stupid killer when none of it makes any difference.”

As the bespeckled teen begins his departure, Bill moves to block his path. They stare down at each other. With a frown Richie, irritatingly yells, “Out of my way, Bill! You couldn’t save him but you can still save yourself.”

“I didn’t get my brother killed.”

The hospital room door swings open, it’s Mike. Everyone grows quiet as he stalks up to Bill, and punches Bill square in the jaw--hard enough that he falls onto the cold tiled floors.

“You don’t care about any but yourself. We all have shit going on. My sister was smart enough to try and stop you and you didn’t appreciate that.” Mike says, calmly, a bit too calm as it scares the rest of the ‘Losers.’

Beverly, helping Bill says with a shaky voice, “This, this is what It wants. It wants us divided. That’s what it was doing in Neibolt--separating us.”

Richie snorted, retorting, “Well It got what it wants. But at least I’m alive. And I plan on staying that way.” Richie walks off, Stan and Ben follow. Mike focuses his gaze on Bill.

“Shanice and I are outsiders. We don’t belong here and today proved that.”

Bill, wincing as he holds his jaw, shakes his head.

“B-But, we’re all outsiders.”

Mike turned his back to him. His eyes shifted to his sister, bandaged up, lying still.

“No, you’re not. None of you are.”

....

....

“--may’ansho sheh’la’zeh.”

Inside of a synagogue, a bat mitzvah is held for Stan--none of his fellow ‘Loser’ club members, including Shanice’s who’s still deemed as comatose. Stan, who had been preparing for the day, couldn’t help but feel driven by his nerves.

Dealing with trauma, barely coping on his own--the day they went to the Neibolt house, the blood he couldn’t forget that on his hand--her blood for that matter.

Scrubbing his skin, throwing the clothes he’d worn that day.

Nothing worked

He glances at his mother, who’s looking quite stone-friendly--his eyes then glance to Richie, seated far in the back--then to the Rabbi, his father who gives a nod to go on with his reciting.

Stan nervously begins, “Um, reflecting on what I just read, I like what it says about indifference. When you’re a kid...” he stalls, the air turns into thick scrutiny.

“Stanley,” His father warns, his tone deep and authoritative.

He can feel the sharp looks his parents are starting to give.

It was suffocating almost.

He takes a deep breath.

Slowly, he recalls the advice Shanice had given to him while devouring an ice cream cone.

“I’m nervous about this whole thing. It’s like my dad’s waiting for me to mess up the whole thing.” Shanice looked up at him, her eyes big and curious. Stanley felt his heart pound--he averts his gaze, his flushed face instead focused on his frozen. They sat inside of an ice cream shop, both eating rocky road and chocolate chip ice cream respectively. He explains his trouble, which mainly stem from his problem regarding his speech and his fears of fucking the whole thing up.

“Well, if you’re scared that you’ll mess up--just wing it.”

“Just wing it?” She nods.

“Just wing it and say how you feel. If all else fails, at least you won’t be up there, saying nothing--you wouldn’t wanna look foolish, would you?”

And so, he does just that--he speaks what he feels, in his heart.

“Well, when you’re a kid you think the universe revolves around you. That you’ll always be protected and cared for. Then one day, something bad happens and you realize that’s not true.”

After her hospitalization, Mike took up his sister’s farming duties. Partially out of obligation, partially out of guilt. He watches a sheep in it’s pen with his grandfather--it was separated from his herd, vulnerable. His grandfather hands him the stun bolt gun again, urging him to take his shot.

Stans takes a breath before speaking once more.

“Suns go out and animals go extinct and whole nations go crazy and kill people they don’t like and none of it seems to matter.”

Mike aims, shoots--and instantly, the sheep falls to the ground.

Bev stands in her bathroom, brushing her hair--from the corner of her eye, she can’t turn her gaze out of the window, in the direction to Neibolt street.

Her heartaches.

A tear falls down her cheek.

“That’s why our friends and faith and family are so important.”

Bill sits at the dining table at his house, alone-- as always, thinking--about a lot of things.

Things he can’t do over, mistakes he’s made trying to be brave. Not actually being courageous, but faking it and hoping somehow that everything would end, and they’d make it out alive.

But, like wanting to see his brother again, those thoughts were wistful feelings of a boy.

“We matter. Even if, to the universe--”

In the library, Ben studies a painting of the First Settlement of Dairy. At first glance, it’d seem the men in it--the fur trapper was in position. However, as he looks closer, he realizes something both morbid and fascinating.

They were dead, only positioned as if they were alive.

A chill ran through him as he stared wide-eyed at it.

“--we’re too small to notice.”

Unknowingly, before they could even scream, they had become the prey instead.

....

....

Lucid, yet anchored.

Shanice was awake--but her body wasn’t.

Her mind ran, she felt so alone in a black space--she felt cold, down to her blood and her bone.

At that moment, she finally managed to open her eyes--to a white, bubbled ceiling. The first thing she notices is the scent of artificial cleanliness, a smell that’s almost sickening.

It’s a constant beep followed by the sounds of a new report.

“Good morning. Today is July 18th, 1985. In today’s news...”

The IV runs with a soft, slow drip.

She breathes slowly and calmly under her oxygen mask.

Shanice feels a dull, aching pain and her body reacts and stirs.

She hears the door open--it’s her Grandfather, with Mike and a familiar face following.

Stanley, looking at her with the worst kind of look on his face. In his neat clothes, his shirt buttons up all the way despite the heat of the summer. His big, brown eyes heavy, gaunt with dark, purplish bags.

“You look like shit.” She mutters, her voice small and raspy--at that moment, she’s overcome with a tight embrace, followed by a wailing cry--by Stan. Her hospital gown had become damp from those tears, his head inside the crook of her neck.

“I thought you were going to die.”

“But I didn’t. This kinda thing ain't gonna kill me.

Her response only has him sobbing harder inside her grasp.

When he looks at her, she gives him a gap-tooth grin, brushing his curly hair off his face. Stan, who seemed to have short-fused at the sight, ducked his head once against her chest. The adolescent, the one-sided moment was broken up from the older, impatient man in the doorway.

“Come on boy, you're getting your snot everywhere. You don't want the girl you like to see you with like some sap, do ya?” Her grandfather says, glaring down at Stan until he moves far away.

Shanice raises her brow at the last bit of the statement but decides she's too tried to investigate at that point.

The patriarch sits down, with Mike opposite of him--his face is grave.

“I thought I warned ya’ll of It--and yet you sought It out.” Shanice, groggy, still flinches at his words.

“Granddaddy, it’s killing people!”

“Which is why you should stay away! You got out this time, but what about the next time? Are you willing to die?” The girl and her Grandfather stared in silence, them being the only two in the room after a weeping Stan was ushered out by Mike. She struggles to keep up with the staredown, her eyes lowered, swollen and throbbing.

She began to cry.

An aching sob, rattling her sore back and chest, rough on her throat.

“Now, why the hell are you crying girl?”

Grandpa Hanlon asks, careful taking her small hand into his larger, calloused one. He, with the gentleness of a grandfather, lends her his shoulder.

“If we don’t do this, who’s gonna save us? Every adult here except you act like ain’t nothing going on. It’s It versus Us.”

William purses his lips, stroking his granddaughter’s coiled hair.

“I know what it feels like to be helpless. Against that thing, against Derry. You're alone, fighting against something much bigger than you. You kids... I don’t know what to say. I ain’t gonna stop you, am I?”

He looks down at his granddaughter’s snot, tear-covered face, and decides he should go ahead and lend her his handkerchief.

He held it up to Shanice's face.

“Gon ‘head and blow.”

After cleaning up her face, her grandfather pats her shoulder.

“Whatever you chose to do, I’ll support you and help you the best I can, Baby Girl.”

....

....

After a week, Shanice was released from the hospital, back home to an unsure reality.

Later that day, missing digits, left still tired and out of it--dressed in a pair of overalls and Adidas, she planned on trying to find something to do to keep her anxiety at bay. She approaches the local arcade, with intentions of seeing if they had a Pac-Man machine in it.

Then, she realizes she’s missing, certain required parts to play a hands-on game.

Nevertheless, she still enters, hoping to kill a bit of time.

She encounters a familiar bespeckled boy, he seems completely focused on the at hand.

“Finally! Anyone wanna watch me--”

Shanice obviously doesn’t care about the fact.

“Yo, Rich!”

Richie’s eyes, a bit annoyed, slowly widens when he recognizes the voice calling for him. He envelopes her into a friendly embrace, almost knocking the breath out of her when he did.

“Dude! You’re alive!”

“Of course I am. A little banged up, that’s all.” She uses her good hand to high-five him.

“So...” He glances at her bandaged hand and forehead.

“How are you...feeling?”

She laughs.

“Richie, I’m as good as a girl can be with her fingers missing.”

Richie snorts.

“Richie!” The two teenagers pause, looking at the other familiar voice--they’re met with Bill, who’s running over to them, huffing.

“It got Bev!”

Shanice frowns, suddenly feeling fidgety.

“What do you mean ‘It got Bev’?” Bill whose face is panicked and flushed finally notices Shanice, now out of the hospital staring at him.

“Shay, I--”

“Bill. We can talk later. We need to get her back, right?”

He nods, the three teenagers look amongst each other, a beat passes, and Richie speaks up.

“I’ll call Eddie and Stanley. You get Ben--and Shanice go get your brother. We’ll meet up at the standpipe.”

The boy and girl nod, with the feeling of dread hanging in the air.

“Th-thanks.”

Richie gives him a shit-eating grin.

“Hey, what are friends for, right?”

The three split ways.

Shanice arrives home, she spots her grandfather in the living room, watching an episode of Sanford and Sons.

“Remember when you said you’d help, Granddaddy?”

The older man, with a Budweiser in his hand, looks a bit off in the distance.

“Alright. Get your brother.”

With them all together, Shanice gives them both a brief rundown of the situation at hand.

He gives Mike the stun bolt gun, and her a hunting knife. It’s larger than her hands, and it’s metal cool to the touch. She glances at its gleaming nature before folding it and putting it in her pocket.

“Now, ya’ll sure you want to do this?” Mike doesn’t say much, only glaring at the ground.

“Why should we help them?”

Shanice knows what he means--of course, she does.

Why should we, when we’re just outsiders.

Did they ever fit into this mess? They were never supposed to be here in the first place.

But things happened, and now they are.

“Friends help friends, Mike.”

The siblings walk in silence as they approach the monument square, as they all did before. The dire situation at hand, bringing them together again--minus Beverly. While her grandfather’s hunting knife was tucked in the pocket of her shorts, Mike clenched onto the stun bolt in his hands.

Richie’s eyes are glued to it.

Mike rolls his eyes.

“Better than a broken bottle.”

Ignoring the boy and her brother’s interactions, Shanice turns to look at Bill as he begins to speak.

“If anyone wants to back out, now’s the time.”

Ben shakes his head.

“No. Remember what Beverly said. We all go or none of us do. That’s the only way we can defeat It.”

“Then...let’s go to Neibolt.”

....

....

The group of teenagers arrives at the still decaying house. It seems much more frightening than their first venture there. Shanice feels trepidation, thinking back to their first time being there. But now, they know what’s there. That thing was there.

She feels something tug at her hand.

Mike grabs her hand, squeezing it tight.

Her brother and Stan give her wan appearance mirroring nervous glances.

“You good?”

Not really.

She felt like puking.

But she couldn’t tell Mike that.

So, she nodded her head.

“No, let’s go ahead.”

After a while, they enter, standing in the living room. Shanice scrunches her nose as the smell of rot and scum hits her again.

“Where do you think she’ll be?” Mike turns and asks Bill.

“B-Basement. The well. That’s where he was going to take Eds, right?”

The teen casts a glance at the aforementioned ‘Loser’ visibly shakes, the only one still standing at the entrance. Letting of her brother’s hand, trying to shake off her own fear, goes over to him.

Shanice pauses, her hand frozen in the stifling air.

Was she reassuring him, or herself?

She didn’t know.

She was confident in her decision at home, but now she felt the situation weigh on thick. Her body is rattled with tremors. She recalls her howls, trying to crawl away, trying to get away from It.

Her, ultimately failing.

Subsequently, while the girl’s heart felt contemplation, Bill’s voice disrupted her thoughts.

Without pause or stutter, addresses Eddie and the rest of the group.

“As long as we don’t let fear overtake us we can do it. But we have to do it together.”

She nods.

“Hey, you got all your fingers, don’t you?”

Taking a quick glance at her bandaged hand, bobbing his head quickly.

“Exactly. He’s not gonna get you--or us, today. You gotta be strong--we have to be strong; together.” Shanice says, trying not to let her voice betray her words.

She pats him on the shoulder, like something her father used to do to comfort her, albeit brashly.

Eddie with resolve as he looks amongst his fellow losers makes his way into the house with her.

The floors creak as they champion on--as if to say they were intruding on it’s space.

Suddenly, there’s a loud commotion coming from the kitchen.

Following it was a similar sound coming from the other side, coming from the basement.

Bills rush over to the direction, much to the dismay of the other ‘Losers’ in the house.

“Wait--” Eddie warns from beside Shanice.

Bill responds stubbornly, “It could be her.”

And immediately after tries to open the door. At first, it doesn’t budge, persisting in its door frame. Looking amongst, themselves, wondering if it could be Beverly, go over to try and help. With a reverberating clang, the door is forced open. Shanice stumbles back with the rest of them, falling back, looking back in horror at what emerges from it.

Bright, red balloons.

And beyond them, lingering darkness.

Almost inaudibly, Shanice mutters “Not her...it’s It trying to scare us...”

Bill takes in a deep, sharp breath, rising to his feet.

“C’mon. Stay close.”

With those words, he takes the plunge into the vantablack nihility. With uncertainty, they follow after him. The stairs wobble with their combined weight--Shanice, thinking back to when the floor stares into the darkness with her heart pounding.

Only, then, does she realize she doesn’t seem to notice where Bill anymore, even squinting.

“I can’t find Bill.”

Meanwhile, Bill is leered from above through the sewer gate, by Pennywise. Blood drips from his sharp, barred teeth, onto Bill’s face. Determined not to seem intimidating, he stares back at him as fiercely as he could with the clown drooling at the sight of him.

“Not yet seasoned. But I know some girl meat, that I’ve sampled--and boy meat that is fresh with fear--that is...”

While he walks away with his own giddy laughter, Bill’s eyes widen in realization.

Shanice, back the stairs, wonders if she’s imagining things when she hears the line.

“Shay!” Her suspicions are furthered when she hears him call out to her.

“...Bill?” She questions, cutting herself off as the floor below her opens up like a trap door.

She drops with a harsh thud--onto the rough carpet, the beige color evoking memories.

It was her parent’s old apartment. The old, brown recliner, which was her favorite place to sit was still there.

She looks down, her bandages were gone, her hand and finger intact.

Was everything just a dream?

A long, sick dream?

“Shanice, baby?”

Standing in the living room, she’s met by her mother.

With her arms crossed standing in her pink, satin robe, her mother calls out to her. Her voice to grown rough by nicotine, her tone concerned and maternal.

“Sweetheart, why aren’t you in bed?” Her mother questions, cupping her face. Shanice leans into it, soaking in the maternal warmth she’s missed during this nightmare. At the sight of her mother, alive and well, Shanice hugs her tight.

“Mama, mama. I was so scared...” She mutters in a silent chant, burying her face into her bosom. The smell of swishers fills her senses, mixed in with her mother’s soft rose-scented perfume.

It assured her that she was home.

“What’s wrong baby? Had a bad dream?”

The teenager nods, replying, “I really bad one. The...the police came to our house, and Daddy was gonna get arrested. I...I thought you died.”

Her mother laughs--no giggles, with fancy.

“But baby, I’m already dead. Don't you remember? You were the one who let me die.”

Suddenly, she starts to smell rust, while blood begins to smear on her childish face. She jerks away, looking at something, that her mother, smiling back at her, bleeding from the chest.

She starts to holler, uncontrollably, scrambling for exit away from the nightmare she was facing.

Meanwhile, her brother, who notices both Eddie and Shanice gone, with his thoughts mimicked by Mike.

“Where’s Eddie and Shay? They were just here.”

Stanley couldn’t help but reply, “It’s separating us. We need to get help for them and Bill...”

The four boys, Richie included, decide to move back the stairs, away from the pit below. Just before they reach upstairs, they see a figure of a person on top.

Mike, squint, clutching then stun bolt gun in his hand.

It was Henry Bowers.

Baaing like a sheep, holding a knife.

Unexpected, with a bit of lunacy.

“ Guys, it’s never good when the person with the knife starts making animal noises, especially--”

Mike glares at him reprimanding him--

“Now isn’t the time to be fucking making a joke, Richie!”’

--a bit like his missing sister.

They all freeze, trying to find a way away from the older teen a knife he planned to use on them.

“Here! Climb up!” Ben, who seemed to have found some sort of escape tunnel among debris and calls them over to it. Mike, being the only person of the group armed, guards the entrance as the others made their way in

“Mike! Let’s go!” Ben yells--with his eyes on Henry, he slowly climbs in--the others not fully out yet.

“Shit, Mike,” Stan says, the second to last of the escapees, looking at him with worry filling his chest.

The others have stopped as well, their movement stalling.

“Just go. Find the others--find my sister. I’ll hold Bowers off.”

Richie shakes his head his words, “Mike--”

Lifting the gun that never left his hand since they arrived at the decrepit house, he remarks with steady, surprisingly cooled confidence, “I came prepared, remember?”

With that, the teenager turns to face the boy who’s been taunting him since he came to town.

....

....

Shanice watches with her hand clenched as the illusion fades and her ‘mother’ transmutes into Pennywise. They’re kitchen, like before. She even sees her blood on the tiled floor, dried--having left a trail to where she tried to save herself.

“You’re not real, none of this real.”

The clown smiles at her, with its bloody buck-teeth.

“Your missing fingers beg to differ, do they not?”

In a soft, flamboyant tone he mockingly continues in reply, “ ‘Mama, Mama, I was so scared!’ The big bad pennywise was gonna eat meeeeee.”

She narrows her black, pit-filled eyes, her pounding heart betrays her defiant expression.

She clenches her teeth, remembering her knife that was thankfully still hidden in her pocket.

She convulses, choking back her trepidation. Her skin was covered in sweat, she felt as if she wanted to throw up.

Her heart is in her throat. Throbbing, pulsing.

This could be the reason for her death.

But she can’t go back now.

Not now, she wasn’t a coward, nor was she someone who would abandon her friends.

Taking a breath, she rushes and lunges at the clown in front of her. She impales the space of the creature’s skull once with the weapon in her hand--piercing it as blood-splattered and flowed--not waiting as she dashed away, using the distraction to escape. down to the uncertainty of the basement.

Shanice races, in pursuit of Bev, her brother, Stan--hell, anyone to make sure they were at least still alive.

She dashes down the stairs, feels her short legs trip and tumble--and despite pain, she continues. She pursues until she’s limping to the sound of voices. Shanice sees her brother--and Henry Bowers standing over him. It’s a scuffle, and her brother was obviously losing.

“I told you to stay the fuck out my town, didn’t I?” His voice drips with disgust, kicking Mike in the chest as he produces a knife with no gleam. She chokes down a sob before a scream rips through her chest.

“Hey Bowers!”

Henry’s head whips over to her, her brother’s eyes glued to her.

It didn’t matter if she was a girl who stood at only 4 ft 10 or if she was even smaller than Eddie, Henry had one thought on his mind.

Again, again, again, she’s knocked around and beat with persistent fists.

Kill her, get her out the way, and then finish off Mike.

Her breaths are shallow, her body feels ravaged.

He takes a boot-clad foot and kicks her in the chest to throw her back.

“You aren’t so tough now, are you?”

His wicked grin spreads as approaches her with her brother’s stun bolt gun in one hand, aiming right between her eyes.

“I’m going to kill you and your wuss brother and then I’m going to kill all your friends.”

“No...No, you won’t!”

There’s not even a whole beat before another voice interrupts the bully's speech. The rest is like a blood-soaked haze--Mike grabs the bully, away from his sister down the darkness of a well behind them.

“Mike!”

Shanice is panting, dragging herself against the structure, hoping to see what was occurring--not suspect she’s fallen herself to a harsh, bone-rattling thud. She watches in a daze as Henry lies still, seemingly rendered unconscious. Her brother, and the newly reunited Losers club attempt to help her up.

“Michael, why don’t you come with your old pops?” The teenage boy stops in his tracks as a hand jerks him away from his sister’s grasp. Roughly handling him is something that looks like his father, but not him.

“Let me go!”

He’s being pulled closer, into a mass of Dead Lights, a stunning death wish. He struggled, thrashing at the man’s grasp, letting out a voice cracking scream. He believes that isn’t his father, he knows that isn’t his father. Determined for it to not get him, he looks away from the illuminating accumulation, every word like a thrown dagger.

“Let! Me! Go!”

Only after that, is he truly free and brought back into the safety of his friends, his fellow losers.

Shanice, with a strained voice, weakly asks, “Bill...where’s Bill?” Beverly, who stood beside Stan holding the injured girl in his arms, looked around alarmed.

“We have to find Bill.” Stan, who opted to piggy-back Shanice, Mike searches for their leader who disappears. The room around them shakes and quakes, their calling becoming louder as the chaotic finally hits its peak until--Shanice sees a body drop from the squint of her drooping eyes.

It’s Bill.

Foolish, stuttering Bill.

“Are you okay?” Beverly asks.

The boy nods.

Shanice lets out a weak laugh.

She watches from over the shoulder of Stan’s shoulder, gripping tighter onto his clothing when he hands his gun to Bill.

Bill begins walking, stopping to turn to the Losers. His eyes are bright and determined.

Slowly, but with a common aim in mind, they hunt for Pennywise.  All along the way they are faced with their fears. The Losers, ignore them, as if they didn’t exist--Bill who stands in front of them with his head held high.

“A truce to be true. A deal to be struck. Ignore this, forget me, and I will let you all grow and thrive, living happy lives until you die happy deaths at age hundred and one.” Pennywise’s voice offers, clear and dark as if it were speaking directly to them--but, the clown was nowhere in sight.

Bill’s stuttering voice follows soon after.

“N-NO! No more...”

Silence follows it.

“Maybe we should have at least discussed the deal first...” Richie murmurs as they leave in the fright of the dark unknown.

The sewer gates, behind it was a child’s crying face.

Georgie, Bill’s brother, wearing a yellow raincoat.

Holding a soaked paper boat.

“Let him go, Bill. He said I could come back if you let him go... please, Bill!”

Bill hesitates. There his brother was, looking like he did before he disappeared. The same, childish smile.

“I want you back more than anything else--”

Georgie smiles, calling out him, “Hug me,”

He turns around. He sees the two Hanlon siblings, he glances at Shanice’s batter form, slowly trying to stand on her own--Mike’s steel gaze watching his every move.

He turns back to face his “brother”, stepping forward--and instead, raises Mike’s gun to him.

“But you’re not Georgie.”

Suddenly, enraged, the boy’s figure quickly turns Pennywise--whose teeth are bared like a rabid animal. As fast the Losers can blink, there’s seven of them instead of eight. They all are faced with a sight that churns their stomachs--the creature grins with bloody teeth as he gnaws once again at the girl’s injured hand--only spitting out non-tasty things like bandages.

Bill panics, looking between the girl and clown before he finally takes a breath and fires a shot. It lands right between its eyes, where Bowers had intended to shoot Shanice.

It lets out a shriek, engulfing itself as it transforms into something akin to a black hole...with the girl and boy she held to,  following it into its abyss.

[dancingalone21]

Broken - Part 2 (Final)

Summary: Jensen and the reader had an amazing night...until the condom broke. Not happy with the way things went down, Jensen surprises the reader when he shows up at her house.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Word Count: 1,597

Part 1

~

“The shit I get myself into.” Jensen grumbles to himself, absentmindedly grabbing the brim of his hat and spinning it around.

Tired and annoyed, Jensen’s at a standstill in the ice cream isle at Whole Foods. His greenish hazel eyes have been darting back and forth, trying to decide which brand of ice cream would be best for breakfast.

Inwardly groaning, the actor snaps his eyes shut realizing just how ridiculous that sounds. A fact like that should maybe deter him from pursuing a girl like you. Something perceived as cute and quirky could easily be a red flag in disguise. With his luck, you probably entertain some sick habit like collecting human teeth in the back of your closet.

Jensen’s ridiculous train of thought is interrupted by a text from Gen, thankfully she’s an early riser. He breathes a sigh of relief once your address is in his hands. It’s quickly chased away when a shit ton of nerves overtake him.

Jensen hates how things ended late last night, he finally finds a girl that he really likes and this is what happens. He even planned on asking you out for a proper date, something better than a one night stand. Then shit hit the fan and his plans were rudely interrupted by a god damn broken condom.

After he followed your hyper ass around the house, he finally shook himself out of the whirlwind that was you. Not able to sleep, Jensen filled his time knocking back whiskey and pacing relentlessly around his home. Basically killing time until the supermarket was open the next morning.

Finally giving up on the ice cream crisis, Jensen chucks a popular brand into his cart and rolls into the next isle. He picks up a few more items for you then cluelessly wonders what to choose next.

Flowers? Candy? A stuffed animal? It’s not like Hallmark has a greeting card for this type of embarrassing situation.

I’m sorry I blew my load into you. Have a great day!

Ugh. Jensen decides to just stick with what he has and heads to your house, it’s probably the safest idea. Shit will be awkward enough, he doesn’t need to amplify the stressful tension.

Jensen stalls in your driveway at first, debating back and forth if this is the right move to make. The ice cream in his bag soon forcing his ass to march over and impatiently knock on your front door. It swings open sooner than expected making him freeze, the confused expression on your face not helping.   

“You look…good.” Jensen tilts his head as his mesmerizing eyes rake over your body. If you weren’t so perturbed right now, you’d yank his ass inside and rip his clothes off.

“Uh…sorry to disappoint you?” You reply making Jensen sheepishly shake his head.

“Well, I googled the Plan B pill and read how it usually makes women sick so…” He explains pulling a huge sigh from your lips.

“I haven’t taken it yet.”

“Oh.”

“Why are you here?”

“I don’t like how things played out last night. I should have never let you leave like that. I would’ve called but I never got your number. Gen told me how to find you.”

“Yeah I shouldn’t have freaked the way I did.” You admit nervously gnawing at your bottom lip.

“Can I come in?”

“…I guess.”

You immediately catch your reflection in the hallway mirror as you pass by and your eyes widen. Son of a bitch. You’re in bright purple pajama pants and a Disney World t-shirt that says ‘I’m Goofy. What’s your excuse?’

“Give me a minute. I’ll go change quick.” You mumble refusing to make eye contact with the god like creature behind you.

“Aw. I kinda like Goofy.” Jensen smirks holding back a chuckle, garnering an eye roll in response.

“What’s all that?” You gesture to the bag in Jensen’s grasp, ridiculously curious about what this man wants from you.

“Ginger ale, saltines, soup and ice cream. I read it makes you nauseous and I threw the ice cream in to try and win brownie points.” The charming bastard throws you a wink and then strolls right by you into the kitchen.

“Oh that’s nice of you. Thanks.” You answer carefully, nervously assessing how much of a mess your kitchen is at the moment.

“So…” Jensen sets his gaze on the Plan B box chilling on your kitchen counter before locking eyes with you.

“Don’t worry. I have like 72 hours even though it’s best to take it as soon as possible. I suppose I’m just a little paranoid. I’ve been staring at it all morning.” You admit giving the box the evil eye.

“Paranoid? About what?”

“My system is really sensitive when I take pills. It’s guaranteed that I’ll get all of the side effects that this pill has to offer. That’s how it always is.” You lightly scoff aggravated that your body betrays you.

“And I made the mistake of googling it, there’s a shit ton of horror stories of how sick women have got. But whatever, it is what it is.”

“Damn, that sucks. If I could take your place and do it for you I would, Y/N.” Jensen genuinely means that, you can hear the sincerity in his voice and it’s weirdly comforting.

“Do you have Netflix?” He loudly throws over his shoulder, on his way out of the kitchen towards the family room.

“Uh…yeah. Why?” You inquire following close behind.

“We’re gonna need something good to watch all day and night. Duh.”

“We?”

“I might be overstepping my bounds here but I’m not leaving and you won’t convince me otherwise.”

“Jensen…”

“I know we barely know each other but you didn’t get into this mess on your own, Y/N. I’m gonna stay as long as I need to. Whether it be one day or three, I’m not letting you do this alone.”

The tone of Jensen’s voice makes it clear that he wouldn’t be persuaded otherwise but of course that doesn’t stop you. The man is clearly a stubborn fucker but you’ve dealt with worse including yourself.

“That’s really sweet but not necessary, Ackles. If you’re worried that I won’t take the pill then you can watch me do it. I’m just being a wuss. I’ll take it right now.”

“It’s not that, Y/N. We both know you couldn’t handle a celebrity baby. Too many pictures.” He snickers clearly amused at your scared as hell confession.

“Shut up.” You snap back, crossing your arms over your chest trying to fight back a smile.

“For real though, I’m not worried about that. I can tell you’re a genuine person. Plus Gen wouldn’t have invited you into her life if you weren’t.”

“But…”

“I’m on hiatus so you can’t get rid of me, beautiful. I don’t know what you prefer when you’re sick, if you like company or to be left alone. You can tell me to fuck off and lock yourself in the bedroom if you want. I’ll just chill out here in case you need something.”

What a thoughtful son of bitch.

“Ok. If that’s what you wanna do. You can leave at any time.” You tell him defeatedly.

“Ok.”

“I know I won’t be able to eat for a while so I planned on ordering food once it got closer to lunch time. You hungry?”

“Yeah. What do you want? I could always make you something in the mean time.” Jensen sweetly offers already making his way towards the refrigerator.

My lord. He’s a good egg.

“Nah I’ll just have my usual bowl of ice cream.” You laugh once you see it’s already been set on the counter by Jensen who’s wearing a knowing grin.

“I’m a quick learner.” He declares proudly causing you to giggle.

“What else can I do? To make you feel better about all of this?”

“I can’t think of anything.” You shrug, attractively shoving a big spoonful of Häagen-Dazs into your mouth.

“We could always….” Jensen starts with a wiggle of eyebrows.

“Seriously?”

“Why not? We both had fun last night and you’re gonna take the pill anyways, right? So we don’t even have to worry about protection this time around.” He stupidly suggests with a devilish smirk.  

“Good idea, Ackles. Let’s shoot more sperm into my vagina. Just for fun!” You exclaim flinging a spoonful of ice cream but sadly missing the mark.

“Are you always this uptight?” He cracks up, pointing at the ice cream on the floor.

“No. This is just a weird situation, dude! Dean fucking Winchester is standing in my kitchen.” You retort with an annoyed stance.

“You’re crazy.” Jensen responds adorably quirking an eyebrow in your direction.

“I’m glad we’re both on the same page now.” You announce failing to keep a straight face. Damn it.

“I haven’t heard the word no yet…” Jensen mentions moving closer to you.

“Fine. Let’s go but we’re using a condom.” You sigh heavily as you set down your bowl of ice cream and leave the room.

“Please tone down the enthusiasm. You’re embarrassing yourself, Y/N.” Jensen scoffs then effortlessly throws you over his shoulder, pulling a surprised squeal from your lips as he heads into the bedroom.

~

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