#oof I ran out of colors for the title

[rosie-b]

Centuries Overdue

Chapter 8

Marinette sighed in relief.

There, a little black cat was floating in the air near Adrien, who was still alive and okay! Beside the cat, there was a ladybug of equal size with sparkling blue eyes. As it hovered near the other kwami, it looked over at Marinette and smiled.

“Hello, Marinette! It’s good to see one of my own Mages,” the kwami gushed, flying over to her. “That hasn’t happened in a while. I’m Tikki. Nice to meet you!”

Marinette was lost for words. “Where’s Gimmi?”

Tikki looked confused at first, but then understanding flooded her face. “You met them, didn’t you? I’m so glad you’re all right! What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Marinette swallowed. “It’s a long story.”

“Then it’s all the more important to tell, don’t you think?” Tikki asked. She gazed up at Marinette with innocent blue eyes.

Marinette looked at Adrien, who sighed.

“Tell her the abridged version, Marinette. She and Plagg deserve to know.”

Marinette looked back at Tikki. “It started when I  decided to visit the catacombs and Alya told me there were zombies,” she began. She spent the next few minutes quickly recapping what had happened next, and noticed how sad and remorseful Tikki looked when she heard about the Mages and Talents who’d been trapped by Gimmi’s magic.

“I am so sorry you had to go through that, Marinette! Thank you for telling us about it, though. It’s good that we know.”

The other kwami, who must be Plagg, looked horrified. “I wish I didn’t,” he said.

Adrien reached out to cup him in his hands. “I know how you feel. But it will be okay, right?”

Plagg nodded uneasily. “They would have had to be released,” he told Adrien. “All the Talents. They’re all gone now, Adrien.”

“I think they already were,” Adrien said sadly. “I’m glad they can rest now, at least. They had to wait for release too long.”

Plagg nodded, curling up in his Chosen’s palm. “It’s a good thing you’re safe, Adrien.”

“Well,” Marinette said, “I hate to bring it up, but I have a huge question that’s still unanswered. How do we get out of the catacombs? We’re still in a locked-off, uncharted section of them. No one can find us here, which means either we rescue ourselves, we get lucky and some cataphiles find us, or we die. And I’d rather not die!”

“You can use your powers to escape!” Tikki said excitedly. “Create a map of the catacombs, and Plagg and I will help you get out, even if the entrance is blocked.”

Oh, man, things had changed since just a few hours ago. Back then, Marinette had accepted that she just wouldn’t be able to escape, but now, she had gained a— a partner? Magic sort-of soulmate? Friend? 

She had Adrien with her now, and her own magic to boot. Plus two helpful kwamis who’d recently been part of one big, scary kwami who’d almost killed her.

“Okay,” Marinette said dubiously. “I guess that could work, even if I’m still new to magic. But what spell do I use, Tikki?”

“Since I’m with you right now, it doesn’t have to be complicated. Just say, ‘Tikki, spots on!’ and I’ll give you a map instead of a yo-yo this time.”

“Is that how that works,” Marinette muttered. “Okay, Tikki, spots on!”

Sure enough, a map fell into her hands.

“Better than a teapot, right, Marinette?” Adrien asked. 

She snorted. “Very. Okay,” she said, twisting the map around. “It looks like we should go that way!”

“We’ll need some light,” Adrien said. “And you may be powerful, but you’re still new to magic, so you can only do one spell at a time.”

“Let me do it!” Tikki offered. “It’s been a while since I’ve been able to help one of my Mages. Without the Talents, it’s been nearly a decade since the last one made it to my castle.”

“Your castle?”

“Mm-hm, in Italy. Adrien’s visited it before; you can ask him to tell you all about it if you want!” Tikki studied the map and darted ahead, creating a series of little lanterns to show the way. The rest of the group followed after her.

“Oh, right! He wrote about it in the third and ninth journals. I remember now,” Marinette said.

Adrien looked amused. “Wait, did you read the rest of my journals, too? Not just the one you found me with?”

“Uh—” Marinette gulped as her face heated up. “Maybe? They were in a library I was working at for my summer job. They were kind of falling apart, but they were intriguing, so I read them anyway. They’re how I found out about magic.”

“Yeah, that would be why Gimmi was targeting my kitten,” Plagg grumbled. “He’s too good at his job. Gimmi didn’t want him to keep writing and risk the Ungifted finding out about magic again, or the Mages figuring out who was behind the Darkness.”

“I didn’t even know about Wishes while I was writing,” Adrien groaned. “Honestly, Gimmi needs to talk to other people before murdering them! And you should talk to other people more often, too, Plagg. And not just about cheese.”

“You spent how many centuries maturing in the catacombs, and you still can’t appreciate my gooey cheeses? Adrien, I’m offended!” Plagg let out a loud, indignant sniff.

Although, Marinette noticed that he didn’t move from Adrien’s shoulder, where he had moved to rest.

“Well, at least you feel comfortable telling me when you feel bad,” Adrien said. “Now, do it more often; tell someone when something is hurting you. Maybe if you and Tikki don’t store up negative emotions, that will help Gimmi be less angry all the time, since you two are what they’re made of.”

“Sure thing, kid,” Plagg said. “I’ll talk your ear off if you want me to.”

“We should probably talk, too, Marinette,” Tikki said, coming back from lighting the rest of the lanterns. Behind them, the ones they’d already passed winked out of existence. “I bet you have a lot of questions for me!”

Marinette smiled, feeling very weary and no small amount overwhelmed. “Maybe once we get out of the catacombs,” she promised. “We still have a long way to go. And hey, it’s pretty cool that we’re here, now that I think about it,” she mused. “No one else has been where we are since probably before you died, Adrien! A positive outlook—and knowing we’re not about to die—makes this trip a lot better.”

He winced. “Yeah. It’s pretty cool,” he repeated cautiously. “However, you’re going to have to teach me everything I missed in the last two centuries, or I fear I’ll never blend in once we’re out of here. I’m still surprised I was able to come back at all.”

“Yeah, thank you for that, Ponytail,” Plagg said. 

On realizing who he was speaking to, Marinette reached back for her hair, feeling offended. “Hey! I needed to keep it out of my eyes, that’s all.”

“Plagg, be nice! Besides, milady, I think you look beautiful like this,” Adrien said. 

Plagg peeked one eye open to stare at him. “Oh boy, here we go,” he groaned.

Marinette’s face felt like someone had turned into a furnace. “O-oh, hanks, Madrien! I mean, thanks, Adrien! It isn’t my usual style, though.”

“Oh! Well, I’m sure you’re beautiful no matter how you wear it.” Adrien smiled at her, but when she kept staring at him, he coughed and schooled his face. “Okay, I have a joke to share while we’re all still trying to keep distracted. Here it goes— what do libraries and catacombs have in common?”

Marinette blinked. Libraries and catacombs?  “I don’t know. What?”

Adrien grinned and leaned closer to her. “They both have a lot of spines! Get it?”

Marinette looked sideways at Adrien, whose smile began to slip.

“Book spines, human spines? No?”

Marinette closed her eyes. “Adrien, I just almost died and you just came back from being dead. How can you joke about bones already? I think if I look at the walls we’re walking past for too long, I’ll throw up.”

Adrien winced. “Sorry! I’m so sorry. I forgot, it’s rude to speak that way in front of—"

“Girls aren’t the issue, Adrien,” Plagg interrupted. “The Un-Gifted moved past that, mostly.”

Adrien relaxed. “Oh. That’s good. I mean, the Mages were always a bit different, but it’s good to know the rest of the world has changed, too.”

“It definitely has,” Marinette agreed. “It was refreshing, to read your journals and know that at least for some women, the 1800s weren’t as bad as they were for most. You know, thinking back to the joke, I think the issue is that you grew up basically surrounded by war and death, but I didn’t. France is mostly at peace in the modern world; democracy is back, and so it was really hard to suddenly be thrust into a battle and confronted with so much death. I’m sure we’ll both need therapy when we get back.”

“Therapy?” Adrien questioned, raising one eyebrow. “You’re sure we can get that? What we went through is pretty specific, you know.”

“Modern therapy, yes. Alya told me the Mages have their own therapists, so you don’t need to worry about revealing magic’s existence in order to get some closure.  

“I’ll talk you through the basics later, because we’re getting close to the exit. We need to figure out some other things first, before we get back on the main path and the guards hopefully find us. Like, how do we explain your sudden presence? We can tell Alya and the Mages, of course, but what about the guards and the rest of the world?”

“You should work together with Alya,” Tikki said, excitedly zooming in front of Marinette so she could face her. “I can go see her now and ask her to cast a spell! It will be hard for her to do, but very much worth the effort. With the help of her illusions, Adrien will be ‘recognized’ as another missing visitor to the catacombs, and once you’re both out, you can go to Alya and create a fake ID and whatever else you need to fit in.”

“An ID,” Adrien repeated. He looked adorable when he was confused, Marinette thought.

“It’s basically a card that tells the government who you are. It’s not that bad, I promise!”

Adrien scrunched his eyebrows together. “If you say that it isn’t, milady, then I trust you.”

Tikki smiled. “Great! I’ll go tell Alya, then.” She phased through the catacomb walls and vanished.

“Aww, why can’t we do that?” Marinette asked.

“You could, if you were less mortal and more awesome,” Plagg said with a smirk.

Adrien shot him a glare. “So, I need to pretend to have an ID. What else do I need to know right now?”

Marinette thought for a moment. “Cars! Okay, we’ve made these vehicles that run on gas or electricity and they’re basically mini rooms with seats on wheels, and they move really fast. There are also airplanes, faster ships, and subways and trains. Um, and lightbulbs? Did you have those?”

Adrien shook his head. Marinette sighed.

“They’re like lanterns, but they run on electricity. No big deal.”

“No big deal,” Adrien repeated in disbelief. “Really? It sounds like the Un-Gifted found a way to make their own magic! That’s incredible!” 

Marinette blushed. “I guess it is. Um, other things run on electricity, too; a lot, actually.  I showed you my phone; basically everybody has one now and they do a lot of cool stuff I’ll need more than ten minutes to explain, haha. There are bigger versions called tablets, and then there are laptops and computers, which are even bigger but still similar to phones, and TVs, which are even bigger and mostly show the weather or recorded, uh, plays and musicals. Oh, when we get to the entrance, there will probably be a ton of cameras, which are these devices that basically flash a light at you and take a picture of you, exactly as you are. Like an instant painting!”

“That sounds terrifying,” Adrien said, grabbing her hand. “I didn’t think things would change that much, even if it’s been a couple centuries! Next you’ll tell me they found a way to go into outer space,” he chuckled.

Marinette looked at him with a smirk growing on her face.

“Oh, you have to be joking,” he breathed.

She giggled. “Nope, I’m not! Aaand we’re at the entrance to the main paths, now. Are you ready?”

Adrien squeezed her hand tight. “If you are, milady.”

“Hey, lover-boy,” Plagg said, still not moving from his spot on Adrien’s shoulders, “If you want to get through that nice metal gate facing you, you’re gonna have to let go of her hand.”

“Oh! Right. Plagg, claws out!” Adrien said, dropping her hand with a bashful smile. “Cataclysm.” He touched the gate and it rusted, falling open and letting them pass through it.

“Is that how you got in, the first time?” Marinette asked. “I know you didn’t wait to go in like a normal person.”

Adrien flushed. “Oh, right, the journals. Um. Yes. Why did I ever write that down?” He muttered the last bit to himself, just barely audible.

“Well, it helped you out in the end,” Marinette said. “If it weren’t for your journals, I never would have been able to rescue you.”

“Which I am so grateful for,” Adrien said assuringly. “Have I said that enough times? I don’t think I have. Should I write you a song to say thank you?”

Marinette blushed and tried to distract herself from the romantic implications of writing songs. He’s from the past, it was different back then! “Ooh, you can write songs, too, not just write?”

“I’m a man of many talents,” Adrien smiled. “You could call it a gift.”

Marinette smacked his arm.

He grinned at her and kept walking forward through the tunnels. 

A few meters later, a guard finally spotted them, and they were rushed up to the main building. 

Predictably, the press was there waiting, and Alya was right beside them. Once they got some initial footage, she waved a hand, muttering something under her breath, and the reporters busied themselves with her illusions of interviewing the two rescuees. Adrien watched in awe as Alya stepped out to lead them away from the scene.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it all handled. They’ll think you just fell behind, got lost for a while, but turned around and came back without any real issues,” she told them. “Now. Are you both okay? You’re not hurt?”

Marinette nodded. Now that they were finally out, she felt completely exhausted. “I think we’re fine; no injuries here. Alya, that was so scary,” she cried, throwing her arms around her friend in a tight hug.

“I told you it was dangerous,” Alya said sadly. “I am so glad you’re okay. Tikki told me you found your magic, and defeated the zombies? You found Adrien, too, and resurrected him? Like, that’s insane! Girl, you are something else entirely!” she exclaimed excitedly.

“She is quite amazing,” Adrien agreed, wide-eyed. “If that’s what that means.”

Alya’s lips twitched. “Oh, it’s a good thing Tikki told me to start that illusion,” she said, barely restraining a laugh. “Your clothes would have given you away instantly if I hadn’t been there!”

Adrien frowned and pulled at his suit’s collar. “Yes, after seeing those other men, I can see why. What is the modern fashion these days?”

“It’s a lot comfier, for one thing,” Alya said. “I think you’ll like it.”

Relaxing, Adrien smiled at her. “That’s good to hear. By the way, it seems you both know my name, but I don’t think I know yours,” he said, gesturing at her.

Marinette smiled. “This is Alya, my best friend and head Mage of Trixx. She taught me about the modern Mage community and the finer details of how magic works.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Adrien,” Alya said, offering her hand. “Now, let’s get you up to speed!”

Written for @mlbigbang

[skribblz]

highly recommend frantic fanfic for this descent to chaos

thank you @duckymcdoorknob and @rattypattyy for making me question my whole life lmao

TITLE: Right place, right time.

FEATURING THE CHARACTERS: deku, kool aid man

WRITERS: weiner , uwu, patty

RATED ALL AGES

Or: The five times the thunder scared Izuku, and the one time the Koolaid Man noticed.

———

As the thunder crashed outside, poor Izuku found himself hiding under whatever he could find. When the first bolt clapped, he took refuge under his school desk, palms flat and painful against his ears,

The second time around, he was changing into his pajamas. So, he hid in the darkness of his closet.

The third, he was trying to sleep. He dove under his covers and quivered under the blanket.

The fourth, he deduced that he wouldn’t be able to sleep anymore. He was trying to finish up some homework, so he had nothing to hide under. he buried his head in his hands and cried out s the crashes erupted through the dorms.

The fifth time, he tried to get some water from the kitchen. When the accursed sound once again echoed, the cup fell from his hand and shattered on the floor.

The green haired boy was startled by a gentle voice asking him if he was okay…

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

The cup shatters into millions of pieces as Izuku quivers to the boom bang sound of my heart go beep go bap go nananananna-"

"No-...no..n-not again" the boy whimpers, hands crossed harshly atop his head. Thunder danced its mighty dance as the window flashbanged him every like 10 secs or smth.

As Izuku was counting the neverending seconds, expecting a loud crash through his window, it was replaced with a resounding BOOM SHAKA LAKA!!!!! He opens his eyes slowly, what was that ethereal sound? Was it god? Did his eardrums burst right after hearing such a girthy, resounding bang?

No...he saw...red

Red as red as red could be. The color of roses, of passion.

"OOOOH YEAHHHHHHHHH!" boomed throughout the kitchen. Wow how crazy no one else has awoken yet, must be anime logic.

Izuku wiped his eyes quickly; he must not show any pain, he was the beacon of hope after all. "Oh- hey- Kool-aid man-kun. You can't sleep either?"

"Midoriya! Good to see ya!" Kool-aid-kun smiled his wack disarming, teethless smile. He stomps towards the student, juices sloshing out of the jar he calls his home. He kneels down, eyes suddenly turning serious. "Hey, are you alright? I know I don't have ears but I could hear you crying."

"Y-yeah...I'm okay now that you're here."

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

"That's great, my boy." Kool Aid Man had patted his back. Before Izuku could speak back, he felt as Kool Aid Man's meaty biceps pried his mouth open, "Stay still, my boy, for you shall know what it's like.... to have the oh yeah." And with that, he started to pour his sweet goodness into his mouth, Deku had no time to react, being forced to melt into the sugary goodness, it was like making out with his dolls when he was younger, but this time, with kool aid. He grasped his handle and slowly poured the rest of him into his gullet, he couldn't stop, it was all too good and tasty, the sudden 'Oh Yeahhhhh' and 'Oof sound' filling the empty room.

He.... passed out... Kool Aid Man tipped a hat he found and stolen Deku's Woody doll, was it a dream? Or... real..? Or mayhaps.... all around me are familiar faces..

TITLE: The Midnight Drive

FEATURING THE CHARACTERS: illumi zoldyck, lightning mcqueen

WRITERS: uwu, patty, weiner

RATED ALL AGES

Stars dazzled in the cozy blue sky, warmth ran through the hair, coursing through Illumi's dark locks. The humid breeze combed across the Zoldyck's angular face as his pet car, Lightning Mcqueen raced into the night.

"Oh dear Lightning, your tires they roll so quickly. When I look to the side, all I see are green blurs of the tree tops." The eldest brother poemed.

"Oh thank you master, I work to please you." Mcqueen vroom vroomed with vigor, and once again, Illumi's hair particles are scattered throughout the wind.

"Tell me, what do you think of gingerbread cookies? I am positively dying to know hehe."

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

"I'm a fucking car" Was McQueen's reply, his windshield wipers wiping away any oil that made out he was saddened.

Illumi had turned to notice as he heard the loud scraping of old windshield wipers scratching away his oil,

"Lightning McQueen, my love, I am very sorry, I did not mean to make you cry." He blushed, feeling as his tire crushed his hand in an attempt to grasp onto it, but he didn't care, he loved McQueen, he was the lightning to his kachow, what else more could he want?

"Illumi?" Rattled the car's somehow existent mouth.

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

“Mmm?” The eldest Zoldyck replied, trying to hide remain calm for lightning.

“I want to taste… I want to smell and I want to feel like a human!” Lightning admitted as his tone grew more angry.

Illumi frowned, beginning to of any way that he could help Kightning to meet his dreams.

When the two had parted ways after their encounter, Illumi found himself tirelessly working in the kitchen.

“Since when do you know how to bake, big brother? Killua’s chirping voice echoed through the kitchen.

“I don’t. But, someone special to me needs to be enlightened. So,I’ve spent my morning here.” The eldest brother admitted.

“Oh I see. Have fun” Killua demanded, skipping Round the house.

After four hours of tireless work, Illimi held up a small vial of brown solution.“finally!“

The eldest Zoldyck zooms to find Lightning. He pushed through paparazzi and other cars. “Lightning! Lightnin!” He bellowed, hoping his lover would hear him through the thick crowds

“I’m here, Illu!” Lightning stood on tops of a statue.

“Alright! I’ve got a gift for you.” Illumi announced, holding up the small vial.

Lightning gasped, “you don’t mean…”

“I do! Open up!” The Zoldyck demanded, opening up the race car’s gas cap.

Illumi carefully put some of the solution into the gas tank. Lightning was overwhelmed. His eyes widened as he smiled.

“Can you taste it?” Illumi asked hopefully.

“I can.” Lightning asked as a tear ran down his red cheek.

TITLE: Bikini bottom ginger jeans

FEATURING THE CHARACTERS: shoyo hinata, spongebob

WRITERS: patty, weiner , uwu

RATED ALL AGES

As the morning dawned over, the beautiful world of bikini fucking bottom, had arrived in a new world....

As Sponge of the Bob, woken up, he had thrown Gary outside, because, he has been a bad, bad boy wink. Anywho, he turned to look outside, to see a beautifully short male, playing volleyball in the morning dew...

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

The sponge hid under his window sill as amber eyes met his. His yellow knuckles were still visible as he peered ever so slowly at the person outside of his pineapple.

SpongeBob felt a tinge of bravery. He opened the window and watched as the boy completed his drills and warmups. The sponge was immersed in the orange-haired male’s tactics and behavior. He was not at fall focused on reality, simply staring at the boy.

“Uh… hello?” A mousy voice asked, breaking him from his stare.

Terrified, Spongebob yelped and quickly slammed his window shut. He clutched his spongy heart that was beating out of his chest and hid, praying he hadn’t been caught.

What if he DID get caught? What if the stranger noticed his staring? And what if he had heard the sponge’s inner thoughts this whole time and-“

A knock at the door cut off his thoughts…

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

Sponged bob's non-existent heart leaped out of his chest, so he comically swallows it back into his gut. He was an extrovert sponge, nothing stopped him from socializing. But...this boy...he was just...different.

His shaky hand reached for the door, pushing it open.

Then, he was greeted by the sun itself. Orange hair glowed in the dazzling sunlight, and a smile radiated warmth. It was like...staring into a mirror.

Spungbib smiled in reply, pearly whites that would be quite concerning if found on a sponge shining. Yeah, he flosses. wink, wink.

"Hey sir! Are you into volleyball??" The teen asks, bouncing on his feet. I dont know if theyre underwater, bc if they were tehn hinata would die and if they werent, the sponged bob would die like??????? whatever

"Volleyball? I love volleyball!!!" Spongebob squealed.

"Well...I saw you lookinh through your window and I..." The boy started blushing a bit, juggling the volleyball between his hands. He bits his lips nervously, looking up at the sponge (even tho he's taller) like the cutest puppy. "Would you um....would you be okay with helping me practice?" He shouts! hiding beheind the ball like the shy luttle chihuahua he is.

Spngebob couldnet be happier, he balls his fists and squeaks giddily. "Of course I would!!" But then he too blushes, and starts twiddling his thumbs, "Maybe you can take me out to dinner first...? I would love to get to know you better, I mean!"

Hinata gasps a loud gasp and chokes on his saliva. Spongebob rushes forward in concern, but OH NO he TRIPS-

and falls right on top of the orange-haired male. oh no who couldve seen this coming????

"I- I- I-!"

Suddenly the ball that was thrown up in the air in confusion started its descent towards spongebob's head and he gets bonked. His face slowly gravitates towards his mysterious crush, as if in slo-mo. His lips pucker up as the boy closes his eyes...

Spongebob's lips land right on the teen's forehead.

Both of them blush a pretty shade of red as they shuffle to get off eachother. Both too shocked and embarrassed to say anything for the meantime.

Until one. Break the silence.

"So...what's your name?" Hinata whispers, voice almost lost in the wind.

"Oh- I- My names spongebob." The sponge murmurs huskily. "And you?"

"Hinata, Hinata Shoyo (yo mama)" Hinata stands up and so does the sponge.

they stare at eachothers eyes as the sun sets, colors wisping throughout the sky

and then they shake hands, "whats updog?"

[voiceless-terror]

I’m bad at prompts so I have an aesthetic vibe for a fic: dusty library, silver glasses, warm blanket, hot tea, cold voices.

Jon wants to get Martin’s attention. Daisy and Melanie have an unusual plan.

“I think he’s made it quite clear that he doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“I need...I need to make sure he’s okay. Daisy’s already tried and well, you-”

“Absolutely not.”

“Exactly.”

Jon sighed. He needed to trust Martin, he knew this. But how could he, when he faded more and more each day? When Jon couldn’t reach him, couldn’t know he was safe? He needed to touch him, make sure he was still solid, still there. That Jon still cared. And if Jon could just break through-

“He won’t let me talk to him. And I don’t know what to do.” The words came out more plaintively than he would’ve liked. Melanie gave him an unimpressed look, Daisy leaned back on the couch. He didn’t know why he’d suddenly decided to confess his feelings to these two, perhaps it was the leftover alcohol in his system from their afternoon drink. Basira was off on another lead and Daisy needed the distraction. They all did. And now they were back at the office, bored and lethargic, Jon dodging the paper balls Melanie lazily tossed his way.

“You’ve got to do something,” Daisy drawled, idly picking at her nails. “To get his attention. You’ve got to make him come to you.”

“I don’t know how to do that,” Jon groaned in frustration. “If I did, I would’ve done it already.”

“Wait.” Melanie sat up straighter, a wicked gleam in her eyes. “I know exactly what to do.” Daisy and Jon shared a glance as she broke into a smirk. 

“And Martin won’t be able to resist you.”

____________

“Is this really necessary?” Jon asked, flinching back as Melanie applied the pink-coated brush to his cheek. “It seems a bit excessive.”

“Stop moving. And yes, if you want to look the part.” Melanie wielded the makeup brush like a weapon as Daisy followed with a critical eye. “Does he look pathetic enough?”

“Hmm.” Daisy leaned forward, uncomfortably close to Jon’s face. “I think he needs a bit more. Just a pinch.”

“Agreed.”

“This is ridiculous,” Jon snarked, leaning away from Melanie’s hands. “I don’t know why I agreed to this. It’s not going to work.”

“You agreed to this because you know it’s going to work,” Melanie insisted, dipping the brush in the compact. “Trust me, Martin won’t be able to resist doting on you if you look properly ill. When I came here the second time ‘round, he hovered outside the door the entire time. “Do you need anything, Jon? Can I get you some tea? Are you feeling alright?”

“That’s not what he sounds like-”

“That’s exactly what he sounds like,” Daisy smirked, settling back into the couch. “If you don’t like the makeup, we can always go with option two-”

“I am not letting Melanie punch me, thank you very much.” She still harbored a lot of residual (and rightful, in his opinion) anger from the surgery incident, and he wasn’t willing to be the outlet for it. “How do we know he’ll even see me?”

“He goes down to the library every Wednesday, sneaks in and out real quiet-like,” Daisy repeated for the third time. “Trust me, I know his patterns.” There was still some Hunt in her yet, no matter how much she starved it. Listen to the quiet. He didn’t say it aloud, but from the look in Daisy’s eyes he didn’t need to. “We’ll set you up there. Don’t worry, he won’t be able to miss you.”

“Whatever you say,” he grumbled, batting away Melanie’s hand. “Are you done yet?” She evaluated him with a scowl.

“That should do it.” She shut the compact with a definitive snap. “I was going to add a bit of purple eyeshadow under the eyes, but that might be overdoing it. You already look like a zombie.”

Daisy nodded appreciatively. “Powder did the job. God, Melanie. You’re a pro.”

“Thank you,” she preened as Jon rolled his eyes. “Now, for the finishing touch!” She leaned forward, yanking the scrunchie out of his hair and ignoring his yelp with an air of satisfaction. “Perfect!”

“I fail to see why that was necessary!” His head ached from the sudden pull on his hair, which was now falling down his shoulders in a tangled, ruffled mess. God, I must look insane. He lifted a hand to put it in some semblance of order when Melanie grabbed at it, stopping him in his tracks.

“No, you’ll ruin it!” she snapped. “Martin likes it when it’s down.”

“How do you know that?”

“God, he really is oblivious,” Daisy said with a disbelieving chuckle. “I may have only visited a few times, but even I saw the way he stared at you whenever you so much as touched your hair. It was sickening to watch.”

“C’mon, we’ve got to get you settled. We have to time this perfectly.” Melanie gestured impatiently for him to get up. “Daisy’ll take you up. I’ve got to grab something.” Jon didn’t trust her but in all honesty, what did he have to lose? The things we get up to when Basira’s gone...though I suppose this is significantly better than the Coffin Incident. 

Daisy took his arm, leaning on him for a bit of support as they made their way up to the library. To anyone else it would look the opposite, that he was the one relying on her- Daisy was good at hiding her weakness. “There’s a couch by the front desk,” she murmured as they rounded the corner. “It’ll be right in his line of vision.”

“What if he isn’t paying attention?” Jon worried, watching as the other staff studiously avoided their gaze, side-stepping them in the hallway. The Archives were truly toxic, and no one wanted to anger the heavily-scarred, scowling Archivist and his rabid ex-cop friend. For the first time in his life, Jon was intimidating. He didn’t like it.

“He always pays attention to you,” Daisy insisted. “He just doesn’t want you to see it.” The words put a lump in his throat. He wondered if they were true. He opened his mouth to reply when Melanie scurried up behind them, her arms full of-

“No.”

“Yes.” Melanie pushed into him, impatiently urging them forward. “Trust me, it’ll work.”

“I am not-” He was cut off by a surprisingly strong push from Daisy, landing him on the couch with an ‘oof.’ Melanie threw the offending object around his shoulders- a fluffy pink blanket Jon recognized from its place on Basira’s cot. He tried to worm his way out of it but Melanie gave him a sharp slap on the arm, ignoring his hiss of pain. He looked around, wildly embarrassed by the entire situation to find that the room was strangely empty, which was surprising for the time of day. I suppose everyone’s trying to avoid us these days.

Daisy froze, her eyes narrowing and posture straightening. “He’s coming.”

Melanie swore, running around the corner and coming back with an old, heavy tome she'd snatched off the nearest shelf. She grinned, an almost manic thing that Jon instinctively leaned back from. “The final touch,” she said proudly, not waiting for his answer as she opened the book with a flourish, flipping the pages in front of his face like a fan. He flinched back, utterly confused.

“Melanie, what on earth are you-”

_______

Martin heard him before he saw him.

The scurrying of feet across the hardwood was strange enough, but Jonathan Sims sitting on the library’s best couch, sneezing into a fluffy blanket and looking bleary-eyed and very exhausted was even stranger. Well, not the exhausted part. That was Jon’s normal state of being. 

But there he sat, wrapped in Basira’s fluffy pink blanket with a flushed face, messy hair, and an ashen pallor that could only come from sickness. Martin had seen it before, back when he lived in Document Storage and Jon was working himself into the ground, much like he was doing nowadays. He felt that pang of worry that accompanied those long nights in the Archives, something he was trying desperately to tamp down.

Working for Peter was infuriating and isolating, just as it was supposed to be. He was constantly reminding himself that it was for the greater good, that he was doing something important, protecting his friends. Protecting Jon. But how could he protect him when he kept finding Martin, even though he promised to trust him? How could he protect him when he kept throwing himself headlong into any danger he could find? How could he protect him, when his biggest enemy was himself?

Another sneeze. Jon looked almost confused by it, maybe even offended that it happened. It made him want to smile, an urge he fought down as he tried to remember Peter’s promise to keep them safe if he kept his distance. He hazarded one last glance, sure that he wasn’t in Jon’s line of sight that he noticed one last detail- Jon’s sweater. Incredibly baggy, worn, light blue knit- a color he’d never seen on him before.

Martin’s sweater. And with that, he found himself walking over to Jon almost involuntarily, steps loud and purposeful as they startled Jon from his perch on the couch. And when Jon noticed him he smiled, so bright and happy and obviously extremely out of it if he was having this reaction to Martin. His face really did look flushed up close- he must have a fever, especially if he wandered up here in this state. Martin successfully resisted the urge to feel his forehead. 

“M-Martin!” God, how could he not talk to Jon, when he said his name with such happiness? He fought to keep his voice level and cool as he responded.

“Jon. What are you doing up here?” Jon’s smile dimmed slightly, and Martin tried not to feel guilty. He did not succeed.

“I, um-” Jon stuttered, his usual sign of nervousness as he ran a hand through his hair. His hair, that was mused and tangled and falling in his face. Fuck. “I w-was reading.” He struggled to pick up a particularly heavy-looking book from where it sat on the couch next to him, its title obscured from Martin’s view. “It was getting, er, a bit stuffy down in the Archives.”

A red flag if Martin ever saw one. They rarely left the Archives these days, unless it was for a quick lunch and even then, Jon had to be dragged out bodily. He sighed, trying not to meet Jon’s pleading eyes. And still, he couldn’t help but ask. “Are you...okay?”

Jon looked down to his lap, the blanket half slipping off his shoulders as he fidgeted with his hands. Martin looked pointedly away. “Not feeling very well,” Jon murmured to the ground, looking strangely nervous, maybe even guilty. That didn’t make sense. He must be really ill, if he’s actually admitting to it. Martin hesitated, fighting between what he should do and what he really, really wanted to do. The cold evaporated just a little and Martin had never felt so seen. 

He missed that.

And so, less reluctantly than he would have liked, he extended a hand down to Jon, who looked at it in shock. “C’mon. Let’s get you back downstairs, I’ll make tea.” Make tea. His solution for everything, he remembered Tim deriding. But Jon looked at him like he’d offered much, much more than that. Maybe he had. The hope in his eyes was too much to bear. So when Jon put a thin, scarred hand in his, he looked away, even as he helped him to his feet.

To his disdain and delight, Jon immediately leaned into his side, as if trying to leech warmth that Martin couldn’t provide. In fact it was now Jon who was the warmer of the two- the Eye would not accept the chill of the Lonely, and the fever probably didn’t help. He was like a touch-starved cat looking for a crumb of affection, and god did he want to give it to him. If it were the Martin of a year ago he would have blushed, stammered, maybe even squeezed him back. Now he can only offer him the shoulder, nothing more.

Jon didn’t say anything more than a muttered thanks as they made their way down to the Archives, as if he were afraid of spooking him. More than one staff member they saw stared; Martin had been AWOL except for a few official emails, and was now suddenly the assistant to the head of the institute. To see him with the dreaded Head Archivist must have been even more of a shock. He felt pity- what a pair we make.

By the time they arrived at the archives, Jon had leant almost all of his weight against Martin’s side, making it difficult to maneuver them both down the stairs. No one was there, and he wanted to scold the other three, wherever they were, for leaving Jon to wander in his condition. I’ll fix him tea, get him on the cot and then I’ll go, he promised himself. 

Easier said than done.

He barely managed to pry Jon off of him, and only with the promise to return with a cup of tea did he let go. Never in his wildest daydreams did he imagine Jon to be this clingy, hanging off him like a limpet. As he made his way to the break room he drew the Lonely back to him like a security blanket, albeit a cold one. You can’t stay. You have to go. He looked blankly around the room he used to think of as a safe haven; it was no longer familiar, different mugs on the table, different food in the cupboards, a bag of makeup on the counter. He no longer had a place. 

Jon was sitting up on the cot when he arrived back, cup of tea in hand. He pointedly didn’t meet his eyes as he handed it over, staring at his feet and ignoring Jon’s thanks as he turned to leave. Go go go-

“Wait!”

Damn it.

He turned. “What is it, Jon? I have to-”

“Will you stay?” His face was so open, so vulnerable it made Martin ache with longing. “Just- just for a bit.”

Martin sighed, trying to maintain his stoic façade. “You know I can’t.”

“I miss you.”

“Jon-”

“I know, I know,” Jon replied, voice going quiet. He thought dying would harden the man, but it only seemed to soften his sharp edges. “I’m sorry.” He held the mug between his hands, staring down like it was something precious.

“It’s fine,” Martin replied, though they both knew it wasn’t.

“Will you stay if I don’t talk?” Jon leveled that hopeful gaze at him again and Martin looked up to the ceiling for divine intervention that wouldn’t come. 

“Jon-”

“Please.” He was begging. His eyes were bright, whether from tears or the fever Martin couldn’t discern. But what was he to do, say no? Not when he was like this, not when he was sick. Martin made excuses, none of them particularly convincing even to himself and they certainly wouldn’t be to Peter, but it didn’t matter. He’d already made his choice as soon as Jon said the word.

“Okay. For a bit.” That smile again. Jon said nothing as Martin tentatively sat beside him on that small, rickety cot. He would only stay for a bit, until Jon fell asleep. He had no one to look after him, after all. He would go back up and face Peter later. 

For now, he let Jon rest his head against his shoulder. He let his fingers rise of their own accord and brush the hair from Jon’s face, eliciting a shiver. When he fell asleep, Martin didn’t move. He needs the rest. So he sat, reveling in the warm, heavy weight of everything he’d given up, everything he stood to lose, and knew he made the right decision.

Much later, when he’s faced Peter’s disappointed gaze and a mountain of extra work, he notices the strange, powdery cast on his sleeve from where Jon had laid his head. When he rubs at it, his fingers come back with hints of pink and white. It takes him a moment to put the pieces together- the footsteps in the library, the absence of Daisy and Melanie, the makeup on the counter. He wants to roll his eyes, wants to be angry.

Instead, for the first time in months, he laughs.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28581141

[song-tam]

The Prince and the Thief - Chapter One: That Fateful Bag of Gold - Tam x Keefe

A/N: Yes it is back, I am back with the series, I’m finally publishing the first official chapter and not just the prologue. I’m way too excited for this and I can’t believe I actually finished the chapter, it dragged on forever. Oh, and yes, the girl in the glasses is Sophie, even though they don’t know it yet, and she will come into play later on in the series, so be prepared for that. 

Word Count: 1.3K

Warnings: minor curse words, being disinherited, mentions of and attempts at stealing, Tam’s a little bit angsty, being pinned down, mentions of being tied up, mentions of Cassius Sencen—I think I got them all, but tell me if there are any other warnings I should add!

Prologue | Series Masterlist

“Did you hear about King Cassius disinheriting the young prince? His own son!”

Crown Prince Keefe Sencen—or just regular Keefe now, he supposed—stiffened at the gossip from the passerby. He didn’t particularly enjoy being reminded that he’d been stripped of his royal title, his crown, everything he’d ever known. He’d never liked his father, sure, Keefe was glad to be away from him, but life in the palace… that was all he knew. He didn’t know how the outside world worked. He didn’t know how to survive on the streets. He didn’t know any skills that might actually be useful. And yet here he was—no protection, having only the clothes on his back and a small bag of gold. 

Here, without a crown, Keefe was about as wanted and important as a dead rat.

Keefe sighed and started making his way down the street, anxious to get away from it all, figuring he’d find a tavern to stay the night and figure it out from there. He had enough gold for that, right? Problem was, Keefe had no idea where the hell he would find a tavern, or really where anything was in the kingdom.

Keefe groaned softly, dragging a hand down his face. “I’m doomed.”

         ༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺   ༻✧༺　༻✦༺  ༻✧༺

Tam Song had found a new target--and boy, was this one going to be easy.

The boy could have barely been older than Tam, maybe sixteen, seventeen at most. He was tall, blond, and completely out of place out on the streets. From the crisp white tunic and and clueless expression on his face, Tam could easily tell that he was a highborn. Maybe a count’s son, or even a duke’s.

What a member of high society would be doing in one of the worst parts of Erisdell, Tam had no idea, but so long as he got his money, he didn’t give a shit.

The boy had a bag--probably filled with some silver, if Tam was lucky, gold--strapped to his belt. He wasn’t bothering to protect it or even put up his guard. Typical.

“Highborns like you are just asking to get robbed in the slums,” Tam muttered as he started maneuvering through a crowd, flexing his fingers, ready to grab the loot and sneak away before the boy even noticed it was missing.

Tam reached for the bag, wrapping his hand around it, and--

“Oof!” A girl with blond hair suddenly bumped into Tam, who went flying into the boy and all three of them were sprawled into a pile on the ground.

“Watch it,” Tam hissed at the blonde, who nodded clumsily and started feeling around for her glasses, which had flown off her face when they’d all collided.

“I am so, so sorry,” the girl squeaked out as she scrambled to her feet, and promptly ran away.

Muttering to himself, Tam started dusting his pants and getting ready to make a narrow escape. The girl had complicated things, but he could still steal the money and get out of there. He’d be one step closer to getting Linh back.

A hand grabbed his wrist and Tam jumped, sure it was one of the kingdom patrols in charge of wrangling up Erisdell’s thieves. Tam was good at what he did and he knew how not to get caught, but he’d still had a few encounters with patrols and he wasn’t looking for one now.

But it was only the boy, still on the ground, but glaring at Tam and glancing at the bag in his hand. “That’s mine,” he said gruffly. “You’re a thief.”

Tam rolled his eyes. This was getting more complicated than Tam wanted, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle. If he timed it right, he could still get out of here--and worst case, he probably could take this highborn, though throwing hands would draw more attention than wanted. “Obviously, I’m a thief.”

The boy seemed taken aback that Tam had admitted to it, but nodded curtly. “Well, now that I’ve caught you, you can’t steal my gold anymore. So give me my bag and go pickpocket someone else.”

Oh my God, if he stays here in the slums, he’ll be dead within the week.

Tam didn’t care, though. Whether this boy lived or died didn’t matter to him. It may have been a coldhearted mindset, but it kept him alive. He couldn’t afford to worry about anyone but himself--he was just trying to survive, and maybe if just kept going, he’d find someplace better than this. He’d get out of the slums, if he was lucky out of Erisdell, and he’d make a new life for himself. Leave his past behind and get a better future than the present he was living in.

He’d find Linh again.

But for all of that to happen, he’d need money. And that bag was one step closer to everything he wanted.

Besides, a highborn like this boy didn’t know how to appreciate money. Tam stealing his gold might reflect badly on him, but at the end of the day, what did he care? Daddy probably had a vault full of gold somewhere in a fancy manor. This was barely a dent in his fortune.

“You’ve got plenty of money,” Tam muttered, trying to worm out of the boy’s grasp. “I need this more than you.”

“This is all I have left,” the boy replied, his eyes narrowing.

“You expect me to believe that? This time next year, you’ll probably be inheriting a fortune, a dukedom. This bag of gold is worthless--”

“It’s not worthless to me. I need it. It’s all I have left,” The boy wrenched the bag of gold from Tam’s grip, getting to his feet and glowering even harder.

Tam blinked--it had been a while since someone had gotten the better of him--but quickly regained his senses and dodged for the bag. The boy moved out of the way, and they kept at this dance for a minute or so, Tam trying to steal and the boy trying to avoid being stolen from.

Is this really worth it? A voice inside Tam’s head whispered. There are other pockets to pick. This’ll attract unwanted attention.

Yes. Tam gritted his teeth. Nobles like the boy, they didn’t show up in the slums often. Money like this, in this part of Erisdell… it was scarce. But if Tam had a chance to get his hands on some gold, no matter how small the amount, he sure as hell was going to take it.

Whatever it took.

         ༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺   ༻✧༺　༻✦༺  ༻✧༺

Keefe wondered why this guy was so adamant about stealing from him.

He understood the dude was a thief, but surely there were easier targets?

Then again, after living in the palace and being coddled for so long with no survival skills, he was easy a target as any.

Could he make a run for it? Or the patrols! There were many patrols that had been placed in the slum sectors of Erisdell, specifically to catch thieves and keep everything in order as much as possible. Problem was, there didn’t seem to be any patrols around.

“I--” Keefe started to say, but he was suddenly pinned to the ground. He thought it might’ve somehow been the boy, but Keefe turned his head to the side and noticed the boy was also on the ground, scowling.

“Who the hell are you?” the boy snapped.

Keefe heard someone cluck their tongue behind him, though he couldn’t see their face. “Now, that is no way to talk to your former boss, is it, Tam?”

All color drained from the boy’s--Tam’s--face. “You,” he hissed. “I told you I was done stealing for you, and I won’t do it again, not after--”

“Calm down,” the voice said relaxedly. “I wouldn’t take you back anyway. I’m just going to give you a warning--my targets are mine and mine alone. You can still scavenge like the street dog you were before I made you something, but those big targets… you don’t get to go anywhere near them.”

“Tie them up,” the voice commanded to whoever was holding Keefe and Tam down. “Leave them in an alley. If they’re lucky, someone will find them.”

“And if they aren’t, well… problem solved.”

Taglist: @stardustanddaffodils @dreaminq-out-loud @sunset-telepath @summer-waves9764 @thoserainyrainboots@thatonewhalewatcher @jenniecrushed @jaxtheshade @beautifuldaysahead​ @bianavacker-is-bi-as-hell @real-smooth@scribblesnsketches05 @the-sky-isnt-blueee@spreadyourwingsandfly @cadence-talle @linhamon2​ @xonar-verse​ @an-absolute-travesty​ @hershis-kotlc​ @turquoise-skyyyy​ @blxckh0les42​ @completekeefitztrash​ @gay-paladin-of-etheria​ @the-robins-chronicles​ @the-genius-behind-the-mask​ @the-angel-of-all-storms​ @bluemallowmelt​ 

[rosecorcoranwrites]

Censorship and Banning Books

As I mentioned in my last Rant Rave Review, as of last Monday, six books by Dr. Seuss are now officially out-of-print, and they are out of print due to supposedly racist, offensive, and/or stereotypical images. The company that owns the rights to these books is no longer publishing them and some websites are no longer selling them. People who do own the books, or who swooped into stores and bought them the day of the announcement, are now selling them for hundreds or thousands of dollars. So, what are we to make of all this?

Is Dr. Seuss Racist?

There are actually three questions here: is the man racist, are his books racist, and are those images racist? The answer to the first is, he kinda was, and then he got over it. During the war, he was openly against the Japanese, and in favor of the internment camps, then went to Japan during the occupation and realized, hey, maybe these are just people. Apparently, he wrote Horton Hears a Who in response to the US occupation and dedicated it to a Japanese friend. People can change, if you let them.

Okay, well, what about his books? This is an obvious "no". Race basically doesn't come up in Dr. Seuss stories, except "The Sneetches", which is actively against racism. Which, in some people's fevered imaginations, makes it racist. Yes, in some Olympic-level mental gymnastics, saying that whatever race you are isn't important, ie being against "racial essentialism" means that you are a racist. Such people think that the story doesn't address "structures of power" and "systemic oppression". This is true. It's instead a story about a sleazy businessman who goes in and preys on existing racial biases in order to make a buck, constantly telling people to think of their identities in terms of their outward appearance. You'd think the racial essentialists would appreciate the representation.

But I digress.

What about the images themselves? Are they racist? Not having seen all of them, I can't say for sure, but some are definitely cringy. Take the yellow skinned "Chinaman who eats with sticks" in And to Think That I Saw It on Mulberry Street. Though one could argue that the entire book uses only five colors: yellow, red, blue, and touches of purple and green, this man is the only human whose skin is colored at all. Later editions of this book have actually changed the image and text:

Honestly, I think this is fine. The meter still scans, and the image isn't straight-up removed. I mean, we could maybe discuss whether it's okay to alter an author's work, but he was alive when at least one of these these changes was made, so I think he allowed it.

Next we have some from If I Ran the Zoo, like this one, of some Asian dudes who "all wear their eyes at a slant":

I think, in this case, the text is the problem, but not the picture. Though some describe this image as "exotified", I think it's more just exaggerated, as are most of Dr. Seuss's characters. He doesn't do things half way. Aside from that, the picture is kind of cute and silly; nothing in it is derogatory or mean to the helpers. The text on the other hand... oof. Yeah, I would say this is a true example of something "offensive". I could see changing that (as long as the meter still scans!).

And then there are the fellows holding the tufted mazurka:

That's pretty bad. So bad that as a child, I don't think I actually registered that those were supposed to be humans, but rather other Seussian creatures. It doesn't help, again, that in his color pallet, people that would ordinarily be brown are now black-black, not unlike the most racist images of yesteryear. But the fact that their lips are left uncolored, I think, is what gets me. It's a little too close to black-face for comfort. Again, I think it would be okay to alter the image: color in their lips, change the shading. I know some people quibble with their costume, but some peoples do wear little amounts of clothing, so I don't think thats the issue here.

I can't speak to the other books, because I haven't seen those pictures, but I would say, yeah, some of the images and phrasing are problematic. I don't think that means the books are racist. Seuss isn't saying the Asian helpers or the African mazurka wranglers are less than the white child running the zoo. He is exotifying them to some degree, but the degree to which that is being done can, I believe, be fixed with very minor alterations.

Should the Books Be Banned?

Again, I think there are a couple questions here: are these books being banned, and should they be banned?

In our increasingly-willing-to-cancel culture, people like to talk about the difference between government censorship vs. corporate censorship, which is a valid topic. But when it comes to huge corporations like Amazon banning books from their website for hate speech or Ebay halting the ability of vendors to sell certain titles on their platform, to say "it’s a private corporation, so it's not censorship" is disingenuous. Maybe it doesn't violate the First Amendment, but it is censorship. A single bookstore refusing to sell a book, a single library refusing to carry a book, is censorship.

A single company that owns the rights to a book refusing to sell it is 100% censorship. I'm personally offended by the idea of any book being out-of-print in the day and age of print-on-demand, but I'm especially sickened when companies pull this nonsense. This is similar to foreign companies who refuse to publish novels, games, and videos in English copyright striking fanlations; they are not losing money, so why do they care?

In the case of the Seuss estate, or whoever owns the rights, all that they are doing is denying poor people access to books. That's right, if you can shell out $786 for a children's book, you can read these delightful stories. What's that? You're a single mom who works two jobs? Well, sucks to be you.

What's really vile is that people are saying, "It's only six books. You still have the others." First off, this is admitting that those six books are now censored and unavailable. Secondly, this is a stupid argument. It's like saying, "Well, the Nazi's didn't burn every book in Germany. There were plenty of others." What if I wanted to read the ones that were burned?

And that brings us to the question of whether or not those books ought to be banned. Heck, should they even be altered? Some of you might have balked at my saying I was fine with the images being changed; isn't that censorship? I think that would take it's own blog post, but here I'll just say that I don't think the changes I discussed would really alter the content, message, or meaning of the work. That being said, I don't think you have to change the images either.

That is, I think it's okay to publish, purchase, own, and read problematic material. As many commentators have pointed out, no child is going to be made into a racist by reading these books or seeing these images. Any racist or even iffy overtones are going to go right over their heads unless parents point them out. If, in the one in a million chance, your child actually notices anything wrong with the images, like "why is his skin yellow?" or something, then you can have a conversation about how sometimes, back in the day, people drew some not-so-nice pictures of Asian people and thought their skin should be painted as yellow, but we don't do that anymore, but this book was written a long time ago, etc etc. If they ask about what a Chinaman is, say it's an old word for a Chinese person, but you should never say it, because it can hurt people's feelings. Talk to your children; it isn't hard.

Should Any Books Be Banned

If you've been paying attention to what's been happening in book land lately, you'll know that Dr. Seuss's books are not the first to be put on the chopping block. Last year, Abigail Shrier's book, Irreversible Damage: The Transgender Craze Seducing Our Daughters, was removed from Target due to requests of trans activists. It was returned after backlash. Now I think it might be banned again? Who can even keep up anymore. Similarly, When Harry Became Sally: Responding to the Transgender Moment, by Ryan T. Anderson, has now been removed from Amazon for being "hate speech".

In the microcosm of the library world, I've had some people take issue with certain controversial books. When processing our new books, my part-timer picked up Irreversible Damage and asked, "Did someone request this?" as if we shouldn't have ordered it if they didn't. Both that book, and White Fragility: Why It's So Hard for White People to Talk About Racism, by Robin DiAngelo, were face out in our new book area, since they were the newest books. The former was turned backwards or put spine out with the older books multiple time by patrons, the latter turned backwards once. During the election, I found books for and against Trump hidden behind other books.

My question for people who do this in the library, and for corporations who do essentially the same thing on a massive scale, is who exactly do you think you are helping? Do you think anyone's mind is going to be changed on Trump? Or transgenderism, or white fragility, just by reading a book?

If the answer is "no", then why bother banning or hiding them? If the answer is yes, then that means you think books have the power to change minds, but you want to deny that opportunity to people. Rather than debating ideas, or writing a better book, or showing people why they shouldn't think a certain way, people are increasingly trying to banish certain ideas entirely. How dare an author question X, Y, or Z idea? How dare people be allowed to have an opinion different from the one we say they should!

What's so frustrating about cancel culture and censorship is that people think they really are trying to do the right thing. What they don't realize is, the people they cancel also think they are doing the right thing.

Take Irreversible Damage: obviously, those that want it banned think that trans kids will be hurt by the ideas expressed in the book, that they will be denied hormones and surgeries and so forth. I'm sure Abigail Shrier believes that trans kids would be hurt by no one examining the idea of wether or not they should be given hormones and surgeries as minors. Both sides care about kids. Both sides are trying to figure out how to help people. If you think that Shrier is wrong and her book is dangerous, then write a more compelling argument explaining why she's wrong.

An example of the right way to go about this is with White Fragility, a book that some people see as problematic, if not racist against white people or black people or both. People have written books specifically refuting the ideas in the book. Others have compiled titles that handle race more tactfully and that can be read instead. And that's the thing; you can choose what to read. You can choose never to read a book deemed problematic, but you have no right to take that choice away from other people.

Where Do Libraries Fall Into All This?

That "right to read" is one of the pillars or librarianship. The reason libraries exist is so that all people, regardless of money, have equal access to books, movies, and other aspects of our shared culture. We librarians understand that books are important not just for education, but also entertainment and escape. Stories are how we as humans process ideas, and everyone has a right to expose themselves to ideas--even controversial or dangerous or flat out wrong ones. They have the right to examine different sides of an issue and form their own conclusions. To try and control what a person reads is to try and control what they think, and no government or corporation has that right.

Thus, libraries don't ban books, wether those books are literary classics, modern treatises on current events and ideologies, or silly picture books by Dr. Seuss.

So it was with some concern that I got an email saying that our county library district would be taking the six Seuss books in question out of circulation. The rationale was that, given that a single book was selling for hundreds or thousands of dollars, some sticky-fingered patrons might steal then from the shelves or "lose" them after checking them out.

Though this logic was sound, I still had misgivings, especially because of incidences of library censorship in the past. Yes, even libraries have not been immune to the scourge. During the Cold War, some libraries would keep books about communism behind the reference desk so that people would have to ask to read them in the library. Not only did this potentially help identify commies, it also discouraged people from reading the books.

Thus, when our new policy is to keep the Seuss books "at the desk" and only let them be read in the library, is that not censorship? Is this accidental censorship, or perhaps intended by the very cancel culturists who want all problematic books to be sent down the memory hole?

No, I don't think it is, because--despite what the very mob who’s in favor of all of this would have you believe--intention matters. Reasons matter. We are not trying to make the books harder to read; we're trying to keep the books from becoming impossible to read. By protecting the books from theft, we're ensuring that the poor as well as the rich can enjoy Dr. Seuss's stories. This, in my mind, is similar to chained up bibles: it looks bad, until you remember that books were rare and expensive, and illuminated manuscripts even more so. If someone steals a book, no one gets to read it, but if a book is under lock and key, some people still can.

Of course, everyone could, if companies would simply stop censoring books, if stores would stop banning them, and if well-intentioned but short-sighted activists would stop digitally burning them. But maybe that's too much to hope for at present. For now, we librarians will have the books safe and sound for when you want to read them. You have only to ask.

[leviskokoro]

summary｜The espionage group consisting of Mari, Grimm, Ruggie, Leona, Kalim, and Jamil are in need of assistance in order to pull off the plan to take back the magic stone stolen from them by fairies. Fortunately, help has arrived in the form of a worldwide supermodel.

word count｜3385

credit goes to @wakaoujisenhime​ for giving me the idea to write this!

“Are you saying these guys will be performing during the fashion show? Perhaps you mistook it for a vegetable competition.” 

“Puppies, it’s time for training!” 

“You guys are…!” 

And with those words, Mari knew they were in for a ride. Then again, she did expect this to happen as soon as the Headmaster had explained the situation to her. It seemed like it’d be fun, like an espionage mission for the spy movies she used to watch in her world. How exciting! 

“Vil! And Sir Crewel!” Kalim exclaimed with a grin. 

“With our support, you guys will definitely become the stars of the fashion show,” Vil spoke as he gazed at the group with a judgemental glint in his lilac eyes. He glanced at the teacher beside him, smirking. “Right, Sir Crewel?” 

“Of course, Schoenheit.” 

The both of them chuckled. 

“The two most troublesome people are here,” Ruggie said, ears folded and eyebrows furrowed. 

“Jamil, you asshole. Do you know what you’ve done?” Leona growled, glaring daggers at him. 

“I also thought this was a tough decision.” Said boy wore his usual level-headed expression. “Top model Vil and fashionista Sir Crewel. If those two coached us, we could beat this challenge. But in order to make this show a success as amateurs, I could only seek help from them.”

“There’s no one better suited for the job than them,” Mari spoke up, shrugging. It was true. Vil was the one that had always been seen working relentlessly to maintain his beauty and Sir Crewel was known for his talent when it came to fashion. It was impossible to think of anyone else that would rival them in their fields in NRC. 

“As expected of Scarabia’s dorm head, he’d do literally anything to achieve his goal. How amazing…” The hyena muttered under his breath. 

“Distract the queen-- No, distract the entire audience then snatch the crown away in the meantime. “The title of this operation will be “Monopolize both the crown and their attention”! I will make this a success!” Vil exclaimed, a smirk of pure confidence on his handsome face. The girl often wished she had just an ounce of his self-confidence. Maybe then life would be easier for her. 

“Ugh, what a pain…” Leona grumbled.  

“Alright. First of all, you guys should have matching costumes,” Crewel told them. 

“Would that include us? Ruggie, Grimm, and I won’t really be participating in the fashion show,” Mari asked, raising her hand as if she’s in class. 

“Of course! You may not be part of it, but you still need proper clothes in order to sneak in,” he answered. “Entering a formal venue with dirty fur is unacceptable for my puppies.” 

Right. Good point. 

“Be grateful. I’ll make the most exotic and most exquisite costumes of all time.” Their teacher smirked. “I’ll be the one to make you guys stand out the most!” 

And so it had begun. The group had been subjected to wearing countless fabrics to find the perfect one to use. Crewel got to work designing their costumes. 

Bursts of sparkles enveloped them, then dissipated to reveal them in the costumes their teacher had designed for them. Everyone was dressed in pristine white clothes with floral patterns and flowers in their hair. 

“How’s that? You could clearly see a bunch of puppies with gorgeous fur.” Crewel was satisfied with his own work, smiling at them. 

“As expected of our teacher,” Vil commented, also smiling in appreciation of the craftsmanship. “The color is not too outstanding in order to draw out their own beauty, very stoic and kinda mysterious. The endless longing for the unknown, that is the true meaning of exotic.” 

“Hmm. It’s easier to get along with someone who understands fashion like you,” the teacher said, glancing at him.

It’s nice that they were enjoying themselves, at least. Mari giggled lightly as she twirled in her dress. The light fabric was easy to move in and felt comfortable. If they ever needed to run, it wouldn’t hold her back at all. Their teacher probably considered this. She looked at the mirror to see how she looked and it’s fair to say that his work was amazing. It made her feel… otherworldly. She already was from another world but to look the part was a different matter. 

“We’ve tried on different clothes again and again…” Jamil crossed his arms, eyebrows furrowed in irritation. His lips pulled downwards. 

“I’m already tired and training hasn’t even started yet,” Ruggie sighed, closing his eyes. His ears were folded. 

“Is that right? Designing costumes is always like this. Right, Leona?” Kalim spoke up, turning to the beastman prince. 

“Kind of…” Leona crossed his arms as well, seeming disinterested in the situation. 

“I think the trouble was worth it. Sir Crewel certainly did a fantastic job,” Mari commented as she stared at the floral lacing that ran across her waistline, fingers delicately tracing over it. A small smile graced her lips. 

“It’s too early to be relieved,” Vil told her. “If the people wearing these clothes don’t act in a proper manner, the silk shirts they’re wearing might as well just be sack rags.”

“To become the center of attention on the fashion show, we must have some sort of performance.” He smiled. “A gorgeous walk with a gorgeous performance. Both of these are necessary.” 

“First, I’ll have you guys show me your style of walking.” 

Leona smirked. “All we have to do is walk? It’s so easy that I could do it in my sleep.” 

Jamil rubbed his chin, a thoughtful look on his features. “If we’re too self-conscious, we might wander off at some point.” 

Kalim gave a light laugh. It was as if he was the sun, radiating warmth. “No need to be nervous. Just relax and do it.”

Soon enough, the three were put to the test and let the model judge their skill. 

“Very unexpected. I never thought that you could walk elegantly,” Vil said. “Impressive, Jamil.” 

Said boy smirked. “It’s my honor to receive such praise from you, Vil.” 

He turned to Scarabia’s dorm leader with a smile. “Kalim had a very noble posture. The education from your hometown has been beneficial for you.” 

Kalim chuckled. “Is that so? Hehehe, I’m kinda embarrassed. Though, I only have great posture thanks to my love of dancing and not from the education I learned.” 

“It’s true. Kalim had been learning traditional dances ever since he was a kid, while I took an interest in street dancing,” Jamil said, his lips pulled upwards. Nostalgia glinted in his eyes. 

“I see. So that’s why you guys have such trained bodies.” Vil was clearly pleased with the two. Then, he frowned and turned to Leona, deciding to finally address the elephant in the room. Er, lion in the room. “Compared to that… Leona, what’s with your lame walking?” He glared at him. 

“Ah? It’s the same as those Scarabia guys.” He closed his eyes, crossing his arms. 

“It’s not the same at all. Jamil’s light step, Kalim’s nobility. You have neither of those,” he berated him, giving him an icy glare. “Your feet are dragging along the floor and you have atrocious posture. Your head was swaying as you were walking. It feels like your shoulders are cutting through the wind. It’s very boorish!”

“The title of prince sounds incredulous to me.” 

“How ironic that the feline can’t catwalk…” Mari mumbled. 

“He literally just criticized Leona.” Ruggie’s eyes widened in shock. 

“Schoenheit,” Crewel spoke up, “For a useless dog like him, shouldn’t we train him to walk on two legs first? If we let him be, it’d be like letting a newborn kitten walk on the runway.”

“Indeed,” the model agreed with him, a troubled expression on his flawless features. “Having Leona perform when he doesn’t even have the basis of walking is kinda hard. If we can’t handle both at the same time, then we should focus on walking.” 

He sighed. “I hate to admit it, but he has a commanding aura that could make him the main model. It’d be a waste if we don’t utilize that.” 

“Scarabia got 100 points for walking. So now, try challenging the dancing part.” Vil gave his underclassmen a pleasant smile. “You guys will have the role of making the festival livelier. Your performance could also make the shitty main model stand out more.”

“Ah, we must follow Schoenheit’s plan to fill the hole that Kingscholar built,” Crewel said. 

“Leona is so hopeless. I wonder if the both of us can cover him well.” Jamil rubbed his chin in thought. 

“Let’s do our best! I already promised Leona that I’m going to take care of him.” Kalim, the little cinnamon roll, had a look of determination on his face. 

“As a student from Savanaclaw, I feel so ashamed. I’m so sorry that he’s such a troublesome leader.” Ruggie sighed. 

Man, they were all roasting him so much. Mari bit her lip, trying not to laugh at the situation as she didn't wanna be mean to him. 

“I could also be your coach on teaching you how to walk on two feet,” Grimm told him, smirking. 

“You guys…” Leona growled, glaring at them. “The moment I stay quiet, you all really couldn’t shut your mouths.” 

Then, Crewel hit him with his whip. “Stop barking!” 

She flinched at the noise. Oof, that’s gotta hurt. 

The teacher smiled and placed a hand on his hip. “Listen up, puppies. Take in Schoenheit’s lesson and finish up the most perfect show ever!” He ordered them. 

“Come on. Immediately start the lesson for the Fairy Gala!” Vil smirked. 

And with that, he started coaching the three performers. In the meantime, Mari and Ruggie decided to practice their part. She sat down on a chair, wearing a plastic crown that she pinned to her hair. It took them a few attempts to get it right. 

“Wow, their performance is exquisite! I can’t help but keep my eyes on these mysterious fairies!” Mari exclaimed, doing her best to act her part as the fairy queen. It was difficult to keep herself from laughing. 

“Got it!” Ruggie grinned, holding up her plastic crown that he swapped out. “Did you notice it?” 

She shook her head. “That was perfect! I didn’t feel a thing. How long did it take?” 

“Shishishi,” he did his signature laugh, “Only 6 seconds to take out the pins. Leona really thought that I’d need 10 seconds.” 

“Great! Now all we need is for those three to get their act straight,” Grimm cheered and they decided to check on their progress, making their way to Pomefiore’s ballroom. 

“It hurts,” Kalim groaned. “Sorry for bumping into you again.” 

“Kalim, just now you were supposed to step forward. Timing is key,” Jamil told him in a calm manner. 

“You have beautiful posture but you make too many mistakes when you swing your body that way,” Vil spoke up. 

“When I get too excited, it’s hard to control my arms.” The white-haired dorm leader rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish expression on his face. 

“And Jamil, you make no mistakes with your dance but it’s too perfect to the point that it lacks the atmosphere that would make the festival livelier.” 

“Vil, thank you for your hard work. We came to see how practice is going,” Ruggie said, walking into the room with his hands resting behind his head. “Is our leader doing well?” He snickered, turning to Leona. They were greeted with a chaotic sight. Leona was balancing a couple of vases on his head and shoulders. Sounds of water sloshing around coming from inside the vases. 

His eyes widened in shock. “What’s happened?!” 

“Vil! Get these off of me!” Leona barked at the model. 

“It’s a method for correcting your posture. You must walk around the room without pouring any water from the vase,” he responded. 

“You bastard…!” Leona growled, before he got splashed with water. His clothes became soaked. 

“Restart.” Vil remained calm, crossing his arms. “Don’t worry. We have plenty of water to refill.” 

“AH I CAN’T DO THIS ANYMORE! I QUIT!” The soaked beastman cried out. “I don’t care if it going to keep snowing, I can’t keep doing these stupid things.” 

Ruggie sighed, his ears folded. He shrugged. “Leona is hopeless. Kalim and Jamil keep messing up when dancing. Can we really keep up when the day of the Fairy Gala arrives?” He wondered. 

“If they fail to capture the audience’s attention, we’ll be the ones in danger when we need to swap out the crown.” Grimm wore a fearful expression, holding onto Mari for comfort. 

Mari caressed her partner’s fur, contemplating what’s to come. “Maybe we should try a different plan…” She mumbled. But then again, it’s likely too late for that. 

“No problem,” Vil reassured them, still oddly calm as ever. “I’ll bet with my model spirit that I'll make the “Monopolize both the crown and their attention” plan successful.” 

“But how are you going to do it?” Ruggie asked. 

A smile formed on his handsome features. 

“There’s only one way to make this work.” 

Then his face broke out into a harsh glare, piercing the souls of anyone who dared look directly into his eyes. “By being stricter! If I need to force your own body to memorize the correct posture, then I will beat them into you so that you can never forget!” 

SMACK! 

The three men screamed in pain and shock. Everyone’s eyes were wide open, including the stealth group. 

“He’s using magic to slap their butts!” Ruggie exclaimed. 

Vil crossed his arms, continuing to direct his merciless glare at them. If looks could kill, they’d be sent straight to the Underworld. “Three of you, stand up. From now on, if you sit down without my permission, I’ll have you squat 500 times.”

“Leona, place the vase on your head and redo it. If you pour it, squat for an hour.” 

His expression turned into one of exasperation. “We can’t keep doing this if you don’t train your body.” 

He turned to the two Scarabia students. “Kalim and Jamil, three-legged run around the school if either one of you makes a mistake. It’s a joint responsibility.” 

“No way…!” 

Leona glared back. “Acting all bossy… Just who the fuck do you think you are?!” 

“Worldwide supermodel, Vil Schoenheit!” he shouted and used his magic to spank their butts once more. The force was so strong that it caused tears to come out of Kalim’s eyes. 

“What a demon coach…” Grimm muttered under his breath and hid behind his supervisor. 

Grueling training has begun for the three poor unfortunate souls. 

Today was the day of the Fairy Gala. The group had been preparing, making sure that everything was perfect. Vil was applying makeup on them, his expertise in cosmetics was truly something awe-inspiring. He made sure to accentuate their best features and give them makeup looks to die for. 

“It’s your turn,” he turned to the prefect, who sat on a chair in front of him. His fingers hooked from under her chin and tilted her head up to get a better look at what he’s gotta work with. She gazed back at him with curiosity sparkling in her eyes. He hummed for a moment, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Your inner beauty revolves around your motherly heart. So, I’d like to give you a more innocent and demure, yet mature look.” 

The model got to applying the makeup. She followed whatever instructions he gave her while he did so. It was quite a pleasant experience getting her makeup done by him. As he worked, the rest of the group fixed their costumes. 

“Where do I wrap this cloth?” She could hear Kalim ask from behind Vil. 

“Give it to me. Just put it on your shoulder… Okay, done.” Jamil helped him out. 

“Wearing these expensive clothes really got me feeling nervous… And itchy,” Ruggie mumbled. 

“Just act natural and the fairies will think you’re one of them. Don’t be nervous,” Leona spoke up. 

Vil stepped back to survey his work, seeing whether he was satisfied with it or not. He leaned in and added a few more finishing touches and a small smile pulled at his lips. He took a small hand mirror and showed it to her. 

Her eyes widened in shock. She looked… ethereal. The overall style was more natural compared to the others as he didn’t want it to clash with the overall aesthetic of her costume. She had dusty rose pink strawberry-scented lip gloss that shimmered in the light and highlights only served to make her seem angelic. A delicate beauty that seemed out of this world. The true meaning of exotic. 

He took everything into account and made a masterpiece. And it was enough for Mari to see herself as gorgeous, which she believed to be an impossible feat until now. 

“I take it that you’re speechless at my skill.” Vil’s voice reached her ears. All she could do was nod in silence, mouth agape. He chuckled. “You’ve graduated from potato to beautiful fairy. At least, for today. If you worked harder, you could maintain your beauty.” 

She looked up at him with a shining grin and sparkling eyes. “Thanks, Vil!” 

After sprinkling fairy powder on her, he stepped back and allowed the rest of the group to see her. But if one were to look closer, they might’ve noticed the red dusting his ears. 

“Everyone is so sparkly...” Grimm smiled. 

“That is thanks to the needlework, but the effect mostly comes from the fairy powder,” Jamil explained. 

“It looks really good on you guys,” Mari complimented them, chuckling. 

“That’s my line,” Leona said, then turned to her. He eyed her up and down before he smirked. “Not bad for a herbivore, I guess.” 

“Yeah, you look exactly like a fairy.” Jamil smiled, crossing his arms. 

She couldn’t help but blush at the compliments, “Thank you…” 

“Are you guys ready?” Vil asked. He gave them a firm glare. “If you lose focus now, our strict lessons will be for nothing. Look at the mirror, check your makeup.” 

They all checked their appearances one last time to make sure everything was perfect. 

“We started from an unsightly situation so I wasn’t sure if this was going to work.” He sighed, before a smile creeped up on his lips. “But I guess it’s not that bad after seeing the finished look.” 

“Vil…” Kalim sniffed, before he wrapped his arms around the tall blond and embraced him. “VIL! Thanks to you, I can dance on the runway. I’ll do my best!” 

“Don’t forget about the original goal,” he reminded him. His features softened up, a gentle smile on his face. It was rare to see him like this. “The mission is to get back the stone that the fairies stole from us.”

Aw, they looked so cute like that. After that little exchange, Scarabia’s dorm leader let go of him.

Vil closed his eyes and crossed his arms. “If we lose the magic stone, the usual school life will never come back again.” 

He gave them a harsh glare. “Listen up, okay? It’s war on the runway.” 

Then, he smirked. “Grab the crown and their attention with the greatest performance of all time!” His words were encouraging, filling the girl with a sense of determination. The fire in her soul burned brightly, undying. 

“Alright!” 

Vil looked out the window with an unreadable expression. He was confident in his ability to coach, so he shouldn’t have to worry about them messing up. At least, that’s what he told himself. However, something else was on his mind. It irked him to think that a magicless potato of a freshman would have such an effect on him. But he remembered the way she gazed at him with such genuine admiration. Her smile seemed to shine brighter than any star. 

He was no idiot, and he was certainly not the type to deny his feelings. He knew exactly what he was feeling. Rook had always blabbered to him nonstop about this sort of subject. Not only that, but he was aware that he wasn’t the only one. Other men had been vying for her attention for far longer than he has been. 

But no matter. He just had to show her why he’s the best option.

[whattodowithace]

Boss V Secretary (Donghun)

Title: Boss vs Secretary

Paring: Donghun (A.C.E) x Reader

Genre: Spice, slightly suggestive

Words: 2.6K Words

Writer: Kpopmadness (Ju)

A/N: Part 1 of 2 of Boss vs Secretary. Enjoy! 😏

"Do you have all the paperwork she is going to ask for when she arrives?" Mrs. Yoo,  the companies now retired secretary asked Lee Donghun, her voice clipped. Her heels clicked loudly on the white marble tile as she walked ahead of him. Her white hair was tied up in a tight bun that showed the deep lines along her dark eyes, showing how tired she was. She wore a crisp black suit and skirt that smelled strongly of perfume as she walked.

"Yes ma'am." He said, holding up the clipboard for her to see that held a handful of papers needing to be signed.  He also wore a crisp black suit, his shoes so shiny he could practically see his face in them. His blonde, medium length hair, was tied neatly into a bun behind his head. His dark eyes roaming around his new work place curiously.

He had just finished training for this job a week ago. He honestly didn't think he would even get it. Oddly enough this was a fashion company, to be exact, one of the biggest fashion companies in Korea. Donghun wasn't huge into fashion, he knew enough about it to get by. But what drew him here was the experience he would get and the paycheck. He was hoping to someday start his own company, he didn't know what kind yet. But being a secretary was good training for the future.

This was the most sought after job he knew of. Just to be a secretary was near impossible to get. The only thing he felt got him in was that he had had some experience as a secretary for a CEO before and his old boss had highly recommended him.  Now he was here, getting the final run down of things before Mrs. Yoo left for good and he would be on his own.

"She will be arriving any minute so you better have those papers ready for her." Mrs. Yoo snapped.

Donghun nodded but didn't give a verbal response.  They had reached the front door of the company and waited for the black car carrying his new boss to roll in.

"Stand up straight." Mrs. Yoo ordered, making Donghun roll his shoulders back and down and hold his head up high.

He saw Mrs. Yoo roll her eyes at him but say nothing else as her eyes caught sight of the black car rolling to a slow in front of them. Mrs. Yoo plastered a smile on her face as the driver of the car got out and opened the back door.

Donghun watched as a woman with dark sunglasses and long straight glossy hair step out of the car. Her red and black stiletto heels landing firmly on the pavement as she drew herself up to full height. She wore a white form fitting pencil skirt with a white dress suit with a thick black belt around her slender waist. A large necklace hung around her neck accompanied by gold hoop earrings and gold bracelets that complimented her slender wrist.

"Good morning, Miss." Mrs. Yoo said kindly as she greeted the woman.

She met Mrs. Yoos eyes briefly before meeting Donghuns. He gave her his best smile and a bow out of respect. She only turned on her heel, however, and started her way inside.

People in the building cleared the hallways for her as they saw her coming, some of them bowing in respect as she walked passed them. Her heels clicked on the tile as she walked, her hips swaying softly with her walk.

Reaching her office,  she removed her sunglasses and took her suit coat off before tossing it on a nearby plush couch. The black blouse she had on underneath was low cut in the front and highlighted her honey colored skin.

She sat down in her black office chair before Donghun saw her face in detail. Her dark eyes were sharp and felt like a blade to his throat when they landed on him again. Even though she was intimidating as hell, Donghun still found himself thinking she was beautiful. But snake like.

"You're new." She said, her voice crisp.

Donghun nodded, he opened his mouth to speak but Mrs. Yoo cut him off, "He is going to be your new secretary, ma'am. Means how i am leaving."

Donghun held his breath slightly, realizing he was about to be left on his own in his new job. His new boss didn't meet Mrs. Yoo's eyes. Emotion never even crossed her face as she said curtly, "You can go."

Mrs. Yoo stood there with her mouth open, her shoulder taught. "Now, ma'am?"

The woman raked her red long nails through her dark glossy hair before meeting Mrs. Yoo's eyes evenly, "Did i stumble over my words?" She asked coldly.

Mrs. Yoo opened her mouth to say something but then seemed to think better of it. She gave a nod to Donghun before turning and walking out of the office, closing the door behind her.

"What's on the schedule today?"

Donghun shook his head and turned to face his new boss, her eyes not on him, rather she was looking at her computer screen.

Donghun quickly looked through the clipboard in his hand, scanning the list. "You have a meeting at 9 A.M and another meeting at 12:30 and a lunch date at 1:30." He answered, hoping his voice didn't sound nervous.

"Cancel them." She sighed wearily.

Donghun stared at her, "What? All of them?"

She turned to look at him, her eyes scanning across his body before meeting his eyes. "Yes.  All of them.  Do you have a problem with that?"

Donghun shook his head before adding, "You do have paper work that needs your signature though."

Without meeting his eyes, she held out her hand toward him. Donghun gave her the clipboard, her fingers wrapping around the board.

She set it down on her desk with a clang. "You can go."

Donghun stared at her for a moment, her dark eyes scanning the screen with the sunshine from the large glass window behind her hitting her skin. Her eyes met his, making him snap out of his trance. He quickly bowed his head before walking out of the office and shutting the door behind him, a breath escaping his lips that he didn't know he was holding.

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

1 month later

"You have a dinner reservations tonight with a fellow CEO of a company that wants to do a modeling photography shoot with us." Donghun says, rambling off her schedule on another work day. He sat in a plush chair in front of her desk, clipboard and pen in hand.

He had been here a month and had gotten used to her icy exterior, but he was slowly finding it increasingly fun to tease her.

"I told you, you can handle that. I don't need to be there." She sighed, her nails typing away at an email. Her eyes never left the screen as he filled her in on her day.

Donghun sighed and sat up slightly, rolling his tight shoulders back. "It wouldn't kill you to do something like this." He pointed out to her.

That made her stop typing. She met his eyes and leaned back in her chair, her red form fitting dress sparkling in the sunlight. "Are you telling me what to do now?"

Donghun chuckled and ran his tongue over his teeth, trying to find the right words. "I get you coffee, i handle your schedule, i assign your meetings, and recently I've even become your  chauffeur because now i drive you home after work. Don't you think you can help me out?"

Donghun watched as her eyes narrowed and a smirk crossed her lips. "Who hired you?"

Donghun was taken aback by the question, silence drug on between them before he answered quietly, "You did."

She ran her nail along the surface of her desk, her eyes following its trail. "So then why don't you be a good boy and stop pestering me on what to do with my company." Her voice was cold, her eyes met Donghuns and he felt a chill go down his spine.

She kept her eyes on his for several minutes, making Donghun uncomfortable.

"Let me give you some advice," She said after several minutes. She stood up from her chair and walked over to where he was sitting. She leaned down until Donghun could feel her warm breath on his neck, making him hold his breath.

"Do not cross me." She whispered darkly in his ear before standing up and walking out the door. Donghun fell back in the chair and let out several deep breaths before a smile went across his lips.

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

2 months later

Donghun was sitting at his desk filing through paperwork when a paper file landed on his desk suddenly. Donghun jumped and looked up to see dark eyes meeting his.

Donghun smirked up at the person in front of him, "Did you miss me?"

His boss rolls her eyes at him, his newest pet name for her wearing on her nerves but no matter how much she snapped at him he wouldn't stop.

"Finish those papers by tonight. I need them for a meeting tomorrow morning." She tells him coolly, turning on her heels to go back to her office.

"Wait," Donghun calls after her, letting out a small oof when she shuts the office door in his face. "You can't seriously expect me to finish all those papers before morning." He whined as he watched her settle down in her office chair and meet his eyes.

"I didn't ask you if you could finish them, i told you to finish them."

"Look, princess," Donghun says through a heavy sigh, walking toward her office desk to rest his hands on it as he leans over it to meet her eyes.

"There is no way i am going to be finished with those papers by morning. Plus, i will have to stop to take you home in an hour which will only slow me down."

She lets out an agitated sigh and runs her long painted fingernails through her perfectly curled hair. "I don't have time to argue with you. I need those papers finished for my presentation by tomorrow morning and then right after that meeting i have to be on a plane to Japan for a fashion show that is marketing my designs. I have a business to run."

Donghun lets out an aggravated laugh and rubs his tired eyes.  A  thought occurs to him, making a smirk cross his lips.

"Alright," He says, throwing his hands up in surrender. "I'll work on the papers tonight and finish them."

She gives him a sideways smirk, "Good boy." She commends, turning her chair  away from him to face the large window and work on something else.

"If you'll help me with it." Donghun adds, his voice dropping octaves.

He saw her shoulders tense as she spun her chair back around to face him,  "Excuse me?"

Donghun's smirk grew as he slowly made his way to her side of the desk, letting a finger run along the smooth surface of the desk.

"I already told you that the project won't be finished by morning. Unless, you help me."

She stared at him, a scoff escaping her lips. She crossed her arms over her chest, "This isn't a joke."

"Oh, i know, princess." Donghun says as he puts his hands on the armrests of her chair and meets her eyes evenly, his breath fanning out over her neck. "But here's the deal. Either you help me with that project or it won't get done on time. You're my boss after all, it wouldn't hurt you to do some work around here."

Her eyes narrowed at him and she opened her mouth to speak but found his finger pressed to her lips, keeping any words from coming out. 

"Or i can just quit.  But something tells me you don't want to see me go. And if i leave, your project still won't be done on time. So what's it going to be?"

Donghun held her eyes as she stared at him. A fire behind them that threatened death. She took his wrist, her tough sending a volt of electricity up his arm. She pulled his hand away and let out an annoyed sigh. Donghun smirked at her, knowing he had won this round.

"Good girl." He whispered deeply, using her catch phrase for him back on her.

........

The night passed with very little hiccup. Donghun sat across from her in her office, her eyes never leaving the computer screen as she worked.

The clock on the wall read 1:30 AM before she finally closed her laptop and rubbed her eyes, a sigh escaping her lips as her shoulders relaxed.

“Losing sleep to work on a project that was technically your job isn’t how I planned my night out.” She says as she stands from her chair and stretches out her back.

Donghun watches her get up and go to the large window that overlooked the city. The night lights twinkled through the window and created silhouettes across her face and body.

She looked over at him, perplexed by his silence. Donghun cleared his throat, “It’s done though. And you’ll have something to present like you wanted.”

She rolled her eyes, turning her attention back to the city. “Yes but only because you were too stubborn to do what you were told.” She shot at him.

Donghun chuckled and stood up from his chair, rolling his shoulders a few times to loosen the knots in them.

“It wasn’t that bad working with me. I think you enjoyed it.” He said with a smirk, leaning his shoulder against the window next to her.

She looked at him, her dark eyes examining his. It occurred to Donghun this was the first time he had seen her face look relaxed, a soft smile tugging at her lips.

“You’re aggravating, but no, you aren’t that bad to work with.” She admitted.

Donghun gave her a lopsided grin, “Are you actually being nice now?”

She glared at him and leaned her back against the window, “Not nice, just forgiving.”

Donghun drew himself up to full height as he walked over to face her. Her head tilted up slightly to meet his eyes.

“What if I don’t want you to be forgiving?” He blurted out. Making her eyes grow big, his own face flushing.

“Is that a request?” She asked, her voice soft but her eyes never leaving him.

Donghun smirked, his face coming just a little closer to hers. “A special one of sorts.” He whispered, his breath fanning across her mouth.

He saw her swallow nervously, making him feel oddly empowered. He put his hands on either side of her, his palms pressing against the glass.

“You realize it looks bad for an employee and their boss to be in this close of a proximity, don’t you?” She whispered, her hands resting on his chest.

Donghun let out a deep chuckle against her neck, making her clench his dress shirt.

His nose brushed against hers lightly, “Consider this another work project.” He whispered, before closing the small gap between their lips.

Her back was squished against the window and his body as he kissed her heavily, drawing out several sharp gasps from her as his lips traveled across her skin.

She fulfilled his request that night. She wasn’t forgiving with him and he felt it the next morning.

[yoddream]

new beginnings | n.jm

pairing: jaemin x fem!reader

summary: it didn’t occur to you how much your life would change when your mother got remarried

word count: lmao idfk it’s gonna be a long ass one so sit back and relax folks

warnings: swearing, mentions of Mark’s graduation (lmao), mentions of ‘00 line graduation (oOF), uh i think that’s it

notes: Y’all, here it is. The full-ass Jaemin imagine. I hope y’all love it. Just so you know, Korean will be in bold and English will be written without anything so that it’s easier to figure out who’s speaking what. Enjoy!

the title is so bad and doesn’t fit the fic ugh

Your mom and Jisung’s dad had met years ago on a business trip. The two of you didn’t meet until they’d started dating. Four years later, they were married, and you were spending every school break in South Korea with your step-dad and step-brother. You and your mom would video call them three times a week, always when you two were eating dinner and they were eating breakfast.You didn’t really study Korean, so conversations were stilted and awkward. Jisung seemed to always be busy with filming or practicing his singing and dancing when you were in South Korea, and then he focused more on the music when it became clear he had a future as an idol.

It was only when you finished your sophomore year that your relationship with Jisung changed. You’d found out the day before you were leaving for Seoul for the summer that your boyfriend had been cheating on you. It was the third night in the country when you couldn’t hold back your tears anymore.It was late, and your mom and step-dad were asleep. You never heard Jisung come home from practice at SM Entertainment, so when there was a knock on your door before it opened, you were surprised to see your step-brother standing in the doorway.

“Noona? Are you okay?” he asked in English.

You had shaken your head and buried your face in your comforters. The fourteen-year old took a cautious step forward before making up his mind and approached you. He motioned for you to move over before climbing in bed. He wrapped his arms around you and held you as you sobbed over your first heartbreak. He was probably exhausted, but he was staying up to comfort you instead of sleeping in his own bed.

The next morning, you had your mom explain to Jisung why you were upset. He had then excused himself to make a phone call. You and your mother were confused at his sudden absence. You two could hear him talking, and she smiled.

“He’s calling SM to tell them there’s a family emergency.”

Jisung had taken you out for the day, using an app on his phone to communicate with you. You were so touched by his actions that you told your mom you wanted to study Korean more. So that’s what you did all summer. When you weren’t studying, you were hanging out with Jisung, exploring Seoul together and watching him practice his dance routine in the basement. He would tell you about the other trainees, especially Chenle, a boy he’d met when he went to China for some TV filming a few years back. You two used the app, but you were recognizing more words by the time you had to return to the U.S, for school. The two of you shared a tearful goodbye in the airport as you promised to talk as much as possible.

You watched NCT Dream’s debut stage in the back of class instead of taking notes, a smile never leaving your face as you watched Jisung live his dream. You messaged him as soon as it was over to congratulate him, finally getting caught by your teacher and getting your phone confiscated. When you went back to South Korea for winter break, he told you about the music the group was working on, a goofy smile on his chubby face. He talked about the member that had to take a break for a herniated disc, his smile dropping slightly before it rose again as he told you about a prank he and Chenle pulled on the leader, Mark. The whole break was filled with stores of NCT Dream. You hoped you would meet them, but they were too busy working on music.

At Christmas, you gave Jisung a bracelet you’d made from embroidery floss that was black, white, dark blue, pink, and light orange: the colors of Jisung’s debut. He cried when you explained the colors, giving you a tight hug before handing you a gift, which was a necklace with a pendant that had your name engraved in it. You then started to cry, and he comforted you while still sniffling. All in all, it was a good Christmas, and your bond was even stronger.

As NCT Dream got more popular, you didn’t hear from Jisung as much. You would FaceTime, but as soon as one of the other members would enter the room, he’d end the call. You felt like a secret, which hurt. Why was your step-brother keeping you a secret?

When you went back overseas for February break, Jisung stayed at the dorms. It seemed he had forgotten you would be back home for a week (but it, once again, didn’t feel much like a home). It was only when he had watched your snapchat story that he’d realized the mistake he made. He rushed home and tackled you on your bed, crying and rambling in Korean.

“-----sorry! I----------idiot! Please---- me!” he cried.

Suddenly, you weren’t upset. You ran your hand over his head, trying to calm him down. When he pulled away, you saw the dark circles under his eyes. Of course he talked to you less; he was fifteen-years old rehearsing day and night for his group’s first album while also attending school. He barely had time to eat. You suddenly felt so stupid for being upset.

“Noona, please don’t hate me,” he whispered, his accent thick from crying.

“I could never,” you replied.

As time went on, you watched Jisung grow up and become more confident in himself. He was still shy in videos NCT Dream made, but he didn’t hide behind his friends as much. He eventually explained to you that his friends didn’t know about you because he like when it was just the two of you; as soon as they knew, he wouldn’t be able to hang out with you without one of them tagging along. Not only that, but your life could be in danger if it slipped to the fans that he had an American sister. Sasaengs were all around the world. He then called his friends clingy with a fond smile on his face. You understood his concern, so you were fine with not knowing them just yet.

///

When you were studying for exams at the end of your junior year, you desperately needed a break, so you picked up your phone to FaceTime Jisung. However, the boy that answered was not your step-brother.

“Who are you?” Chenle asked.

“Chenle, have you seen—oh shit.”

There was rustling and arguing in rapid Korean before Jisung’s face appeared. His hair was disheveled, his cheeks were red, and he looked scared. You couldn’t see Chenle anymore, so you figured he was behind the phone.

“Jisung, who is that?” Chenle demanded.

“My, uh, my step-sister,” Jisung replied quietly.

“How long have you had a sister?”

“About eight years.”

“Eight years?!”

“Chenle, can I please explain?” you asked.

He appeared next to your brother, his feelings obviously hurt at this discovery. You tried your best to explain Jisung’s feelings, having to mix in some English. You knew Chenle knew some English, but Jisung translated for him just in case. When you were done, his face was unreadable.

“I thought we were friends,” he mumbled.

Jisung’s eyes widened. “We are! I just—Y/N and I didn’t get along at first, so now I really cherish the time we have together.”

“Chenle, the relationship with my brother has not been easy. We’ve only been close for about a year, and that has been filled with his rehearsals and promotions. We don’t get as much time together as we would like,” you explained.

“You cannot tell the others. This has to stay a secret,” Jisung pleaded.

Chenle looked between you and your brother before sighing. “Fine, but don’t expect this to go -----.”

“Smoothly,” Jisung translated when he saw your face.

After that call, a door opened. You and your mom were greeted by your dad and brother (you felt it was time to drop the “step”) at the airport. Jisung looked like he was even happier. You two hadn’t been able to talk since that night, so you figured it had to do with his best friend knowing his secret. He pulled you into a tight hug, his face buried in your neck.

“I missed you so much, Y/N,” he said. Clearly, somebody had been working on his English.

“I missed you too, Ji,” you replied.

You two managed to spend a whole week together before the doorbell rang. You answered it and froze as your eyes landed on Chenle. You didn’t recognize him at first since he wasn’t dressed as if he was on stage.

“Chenle! Please, come in,” you greeted as you moved to the side.

Chenle stepped inside and slipped his shoes off. Jisung appeared in the foyer, his eyes widening at the sight of his best friend.

“Chenle, what are you doing here?”

“I wanted to meet Y/N. I know if I asked you, you would avoid it the whole summer,” Chenle responded. “Did you two have anything planned for today?”

“I was going to study Korean while he practiced dancing,” you said. “I can skip Korean for a day, though.”

“I really need to practice,” Jisung mumbled.

“We can practice together! You told me Y/N likes watching, so we can do that and go to lunch after.”

Finding out Chenle was as chaotic as he’d been in various videos you had watched of NCT Dream was surprising. He was the complete opposite of your brother, but people did say that opposites attract. You never thought it would’ve been like this.

You and Jisung hung out with Chenle once or twice a week so that the two of you still had time to yourselves. NCT Dream was preparing for a comeback, so there were days you were alone. Those were the days you hated the most.You still didn’t feel comfortable enough heading into the city yourself; you were worried you would blank on all the Korean you’d learned at would have a mental breakdown before calling your parents or Jisung to come get you. Jisung and Chenle were your only friends here, so you felt lost whenever they were at SM while your parents were working.

When it was time for you and your mother to leave, Chenle tagged along to the airport. His eyes were shining with un-shed tears you knew he would never let fall. Your brother, however, was a sobbing mess. There was a tissue balled up in his hand, probably useless at that point. His face was puffy, and his hair was a mess. You didn’t look that much better, you were sure. The three of you shared a group hug before you and your mom continued through security.

///

The start of senior year was tough. You lost friends, had a boy play with your heart, and you didn’t know what you wanted to do after high school. Part of you wanted to go to college, but another part wanted to move to South Korea. Your mom suggested applying to the schools in Seoul, but that didn’t sit well in your stomach. You voiced your concerns to Jisung one night, tears streaming down your face in frustration. You felt like you were running out of time.

“Why don’t you take a year or two off to figure it out?” he suggested. “There’s nothing stopping you.”

“What will I do until then?” you questioned.

“Move to South Korea and work with Mom and Dad or something. Maybe Mr. Lee will find a job for you at SM. It’s a great way to work on your Korean.”

“My Korean is fine.”

“You know a lot of words, but you’re not confident enough in speaking it around people that aren’t our family. Hell, you still struggle around Chenle, sometimes. That’s why you’re such a hermit when nobody is around to keep you company.”

You cursed at him and thought about it. It wasn’t a bad idea. You’d have to think it over, but at least you were starting somewhere.

///

You walked into SM Entertainment and provided your Korean ID to the secretary. You informed her of your plan and she smiled, informing you of where the Dreamies were. You bowed, thanking her before heading to the elevator. Your heart was racing as you got closer and closer to where your brother was. When the elevator reached the right floor, you walked down the hallway towards an opened door, laughter luring you in. Poking your head in, your eyes landed on a couple blonds that were too busy joking around to notice you.

“Jisung~” you sang.

Your brother’s head snapped up. He yelped and scrambled to his feet, running over and picking you up in a tight hug. You heard a certain dolphin screech before another body slammed into you. A few tears slipped from your eyes and down your cheeks, but your neck was soaked from Jisung’s.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I couldn’t wait until tonight to see you, so I had Dad drop me off on the way to work,” you explained. You cupped his face to wipe the tears away with your thumbs as his grip on you tightened. He’d been staying at the dorms because of rehearsal after rehearsal, so he missed your arrival a couple days ago.

“Jisung, who’s this?” Mark asked.

“This is Y/N. She’s my sister.”

“SISTER?!” the four of them exclaimed.

“You never mentioned you had a sister,” Jeno commented.

It was clear the group was upset; Chenle shifted uncomfortably beside you as Renjun glared at him. You explained why they didn’t know and how Chenle found out. Some of the tension had cleared, but you could tell it wasn’t going to be easy for Jisung or Chenle for a while.

“It really was great meeting you all. These two cannot stop talking about you guys. I’m glad they have you looking out for them,” you said with a smile.

“Aw, you love us,” Chenle cooed. You pinched his cheeks, causing him to complain with words you didn’t understand, but by the looks on everyone’s faces but Renjun, it wasn’t Korean.

“Anyways, I should probably cut this visit short. I’m hungry,” you stated.

“We were just trying to decide where to go for lunch. You should come!” Mark suggested.

“Yeah, I don’t think Jisung is letting go of you anytime soon,” Jeno joked.

“If it’s okay with all of you, I would love to. I’ve been waiting to meet you guys.”

You head to a restaurant down the street, Jisung refusing to let go of your hands until your food arrived. Mark found out you spoke English and freaked out. He really only got to speak it with Johnny, so he felt a little less homesick when talking to you.

“Does this mean we get to hang out at your house now?” Haechan suddenly asked.

Jisung groaned and fell back in his seat. “I knew this would happen.”

“Yes, you guys can come over,” you replied, throwing a playful glare at your brother.

After lunch, Jisung brought you home before heading back to headquarters to meetings and practice. The rest of your break was filled with NCT Dream. You quickly found out that Haechan didn’t hold back on sass-filled comments, especially towards their maknae. Mark giggled at everything, the act doubled whenever you called Jisung or Chenle by their full names in frustration. The last day you guys hung out, you all exchanged phone numbers, you having received a Korean one for Christmas. It was an emotional departure, as they all have been recently, you not wanting to leave the friends you had quickly made.

When it was time for February break, you were unable to make it back to South Korea. Your parents were on a business trip in London, and Jisung’s schedule was far too full to keep you company. You stayed at home and studied, squeezing in FaceTime with Jisung whenever his scheduled allowed it. Your heart ached at the sight of the bags under his eyes.

“Jisung, you need to sleep,” you scolded as you made breakfast.

“But you said you wanted to talk!” he exclaimed.

“That was before I saw how exhausted you are! You could’ve told me you were heading to bed. It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve had to reschedule a call.”

“Noona—”

“Don’t. Get some sleep. I’ll talk to you soon. Say hi to boys for me.”

“I will.”

“Love you.”

There was a pause. You looked up to find Jisung suddenly looking more awake.

“What?” you asked.

“That’s the first time you’ve said you love me.”

“Well of course I do, idiot. I wouldn’t talk to you this much if I didn’t”

“Say it again.”

“Huh?”

“Say it again,” he said. There was a goofy grin on his face.

You felt a fond smile pull at your cheeks. “I love you, Jisung.”

“Love you too, Noona.”

///

Since your grades were perfect, you got permission from the school to head to South Korea without any academic repercussions. NCT Dream was performing a new song called “Go” on TV for the first time, and it would be Jaemin’s first performance since his hiatus. The whole group was a nervous wreck; the song was completely different from their others, and they were worried that Jaemin would get hurt again. Jisung had no idea you were visiting. If he knew you were watching, he would get too nervous and probably mess up the dance. This was the first performance you’ve ever seen in person, and Jisung was always worried about disappointing you.

You and your parents walked around backstage, lanyards hanging around your necks. NCT Dream was about to head out, so you guys were trying to find a way to the side of the stage without you and your mom being spotted. The group jogged onstage, and the three of you took your spots on the edge.

The performance was breathtaking. Your brother and his friends had never looked so confident dancing before. They moved so effortlessly, as if they weren’t constantly worrying about how everything would go. Jisung’s dancing had improved so much, and you could tell he was having fun.

After the performance, they headed your way to leave the stage. You were hidden behind your parents, watching Jisung through the cracks of their arms. He caught sight of your mom and smiled so big you were afraid his face would split. He ran over and gave her a hug.

“Hi Mom,” he mumbled.

“Hello, baby. You did very well,” she replied.

When Jisung pulled away, your parents stepped aside to reveal you. He had a similar reaction to last time, yelping and picking you up in a hug. He spun you around in happiness, giggles falling from his mouth. You laughed and pressed a kiss to his cheek, waving to the rest of the group.

“I’m so proud of you,” you said.

“Thank you, Noona,” he whispered.

As soon as you were set on the ground, you were picked up once again, this time by Chenle. He was letting out these soft sounds that told you he was trying not to cry, so you ran your fingers through his hair to comfort him.

“Who’s that?” Jaemin asked.

“That’s Y/N. We were telling you about her a couple weeks ago,” Renjun stated.

“Jaemin, it’s nice to meet you.” You bowed with Chenle still clinging to you. When you stood straight again, there was an odd expression on Jaemin’s face. However, he still bowed to you and returned the comment.

Your parents decided to treat the boys to dinner to celebrate the performance. Jisung kept an arm around your shoulders, pressing a kiss to the side of your head every once in a while. Moments like this had you wishing you could post pictures of your brother to your Instagram, but there was the worry of one of your followers knowing of him and his friends. You just wanted to show everyone how wonderful your brother was.

When it was time to head home, their manager said Jisung had to head back to the dorms, so he promised to meet up with you and your parents for lunch. You gave him another hug and kiss on the cheek, reminding him once more how proud you were. Waving to everyone else, you got into the cab with your parents and headed home.

///

A week before graduation, Jisung and your dad came to America to help sell the house and all the furniture you didn’t need. You were officially moving to South Korea and taking a couple years off from school to figure out your future. Jisung was ecstatic, finally being able to hang out with you without a deadline looming over your heads.

“What about this?” Jisung asked while holding up a summer dress.

You two were going through your clothes to see what you could donate. He had insisted on speaking as much English as he could while he was visiting. Hwne you asked why, he’d said that you’d worked so hard on your Korean for the family that he thought he should return the favor.

You shook your head. “Mom bought that for me a couple years ago. I haven’t worn it in a while.”

“Donate bag!” he exclaimed before tossing it in the trash bag you had. He shouted that every time you decided to donate an article of clothing.

“Does Jaemin hate me?” you asked as you folded the clothes you were keeping.

Throughout your whole visit in March, Jaemin hadn’t been as welcoming as the rest of the Dreamies were when they’d first met you. He’d give you looks you couldn’t explain, and he wouldn’t talk to you much. You were worried you had somehow upset him.

Jisung paused to think. “I think...he does not know how to...act?”

“Act.”

“Act around you. He is...comfortable around us, but not you.”

“Was he like that when you first met?”

“Yeah. He was very shy. But I thought he was better.”

“You would know,” you said with a snort.

Jisung pursed his lips and threw a pillow at you. The two of you continued to go through your things until it was time for dinner. Dad had made tteokbokki and kimchi, your favorite dish.

“Y/N, are you excited to move?” Mom asked.

“I am. I like when the four of us are together. We don’t get to be a family as much as I want to,” you answered.

Jisung looked confused. “We are always a family.”

“We don’t get to be together as a family as much,” you translated. “We’re separated for most of the year.”

“Ah, okay. Yeah, that makes me sad.”

“Us too. The house was too quiet when it was just Y/N and me,” Mom stated. “We can also be more involved in your career, Jisung.”

“Yeah! I can see you perform more and help you practice your dances,” you said excitedly.

“Help me with English too?”

“Of course, dude. Whatever you need help with.”

A few days later was your graduation. You couldn’t wait to leave and never look back. The people you had considered friends dropped you as soon as you told them you were moving to Seoul. The rest of the school year was tough, but you luckily had the Dreamies a call or message away. Jeno was your hype man when you had to write an essay, Renjun would listen to your fears of the future. Haechan made you laugh to relieve the stress you were constantly under, and Mark would talk about about when he doubted his future in k-pop to show you that if you worked hard you could achieve whatever you wanted. Jisung and Chenle would message you every chance they got, whether it was to cheer you up or simply tell you something that had happened that they wanted to share with you.

“How do I look?” Jisung asked.

You rolled your eyes. “I should be asking you that.”

Jisung’s blond hair was parted to show his face. He wore slacks and a baby-blue button-up with the top two buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up.

“You look very handsome,” you complimented. “You’ve grown up so much, man.”

“You look more than pretty,” was his reply. Laughing, you grabbed his hand and pulled him down the hallway to leave.

The graduation was, as predicted, boring. You could hear some shushing throughout the ceremony, but it sounded tinny. When your name was called to grab your diploma, you saw that Jisung was holding up his phone. Your parents were as well, so he was probably just recording the ceremony.

“Y/N Park! Y/N Park!” you heard as you approached your parents. When you turned to Jisung, his phone screen was facing you, showing five of the six NCT Dream members in their dorms, chanting and smiling.

“Oh my god! What are you guys doing?” you asked with a smile.

“We wanted to watch you graduate!” Haechan said. “Since we can’t be there, Jisung decided FaceTime was the next best thing.”

You could feel your eyes water, but you held the tears back. “That’s so sweet.”

“We are very proud of you,” Jisung stated.

“Whoa, check out that English!” Mark shouted.

“Jaemin had to go see the doctor, but he says ‘congrats,’“ Jeno stated.

“Is he okay? Is it his back?” you questioned, suddenly concerned.

“He has to have a couple check-ups to make sure his back is still okay. As far as we know, he’s not injured,” Renjun explained.

“It’s more routine than anything,” Chenle added.

“You sound very worried,” Mark commented with a smirk.

“Well, the last thing I need is for you guys to piss yourselves if he has to take another hiatus,” you replied, immediately earning shouts of denial.

You couldn’t wait to be with them again.

///

“Park Y/N! Wakey wakey!”

You groaned as multiple bodies jumped on your bed, various male voices laughing and screaming. The jet lag wasn’t completely gone, so you were pretty pissed that you were woken up.

“You numbskulls have ten seconds to get out of my room or else I’m strangling you all,” you snapped.

Somebody landed on top of you, making your eyes fly open. Jeno’s signature eye smile was mere inches from your face. “You love us too much. Welcome home, sunshine.”

You threw your arms around his neck and squeezed tight. The others noticed and piled on top of you, complaints of favoritism floating in the air. Your eyes drifted to the doorway where Jisung and Jaemin were watching the scene unfold. You held an arm out.

“You two joining or what?” you asked.

Jaemin hesitated before stepping forward, Jisung right behind him. Your brother laid on top of Chenle while Jaemin placed himself next to you. You didn’t hesitate to throw your arm around his shoulders and pull him close with a smile before saying, “It’s good to be home with my friends.”

“I’m hungry,” Mark commented.

“Y/N, can you make us breakfast?” Haechan whined.

You threw your head back and laughed, urging everyone to get up. You missed how Jaemin stared at you while you laughed, but Jeno didn’t. You led the group to the kitchen and started to pull out ingredients for pancakes while Renjun grabbed as many eggs as possible and Haechan found bacon in the fridge. Jisung placed bananas with the pancake ingredients, making you grin at his pleading eyes.

“Noonaaaaaa, I’m hungry,” Chenle whined.

“Hey, she’s my actual noona,” Jisung complained.

“Children, don’t make me put you in time-out. Chenle, you can easily pour yourself some cereal. You certainly know where it is,” you said. “The others will gladly take your share.”

“I call his bacon!” Mark shouted.

“I’m all set,” Chenle stated.

Rolling your eyes, you turned your attention back to making the pancake batter. As you added ingredients and mixed everything together, Jaemin made a pot of coffee. When he gave you a mug, you said, “Sorry I can’t give you four shots of espresso.”

The other boy’s eyebrows shot up. “You know my coffee order?”

“Dude, Y/N watches every interview. She’s our number-one czennie,” Haechan chimed in.

You shrugged in response. “Am I not supposed to support my brother and friends?”

“You know we love how supportive you are,” Renjun assured you.

Jeno threw an arm around your shoulders and kissed your temple. “She knew all the words to ‘Chewing Gum’ before she understood them.”

“I can’t tell if you’re making fun of me,” you grumbled.

“Never, sunshine,” Jeno stated with a smile.

After breakfast and clean up, the boys had to head to practice, giving you time to start unpacking. The clothes didn’t take long since you already had some in your closet and dresser. A lot of your furniture from America was sold, so you didn’t have to worry about that, either. When you got to the box of sheets and blankets, you placed that in the hallway to put in the linen closet later. All that was really left were a couple boxes of books and decorations.

There were a lot of pictures to place around your room, even after getting rid of the ones that had your “friends” in them. There was one of you and your dad at the father-daughter dance last year that you placed on your dresser, along with one of you and your mom on your very first day of school The one of your family at the wedding hung proudly by the door. Two frames were placed on your nightstand: one of you and Jisung at your graduation, the other backstage at NCT Dream’s “Go” performance, which was also Jaemin’s comeback. There were so many pictures of you and Jisung that it shocked you. Seeing all of this reminded you of how your relationship changed the night he reached out to you, despite the language barrier. The two of you did something you never thought would happen; you became a family.

“Ow! Damn it, Y/N! Why is this sitting int he hallway?”

You turned around to face Jisung, surprised he was home. When you checked your phone, though, you realized more time had passed than you thought.

“Hey Ji! Sorry, I was gonna put them in the linen closet, but I lost track of time,” you explained. “How was practice?”

“It was okay. We’re gonna start filming the music video in a couple weeks, so everyone’s a little stressed about perfecting this dance,” he said. “I’m gonna take a nap. Can you wake me up in an hour?”

“You got it.”

“Thanks, Noona. Room looks good, by the way.”

“We Go Up” was set to debut at the end of August. The album, which was getting released in September, would be Mark’s last. It was safe to say everyone was on edge. Jisung’s mood had dramatically changed when they were told the release date. You wanted to help him, but you didn’t know how. You didn’t want to think about when the ‘00 line would graduate next year.

///

You ran errands with your mom for one day, and Jisung’s hair was suddenly rose gold. One. Day. You wanted to have a photoshoot with him to capture how cute he was.

“Chenle’s hair is mint green!”

Oh my god.

“I can’t handle it. You guys are too cute,” you whined.

“Hey! What about me?” Haechan asked.

“Ask me when your hair is a fun color.” The other boy crossed his arms and pouted.

“Jaemin’s hair is pink,” Chenle mumbled, his face red with embarrassment.

“Your team is trying to give me a heart-attack, I swear.”

“How so?” Jaemin asked as he joined you from his room.

A strangled noise came from your mouth, and you rushed over to play with his hair. He tensed up until your fingers ran through his pink locks, his whole body melting under the touch. How could hair that’s constantly bleached and dyed be so soft?

“You look like cotton candy,” you whispered.

“I hope that’s a good thing,” he joked.

“The best.”

“Now I kinda wish I picked a fun color,” you heard Jeno mutter.

You cooed and fell into Jeno’s lap, his arms immediately circling tight around your waist as you pinch his cheeks and say, “Aw, you’ll always have a spot in my heart, Jennie-bear.”

“You said you didn’t have a bias!” Chenle accused.

“As a czennie, I don’t have a bias. You all are talented, handsome, and charming in your own ways. As your friend—well, Jeno doesn’t really use skinship, but he doesn’t hesitate to with me,” you told them.

“It’s because you’re so cuddly and cute,” Jeno commented as he nuzzled behind your ear playfully.

“That’s very true,” Jisung piped up. “Whenever I’m feeling overwhelmed, Y/N will drag me to the couch and turn on my favorite movie before cuddling me. Her presence is just so...calming.”

“Okay, so I’m not the only one that’s noticed that,” Mark commented.

Jeno started to rock you back and forth slightly as they talked about their comeback. They were excited about the music, but you knew what they were avoiding: Mark’s graduation. There was a song that they wrote that made Jisung cry every time he thought about the lyrics. At one point you got up to go to the bathroom, and when you returned to the living room, Jaemin reached out and grabbed you, pulling you into the armchair with him. You were surprised and about to ask, when he whispered out a broken, “Please.”

You shifted in his lap until you could wrap your arms around his neck. His head rested against your shoulder as your fingers played with his hair, his body melting into the chair. Before you knew it, his breathing had slowed, and his face was completely lax. His body was so warm, lulling you to sleep.

You don’t know how long you were out, but when you woke up, the sun was setting in the sky. Jaemin was still fast asleep, his head resting on top of yours and small snores coming from his mouth. You grabbed your phone to check the time, but a text from your brother caught your attention.

Jisung: Don’t know if you’ll wake up before you’re back but we went to KFC for dinner. Text me if you guys want anything 🐣

“Jaemin. Jaemin, wake up,” you said groggily.

Jaemin groaned and tightened his hold on you. His eyes fluttered open slowly, eventually looking down to you. “Hey. What time is it?”

“Almost six. We fell asleep, so the guys went to dinner without us,” you said. “Jisung said he would bring something back for us.”

“Where’d they go?”

“KFC.”

“Can you pull up the menu on your phone?”

A few taps later, and you were looking at the Korean website for KFC. Jaemin had you open the sandwiches menu, and you both went “ooh,” at one that had a fried egg on it.

“I want that,” he whispered.

“Me too. Anything to drink?”

“Cola.”

You texted your orders to Jisung and went to stand up, but Jaemin held onto you. You tried again, but he wasn’t letting go.

“Jaemin, I have to go to the bathroom.”

“O-oh. Sorry.”

After washing your hands and checking your reflection, you headed back to the living room, stopping when you reached the doorway. Sitting with Jaemin was comfortable, but wouldn’t it be weird if you went over there? You decided to just sit on the couch. However, Jaemin grabbed you and, like before, pulled you into his lap. Instead of saying anything, you took your phone out and played a game. Jaemin was watching some gaming video, the volume down low.

“We’re back!” Mark announced as the door opened. He appeared in the living room first, grinning as he placed your food and drinks on the coffee table. “You two look comfy.”

“Like you guys said, she’s cuddly,” Jaemin mumbled, avoiding eye contact with either of you.

“He’s acting much different from when you first met, huh?” Mark asked you.

“Talking in English is rude, Mark,” you scolded, ignoring his comment.

“You tell him, Y/N!” Chenle cheered.

You leaned forward to grab the food. Jaemin followed with an arm still around your waist. It was clear he wasn’t letting you go anytime soon, but you were okay with that. He obviously was holding something in, and he didn’t know how to deal with it. If holding onto you helped him de-stress, you would gladly stay until he was okay.

“Are you, uh, gonna eat like that?” Renjun asked.

Jaemin shrugged. “I’m okay with it.”

“I’m too comfy,” you admitted.

Throughout the night, you and Jaemin shared memes and watched YouTube videos together. You talked to the others as well, but you two were really focused on each other. He was really easy to get along with, now that he was comfortable around you. It was like a switch had flipped in him, and it was for the better. When you and Jisung left the dorms, you had a new friend and another number in your phone.

///

As soon as the door shut behind you and Jisung, the other Dreamies turned to Jaemin. He jumped at the sudden movement, eyes wide as he waited for whatever they were going to say.

“Do you like Y/N?” Chenle asked.

“Yeah, she’s pretty cool,” Jaemin responded.

“No, do you like her? Like, do you want to date her?” Haechan questioned.

Jaemin was shocked. “I don’t really know her well enough to have feelings like that.”

“Do you think she’s pretty?” Renjun asked.

“Of course, but that doesn’t matter.”

That night, Jaemin laid in bed thinking about how the others questioned him. While it seemed like they weren’t upset at the thought of him possibly liking you, it was clear they cared about you. They would hurt anyone who broke your heart, and that was intimidating. He would have to be careful of falling for you.

A few days later, you and Jaemin were at the grocery store. Jaemin lost Mario Kart and his punishment was going to the market. The group needed food for the week, but they all hated shopping, so you offered to go with him. You two were wearing hats and face masks, you only wearing it to make him look less suspicious. You had gone to a different aisle for some snacks, but you had been gone for a while, so Jaemin went looking for you. When he finally found you, he stopped in his tracks.

You were staring at the shelves, your eyebrows scrunched together. It was clear you were pouting, and it occurred to him that maybe you didn’t know what the others liked. You knew so much about them that he never thought you would need his help with shopping. He was about to step forward when an elderly woman approached you. He smiled as he watched you follow her around the store, grabbing a few items from high shelves for her since you were the same height as Renjun.

The elderly woman hugged you once she had everything she needed, and your eyes landed on Jaemin as she walked away. You smiled sheepishly and told him you didn’t grab any snacks, but he simply smiled and told you it was okay. The two of you walked back to that aisle, and he told you about each snack he grabbed, like who liked what and why they liked it. You then went over to produce, where you were greeted by an older worker named Hosung. Jaemin eavesdropped on your conversation with the employee as he picked up some apples and carrots. Hosung commented that he hadn’t seen you in a while, and you mentioned that you were now permanently in South Korea since you finally graduated high school and were able to move in with your family. Jaemin was shocked that you two were talking like you’d known each other for a long time before he remembered that you’ve been visiting the country for years, so maybe you had.

After you hugged Hosung goodbye, you and Jaemin headed to the registers. You picked the line, ignoring the one that had less people in it. When he questioned you, you said that you hadn’t seen Yumi in a long time since she was on medical leave the last time you shopped here. The cashier spotted you two and turned her light off, a sweet smile on her face.

“Y/N! Oh, I haven’t seen you in forever,” the older woman greeted as she came around the counter to hug you and pinch your cheeks.

“I missed you, Yumi,” you stated, a huge smile on your face.

“Is this your boyfriend?” Yumi asked, glancing to the boy next to you.

“No, this is Jaemin,” you announced as he bowed.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he greeted.

“Oh! You’re one of Jisung’s friends!” the woman exclaimed. Panic rose in his chest until you grabbed his hand, squeezing it.

“Don’t worry. She won’t tell anyone,” you assured him. “She’s kept Jisung’s secret for years.”

“He’s such a sweet boy. How could I betray him?” Yumi asked.

She went back to the register to ring up the food, asking you questions about how school went and what you were doing now that you were living in South Korea. Your face lit up as you told her about what you’d been doing so far and how excited you were to figure out your future while you were here. Yumi glanced at Jaemin and saw the fond look on his face, smirking to herself.

The two of you hugged Yumi before heading back to the dorms. You had to take the train back, so Jaemin paid for the both of you as thanks for going with him to the store. When you got on the train, the two of you were squished together. You looked up at Jaemin to find his eyes already on you. His cheeks peeked from his face mask, which meant he was smiling at you.

“What?” you asked.

“Nothing,” he said quickly.

You rolled your eyes and said, “Clearly it’s not nothing. You’ve never looked at me like that for no reason.”

He shrugged. “I’m just thinking about how well you know some of the people that work at that grocery store.”

“That’s what’s making you smile?” you asked incredulously.

“It’s really sweet! I don’t know,” he mumbled, looking away from you as he blushed. “Forget it.”

You hesitating before telling him, “When I refused to learn Korean, they would talk to me in English. They were the only ones that did. Everyone else would just talk to somebody else in my family. When I started to learn Korean, they were so patient with me, even helping me when I couldn’t remember how the phrasing went. Hosung and Yumi didn’t have to do all that, but they did, and I’m grateful for that.”

Jaemin looked back to you. “All the more reason to smile.”

///

Jaemin watched as you danced around goofily with Haechan, Jisung, and Chenle. You and the Dreamies were in the practice room. You wanted to watch the “We Go Up” dance, and then you wanted to learn the “Chewing Gum” routine. Renjun, Jeno, and Mark were dancing to the song, but Jeno broke away to sit next to Jaemin. He saw the smile on Jaemin’s face and followed his gaze, Jeno’s eyes landing on you as Haechan spun you around.

“She’s amazing, isn’t she?” Jeno asked.

“Huh?”

“Y/N. She helps people whether she knows them or not, she’s mastered the Korean language while helping Jisung with his English, and she didn’t give up on becoming your friend when you were so closed off to her,” Jeno explained. “She’s exactly your type.”

“And how do you know my type?” Jaemin questioned.

“Because you’re my best friend, and you haven’t stopped staring at her the part twenty minutes.” Jeno looked at Jaemin. “You’ve been so worried about developing feelings for her, you failed to notice that you already have.”

Pink hair went flying as Jaemin whipped his head over to the boy next to him. He then looked at you. You were on Chenle’s back, laughing as he ran around. His heart raced at the sight of pure joy on your face.

“Shit.”

///

Something was up. You didn’t know what, but the Dreamies were acting weird. All you had wanted to do was go to the mall, but they were constantly splitting up. Jaemin looked like he was ready to kill them, while Jisung clearly didn’t know what was going on every time somebody dragged him away.

“Let’s go to Adidas!” Renjun said, grabbing your brother’s arm.

“Wait! I...wanna go,” you trailed off as you were, once again, ignored. The others were spread through the building, leaving you alone with Jaemin. Frustrated, you started to walk away.

“Wait, where are you going?” he questioned.

“Home. It’s clear nobody wants to hang out with me,” you said, feeling dejected.

“I do.”

Turning around, you faced Jaemin. His eyes refused to meet yours as his cheeks turned pink. His hands were shoved in his pockets, and he was rocking back and forth on his feet. There were a few seconds of silence before he said, “Come on. Let’s grab something to eat. On me.”

The two of you ended up grabbing burgers. Jaemin picked a table by the windows, so you were able to watch the bustling city below. You turned back to take a bite of your food when you realized Jaemin was staring at you with a small smile on his face.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Not this again. Is there something on my face?”

“No, it’s just—you look really good in this light.”

That caught you off guard. You knew Jaemin was a flirt, but you never expected it to be directed towards you. “O-oh. Thank you.”

“Do you mind if I take your picture?”

“Uh, yeah. What do you want me to do?” you asked.

“Look out the window again.”

You followed his instructions and looked at the world below. There was somebody dancing for tips, and you couldn’t help but smile; it reminded you of Jisung. You heard a tinny shutter-click, so you looked back at Jaemin. There was another shutter-click, and then Jaemin blushed.

“Sorry. I-I didn’t mean—”

“Can I see it?”

He poked at his phone a couple times before handing it to you. The girl in the photo was smiling softly as she looked out the glass before her. In the next photo, she was looking right at the camera, a look of adoration on her face. You couldn’t believe that was you.

“I’ve never looked like that before,” you stated.

“What are you talking about? You always look like that.”

You glanced up at Jaemin. The glimmer in his eyes changed the air between you two. You could both feel it, but neither of you knew what to do next.

Of course, that didn’t last long. The Dreamies appeared out of nowhere, complaining about how you got food without them. You didn’t let that continue for very long and immediately started scolding them over how they kept running away and ignoring you and how Jaemin stopped you from leaving early. They all hung their heads and apologized for hurting your feelings before offering to take you to the stores you wanted to go to.

“Why bother? You already know what’s in there,” you snapped with a frown on your face. “I want to be left alone right now. Because that’s clearly what you wanted.”

“That’s not—” Mark start, but you cut him off.

“Don’t bother. I know when I’m not wanted.”

You walked away, Jaemin running after you. He said, “You know that’s not what they meant.”

“Oh, I know. They deserve a taste of their own medicine, though, don’t you think?” you asked with a smirk. “Come on, there’s a park nearby I want to visit.”

You grabbed Jaemin’s hand and dragged him down the street. When the two of you reached the park, you started to release his hand, but he held on. Glancing at him, you could see a blush forming on his cheeks. You entwined your fingers, his attention snapping to you at the action. You sent a shy smile his way before turning your focus back to the trail you were walking on.

You reached a garden, no one else in sight. There were flowers everywhere,a sweet aroma floating in the air from their petals. When you looked at Jaemin, you were surprised to find his eyes on you instead of the beautiful scene sitting mere meters away.

“You’re staring again,” you pointed out.

“I can’t help it,” was his response.

Before you could say anything else, you heard the guys calling for you two. How the hell did they find you? Suddenly, you were pulled towards the treeline. Jaemin was laughing as the two of you dodged tree after tree before he finally stopped behind a large trunk. Your chests were pressed together, pants coming from your mouths. Jaemin had an arm around your back as he peered around the tree, your friends’ voices in the distance. You admired how strong his jawline was and how his skin glistened in the sun that was peeking through the leaves.

“Okay, I think we’re safe,” he stated.

He turned to you, whatever sentence was next dying on his lips. You were looking up at him with a small smile on your face, your eyes shining and your cheeks flushed. He couldn’t tell if it was from the running or the proximity, but in that moment he didn’t care. All he wanted was for you to never stop looking at him like that. You were so beautiful, it took his breath away. With a shaky hand, he pushed some hair behind your ear.

“I really like you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

The smile on your face grew as you said, “Good, ‘cause I really like you too.”

It felt like a weight had been lifted from his chest. He grinned and leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss as a hand cupped your jaw. Your hands clutched at the fabric over his chest. You were over the moon with Jaemin right next to you. It felt like something was finally locking into place.

“Found you.”

You jumped, bumping foreheads with the boy in front of you. The two of you clutched your heads as you turned to glare at Chenle, but you froze when you saw everyone a few feet away. Your eyes immediately landed on Jisung, worried about his reaction. However there was a smile on his face, matching everyone else.

“Well, it’s about damn time!” Haechan exclaimed.

“What?” you and Jaemin said.

“She sat in your lap before you were even friends,” Renjun stated.

“And then you guys fell asleep, woke up, and ate dinner, all while she sat in your lap,” Mark continued.

“And she’s your type,” Jeno added.

“And he’s your type,” Jisung commented.

“Okay! We get it, it was obvious to everyone but us,” you snapped. “So, what now?”

Jaemin paused. There was a dating ban in NCT, and there were some huge consequences if that rule was broken. He’d been working towards this career for years, sacrificing his old life and his health when he’d hurt his back. However, he cared about you too much to break your heart after all this, and he knew that the other members of NCT would have his back once they met you.

“We’ll have to be careful, but I want to take you on a date,” he said.

“If you’re willing to take that chance, then I’m in,” you replied.

The guys cheered as Jaemin kissed you again before the eight of you decided to head back to the dorms. Jaemin had an arm around your shoulders while Jisung’s hand found yours so it wouldn’t look suspicious. As you walked through the garden, your brother asked, “Are you happy?”

You looked at the boy that was quickly becoming one of the most important people in your life. His smile was as bright as his hair, and he had a heart of gold. He looked at you and winked, a fond look in his eyes.

“Yeah, I am.”

[tisfan]

Title: Genus and Species  Collaborator Name: @27dragons & @tisfan Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26030251 Square Filled:   Tony Stark Flash Bingo (Aug) - Thanos (both)   Starkbucks Bingo - I3: “I got nothing” (27dragons), O4: Time Travel (to the Future) (tisfan) Ship/Main Pairing: Bucky/Tony Rating: G Major Tags & Triggers: None Other Tags: Time Travel, Established Relationship, Dinosaurs, Robots Summary: Tangling with Thanos has landed Bucky and Tony somewhere -- or somewhen -- they don’t know. No, Tony, you can’t bring the dinosaur home and keep it as a pet. Word Count: 1703

For @tonystarkbingo and @starkbucksbingo

When Bucky opened his eyes, all he could see was green in all directions. At first he thought that was just the remainder of the Time Stone’s power. Thanos had done… something. No one quite knew what because the battle had been so confusing; the Power Stone blasting purple rays everywhere, the Space Stone moving people out of position, lord only knew what was happening with the Reality Stone. And then there had been a great, green wave of energy--

“Ug,” said someone nearby. It took Bucky a moment to clear his thoughts enough to identify it: Tony. “I feel like a Pride parade just swallowed me whole and then puked me out.” A pause. “Why are we in a jungle?”

“I got nothing,” Bucky said, rolling over to look at Tony. The Iron Man suit was pretty banged up, souvenirs of the battle. “I think-- I’m not sure. Strange was yelling something about a time vortex. It’s hard to understand him under normal circumstances.” Thanos had zapped Bucky with the Mind Stone at least three times, somehow sensing the Winter Soldier would be easier to control. 

Bucky did not appreciate it.

Tony made some kind of noise that was hard to interpret through the suit’s speakers, and then retracted the helmet to look around. “Okay, well, those are deciduous trees, so we haven’t been thrown back more than three hundred million years or so.”

“There are jungles all over the world,” Bucky said, grumbling and getting to his feet. He might only look about thirty-five or so, but there were days he felt all one hundred of his years. Knees. Knees were a thing. Also, poor design. “Any signal?”

Tony made a face and then reformed the helmet. “...Some,” he said. “Nothing I can hook into right away, but there’s something out there.”

“Right, Mulder,” Bucky snarked. “All right, we do this the old fashioned way.” He dug out a set of binoculars and hung them around his neck. “You stay down here, you’re too colorful. Any sniper in the area might want to take a stab at you.” He didn’t necessarily disinclude himself on that list, but the sort of stabbing he had in mind was generally not for polite company. He looked around for a good, tall tree and scrambled up, swinging himself from branch to branch. When he got high enough, he paused, waiting for the wind, so it wouldn’t just be one tree shaking like crazy.

Finally, he breached the canopy and could get a look around.

Jungle.

More freaking bush than he’d seen since Cambodia.

Trees, and trees, and more trees. In the distance, he made out a mountain (also covered in trees) and a break in the trees that was either a road or a river. 

Something was moving.

Bucky turned the binocs in that direction. Something big was moving. Trees swayed and crunched. Something really damn big. Bucky could feel the vibrations of its footsteps in the tree he was clinging to. 

“Clear,” he yelled, and then just let go. He could handle drops up to fifty feet without too much trouble, and the ground here was soft and springy.

He’d just reached Tony’s side when the something fucking roared. Like a tiger crossed with an elephant and the size of a blue whale.

“That’s a dinosaur,” Bucky said with forced calm. “We should get the heck to shelter, like, yesterday.”

“What kind of dinosaur?” Tony wondered. “Might be an herbivore. That would be cool, actually.”

“May I remind you that the current contenders for biggest, meanest land animals are moose and hippos, and they’re both herbivores,” Bucky said. “Can we do something productive, like finding a cave, or an overhang, before it sees us, and decides we’re lunch?”

“Oh, fine.” Tony tossed a couple of microcameras up onto the trees where they clung like particularly bright insects, then turned in a slow circle. “Infrared suggests some hollow rock in that direction,” he said, pointing. “If there’s not a natural entrance, we can make one.”

Bucky nodded, then took point. It bothered him a little that there wasn’t someone taking up the rear between Tony and whatever was out there, and reminded himself that Tony was an experienced fighter, and he had a suit of armor, which was pretty damn tough. 

The whatever it was sped up, moving at them-- Bucky tipped his head to one side while he ran the math. Nearly thirty miles per hour. Bucky picked up the pace a little bit. On flat ground, Bucky could run almost sixty miles per hour, but this was not flat. Nor was it a good plan for him to expend that much energy before they had any idea what they were up against, or if there was much in the way of food in the nearby vicinity.

“Got your cave, ten o’clock,” Bucky said. There was a bit of a clearing and then they could squeeze in, one at a time. “How far back does it--”

Bucky stopped as the -- freaking hell -- dinosaur came crashing out of the jungle, about six meters high and full of teeth.

“That,” he said, firmly, “is a dinosaur. I don’t care what you just said about the deciduous thingies.”

“There were deciduous trees long before there were dinosaurs,” Tony said distractedly. He was looking up at the dinosaur, his head cocked. “It’s not a dinosaur, though.”

“Okay, you go out and tell it that it don’t exist,” Bucky snapped. “If it’s going to eat us, does species really matter?”

“The species doesn’t matter,” Tony said. “What matters is that it’s a robot. I don’t think we’ve gone back in time at all. I think we went forward.”

Bucky stared at him. “I fail to see how this is an improvement in any way.” Probably worse, honestly. Dinosaurs were at least skin and bone and nerve endings. And most living things were afraid of fire.

“Dinosaurs are your department, sweetheart,” Tony said. “Robots are mine. Get in the cave and stay out of its sight.” Without waiting for a response, he launched into the air, a wide, spiraling path that would take him around the dinosaur-robot-thing a few times before he reached the level of its head.

Bucky slid into the shadows where he could still watch, sighing. “If you bring back a giant dino-shaped robot from the future as a pet and say ‘can we keep it’ I promise you, Steve is gonna kill you.”

“Not if my pet dino-robot eats him first,” Tony said cheerfully, even as he swerved to avoid the thing’s lunging bite. He dipped and spun and wound up clinging to the dino-robot’s back.

The dino-robot was extremely unamused by the sudden disappearance of its prey. It whirled and snapped, clipping several branches as big around as Bucky’s arm with all the ease of a hedge-trimmer.

Tony was muttering under his breath, technical terms that made no sense even when Bucky knew what they meant, because they weren’t connected to each other, just little fragments of sentences and thoughts, punctuated with occasional grunts as the dinosaur made various attempts to dislodge him.

“You got an EMP grenade?” he called down after what seemed like hours and was probably no more than a minute or two.

Bucky stuffed his left hand into his satchel, the sensor array in his fingertips cataloging his equipment neatly. “Two. You want me to throw it, or lend it to ya?” EMP grenades were pretty good against Doombots, their occasional throw downs with raging maniacs like Doc Ock, and more than a few times against the US military who had a perpetual boner for shooting at the Hulk.

“Toss it up here,” Tony said. “This thing runs on a-- oof! --slightly different frequency than the ones we’re used to, I need to do a mod.”

“I don’t know about you, smart-guy,” Bucky said. He dashed across the clearing, rolling when he got to the far side, “but I am not used to giant robo-dinosaurs.” He threw the grenade with such precision that Tony only had to hold out his hand to be able to catch it.

“Perfect, good throw,” Tony said, because he was consistently amazed at Bucky’s aim. (And Clint’s, if Bucky had to be honest.) He let go of the dinosaur’s back and shot up higher into the sky, just out of its reach, hovering in the air as he retracted one gauntlet and started fiddling with the grenade.

After snapping uselessly at Tony a few times, the dino seemed to realize there was something else under its feet. A large snout bent down to snort at Bucky, who promptly punched it in the nose with his left arm. “Bad dino-bot, no biting,” Bucky scolded. The snout didn’t even seem damaged. Crap, that was probably bad.

The dino-bot did not smell like a robot. It smelled like rotting meat, probably the result of whatever it had caught in its teeth.

“Almost done!” Tony called. “Hang in there!”

“Whatever you’re doing, do it faster!”

The dino-bot made another lunge for Bucky that he was barely able to dodge by diving behind a large tree. And then he had to roll out of the way again when the dino’s attack knocked the tree over.

The dino roared again. Why did a robot have to roar? That seemed entirely unnecessary.

But as it did, Tony swooped down and chucked the EMP into its mouth, then dropped the rest of the way to the ground to get between it and Bucky. “--two, one.”

“You make a pretty good shield,” Bucky muttered, putting his shoulder to Tony’s spine. They’d discovered a few times, the hard way, that the arm wasn’t always too great at dealing with EMPs either, but the suit made for a good Faraday cage.

The dino-robot closed its mouth, made an entirely biological hiccup sound, and then--

WHUMP!

The mouth dropped open.

Very slowly, the dino-bots legs folded--

And it fell over, crushing more trees and wrecking the landscape.

“Well, that’s that, then,” Tony said. “Unless, of course, there are more of them out there. We should probably work on finding a way home so we can kick Thanos’ butt.” 

[whattodowithkpop]

Hidden Secrets (Seyoon)

Title: Hidden Secrets

Pairing: Seyoon (Ace) x Reader

Genre: Fluff, friends to lovers AU

Word count: 2485

Writer: Kpopmadness (Ju)

A/N: ⚠️Warning⚠️ Mentions of readers Ex-Boyfriend being mentally abusive and shaming her.

*****

“Seyoon!” A familiar voice calls from behind him, making him turn around in time to catch the said person. 

Seyoon let’s out an oof as the girl crashes into him, making him laugh. “I thought you weren’t walking to school with me today.” Seyoon comments as he sets her down on the ground. 

Her smiles fades from her face, the playfulness that was there moments ago blows away she looks down at the ground. She shrugs, “My boyfriend didn’t show up to pick me up for school like he promised last night.”

Seyoon sucked in a breath and bit his tongue. Hating her mention her boyfriend. Seyoon had no use for him. His personality and the way he treated her only made him more angry. But she was his friend, and there was nothing he could do about it. He felt his heart drop into his stomach. He was only a friend. 

She took a deep breath and smiled as she forced the same chipper tone in her voice again.

“Will you let me walk with you? We only have six more months of high school left after all. Then we won’t be able to walk to school together anymore.”

Seyoon forced a smile on his face as he took her backpack from her and slung it over his shoulder as he had done since they were in preschool. 

“You can always walk with me.” He said gently, giving her a sly wink, making her smile

She babbled about anything and everything to him as they walked. The fall air making leaves blow gently around them. Seyoon nodded and laughed on que, just enjoying her cheerfully company. 

As they neared the steps of the school Seyoon saw her boyfriend wave for her at the top of the steps, a snake like grin on his face. She smiled and waved back at him before taking her backpack from Seyoon’s shoulder.

“I’ll see you later, Seyoon!” She calls as she runs up the steps to talk into school hand in hand with her boyfriend. 

Seyoon grits his teeth and makes his way to his locker. Silently seething past the crowds of students. He had just entered the code to his locker when a familiar voice piped up, 

“You look especially annoyed today.” 

Seyoon turns his head to see a familiar pair of brown eyes meet his. Byeongkwan leans his shoulder against the locker beside Seyoon’s and gives him a raised eyebrow. Waiting for an answer. 

“Just the usual.” Seyoon replies curtly as he stuffs books into the locker. 

“She take her boyfriend back again?” Byeongkwan asks, making a spark of annoyance go through Seyoon.

“When does she not?” He answered as he closed the locker door with a slam. 

Byeongkwan chuckles and wraps his arm around Seyoon’s shoulders. “One day, you will have your shot and she will be madly in love with you.”

Seyoon let’s out a grunt and removes Byeongkwan’s arm from his shoulder just as the morning bell rings. 

“We only have six more months of school left, BK. Besides, we’re just friends.” He says wistfully as they walk to the first class of the day.

~~~~ 

Seyoon remembered being  five years old when her family moved in across the street. She had seen him playing in his yard and had waved cheerfully at him. He was a shy boy and rarely talked to anyone. But he found himself waving back to her when she waved. She would wave to him everyday from her bedroom window or her yard whenever she saw him, but they never talked. 

Then on their first day of preschool, while their moms walking them to school, they walked together. And all through that first day they stayed together. Her cheerfulness like a contagious bug that made him smile and laugh. 

After that, they walked to school everyday. Him giving her piggy back rides some days, but most days carrying her pack back of lunch box for her. Just because he wanted to. When they hit high school life got more complicated. 

Boys started to notice her more. Girls started to notice Seyoon more. But Seyoon never fully realized how uninterested he was in other girls unless it was her. Byeongkwan had been a transfer student and was Seyoon’s first guy friend since being in high school. The three of them got along well. Even having sleep overs once a week together. 

Then eight months ago she became interested in the high schools most popular boy. 

And he just happened to go through women more than socks. It was then that Seyoon realized how much he cared for her. He had tried to tell her he was bad news but she simply waved him off and told him he worried to much. All the while his heart screamed, “I’m not just worried about you, I love you.” 

That’s why when she called him screeching happily she got a date with the popular high schooler he had faked being happy for her. Then called In sick for school the next day because he couldn’t look at them.  Because his heart aches realizing he had discovered his feelings for her a bit too late, and now she was someone else’s who didn’t deserve her. 

~~~~~

“Stop staring.” Byeongkwan said through a mouth full of food at lunch break as he jabbed Seyoon with his fork.

Seyoon had to tear his eyes away from the scene in front of him. She was sitting with her boyfriend talking to him cheerfully, her arm wrapped around his shoulders. When he glared at her and threw her arm off him and clearly snarled at her. Humiliating her in front of his friends that only laughed and backed him up. Making her cower and look down at her plate with tears in her eyes. 

Seyoon ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “In about ten minutes he’s going to put his hand on her thigh and apologize and she’ll forgive him.”

Byeongkwan shrugged as he pushed his finished plate of food away. “Nothing you can do. She’s head over heels for him.” 

Seyoon clicked his tongue as he looked back at them to see him already trying to win her over again. “I wish she saw how bad for her he is. He’s so abusive.” 

Seyoon had seen as she had changed and bent in half for that man. She wore baggy clothes because he didn’t want her to show off her form, but at the same time criticized her for not trying to be more sexy. Her smile was forced around him and he hated it when she laughed too loud or smiled too much. She hadn’t cut or colored her hair in months like she used to. She said he wanted her hair long and yelled anytime she asked about trimming it.

Byeongkwan sighed heavily, “Maybe someday she will.”

“Or maybe she will just get her heart broken.” Seyoon said, giving Byeongkwan a sideways glance. 

Byeongkwan shrugged, “Live and learn.” He stated before taking his tray away before the afternoon bell rang. Leaving Seyoon with his head spinning and heart throbbing. 

~~~~~ 

That “live and learn” day, as Byeongkwan had put it, did come. One week later to be exact. She came banging on Seyoon’s door one Saturday afternoon and nearly knocked him over when she crashed into his chest, heavy sobs wracking her body.

Seyoon had sat her down and listened to her for over three hours as she ranted about how much she felt like an idiot. Seyoon’s heart was racing when she fell asleep on his chest as they snuggled on the couch watching a movie. The smell of her hair in his face and her body on top of his. He felt horrible for selfishly wanting it all to himself, especially now, when she was heartbroken. 

Months passed until there was only one more month before graduation day. Seyoon’s cap and gown hung in his closet awaiting its assigned day. Everyday he saw it only made Seyoon excited to be done with school. But also sad. Especially since that meant he would be leaving soon for a medical collage. Without her. 

In those months she had cried several times over her breakup. Called Seyoon in a panic from missing her prior boyfriend so bad. She sat with him and Byeongkwan at lunch and barely ate when she saw him walk into the cafeteria. But he never so much as gave her a second glance while his arm was draped around his new found girlfriend. 

Then she began to heal. She had cut her hair, making it come from her mid-waist up to her chin in a bob. She had ditched the baggy clothing and wore figure complimenting clothing. Her smile and laugh returned with their old cheerfulness and vigor, all of this made Seyoon fall for her more. Byeongkwan had kicked his shin several times over the course of those months, claiming he was drooling when Seyoon shot him a glare. But things were about to get harder.

~~~~~~

Seyoon laid on his bed resting, the afternoon sun shining through his window as he shut his eyes and breathed deeply. Two more weeks and they would graduate. And he was no closer to telling her how he really felt. 

Suddenly, a knock tapped on Seyoon’s door before a familiar head popped in. 

“Are you sleeping?” She asked, looking down at him. 

Seyoon opened one eye to look at her and grinned, “I was, until you came in.” He teased. 

She rolled her eyes at him as she flopped onto the bed with him, curling into his side. 

“What are you doing today?” He asked, hoping the shake didn’t show in his voice.

She must not have noticed it because she answered, “Nothing. I’m bored at home and thought I would come see what you were doing.”

Seyoon chuckled, “I’m afraid I’m poor company.” He said, “I don’t have anything fun for us to do.”

She hummed in acknowledgment as she curled more into him. “Then let’s just rest here.” She whispered.

Seyoon found himself playing with the ends of her hair as her breath got deeper and slowed. Her warmth making Seyoon’s own eyes droop as he slowly drifted off to sleep. 

~~~~~ 

Seyoon awoke slowly, stretching out his tired limbs as he took in his surroundings. His room only had fading sunlight in it now. Seyoon felt a shift beside him, making him look over to see her still sleeping. One hand rested on his shoulder as her other hand was under her cheek as a pillow. Her breath slow and deep as she slept heavily. 

Slowly, Seyoon propped himself up to one elbow as he stared down at her sleeping form. He gently ran a few fingers down her arm, electricity going up his fingertips. He watched her sleep for some time with a pain in his heart. Wishing he could see her with him like this all the time. 

Before he could stop himself Seyoon bent down and gently kissed her on the cheek. Her skin soft and warm against his lips, her sweet smell filling his nose and making his head feel dizzy. 

Seyoon opened his eyes as he pulled away, her state unchanged. He found himself looking down at her lips as he bit his own. Wondering if it was the best idea. He argued with himself for several minutes before leaning down again to place a soft kiss on her lips this time. The feeling making his body heat up and his heart race. His eyes came open quickly though when he felt her mouth press against his back. 

He jerked away to see her eyes meet his, a smirk on her face. “Is that our new way of waking each other up?” She asked, smiling. 

Seyoon felt his face heat up like a wildfire as he scooted away from her. “I’m sorry, I thought you were still asleep and i only meant it as a sweet gesture and I thought-“ 

Seyoon’s words were cut off from her wrapping her arms around his waist and hugging him close to her. “And you have feelings for me and thought that was your only chance to kiss me.”

Seyoon stared at her, his heart feeling like it stopped for several beats. “You knew?” He croaks out, stunned. 

She rolls her eyes at him and chuckles, “Byeongkwan told me.”

Seyoon felt his face turn more red as he silently vowed to hurt his friend when he saw him next. 

“He figured you would never tell me so he told me you had feelings for me about a week ago.” She continues, her fingers tracing patterns on his back. 

“And you didn’t say anything?” He asked, still shocked. 

She shrugged as she curled up against him more, “I thought maybe you would say something. But when you didn’t I came here to confront you about it. But you looked tired so I kept quiet. It looks like all I needed to do was fall asleep for you to admit it though.” She giggled. 

Seyoon let himself chuckle with her, nervously letting a few fingers brush against her cheek. “You aren’t mad?”

She smiled up at him as she ran a hand through his hair, “No. I’m not mad.” She wrapped her arms tighter around his waist adding, “You can kiss me again anytime now.”

Seyoon felt his face flush but obeyed as he brought his lips down to meet hers, the action making his heart beat wildly. She took took his face in her hands to press his lips more firmly against hers, making the kiss deeper. It was slow and drawn out, their lips moving gently against each other for some time. 

Seyoon bit her lower lip gently, causing her to gasp against his mouth, making him feel braver as he pushed her onto her back to hover over her and wove one hand through her hair while the other hand wrapped around her waist. Their legs becoming tangled underneath the blanket Seyoon had wrapped around them earlier.

Seyoon’s lips moved from her lips to her neck, gently biting the skin under her jaw, making her breathe out shakily and tighten her grip on his shoulders. Seyoon let his lip drag against her skin, the act sending a chill down his spine. 

Seyoon lifted his head from her neck, his fingers going up her side to her arm as he took her hand in his and gently kissed it. “You don’t need to be anywhere tomorrow, do you?” He whispered.

She smiled up at him and shook her head, “No. Tomorrow is Sunday so we don’t have school either.”

Seyoon smiled and leaned down to attach his lips to hers again. Leading in many more kisses as they talked and explored their new feelings for each other the rest of the night. 

MASTERLIST

[pluto-art]

Syncytium - Chapter 4

Title: Syncytium - Chapter 4 - Fateful Trips Words: 8,571 Rating: T

Fan Fiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13712482/4/Syncytium

Per the norm, I recommend the fan fiction version, which includes all accentuated bits. This has probably been my favorite chapter to write so far. :)

September 17th, 1993 - 6:03 AM

A spillage of numbers, symbols, and complicated algorithms flowed across the outdated monitor, a furious tap, tap, tapping of a keyboard a musical accompaniment to the madness. In the background, something beeped steadily, one high-pitched ding after another knocking at the air every two seconds. Several bottles and beakers hung suspended by their necks in a wooden tray off to the side, their liquid contents bubbling and boiling incessantly, all of them different colors of the rainbow - cinnamon, emerald, lilac, and azure. Rows and rows of books, large dusty tomes neighbors with fresh dainty novels, stood side-by-side within the innards of several tall, mahogany shelves set against the back wall. Still more shelves, steel-coated instead, lay strewn throughout the room, these ones encasing not just books, but various scientific tools, as well as cups of pens and pencils, tape, notebooks, and an assortment of other things. The entire room was dark and foreboding, the occasional dim ceiling light and desk lamp adding limited warmth to the place, with the two computer monitors shedding their own ghostly glow about the room. Piles of notes and here and there a forgotten and empty (and sometimes half-full...) coffee mug lay about on the computer desks, and there were probably more calculators - all different shapes, sizes, and models - tossed about than was necessary. It was an organized mess.

But it was his organized mess.

Globetrotter scribbled something down on a yellow notepad to his left, his right paw firmly planted on a computer mouse to his right. Light from the monitor reflected off his half-moon glasses, which tottered dangerously close to the edge of his nose. He swiftly pushed them back up onto the bridge.

Tap, tap, tap...

More typing. More note-taking.

"Yes...," he whispered to himself, the beginnings of a grin climbing up onto his face. "Yes!"

He slammed a finger down onto the 'Enter' key, and a train of calculations ran across an invisible track on the monitor, finally ending in a result that was much to his satisfaction. Globetrotter smirked deviously.

"Heh heh heh. Ohhhh, my friend. Are you in for a treat."

Just then, his eyes went wide, ears drooping suddenly.

"Uggggh," he groaned, setting down his glasses as he ran towards a heavy steel door, punched in a code on a panel set in the wall, and flew out of the room as the door slid open. When it closed behind him, it melded into the wall so well that no one would be able to tell one way or another that a secret laboratory lay hidden on the other side.

Down a long, dimly-lit hallway he ran, his shoes clapping loudly against the smooth concrete floor, 'til he reached an elevator. He slammed his paw on the only button set in the wall - UP.

"Come on, come on...," he muttered, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. He allowed himself this - this undignified form of behavior, rocking back and forth like an absolute child. It was something he'd never succumb to in public, but here there was no one to see, not even any cameras. He'd shut them off long ago, knowing full well that no one would ever bother to monitor the basement. No one but him ever graced this area anymore.

After a full half a minute, the elevator finally descended.

Ding.

Globetrotter bolted into it as the doors opened, punching the 'Floor 1' button with unbridled voracity as he clutched at a spot near his crotch, face scrunched in discomfort. His head hung, an extended paw resting against the elevator wall as it ascended. He groaned. This was most undignified.

No sooner had the doors laid entrance to the first floor than Globetrotter shot out of the elevator like a bullet, practically skidding into the men's bathroom that, thankfully, was literally right across from the elevator. It was a shoddy design, but it worked well for him.

He practically knocked the door off its hinges as he barged inside, taking an extra two seconds to select the furthest stall from the entrance as he ran in, slammed the door shut, shakily undid his belt, and slammed his butt resolutely down on the toilet... and released.

He said a silent prayer of thanks that no one was in the bathroom to hear the sounds reverberating off the walls. It was embarrassing enough to deal with bowel issues, but for explosive diarrhea to come along with it every now and again was the icing on the expired cake. Most in the university knew about his issues. How could he avoid it? The students expected him to take a sudden pause during his sessions every once in a while. If anything, they welcomed it; less Globetrotter meant more time to goof around and breath without fear of being told off or sent to detention. And he'd learned to simply... deal with it. Rarely did the whispers come, and there was always at least one veteran student in his class to inform the newer sets about his strange, frequent disappearances. But it still bothered him a little; made him feel weak. Bested by his own bowels. Ridiculous.

Globetrotter breathed a sigh of relief as he let the last of it out, quickly regretting his next deep intake of air as he slapped a hand across his nose and mouth in disgust. Ugh. That was a smell that would linger.

Finishing up, he flushed the toilet (it actually went down this time, thank God...), washed his paws, and exited the bathroom, grateful that he didn't meet anyone on the floor on his way back to the elevator. Not that he would. Early morning wasn't exactly a time for many staff and students to be active. Nevertheless, he checked his watch as he shuffled down the hallway. 6:17 AM. Class would be starting in just a little over an hour. Perhaps he should abandon his private endeavors until a later time? He fixed to head to the second floor until he remembered he'd left his glasses in the lab. Groaning, he stepped into the elevator, pressed 'B', and headed back down to the laboratory.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

1:54 PM

The day passed without much deviation or interruption in anyone's schedule, save for a light altercation in which someone accidentally set fire to the kitchen microwave... somehow. Olivia was still collecting signatures on her excursions down the hallways and into the cafeteria during lunch time. She even took to staking a spot outside some of the classrooms when she knew a session was about to end, clipboard in hand and pen out, ready to attack any unsuspecting student or teacher. It annoyed some, but most took it as an opportunity to amuse the little mouse. Even the stiffest of teachers found it hard to dislike Olivia, save for Globetrotter. Even Basil was starting to warm up to her, especially after she complimented him on his magnificent violin playing, although he still wouldn't sign her petition.

"How many signatures do you have, Olivia?" Mrs. Brisby asked that afternoon, tossing the girl mouse a light smile as she stepped into her classroom, lunch bag in hand and carrying bag slung over her shoulder. Brisby always brought her own food.

"Fifty-four!" piped the girl, adjusting her tam-o-shanter as it fell down over her eyes. "And Mr. Pinky said that if I get to two hundred, we can show it to the principal and get a baseball stadium!"

"Hm. Is that so?" Brisby asked, still smiling as she set her bags down on the cherrywood table and unloaded several books onto it.

"Mmhm! Well... Maybe. He has to approve it first. That's what Mr. Pinky said."

"Well. I don't think that will be too hard. All you have to do is smile at him," Mrs. Brisby said, pinching Olivia's cheek. Olivia giggled. "Here: Something for Mr. Pinky." And she handed her a bright, reddish-green apple. "Just make sure to tell him Brisby sent it. I'm experimenting with a different species in my garden and would like some opinions. Oh, and here's one for you, too."

"Thank you!" Olivia said, pocketing both apples, one on each side of her coat. "Bye!"

"Bye bye now!" Mrs. Brisby said cheerily, waving at her.

Olivia skipped with delight down the hallway, for once not calling out for signatures. It was almost 2:00 PM and she had a very important appointment to catch. As she cantered down the hall, waving to Dr. Dawson as he passed by, not waving to Mr. Globetrotter as he passed by, she hummed a little tune, pondering what wonders might await her in Mr. Pinky's class this time.

I wonder if he'll talk about the planets? Or if we'll go on a mystery adventure! Maybe we'll build a roller coaster in the classroom... or fly to the moon! Oh, I do hope he has a cooking show this time. That would be lovely.

Her head was so full of thoughts that it completely clouded her vision - she didn't even see Mr. Pinky coming right towards her...

"Oof!" they both exhaled, shaking their heads and chuckling as they recognized whom they'd bumped into.

"Oh! Olivia!"

"Hello, Mr. Pinky!"

"Say, um, do you know how to get to my room?" Pinky asked, picking up a little case that he'd dropped. It looked like an old-fashioned medical bag. "I came into the school from a different side this time and got a little turned around! Heh heh."

"You mean you... don't know where your own classroom is?" Olivia asked.

"Well, it's a big school! Even teachers get lost sometimes!" At this, he bent down to Olivia's level, cupping a paw against his mouth as he continued in a whisper. "But don't tell them that. I think they'd be offended!"

Olivia giggled.

"Come on. I'll show you to your room, oh lost Mr. Pinky. Oh. And this is for you."

She handed him one of the apples Mrs. Brisby had handed her, taking a bite out of the other for herself.

"Why, thank you!" Pinky said, soaking his teeth into it happily.

And with that, they headed off, Olivia leading the way and occasionally throwing out a factoid here or there.

"I know every hallway in the school!" she said happily. "That way goes down to Bernard and Bianca's class." They climbed down a flight of stairs to land on the second floor, passing more hallways as they continued on. "And that one hallway goes all the way down to the nurse's office. That's where Mrs. Judson and I are! Oh, and that's the hallway that goes to the principal's office. But don't go down there. He's mean..."

Pinky took note of all of this in his head; or, at least, he tried to. Facts tended to flit in and out of his inner cavity a lot more often than he liked to admit, unless it was something he considered to be very important. He tried his best to tie down all of what Olivia was telling him to a particularly heavy, imaginary rock. Remembering who was who in the school was, indeed, rather integral information. What if he ever wanted to give Mr. Bernard and Mrs. Bianca a gift, but forgot their names or where they set up shop? What if Olivia needed someone to go with her to talk to the principal about looking over their petition? Even more important, what if a student in his class got hurt and he needed to alert the nurse? Very important, indeed.

Please, don't forget this time, okay? Pinky thought to himself privately. Please... He couldn't afford to. Not again...

They ran into Basil as they turned a corner. The faintest hint of a smile flashed across his face as he saw Olivia.

"Good morning, Mr. Basil!" Olivia piped up, stopping to greet him.

"Hello, Ms. Flangerhanger," he replied, riffling through a sheet of very important looking papers.

Olivia chuckled and shook her head. He could never get her name right.

"It's Flaversham, Mr. Basil."

"Mmhm," he mumbled, not looking at her. "I take it you're on your way to the nurse's office?"

"Actually, I'm helping Mr. Pinky find his class."

Olivia motioned for Basil to bend down to her level, which he obliged to, albeit reluctantly.

"He tends to get lost," she whispered into his ear.

"Is that so?" Basil queried, standing up straight again to take a closer look at this Mr... "Pinky, was it? You're... new here, are you not?" he asked, licking a thumb before riffling through his papers again.

"That's me!" Pinky acknowledged cheerily. "And Olivia's being such a help."

"Is she still going on about that ghastly petition?" Basil asked, although not entirely unkindly; it was almost playful.

"Yes! Will you sign it?" Olivia asked, not at all perturbed by Basil's mock reply, as she held the petition high up the air towards Basil's face, which, due to her height, wasn't very high at all. Even on her tippie toes she barely reached his chest.

Basil looked over at her and actually smirked.

"No," he said, giving a rather toothy, sarcastic grin before wandering off. "Good day to you both."

"Hm. He's a little stuck up, isn't he?" Pinky asked, staring after Basil curiously as he disappeared around the corner.

"Oh, don't mind Mr. Basil. He's quite nice when you get to know him. Come on! Let's go find your class room. We're late!"

And with that, Olivia took hold of Pinky's hand and led him onward down the hallway.

They passed Globetrotter as they reached the bathrooms. Pinky wrinkled his nose a little as the door swung shut behind the disgruntled teacher. Great swollen socks. It smelled as if something had died in there. Nevertheless, Pinky smiled and waved as he stomped by.

"Afternoon, Brain!"

Globetrotter shot him a nasty look, adjusting his pants and wincing as he did so. Pinky cocked an eyebrow in concern.

"Let's go," Olivia said in a hushed tone, pulling Pinky forward and past the restrooms.

Not ten seconds later, they reached his classroom. They were late. Not that it mattered. In truth, no one had yet signed up for Pinky's class, even though it had been a little over a week since he'd set up shop. Although many in the school talked about looking into the Trozology course, none had actually committed. Besides a majority of the pupils having very busy schedules that didn't allow for much free time, the main excuse, besides the nature of the class being rather oblivious, was concern that it would disappoint. It wouldn't be the first time a new teacher had come to town, toting with them the promise of a particularly interesting course, only for it to fall flat on its face and disappear or fade into obscurity a year later. "Someone," the students said, "has to take the plunge - take one for the team - and try Mr. Pinkus's class out to see if it's legit." Everyone was pushed to do so; henceforth, no one did. Only Olivia came to call now and again, and whenever she happened upon him he was either watching television, acting out some wild and wacky skit (which, unfortunately, she always caught the tail end of), or, on one rare occasion, sitting at his desk reading and staring at his family portrait longingly. Olivia just assumed that she always missed his busy class times. How could someone so fun not have any students?

"Hmm. Are all your students late, Mr. Pinky?" Olivia asked, looking up at him curiously as he opened the door to... an empty classroom.

"Hm? Oh no! No, not at all. I just... don't have any students yet! Ha-ha. You're the first, actually," Pinky said, as he set his medical bag down on the desk and pulled out several items: a can of tuna, a HUGE block of cheese wrapped in non-stick parchment paper, a notepad, a couple of pens, and... a Gilligan's Island tape. "Got tired of the old ones," he winked at Olivia, answering her silent question as he set the tape down amongst his snacks and office supplies.

"Are you going to watch it?" Olivia asked, curious eyes barely able to see over the top of Pinky's desk, her little paws stretching to grasp at its edges.

"We caaaaaaaaan," Pinky teased. "But only if you'll share this cheese with me!"

Olivia gasped.

"Really?!"

Five minutes later saw them both sitting on hard plastic chairs in front of the wheel-in tv, munching on cheese and occasionally busting out in a fit of laughter at some silly antic that one of the cast members pulled. Olivia had already decided that this was her all time favorite show, even though she'd barely seen one episode.

"Mr. Pinky? Why don't you have any students?" she asked rather randomly during a pause in the show.

"I suppose it's because no one's signed up yet!" Pinky said, all optimism.

"Ohhhh. When will they sign up, do you think?"

"I don't know, actually. But they'll come!"

Olivia smiled. He seemed so certain that she couldn't help but believe him. She took another bite out of her American Cheddar.

"I'm gonna tell all my friends about your class," she mumbled thickly through a huge mouthful of cheese. "Then everybody will come, and they'll all sign up!"

"Awwww. Thank you, Olivia!" Pinky smiled, giving her a snug side hug. "I'd like that very much!"

"Hee hee. You've got crumbs all over your cheek, Mr. Pinky," Olivia chuckled, reaching up to brush the wayward crumbs off the sides of his mouth. He smiled at her. She smiled back. Without saying anything more, she hugged him back, both of them munching on cheese as they giggled and guffawed at the rest of the show.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

September 21st, 1993 - 5:32 PM

Olivia was true to her word. Anyone who was anyone was invited to enroll in Pinky's class. In Olivia's eyes, that included her best friends, her parents, a few of her favorite teachers and other staff at the school, and Mrs. Judson. All invitations were turned down; all but three.

As it happened, Mrs. Brisby was close neighbors with Olivia, her father, and Mrs. Judson. This meant that Olivia had friends her age to play with: Timothy and Cynthia, to be exact, two of Brisby's four children. Cynthia was a little younger than her brother or Olivia, by about three years, but wherever Timothy went she had to follow, and so Olivia got two attendees for the price of one. The third was Evinrude, a mute dragonfly and friend of Bernard and Bianca. He was something of a loner, but took to scouting about the city and popping in on activities that interested him. Like Olivia, he sometimes reported news, sending letters from one neighbor to another in their little district and occasionally pausing to watch the kids at play. He pretended not to care, but Olivia secretly liked to think that he cared very much and kept an eye on them on purpose, as a sort of guardian. So when he happened to flit by as Olivia passed out verbal invitations to Timothy and Cynthia, she invited him, too.

No can do, Evinrude might have said, shaking his head. He flattened one little outstretched hand, palm down, and made a waving motion with the other in front of it.

"Busy?" Olivia asked, hands on her hips. "But you're always busy!"

"You should come, Evinrude," Timothy agreed in his delicate voice, little Cynthia peeking out shyly from behind him. "Might be fun."

The little dragonfly rolled his eyes at them.

"We're all going to his class tomorrow. I'm sure he'd love it if you came!" Olivia said, handing Evinrude a small card, which he accepted.

He cocked an eyebrow at the card, then looked back at Olivia, then at the card again. She'd actually taken the time out of her day to hand-make little business-card-sized invitations for everyone. Impressive. The card he was handed read thus:

New Class! with teacher Pinky!

ACME Arts and Scienses Berbank, Californeea 90095

2:00 Wendsday, September 22

Evinrude cocked an eyebrow at Olivia again. She was staring at him expectantly.

"And you'd better not be late, hmm?" she teased, trying to sound at least a little bit serious.

Evinrude shook his head, looking off into the distance.

"He's going to have snaaaaaaaacks," sung Olivia, batting her eyes at him pleadingly.

At this, Evinrude looked back at her in interest. If there was one thing they found equal footing on, besides being delivery hands of course, it was a fondness for food. He bopped his head lightly here and there, indicating that maybe, just maybe, he'd show up.

"Excellent! I'll see you tomorrow!" Olivia beamed, leaving Evinrude to shake his head one last time before flying off, card still in hand.

"Ohhhh, I don't think he'll there...," doubted Cynthia in her tiny little voice, finally emerging from behind her brother's back to stare at Evinrude as he flew off into the sunset.

"He will. You'll see," Olivia said, confident as anything as she sat down in the street to help Timothy assemble a small bug-catching kit.

"He'll eat all the food," Timothy pointed out, snapping two parts of the kit together.

Olivia drew her attention away from the bug kit to whip out a bright red pencil and piece of paper from her pocket, which she slapped down on the ground and began scribbling away on furiously.

"I know. That's okay. I just want him to spread the word."

"The word?"

"Mmhm. When he sees how fun Mr. Pinky's class is, he'll report it to everyone in town!" she said, finishing up her drawing and whipping it up in front of her face in a flourish to show it to Timothy. Embedded in the paper lay a very crude child's drawing of Pinky, stick-figure-like, his paws outstretched as he shouted 'Yay!' amidst scores of little star-like fireworks. "And then he'll always have a full classroom!"

/\/\/\/\/\/\

September 22nd, 1993 - 2:10 PM

Two o'clock came swift and sharp at Acme Arts and Sciences, but not swiftly enough for the kids. Olivia, Timothy, and Cynthia all waited against Pinky's classroom door, looking a little anxious. Olivia had managed to get a pass for her friends to enter the school for a couple of hours, thanks to Mrs. Judson, but it still felt a little awkward. Cynthia, being only four years old in mouse years, got bored easily, and Timothy was running out of ways to keep her occupied. They hadn't brought any puzzles or coloring books or board games, Olivia insisting that they wouldn't need them; Pinky's classes provided enough entertainment on their own. But it was 2:10 and he still hadn't shown up yet. Had she gotten the day wrong...?

Timothy picked carefully at a loose thread on his jeans. He'd need to sow that later.

"He's taking a while, isn't he?" he asked, looking tired.

"He probably got lost in the school again...," Olivia offered, ears drooping under her fat tam-o-shanter.

Timothy had managed to occupy Cynthia with a game of Jacks he'd brought, but he knew that it would only entertain her for so long. Already, she was starting to get bored of the bouncing ball, which kept rolling off to a far part of the hallway where either she or one of the others had to go up and get it.

A minute passed.

"Maybe we came on the wrong day," Timothy offered, trying to sound sympathetic despite his fatigue.

Olivia said nothing.

Five more minutes tip-toed by, one slow step at a time. Olivia pulled her legs up closer to her chest despite the heat. Were the hallways always this hot..? Maybe someone left the air on too long...

Timothy had shuffled a little, and was looking suspiciously as if he was about to get up and leave, when suddenly, from around the corner, Mr. Ronald Pinkus came flying, rolls of posters tucked up under his arms and sweat flying from his brow. It was unfortunate that the Jack ball rolled out of Cynthia's grasp right at that moment. It was even more unfortunate that it was Pinky's foot that found it.

"Sorry, kids, I- ARGGHHHHHH!"

Down he went... ZIP! ... crashing to the floor in a heap, posters flying everywhere.

"Are you all right, Mr. Pinky?!" Olivia asked, flying up onto her feet and rushing to Pinky's side. Timothy and Cynthia also stood, the older brother taking the initiative as he stepped up to peer at Mr. Pinky, a little concerned.

Pinky groaned, eyes rolling. After a few seconds, he propped himself up tenderly, shaking his head to rid himself of the little brie cheeses now dancing around him. Olivia held his head gently as Pinky rubbed at his neck.

"That looked nasty," Timothy said. "You need an ice pack?"

"You keep an ice pack in your backpack?" Olivia asked.

"No. But my Mum probably would make me if I could..."

"I'm all right! Ha-ha. Just broke a bone is all," Pinky grimaced, trying to look cheerful.

"You broke a bone?!" Olivia exclaimed.

"Ohhhhhh...," seconded Cynthia, hiding behind her brother again.

Pinky pulled out from under him something wrapped in a white napkin. Opening it up, he dangled from his fingers a broken chicken wing.

"Ohhhhh... you killed the chicken!" gasped Cynthia, covering her eyes.

"My lunch. Oh, I'm so sorry, Mr. Chicken Wing. I'll make it up to you, I promise!" Pinky lamented.

"Sorry about your lunch, Mr. Pinky," Olivia said remorsefully, head hanging.

"It's all right, Olivia. No harm done," Pinky assured her, lifting up her chin and giving her an encouraging smile. She couldn't help but smile back as Pinky sat up proper and gathered up his things, the kids helping him. "Now, who are these lovely people?"

"This is Timothy, and that's Cynthia. She's his little sister," Olivia pointed out helpfully, picking some of the dropped posters up off the floor.

"Nice to meet you!" Pinky said cheerily, shaking Timothy's hand and offering a paw to Cynthia, who nervously declined.

"Nice to meet you, Sir," Timothy replied, perhaps a bit too opulently. "Olivia says you're quite the showman."

"Well, she would know," Pinky chuckled, taking the remaining posters from Olivia with a nod of thanks. "And there's more where that came from!"

He opened the door to his classroom, flicking the light on as he entered. A bulb popped out as Olivia stepped in after him. Pinky looked up at it curiously.

"Hm. Will have to get that fixed then," he said, setting his things down on the table.

Timothy slowly tip-toed inside, taking in the very plain sights and the very unusual smells (Gouda, some sort of leathery cologne, and was that... radish?), with Cynthia following behind him at a cautious pace. She didn't much care for the radish smell and wrinkled her nose at the unpleasant scent. Timothy, however, drank it all in. He rather thought it was an interesting blend of eclectic aromas and savored every one, eyes closed as he deeply inhaled, the whisper of a smile on his lips.

"What are we doing today, Mr. Pinky?" Olivia asked, already by his side as she eagerly looked up into his face.

"Well, Miss Olivia, we are going to go on an adventure!" he said, unraveling one of the big, thick posters with a flourish.

Olivia gasped excitedly, and Timothy's ears flicked as he looked over at Pinky, intrigued.

"What kind of an adventure?" asked Timothy.

"You'll seeeeeee!" Pinky winked. "Help me put these posters up, everyone!"

And so they each grabbed a poster, save for Cynthia. She still wasn't quite ready to make friends yet. Everyone picked a random portion of wall upon which to paste their sizeable poster, but it became apparent, after a few failed attempts to open up what kept wanting to roll back closed, that something was missing.

"Mr. Pinky?" Olivia mumbled, struggling a little as a large roll of poster traveled down the wall she was attempting to lay it onto and bumped into her face, ruffling her whiskers. She sneezed. Even the posters had a smell: tomato, with a hint of garlic. "Aren't we supposed to have something to keep the posters up on the wall?"

"I concur," groaned Timothy, having just as bad of a time as Cynthia. He eventually gave up, letting the poster fall... right onto his little sister. She squeaked. "Oh. Sorry, Cynthia," he apologized, plucking it off of her as she shook her head of the smell, although this one she rather liked.

"Ohhhhhhhh. That's what I was forgetting!" Pinky exclaimed, chuckling to himself. "Just a moment!"

And he ran back to his medical bag, dug around in it, and pulled out a small clear case filled with push-pins. He set it down on a nearby chair, the better for smaller mousies to reach.

"Here ya' go!" he offered, taking a few in his paw and returning to his poster.

The kids ran over to take a look. There were many push-pins, all different colors of the rainbow: blue, purple, yellow, green, pink, white, and more. Olivia thought they were quite pretty to look at. Even Cynthia couldn't help but step forward to take a closer look at the dazzling arrangement.

"Ooooo. Pretty!" she remarked, stretching out a paw to grab a handful.

"Hold up, Cynthia," Timothy said, throwing out an arm. "Those are sharp on the end. You don't want to get hurt."

Cynthia's ears drooped at this.

"Here. I'll pick four out for you. Hold out your paw. Come on."

Cynthia did as she was told. Timothy picked out and set gently in her hand four differently colored push-pins - violet, turquoise, sunshine-y yellow, and ivory. The youngest mouse's eyes went wide.

"Be careful with them, okay?"

"Okay," Cynthia mumbled, only partially listening. They were all so pretty. She wanted the whole case.

Push-pins in hand, the quartet found it much easier to hang up the posters. Not all stood at the same height, as the kids had to use chairs to get them at least high enough that the poster bottoms wouldn't lay out on the floor, but Pinky didn't seem to mind. He was just happy to have company, as were the kids. They talked about their posters as they put them up, and after fifteen minutes of pushing and pinning, they could admire their work.

Sixteen posters wrapped around the classroom, painting the walls with numerous vacation spots, national landmarks, and beautiful landscapes. Some featured tall waterfalls splashing down into azure blue pools below; others seemed lost in a lush rainforest decorated with vibrantly-patterned butterflies; but most of them highlighted the beach. There were posters of alluring islands, sandy California backdrops, and palm trees set against brilliant sunsets. It was enough to make anyone want to jump into one of those appealing vistas right then and there and float away - get lost in paradise.

"What now, Mr. Pinky?" Olivia asked, voice drowning in excitement and anticipation. Whatever came next, it had to be good.

"Nooooooow," prefaced Pinky, flashing his toothy grin, "We get out the boat!"

And from a far corner of the room, he pulled a large cardboard box; just big enough for all four of them to sit rather uncomfortably in. Pinky initiated, setting the box in front of the desk and jumping inside of it.

"Come on, everyone!" he encouraged, motioning them with a hand to join him.

"Woo! Yes!" Olivia exclaimed, hopping in and sitting down between Pinky's legs without a second thought. "Come on, guys!" she called to the others.

Timothy looked a little suspicious. He walked all the way around the box, inspecting it inside and out, before standing in front of it, arms folded, and tossing a very questioning glance indeed at the mice.

"You sure?"

"Absolutely!" Pinky confirmed. "Come on! You're gonna miss all the fun!"

"Yeah, come on, Timothy! It won't hurt," Olivia reassured him with a helpful smile.

"I'm not scared," Timothy admitted, squishing in to sit, a little cramped, in front of Olivia as he said it.

Only Cynthia remained. Timothy reached out both arms for her.

"Come on, silly," he invited, but she remained suspicious. Two little paws crawled up over the edge as she took a peek inside.

"Is it going to hurt?" she asked.

"Olivia just said it wouldn't, so come on," prodded Timothy again, and this time she slipped into his arms, taking a spot on his lap as she looked around, a bit nervous.

"All right, kids. You ready?" Pinky asked.

"Ready!" Olivia replied.

"Ready... I think." Timothy responded.

Cynthia said nothing.

"Alllll right. Start rowing!" Pinky commanded, and he began rowing the make-shift "boat" with imaginary oars, Olivia following suit, with Timothy hesitantly joining in a few seconds later. Cynthia simply sat there on her big brother's lap, giggling a little as she watched them all row.

"Okay. Now, clooooooose your eyes...," Pinky instructed. They all obeyed. Well, almost all... "Aaaaaand... OPEN THEM!"

They did as he was told... and GASPED.

No longer were they on the floor of an abandoned school classroom, sitting in a cardboard box surrounded by promises of tropical get-a-ways painting the walls. They were actually on the ocean, nestled inside a little white dinghy boat, and encompassed about by skies of deep blue, orange, and pink, with picturesque clouds completing the image. To their port and starboard sides, dolphins leapt gaily along with them, and in the distance, straight ahead of them, lay a magnificent island, decorated elaborately with all manner of palm trees, and promising a very grand adventure indeed.

Olivia clapped and cheered, bouncing up and down in her seat in pure ecstasy.

"I told you! I told you! He's a magician!" Olivia told Timothy with great exuberance, Pinky chuckling behind her as he continued rowing.

Timothy's mouth was agape in pure wonderment, his eyes as wide as saucers. How... was this possible? He said nothing as he stared all about him, head turning this way and that to take in the sights, sounds, and smells surrounding him, bombarding his senses, practically lifting him off his feet.

"Wow...," he finally breathed out, a smile crawling up his face. "This is so high..."

"Come again..?" Pinky asked, his ears dropping alarmingly as he slowed down his rowing to stare concernedly at the boy.

"Huh?"

"This is so... what?"

"Oh. High. Like... way up high? Like when you're up at the top of a tall tree and feel like you're flying? It's cool."

Pinky chuckled. He couldn't help it.

"You might want to use a different word when around adults there. Just sayin'."

Timothy cocked an eyebrow at him, but didn't say anything against it. He simply shrugged.

Cynthia was the only one of the set who hadn't yet found the wonderment in the situation. As far as she could see, they were still in the same box on the same floor in the same classroom. They were all cuckoo.

"What are you guys talking about? I don't see anything!" she complained, turning this way and that on her brother's lap in the hopes that she might catch a glimpse of a seagull or a dolphin.

"That's because you didn't close your eyes, Cynthia," Timothy said matter-of-factly.

"Yes. You have to close your eyes!" concurred Olivia.

"Close your eyes, Cynthia, and only open them when I say!" Pinky said.

"Okay...," said Cynthia, doing as she was told.

"All right... Aaaaaaaaaand... OPEN THEM!"

Cynthia opened her eyes.

"Woooooooooaaaaaaaaaaah...!"

"Told you!" Olivia beamed, giggling.

"Are we on the ocean..?!" Cynthia gasped, jumping a little as a dolphin flew out of the water right next to them, diving back in with a splash and spraying them all with sea droplets. They shook their fur, laughing.

"We most certainly are! Do you like it?" Pinky asked, just a tinge of uncertainty peppering his tone.

Cynthia had to think about this for two whole seconds. Then she blurted out her answer.

"YES!"

Pinky smiled.

"Are we going all the way to that island?" Olivia asked, pointing to the floating figure seemingly miles ahead of them.

"You betcha! And we'll need music to do it."

Out of nowhere, he pulled out a small boombox, clicked "Play" on the top for the CD player, and out belted a familiar tune. Both Pinky and Olivia started singing it right away, with Timothy and Cynthia joining in to hum along with the tune.

Just sit right back, And you'll hear a tale, A tale of a fateful trip, That started from this tropic port, Aboard this tiny ship...

At the start of the music, the boat zoomed off of its own accord towards the island, powered by the wind, the sea, and the song.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

4:00 PM

The kids left classroom 210 with spirits high and hearts glowing. Olivia thanked Pinky over and over again, Timothy was still commenting on how their adventure felt like something right out of a movie, and Cynthia lamented that she couldn't keep the little hulu skirt she'd strung. One's imagination, it seemed, could only take things so far. Nothing they physically created in the classroom could be brought outside of it. Once they stepped off the island, all manner of sun, sea, and sand was gone, including anything they'd gathered or made on the island. The box was just a box; the floor just a floor; the posters just posters. It was as if none of it had ever happened. But the memories remained.

"Oh, thank you, Mr. Pinky!" Olivia thanked him for the thousandth time. "I'll bring more next time!"

"No worries, Olivia! Shall I put you all down on my class list then?" Pinky asked, whipping out a clipboard, complete with paper and pen, and holding the pen at the ready.

"Yes, please! You're coming again, right?" she asked her friends.

Timothy thought for a moment. As exciting as it all had been, one had to be practical, after all; at least, Timothy did.

"Well, as long as our Mum says it's all right, then I suppose that would be fine," he conceded, smiling. "I'll go ask her. I think she's working today."

"Oh, please, can we? I wanna go back to the island!" Cynthia squeaked, bouncing up and down as she pulled at Timothy's shirt sleeve.

"We will, as long as Mum says it's okay."

"We'd better go. Will we see you tomorrow, Mr. Pinky?" Olivia asked hopefully.

"2:00 o'clock sharp," Pinky said, winking at her.

Off they went, leaving Pinky behind to stare after them fondly. He smiled and went back into his classroom, closing the door behind him with a soft snap.

"So what do you think?" Olivia asked as the three kids headed down the hallway.

"I like him!" Cynthia piped up immediately.

"I like him, too," Timothy said. "Too bad Evinrude didn't show up."

"Oh, that's all right. He'll come eventually. He'll want to eat all the snacks!"

All three of them laughed, gay as little summer flowers as they made their way to Mrs. Brisby's classroom.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

October 1st, 1993

Over a week had passed since Pinky, Olivia, Timothy, and Cynthia had traveled to their own little Gilligan's Island. Fall was in full swing, with red, orange, and yellow decorating the campus, pumpkin muffins and apple cider stalls set up in various spots around the school, and warm sweaters and boots taking the place of short-sleeved shirts and sandals. The usual hall chatter and gossip traveled throughout the university, with topics ranging from the latest Beverly Hills: 90210 episode... to Nirvana's album release from last month, or, if you were one of the computer nerds, raving over some new game called Myst.

Talk of Halloween was already in the air, with the occasional crow figure or carved Jack-o'-lantern popping up here or there in a classroom. Pinky was considering throwing a party in light of the occasion. Many of the teachers excitedly agreed. Some did not. Basil thought it was a foolish affair, and Mr. Ages could very well have done without. Globetrotter heartily concurred. Strangely, the principal, a normally very hard-lined individual, was all for it. Those who knew him well, however, would have said that costuming and a flair for the dramatic was undoubtedly his thing, and that he wouldn't pass up an opportunity to show off in a vampire wardrobe or kingly dress. While some were turned off by the possibility of his showing up, others were all the more intrigued, and conversation over the matter increased tenfold.

The only thing more interesting than Halloween parties or album covers were Pinky's classes. Olivia had managed to gather up a few more friends over the course of a week. The news had spread fast. Timothy had told Despereaux, who had told Ralph, who had then told Nibbles. Olivia spread the word to Abigail, whom had then blabbed to Teresa and Martin, Timothy and Cynthia's elder sister and brother. One by one, they all showed up, day-by-day. Even Evinrude popped in once or twice, although not because he wanted to. He just wanted to "check on the kids; make sure they were okay" according to him. Olivia rolled her eyes at this, not at all blind to his grabbing a hearty helping of snacks at the end of each session.

Gilligan's Island turned out to be a popular travel spot in Pinky's class. It was the most requested and undoubtedly the most talked about. The theme song alone ended up making the rounds throughout the school. It started with Olivia whistling or humming it down the halls, caught on when several teachers and students copied her, and now whenever she skipped about the university pupils and instructors would often whistle the tune back to her. Even Basil caught himself humming along now and again, although he'd quickly cease and desist, shaking his head, when he realized what he was doing.

The first actual university student to sign up for Trozology was Teresa. She'd been pulled into it by Timothy, and her brother Martin soon followed suit. She'd been hesitant at first; after all, signing up for a new class this late into the semester was unusual, and not even allowed most of the time, but her siblings' interest in it was intriguing. What was meant to be a one-time dip in the pool ended up becoming a daily swimming excursion. Trozology, whatever it was, came with no homework, no punishment for answering a question wrong, no heavy books to lift, and, best of all, no stress. It was the first class she'd ever attended where she felt like she could be herself, and was a welcome reprieve amidst the chaos that was piles upon piles of essays, tests, and expectations she felt were upon her to succeed. This, she thought, would be beneficial to others who were also struggling. She had to tell someone...

"Someone" ended up being a couple of friends in the school. Although they didn't sign up, the idea of being transported to other tangible worlds simply via imagination alone was intriguing, even if they didn't entirely believe her. It was certainly more interesting than most anything else in the school, and Teresa's response to the class was so infectious that they couldn't help but pass by Pinky's classroom door window every now and again to take a peek. All they ever saw, however, was the teacher and maybe half a dozen kids "rowing" in a box on the floor, or standing on top of the desk pretending to climb a mountain, or sometimes just sitting in chairs watching tv. It certainly didn't look very exciting.

"No no! You have to actually participate!" Teresa insisted. "You have to commit!"

Still, no one else signed up, but Teresa continued to attend, perfectly at home with Pinky and the kids. It was fortunate that the principal never came out of his office past 5:00 PM. It was common knowledge that he detested children. Mrs. Judson only allowed them all entrance due to the area and the hour - Pinky's room was located in a section of hallway that the principal rarely frequented, and since his classes always started at 2:00 PM and went no later than 4:00 PM, it got a pass.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

7:01 PM

Down the hall and around a corner, an hour after having dismissed his last class for the day, Globetrotter exited the room, shut the heavy, mahogany door and locked it. His was one of only four doors in the entire university that was equipped with such a mechanism; at least, regarding personnel rooms. The other three were the principal's office, the janitor's closet, and the nurse's office. He'd paid for the installation himself. It wasn't that anything had ever been stolen from his classroom. Indeed, if one pillaged it they'd surely find nothing worth stealing. Globetrotter was simply paranoid, and everyone knew it.

He was late. On some nights, he took to grading students' homework on the property instead of at home, partially to get it over with sooner, but mainly because he wanted to spend extra time in the lab. No one questioned his staying back late. No one would dare to. What he estimated would take half an hour took half an hour more than that. Martha's grammar simply needed policing, and he wouldn't stand for Trevor's snide remark about the Germ-Line Theory being conclusive. If he needed to linger for an entire hour for the sake of science then so be it.

Snap went the door, and Click went the lock as Globetrotter bowed from his office (the better to pick up his heavy suitcase) and made for the elevator.

Back around the corner and down the hall, Pinky closed shut his door, which he did not lock, and made for room three-nineteen. He knocked. There was no answer.

"Hmmmm," Pinky mused.

"Mr. Globetrotter...?" he called, knocking again. "I have something for youuuu!"

Still nothing. Perhaps he'd gone home?

Ding.

Pinky's ears perked. Of course. He must have taken the elevator.

Off he skipped to the elevator hall. No one there. But he could hear the whirring of the machine, and as he looked up at the lit numbers above, he saw that the little arrow was slowly moving down... down... down to the basement level. Goody! That wasn't very far down. He could take the stairwell.

And that's just what he did. Down... down... down to the basement. He hummed as he went, and his humming turned into whistling. He liked the echo it made in the stairwell. It was a bouncy little tune, rather monotonous in nature, but also rather catchy. He wasn't quite sure where it came from, or why it came, but he liked it all the same.

He peeked around the door corner as he made to exit the stairwell, and was about to wave at and call out to Globetrotter, when he paused, keeping uncharacteristically quiet as he watched Brain step off the elevator, shuffle up to the wall, and place his hand on the wall. A little spot on it glowed green, acknowledging his paw print, and the wall... opened up.

Pinky almost gasped out loud, but slapped a paw over his mouth just in time. Once Globetrotter had disappeared behind the wall, Pinky tip-toed up to it and stared at it for a long while, which, for him, was about ten seconds.

"Brain?" he pondered, curious.

What was it he was doing back there?

Pinky looked at the wall. There was no green panel that he could see, but there was a square-ish gray one. He tapped on it tentatively. Nothing happened.

"Hmmm."

He looked at it more closely. There was a little groove in the side. He picked at it.

The little door swung open.

Sure enough, there was the panel. It glowed a bright green color as soon as it was exposed. Pinky cocked his head, looked at his left paw, and touched it to the pad. As soon as he did so, it glowed red and beeped angrily at him twice. No good.

He tried again, and again. Nothing. He even tried putting his foot on it, then his tail, then his tongue, but no matter what he did, it wouldn't gain him access. Seemed like it was Pinky-proof; friendly only to Globetrotter. He sighed and pressed his ear against the wall. If he strained his auditory senses, he could just make out the sound of fingers tapping on a keyboard.

"Naaaaaaarf," he remarked to himself in a whisper. "Egad. What are you doing in there, Brain?"

He listened again. Now he could hear bottles clinking around; papers being shuffled. Now nothing at all. And now, swiftly, suddenly, the sound of footsteps slapping across the floor eagerly, drawing ever closer... and closer, right towards the wall...

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

Author's Notes:

- The potion colors represent aspects of Brain's personality. Cinnamon: Potent, with a bite. Emerald: Outlook on self as royalty/important. Green is also associated with greed and ambition. Lilac: Can symbolize confidence and love. He has a soft heart deep down. Azure: Associated with the sky. I'd like to think of it as he has high and lofty ambitions/goals, but, like the sky (or the ocean), which leads up into space, he's also a vast pool of intrigue and mystery. There's a lot about him that is hidden and undiscovered.

- I thought about making Brain left-handed, but went with ambidextrous instead.

- Brain dealing with bowel issues is a joke, although it will still have pertinence in the story. I just find the idea of a high-ranking professor who considers himself very dignified dealing with explosive diarrhea incredibly funny. XD

[nomimits7]

Isolation Drabble 9

Title: Isolation

Genre: Just some random drabbles

Warnings: goofy bangtan... all seven of them in one kitchen = disaster.

Paring: BTS x reader

A/N: Our Lockdown was extended, and I am not a very happy person at the moment. I know there are people out there who have been in lockdown for over 2 months… I just never thought I would handle it this bad. My stress levels are rising, and I can’t seem to calm down.

#8

∞

When the doctor left, all the boys could do was stare. They felt so bad, especially Jimin and Hoseok for leaving you on the roof the way they did. In their defense, you said a lot of hurtful things and they thought it would be best to leave you alone for a little while. They didn’t know you never came down.

Yes, they did eat lunch without you, but they did save you a seat. When you didn’t show up for lunch they simply thought you didn’t want to be around them. So, when dinner came around they didn’t bother saving you a seat.

You were dehydrated, almost to the point of hospitalization. You had a mild case of heatstroke from the exposure to the sun's unforgiving rays. And your energy levels were nearly none existent. To put it simply, you were in bad shape. The doctor told them you would start regaining consciousness as soon as the drip he put you on was doing its job.

An hour and a half have passed since the drip ran dry and you were still sleeping peacefully. Your color looked better but your burns on your skin weren’t. that’s when Namjoon decided to start treating them as well. It was a delicate job that entailed them removing some of your clothes to replace them with softer and more comfortable clothes, which had them all as red as tomatoes.

As softly as he could Namjoon starts applying some aloe to your burns. Yoongi, Hoseok, and Jimin helped Namjoon with the whole procedure. The aloe would take the hurt away and perhaps help the skin to heal faster. Before long they were done and heading out to wash their hands.

Seokjin, Jungkook, and Taehyung were in the kitchen, cooking up a storm for when you would wake up. The place was a total mess but they didn’t care. Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, and Jimin soon joined them. Everyone doing something in an effort to keep busy.

∞

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was the way your limbs ached, your skin screaming at you for moving even in the slightest. The next thing you notice is the change of clothes and the fact that you had a very suspicious-looking bandage on your arm. The last thing you notice was the redness of your skin and the pounding headache.

As if on cue, the memories of your recent encounter on the roof played out in your mind. You felt like shit to put it frankly. Why the hell did you explode like that? And toward one of the boys no less. What the hell was wrong with you? Oh, yeah you were an emotional witch that couldn’t even handle a simple bad mood.

Swallowing your pride, you carefully got up and started towards the door. You could feel every step but the bottle of aloe next to your bed told you that someone out here still cared. So, you ignored the screams of your body and headed towards the only noise you could hear. The clinking of pots and pans and the silent whispers drifting from the kitchen.

The boys were so consumed in their tasks that they failed to notice your presence lurking at the door. You simply observed them from your spot, a slight smiling tugging at your lips. They all looked stressed yet in some way at home. No one bumped into each other, it was like they could feel each other’s presence and it just worked.

That was until Namjoon tripped over nothing and bumped into Yoongi, who seems to domino into Jimin. Jimin, in turn, crashed into Seokjin, who let out a squeak as he tumbled into Jungkook and Taehyung. Both of them came crashing into poor Hoseok who finally landed at your feet. A sound similar to ‘oof’ leaving his lips.

Without thinking twice, you doubled over as laughter bubbled past your lips at the scene that unfolded before you. You tried muffling your laughter with your hands but failed miserably when you saw their shocked faces staring at. Your stomach muscles cramping and tears escaped your eyes as you tried to calm down. Key word being tried.

It didn’t take long for the boys to all join in on your laughing marathon, or for you to join them on the floor. Soon the laughter died down and you all were left staring at each other, waiting for something to happen. That something came in the form of your voice.

“I’m so sorry for lashing out at you Hobi. I feel like shit for not being able to control my own moods.” You opted for staring at your feet after the words left your mouth. You still felt like shit and you had no other way of dealing with it than apologizing.

“We should be the ones apologizing Y/N. We could see you weren’t your normal self, yet we still pushed your buttons. And above all, we didn’t even notice your absence from the house until it was too late and now you have sunburn and mild heatstroke. You passed out for heaven's sake. We’re the ones who feel like shit. Speaking of… are you hungry? Please say yes, we’ve been preparing so much food…” Hoseok trailed off at that.

“I would love to eat something. Thank you boys” you said. Eyes regaining their shine. You found it extremely cute how Hoseok went into a full-on ramble as soon as he started talking. Never in your life do you ever want to see them hurt because of you. Somehow that just felt wrong.

You have come to love their smiles. You would do anything to keep them happy, even if it meant swallowing your own pride.

You want to be part of the taglist? Feel free to ask!

Taglist thingy: @vividwoosan​ @slutkoo​

[queerbutstillhere]

Hi, honey!! I'm back on Tumblr hohoiii 😆 If you still accept prompts can I ask you for: Damian and Jonno's children (a boy and a girl, God knows why😶) are sent to the past and met their daddys who are recently dating. ((Please, make it extremely awkward, some Batfam too)) tysm😙

(Once again, thank ya for giving me a chance to work with these kiddos! I hope you like this!!)

The portal dumped them out in the middle of the air. Because of course it did.

The two screaming kid vigilantes grabbed at each other as they plumpted through the air. Zaina willed her fluctuating powers to kick in, and sure enough, the adrenaline caused the surge and she snatched her brother out of the air, slowing their fall.

"Oof! You're heavy!" She exclaimed, scowling down at him.

"I am not!" The younger teen, built like a rugby player, said with a scowl.

"Yes you are!"

She looked around, flying to the nearby roof and touching down on it, she "gently" dropped her brother to the graveled roof of the tall building.

"Where are we?" Malik asked, popping up and looking around.

"Ummm."

He was already activating his lenses, which were glowing blue now. He looked around, turning a full circle.

"I think we're in Gotham," Zaina asked, walking to the edge and looking down.

"Really? Did he just teleport us away."

"... No, look."

Zaina pointed across the street to billboard on the side of a building, one that had Bruce Wayne, and something about Wayne Industries.

"Oh my God," Malik exclaimed. "Sis. I think we were sent back in time."

Zaina and Malik Wayne-Kent were the children of Damian Wayne and Jon Kent, they had been adopted at 5 and 3, respectively, and had lived with their parents for thirteen years now. Both were born Arabic, but had met Jon during a crisis in their Homeland, their mother having been killed in it, and Jon took very quick steps to make sure the kids were okay, and not long after, he and Damian decided to adopt them.

Zaina was eighteen now, and yet still shorter then her brother. She was only 5'5", and fairly muscular from having done gymnastics almost her whole life. Her black hair was cut short in a shoulder length bob, and she had darker skin like her father. She had, a few months ago, been exposed to platinum kryptonite, and had thus gained the powers of Superman. Only they were still on the fritz. It made her wince to remember the weeks when her hearing was changing, and when her eyes evolved. The good news was she didn't need glasses. Her father had wanted to take them away, but Zaina had begged and begged and made full persuasive essays and finally convinced him to allow her a trial period.

Malik was only sixteen and but he was tall, and broad in the shoulders. He played lacrosse and worked out and ran and all those things, and yes, he was in a rugby league. He was already a hottie at sixteen, and Zaina could not count the amount of girls she had chased away from her brother. His dark hair, more brown then black, was kept short, shaved on the sides and just a little bit of fluff on top. He had no powers, just his wicked sharp intellect and skills with technology.

They had both become teen vigilantes a few years back, having adopted adaptations of some of the previous heroes in their family line. Zaina had become Robin, with a bit of a twist on the uniform, it was more solid black, with splashed of color here and there, her boots, her belt, her cape, her gloves. So on. Soon she probably would switch to a Super title when her powers fully developed. Malik had made his own name, Batboy, until he felt he had earned the Batman title from his father. His costume was a lot like the Black Bat costume, and his cowl didn't completely cover his head, just came up his neck and around his eyes, his hair sticking out the top, and the classic bat ears poking up from the sides.

Their parents had both stepped down from their vigilante rolls for the most part while they were raising the kids, but when the siblings had started sneaking out, they decided to pick the rolls back up so they could properly train them, and watch their backs until they were ready to go out. It's doubtful they ever thought this would happen.....

Their game plan was simple. Find Batman or one of their uncles. Explain. Get taken back to the batcave, and then to the Watchtower so Waverider or someone can send them back to their time.

They split up after Malik resynced their comms, going to opposite ends of the town. Zaina was flying, scanning the streets, listening for the sounds of her family. And then, as it tends to do, her powers just gave out. She screamed as she started falling, scrambling for her grapple gun, which Malik wisely made her keep. And then she landed on something with a small thunk.

"Hey there, you better slow down a bit, shouldn't jump without a grapple in hand."

She recognized that voice. It was a bit younger, a bit more innocent and lively, but she recognized it all the same. She twisted in her savior's arms, looking up at Superboy.

"Pops!" She exclaimed joyfully, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly.

She probably shouldn't have done that.

Jon chuckled nervously, keeping his hold on her.

"I think you have me mistaken for someone else..."

"Oh. . . No. It's a long story, we need to find ba- Robin, or errrrr....." She paused, considering how she should do this. "What year is it?"

"2019?"

"Okay. We need to find Robin."

".... Who are you?"

"I'm also Robin, but from the future."

Malik had similar luck. He had been poking around the narrows, secretly hoping to find Red Hood, when the screaming hit him. His sensors started going crazy seconds before he could hear it, and then he took off, running through the streets and weaving between cars and signs to reach the source.

He burst around the corner and found a full on gang street fight going down, a couple kids stuck in the middle.

"Hey!" He yelled, his voice projected slightly by his tech.

A couple people paused and turned to him. He grabbed his Bo staff, fully expanding it and hitting a button to send electrical currents through it.

"Back away from the kids."

One of them scoffed, stepping forwards.

"It's one of them batkids. Soak 'em, boys."

Malik easily knocked out the first two, flipping off the third to get back out of range of their bats and knuckles.

"Oh ho! He thinks he's hot shit!"

More thugs rushed at him, but Malik was used to this, he easily beat them all down. Until one got behind him, arms wrapping around his upper arms and squeezing. Another grabbed his Bo at the insulated section, preventing him from hitting anyone.

Then there was a thump and the person behind him let go. Malik reared forwards, headbutting the person in front of him. He judo flipped them quickly before turning back to find the kids. They were huddled against the wall. He took a running start and flipped over some thugs, ducking past others until he was at the kids. There were three total, two younger ones, and a teen, not much younger then him.

"Hi," he said with a smile, smacking another thug with his bo. "I'm going to get you children out of here okay?"

They nodded rapidly. Malik considered his options and then looked at the oldest.

"I need you to carry the smaller one."

She nodded, quickly getting him on her back piggyback style. Malik picked up the other kid the same way. Then he produced his grapple and aimed for the roof. Once it was hooked, he put away his baton, and grabbed the girl with his free arm. They quickly were yanked up and swung over the crowd of gang members to the end of the Street, where it was clear and safe. His shoulder complained greatly, but it was fine.

When he landed, set down the kids and turned around, everyone was gone. Except a vigilante. Robin. His baba.

He recognized his father instantly, having seen enough pictures to know, even with the significant difference.

"Oh thank God."

Robin eyed him warily.

"Who are you."

"I think we best wait for-"

His sensors beeped in annoyance at the detection of two Kryptonian's. He turned and found his sister and a much younger version of his pops landing, Zaina on Jon's back.

"Sis! Are you okay?!" He exclaimed, ditching Damian to run to her. She jumped off and ran over, meeting him and grabbing his face, scanning him over.

"I'm fine! I heard all the fighting!"

"I'm okay, did your powers give out again?"

"Yes! I was up four stories and they dropped and-"

"I told you not to get that high!" Malik protested.

"Hey! Don't lecture me!" Zaina glanced to the side and froze. "You found Baba?"

"Yeah."

"Are we going to tell them?"

"What else do you have in mind?"

"Doesn't that break time travel rules?"

Malik gave his sister an annoyed face.

"No- God, that's not- no, Z, no."

"Excuse me. We have questions," Jon said, stepping up.

"Police are almost here," Malik shot back, the lenses of his mask slightly blue. "We'll talk after."

After they cleared things up with the police, they headed to the batcave, and Malik immediately felt more relaxed in the familiar, yet older interior. He didn't hesitate to pull his mask off, looking around, noting the differences.

"Robin what is this?"

He glanced over to see Batman and immediately went still.

Bruce had died with they were young, they had barely gotten to know him, and Malik especially had very few memories of him... Zaina, on the other hand, gave a sob like noise and smacked her hand over her mouth. Everyone looked at her, confused.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, composing herself. She too reached up and took her mask off.

"You would like an explanation?" Malik questioned, even as he tapped at the screen attached into his glove.

"We would," Damian responded, eyeing him warily.

"I'm Malik Wayne-Kent, this is my sister, Zaina Wayne-Kent, and we're from the future."

Silence hung over the cave after his words and Damian looked thoroughly shocked.

"I'm sorry," Jon said, speaking up. "Did you say, Wayne-Kent?"

"Yes."

Damian opened his mouth, shut it once, and then spoke. "Please tell me you are Drake's children?"

"Afraid not," Zaina said with a head shake. "You're our baba."

There was another several beats of silence, and then Bruce seemed to put two and two together.

"And your other parent is..... Jon?"

Malik nodded. "Pops."

"Which makes me your grandfather."

Another nod from Zaina.

"You're kidding me. If you're joking right now I'll-" Damian clenched his jaw and looked up at Jon.

"Wait, are you two.... What half of 2019 is this?" Malik asked. "Have you not started dating yet?"

Bruce opened his mouth, looking at his son, and then back at his future grandchildren.

"Oh, dear," Zaina said softly, leaning into her brother. "I don't think they have."

"Oops."

"Wait so you're telling me we get married?!" Jon exclaimed, shocked.

"Uh, well in our timeline you do. When we got spit out here, we created a separate time line from ours."

"And. She . . . She has powers," Jon said, pointing at Zaina.

"I was given them by Platinum kryptonite," Zaina explained. "You wanted to take them away, baba, but I managed to convince you otherwise."

"Sounds like something you'd do," Jon said, nudging Damian.

"Shush, Jon, this is important. We have to get them back to their timeline before we change anything else accidentally."

Bruce was sitting there in silence and then he looked to his son.

"Damian. Are you two dating?"

Damian winced slightly. "Just a few weeks ago...."

"... Okay. I'm going to go prep the jet. We'll head to the watchtower."

The four watched him walk away. Then Zaina looked at Damian.

"It's really odd seeing you guys do young," she said, smiling lightly.

"I imagine so... We really let you two be vigilantes?"

"You didn't really have a choice. I hacked into the cave and then we snuck out every night until you decided to just train us."

Damian and Jon didn't quite know what to do with their children, just kinda awkwardly looked at them.

Malik finally turned and walked away, over to the dino. "Man, this thing is so old."

"Okay, you young pup," Zaina said with a laugh, following after.

"So whose all what in this time line?" Zaina asked, looking over to Damian and Jon, who were whispering softly.

"Pardon?" Damian asked in a cold tone she wasn't used too.

"Uncle Dickie, he's.... Nightwing?"

Jon nodded, his arm was around Damian now.

"Dick's Nightwing, Jason is Red Hood. Cass is Black Bat, Barbara is Batgirl slash Oracle, Steph is Spoiler, and Tim is .... Drake," their pops explained. "Obviously we're Superboy and Robin, and Bruce is Batman."

"Bruce is dead in your timeline isn't he?" Damian asked, walking away from Jon and torwards them.

They exchanged a look, and then Malik nodded.

"There was an accident.... No one could stop it. I'm sorry," he said softly.

Damian shook his head, gently hugging Malik.

"No. I'm sorry. How old were you?"

"I was only five, Zaina was eight."

"I remember him more then Malik," Zaina offered, looking sad now.

Malik, hugging his baba back, looked up to Jon, who looked contemplative.

"But, again, we accidentally changed your time line, so that may not happen. Just like you two may not get married, and you may not adopt us."

"... As far as I'm concerned those seem like fixed points in time," Jon said.

Damian sighed and pulled back, giving Jon a look, and then he hugged Zaina.

"Who am I? In your time?"

"First and foremost your our dad," she answered. "But you're also a businessman and Batman. Once Malik is old enough, you're going to give him Batman."

Damian nodded as he considered this, but went silent, stepping back to stand next to Jon.

They had a very awkward flight to the Watchtower, Zaina and Jon quietly chatting about their powers, and what Zaina had developed so far. Malik sat next to Damian, silently working on his tech, as always. He was obsessive about keeping it updated, always changing the programing. Some of his features didn't work due to the lack of connection to the Wayne Satellites of the future, but enough of them did that he could still preform scans, bouncing off nearby cell phone towers.

"What's that?" Damian asked, watching him tap at the screen on his forearm.

"It's my control panel."

"For what?"

"My OTL."

"What."

"It's. . . Optical lenses in my mask, look."

Malik held it up, flicked on the blue lenses and then turned, looking at Zaina. On his screen, a digital display of a file popped up.

"I can also do this."

He triple tapped it and it was projected up into a hologram.

"Oh."

Zaina leaned forwards, arms on her brothers shoulders. "Malik's a genius. He programs all his tech himself. Even uncle Tim and Aunt Babs can't keep up with him."

Malik flushed, looking down. "I just like programming."

"You'd never guess it, from his public appearance, but he'd a major nerd. Jock Nerd type."

"Okay Prep Jock, shut your mouth."

Zaina giggled.

"So, what are you two's vigilante names?" Bruce asked from the cockpit.

"I'm Robin," Zaina answered, looking up to her grandfather. "But pops and I have agreed once my powers and are more consistent, I'm going to take up another name, Supergirl or something."

"And I'm Batboy, for now."

Bruce nodded slightly.

"I know you guys have a lot of questions, but I am afraid we won't be able to answer some of them," Malik said. "There's somethings I don't dare mess with, timeline wise."

"We understand," Bruce answered. "this isn't our first time messing with time travel."

The rest of the flight was awkward silence. They got to the watchtower and confused everyone they talked to.

"Where's Waverider?" Bruce asked J'onn, who was on duty at that moment.

"He has not been around for several-"

There was a burst of sparks and then suddenly Waverider appeared in front of them. He gave Malik and Zaina a startled look. They waved.

"You two are much bigger," he remarked.

"Well, that's what happens when you aren't hoping around the time stream," Zaina said with a grin.

"Your father's are probably waiting for you," he said, walking over to them. "Let's go."

"Wait!" Zaina backed away, and then spun to Bruce. "I know you don't know me. But... Can I just give you a hug?"

Bruce chuckled and nodded, opening his arms. "Come here."

She ran over, crashing into his body, hugging him tightly. Bruce gently hugged her, rubbing her back.

"It's okay, I don't know what happens, but I understand," Bruce said softly, kissing her head.

"I love you, grandpa," she murmured softly.

"And I can not wait to meet you again, little one."

Zaina pulled away, reaching up and adjusting her mask. Bruce looked to Malik and held open his arms. Malik immediately gave in and ran over, hugging him. They exchanged no words, just hugged. And then Malik stepped back, and Waverider grabbed onto both of them.

"Goodbye, and thank you," Zaina said to the younger versions of their fathers.

"Bye! Be safe!" Jon said with a grin.

And then they were gone.

They appeared back in their time, right in front of their fathers at the batcave. Damian jolted slightly, and then raised an eyebrow.

"Waverider?"

"Hey, Damian. Jon."

"What's up?" Jon asked, setting down his cup of tea.

"Oh, not much, found your kids in 2019. Figured you might like them back."

"Indeed we would."

"Well, see you around."

Waverider disappeared again. Malik sighed and pulled off his mask, walking forwards and hugging his baba.

"It's been a weird day, and I'm ready for bed. Good night baba, good night pops. I love you," Malik said, heading towards the locker room.

"Love you too, kiddo," Jon called after him.

They looked at Zaina. "So what happened?"

"I'll explain over some hot cocoa and smores."

[maxineswritingcenter]

Class Reunion -Sam x fem!Reader

Gotta give my boy Sammy some love.

Summary: Sam and Dean hit up a case in a town they lived in for Sam's senior year of high school. While on a supply run, Sam runs into reader who he dated that year. Reader invites him to the class reunion. Sam is hesitant but the case leads to the reunion. SPARKS FLY BITCHES

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

It was the same old same old in the bunker. Nothing huge or apocalyptic was going on for the moment. But the cases seemed to be slim pickings. Sam was searching the world wide web for something, anything. Just as he was about to close the laptop and take a well deserved nap, a notification popped up. From the other side of the world map table, Dean looked up from his magazine and raised his eyebrows.

"I'm gonna assume that sound means a lead. Or something." He said and dropped the magazine on the table.

Sam narrowed his eyes as he read.

"What?" Dean asked as he came around to look over his brother's shoulder.

"So there have been reports of people being murdered in their homes. But there are no fingerprints, DNA or anything left at the scene. Just like the killer walked in and then vanished." Sam said as he scrolled through the news article.

"Sounds like it could be our type of case. Where's it at?" Dean asked.

Sam scrolled to the top of the screen, "Ojai, California." He chuckled at the name.

"Isn't that where you had your senior year and then dipped on me and dad?" Dean stood up straight. Sam rolled his eyes.

"I didn't dip. Dad told me if I left to not come back. So I didn't." He looked at his brother and shook his head.

"You know he didn't mean that." Dean tried to excuse him. But Dean wasn't even sure if he 100% believed that himself.

"Yeah. Whatever." He scrolled some more on the local news for the town then stopped, "No way." He shook his head.

"What is it?" Dean asked, the topic of their father temporarily forgotten.

"The reunion is this week. It's all over the town's local news. The murders are like a needle in a haystack." Sam said, trying to dig for more info on it.

"Well, pack your stuff Sammy, sounds like a case." Dean patted his brother on the back and made his way to his room.

-

Sam walked through the halls. It was his first day of senior year. Another new school. Another new town. He figured he should just keep to himself. Who knew how long they would be staying here. Hell, he came in halfway through the semester. Everyone already had their friend groups. Nothing really-

"Ah!" He ran smack into a smaller figure. The girl dropped every paper and they flew across the hall.

"I'm so sorry!" Sam said, scrambling to help her pick up the papers. He had a stack in his hand and reached to grab the last one when another hand touched his. He looked up and bonked heads with the stranger.

"Aw dammit." The girl said, rubbing her forehead, "I'm so sorry, I'm such a clutz." When they finally made eye contact, the mood changed.

"Hi." He said with a crooked smile.

"Hi..." The girl smiled. They both stood, he handed her his stack.

"I'm Sam. By the way." He said, holding onto the straps of his backpack.

"Sam." She repeated, "It's very nice to meet you. I'm (Y/N), student body president. Or at least that's the title. No one takes me seriously." She smiled, "You're new."

"How could you tell?" He chuckled.

"Small town. Everyone knows everyone." She shrugged, "And I think I would remember a smile like that."

"Hey!" Sam was brought out of his daydream by Dean smacking him on the shoulder.

"What?" He asked, blinking to clear his vision.

"You alright? You've been catatonic for like twenty minutes." Dean looked at him seriously, "You alright?" Sam always hated that look, like Dean was studying him.

"Yeah." He nodded, "Fine."

Dean shrugged, "Well we're here."

-

After a stop at the motel, Sam and Dean suited up in their FBI gear. They entered the sheriff's office with the badges at the ready. They approached a deputy and showed their badges.

"Agents Priestly and Forester, we're here about the homicides. Can we speak to the sheriff?" Dean said.

The deputy looked around nervously, clearing not accustomed to speaking with the FBI.

"Oh uh yeah, sure. This way." The deputy lead them back to the sheriff's office. The sheriff was a man around Sam's age, he was leaning on his desk, looking over a file.

The deputy knocked on the doorway, "Sheriff, FBI here about the murders." The deputy squeaked out the word. The sheriff looked up and closed the file, dismissing the deputy with the flick of this wrist.

"Come on in, fellas. I'm Sheriff Witicker." He looked from Dean to Sam as he shook their hands, and then stopped.

"Do I know you?" The sheriff narrowed his eyes.

Sam swallowed then smiled, "No. I, uh, just have one of those faces."

The sheriff nodded, "You must. You remind of this nerd I went to school with." He chuckled. Dean hummed, smiled at Sam and when he got the bitch face in return, he looked back at the Sheriff.

"So what do you have so far?" Dean asked, "Any suspects?"

"Not a clue. It's like the perp just walked in, scrubbed the place clean and walked out. All without disturbing a thing. We think that maybe there's some connection from the victims and the killer." He handed Sam the file to look over crime scene photos. The victim was someone Sam recognized.

"First victim was the coach at the high school. Throat tore clean open and partially devoured." Sheriff said, "Now Devin was a hardass but not enough to get murdered. We played football together. Same for the next Vic, Liza worked at the local library."

"Any witnesses?" Dean asked as he looked at the file in Sam's hands.

"Not at all." The sheriff sighed, "You guys gotta understand. We haven't had a murder in Ojai since 2001. And with the reunion coming up. Well, we're kind of on edge here."

"We understand." Sam said, "We'll look into this the best we can." Sam handed him a card, "Call us if anything happens." The sheriff took the card and nodded. The two left the office and went into the parking lot.

"Did you know that guy?" Dean asked as he looked over the car at his brother.

"Yeah. Made my life hell. Him and the rest of the football team." Sam nodded.

"And what about the other girl, Liza?" Dean asked.

Sam shrugged, "Name rings a bell but I didn't know her personally. I think she mostly stuck to herself."

"Like you, nerd?" Dean raised his eyebrows.

Sam pursed his lips, "Not funny."

"It's kinda funny." Dean got into the car, "Seems like a vampire to me. Like that nest in Hibbing."

Sam nodded, "Yeah. Let's just hope these are random and there isn't a pattern."

"Well, first things first, food. I'm starving." Dean started the car and they drove to the local supermarket.

-

Sam looked through the aisles with a shopping basket in his arm. He rather get his own food than Dean's assortment of junk and beer. As he turned a corner, a shopping cart rammed him in the waist. He doubled over with an oof, dropping his basket.

"I am so sorry! I wasnt-...Wait." he recognized that voice, "Sam?" She asked.

Sam held his stomach and looked up. It was (Y/N) not looking a day older than they did in highschool. She was wearing long black pants and a knit sweater. Her hair was short, it framed her face well.

"(Y/N).." he smiled. She squealed and came around, hugging him tightly. Sam chuckled and hugged her back. He had to lean down due to his height.

"Oh my God, it's so great to see you!" She said as she pulled away and looked up into his eyes, "What are you doing here?"

Sam had to think of something, anything that would make sense.

"I uh."

"You came for the reunion, didn't you?" She pointed at him.

He chuckled and showed his hands, "Guilty."

"I knew you would!" She blushed, "I mean uh... Maybe I was hoping." She shook her head, "Whatever. Um. Look at me, talking your ear off. You're probably busy." She rambled.

"I'm not." Sam couldn't even think really. Seeing her again was like a breath of fresh air.

"You're not? Oh uh... Would you uh... Maybe wanna grab lunch so we could... Catch up?"

"I'd really like that." Sam grinned.

"Hey Sammy, you want some-" Sam closed his eyes and cringed when Dean approached.

"Woah." Dean smirked and licked his lips, "I'm sorry about my brother here. Was he bothering you, ma'am?"

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow at him, "Oh please. I remember you, Dean. Come on. That's just sad."

Dean raised his eyebrows, "Wait a minute. You're (Y/N)." Dean connected the dots. He laughed, "Man, I still don't understand how this guy caught the eye of a fox like you."

She looked at Sam and rolled her eyes, "Well, Sam. I'll see you later. Say 2:30 at the place we used to go? Same booth?"

"Yeah, sounds great." Sam grinned.

"Mom, can we go now? I still need to do homework for my law and society class." Everyone's attention was brought to a tall, brown haired, hazel eyed boy that came up behind (Y/N).

"Of course, honey." (Y/N) reached up and brushed some hair from the boys face.

Sam's mind seemed to go blank. This kid, (Y/N)'s kid... They had a striking resemblance. Dean blinked at the tall child and then at Sam.

"Sam, Dean." (Y/N) said, clearing her throat, "This is my son, Jared." Jared gave the two men a half smile and little wave.

"Come on." Sam whispered as he tugged on her hand. He pulled (Y/N) in the middle of the gym floor. The colored lights painting them in a soft purple glow. Prom was slowly coming to an end. But Sam wanted to make this special. He would be leaving soon and he wanted to give her the best night she could.

"People are staring." She said between her teeth. She had her hands on his shoulders, the flowers from her corsage tickled at his neck. She was wearing a beautiful blue gown with sleeves that came off the shoulder. Her hair was up and curled.

"Let them. You look beautiful." Sam breathed out the words.

"Sam..." (Y/N) blushed and smiled, looking up into his eyes.

Soon the dance came to an end but their night continued on the roof of the motel where Sam and his family were staying. He had laid out a blanket and pillows from the room. They sat there and looked up at the stars, pointing out different constellations.

Sam looked at her and suddenly kissed her cheek. It was an impulse and quieted her talk of mythology and lore about the stars. She stiffened and turned bright red.

"Sam..." She whispered, leaning in...

"Sammy." Dean waved a hand in front of his brother's face. Sam blinked, still trying to focus on what just happened.

"Did that kid-" Sam began.

"Look like your carbon copy? Yeah, he did." As the both walked down they aisle. Sam caught a glimpse of (Y/N) and Jared loading up their car with groceries. Jared looked up and made eye contact. Sam nodded, Jared did the same and then got into the car.

"Well." Dean said, "This makes this a little complicated." They made their way to the Impala with their bags.

"A little?" Sam scoffed, "Dean, that could be my kid."

Dean shook his head, "Nah nah nah, this isn't like Ben where we liked the same things. No this kid looks like someone took your DNA and cloned you." He shivered, "Two of you is the last thing I need."

Sam ignored him and instead was brought to his phone ringing.

"Agent Forester." He said as he answered.

"Hey, Agent, this is Sheriff Witicker. We found more victims." Sam's face went slack.

"Right now?" He asked. Vampires usually don't go out during the day like this. Not alone.

"Yeah. It's a blood bath in here." He said, "I'll send you the address."

"Thanks." Sam ended the call and looked up at Dean.

"You go the the restaurant, I'll check out the crime scene." Dean said and opened his door.

"What about-" Sam started.

"Dude, the vampire is the least of our issues right now. You need a paternity test." Dean got into the car. Sam stood there for a moment before he sighed and made his way into town. Thinking of all the questions he wanted to ask.

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

NEW SERIES

Also I'm creative with names, did you know that?

Read part 2 here!

Taglist (shoot me an ask if you want to be added!):

@happy-little-winchester

@hobby27

@beanie-beebo

@vicmc624

@ria132love

@lilulo-12

@teenwaywardasgardian

@somebodyto-love

[remember-the-fanfics]

Pink Diamond x reader? Maybe Pink is a vampire or something? I think it'd be cute

Complicated (Vampire!Pink x Reader)

This is like a story with bullet points. I'm bored with no internet

I also got bored and added like a soul mate thing in the middle.

Like when you touch someone for the first time, you would know who they are and that they are your soulmate.

-

• You had meet her during one of her trips away from the others with Pearl.

• She had never seen a freed human before and Pearl was quick to try and attack you, you dodged and hit the ground

• "Pearl!" She said, getting Pearl to look at her and stopping the attack to you. "They clearly mean no harm, They are just a human."

• You took offense to her words

• "What do you mean just a human?" You asked, getting a surprise look from the two.

• "You can... speak?" Asked Pink.

• "Of course, all humans can."

• Her family had lied to her about your kind, saying that you couldn't do anything to your own accord.

• "I am sorry, human." Said Pink, as you got up and dusted imaginary dust off your shoulder.

• "That's fine, I'm sorry I gotten in the way of your walk, ma'am."

• Pearl was going to tell you of Pink's actual title but a pleading look from Pink had stopped her.

• You had struck a conversation with the two, even though it was mostly just Pink.

• "You should get going, you probably need to sleep." Said Pink before you realized it was almost 3 am.

• "Oh shot. Bye Pink! Bye Pearl!" You said before running off towards you house.

• "Wait! I didn't get your name!" Yelled Pink just as you disappeared out of sight. "I didn't know humans

• You told your family about the peculiar lady you had meet in the woods at night.

• They knew who she was but not thinking that you would ever see her again, your parents just forbid you to out at night.

• The two of you had lived or move on with life, never just forgetting the event.

• Pink had brought up that she had ran into a human that could speak and think on it's own.

• "And you didn't kill it?" Questioned Yellow. "It has a pointless existence Pink, you would have better it's life."

• "But they were very respectful even if they didn't know who I was."

• "How could they not know who you are? That's just more disrespectful, Pink." Told Blue.

• Pink sighed and stopped talking about you to them. Wondering if anymore humans could be just like you.

• You had started her wonder of humans.

• As the years go by you become a full adult and leave your families house.

• Pink had been given a territory to rule over by the others, telling her, she had to get rid of most humans and turn the rest into supernatural creatures.

• She had been make humans just leave her land by fear or warning, if they didn't, she other to deal with them by killing or turning. She had came to your house to do the same.

• You had been cooking when you heard a knock on the door and you went to open it to see her, the lady from the woods.

• "You!" You both said.

• "Why are you here human? I didn't think you lived on this land." She said before glancing around. "Let me enter please. I can not be seen in the open for much longer, my human."

• "Of course, you can enter." You said stepping to the side and she entered. "Oh, wait. My soup!" You yelled running towards you kitchen and Pink laughed at you actions.

• "Oh no, I eat other things than that." Said Pink when you said she could have some. "You need to leave you land, human." Said Pink, earning you choke on your food.

• "W-what? Why?" You asked, sitting your food down.

• "You are in grave danger if you stay, the humans are being changed or killed in these parts."

• "Change? You mean turn into one of supernatural creatures?" Tou asked and Pink shook her head yes.

• "I do not wish any of those on you." Said Pink, taking you hand before there was a flash of light as you both felt it.

• "This makes everything alot more complicated for you." Said Pink, remembering what the other told her what would happen if she ever meet her soulmate. "But atleast now I know your name, (Y/n)."

• "So you are a vampire, no wonder you asked me if you could enter." You said. "And you're name Pink, like the color."

• "Oh no. I was just being polite-. Hey!" Said Pink laughing before getting serious again. "My family, in terms, can now tell that I have a soulmate and can figure out if it's you."

• "Oof. That does make everything alot more difficult. They clearly aren't the nicest from what I know." You said.

• "You can come with me (Y/n)." Said Pink, giving you the easiest yet complicated way.

• "Yeah but I would have to be not human, Pink." You said before seeing the sad look in Pink. "Not that I wouldn't mind being with you forever Pink but I don't want to do that because of others."

• "O-Of course." Said Pink.

• "You've ever thought of running off?"

• "All the time." Pink said instantly. "They aren't the gentlest people (Y/n)."

• "Well, I heard from a old family friend, there's land where they don't control. We could go there. They wouldn't be able to find us."

• "They'll still know I'm alive and I'm not leaving my friends here with them." Said Pink before think. "What if we faked our deaths?"

• "We?"

• "Yes! They could smell it in your blood who you were suppose to be to me. It would be a romantic tragedy."

• "You need not to read anymore of those books but isn't faking our deaths to far?" You asked and Pink stood up and got closer, took you hand once more and look at you in the eyes.

• "It's the only way (Y/n). Trust me please." Said Pink, knowing what she was doing but it is your idea to start with.

• "Of course." You said, feeling weird. "I trust you, it's the only way."

• Pink said thanks and she had to leave to once more. She had promise she would be back soon with her friends and a plan.

• After a few days of waiting, she arrived with Pearl. She said she couldn't get the other one but she didn't regret it.

• "So you're going to blame a person that you've made up for our deaths? And how will they know that you died?" You questioned and Pearl pulled out a bag of ashes and a stake.

• "We will also require some of your blood. We want them to think someone took your body." Said Pearl, nervous about this as much as you.

• "I can help with this (Y/n)." Said Pink, showing her fangs. "It's mostly painless and I have a glass to put your blood in."

• "Of course." You said sighing, you had a feeling this was going to happen.

• Pink had quickly bite your wrist and caught the blood in the glass. She had held it close to her face before licking the rest off.

• "You actually taste better than I thought you would." Said Pink after she kissed your wound and wrapped it up.

• "That's extremely weird complement." Said Pearl, stating the obvious.

• "Oh! Sorry." Said Pink.

• And then you had to set a scene with others watch the event to give eye witnesses.

• That their beloved Pink and her new found soulmate suffered the same fate after meeting each other.

• The starts your escape to the land, you've actually seen. You had went to your family for the map and said goodbye to them.

• As you adventure went, Pink switched her name to Rose as the fake person who killed her. You kept yours as no one truly knew you. Pearl had stayed by both your sides as you meet and gain new friends, Amethyst and Garnet.

• Garnet was a vampire-witch and Amethyst is a werewolf, both running away from Pink's family for differentiating from the normal.

• After a few years after you all made a life and house together, Pink had turned you and it took you forever to actually want to try blood.

• Even if your new body was fading. Pink had to get some blood of a willing human and made you drink.

• "See it wasn't so bad?" Said Pink earning a glare. "Don't give me that look. You were going to kill yourself."

• "Fine, it wasn't that bad." You mumbled, blood didn't taste like copper anymore. Better than expected but you couldn't put a finger on what it actually tasted like.

-

10/31/19

Ahaha, this would be posted on Halloween if the internet worked but I hoped you enjoyed.

[im-whatchamccallit]

Their Girlfriend isn’t Close to Her Family Anymore// Got7

Request: heyyy could I plz request a got7 scenario where their girlfriend isn’t close to their family anymore and he supports her? Thanks you 🙏🏻🙏🏻💙💙

Pair: Got7 x Reader

Genre: Angsty, slight fluff

Warnings: Oof. Mentions of alcoholism, abuse, abandonment, and death. Nothing too crazy though. Also, it’s long. As fuck.

Words: 4.46k

(A/N: First off, yay! I’m back! Second, I wasn’t sure if anon wanted the whole group or one member so I just did them all so it’s like a scenario/reaction kinda thing.)

Mark

The day was fairly silent as you and Mark continued to clean around your apartment. Well, you were cleaning as Mark sat on your sofa watching television, when, suddenly, your phone began to ring from the coffee table in front of him. You trusted one another enough to go through each other’s phones and even answer phone calls. So, when he saw the words ‘Mother’ appear, he immediately answered, partially from his instincts but mainly because this would be the first time he’s met her, even if it wasn’t in person.

“Hello? (Y/n)?” The woman’s voice was shocked yet relieved, causing him to smile at the way she said your name in a loving way.

“I’m Mark, her boyfriend.”

“B-boyfriend?” Her pained voice confused him. She was your mother, surely you told her about him, right?

“Mark! Who is it?” You asked, not taking your eyes off the pan you were scrubbing profusely as he approached you, placing the phone to your ear with a small, “it’s your mom”.

In that moment, you felt sick to your stomach, your glove covered hands dropping the scouring pad as you turned and pressed the end call button bitterly, hanging up without another word before returning to your previous chore.

Mark had never seen you like this. Your cheeks puffed out and lips pursed together angrily as you took your frustrations out on the poor pan that was overly clean, almost being restored to its original silver color.

“Why did you hang up on her?” He finally asked, watching you carefully as you rinsed the cooking sheet and place it onto the nearby drying rack.

“My mother and I aren’t close.” You said bluntly, hoping that’d be the end of the discussion as you tossed the gloves onto the side of the sink, trying to walk by without making eye contact with Mark.

“Maybe you would be if you actually talked with her.”

You froze, a bit hurt and angry at how true his words were. But how can you explain that you could never rebuild a relationship with the woman that left you to raise yourself since you were 5? That the only times you ever saw her, she was drunk and angry or passed out from a bender? That even once she got her life together, you could never see her as anything other than an alcoholic mess?

“Not everyone can be best friends with their parents, Mark. Some of us don’t get the privilege to say we even have parents. And if I’ve been doing just fine for the past twenty years without her, why do I suddenly have to be the bigger person just because she feels guilty for the shit she caused?”

You hadn’t realized your eyes were glossed over, burning as you took in a shaky breath to keep yourself together. Mark felt bad for not knowing these things about you, assuming it was just the distance keeping you from visiting home, having you insist on being with him and his family every holiday or just staying at your apartment alone rather than being with her. The worse part being that, whether you saw her again or continued to ignore her, it’d hurt you.

You don’t flinch at the sudden feeling of arms around you, your head instantly pressing into the side of Mark’s neck as he held onto you.

“I’m sorry, (Y/nickname). But I think you should talk to her, just for some closure. Whether you see her again or not is your choice and I promise I won’t bother you about it anymore.”

Jaebum

Jaebum held onto your hand and you sniffled loudly, choking back tears as you stood over her coffin. The woman before you was your grandmother, yet she raised you since the day you were born, never once treating you any differently just because she technically wasn’t your mother. But she was the only mother you’ve ever known. Your father had passed not long after your first meeting, and the day you met your real mother, you made sure it was your last. She didn’t even deserve the title of a parent.

Even with all the problems you faced, all the times you cried over the years of pain and conflict you felt from your family’s dysfunction, Jaebum stood by you and listened, being understanding and compassionate when you needed him most.

He sighed sadly and leaned forward to place a small kiss to the frail, lifeless body, pulling back just enough to see her greyish features.

“Thank you for raising an amazing daughter.” He spoke lowly before standing to level with you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to guide you to your seats when, suddenly, a loud scream was heard, your heads turning to the entrance in shock.

“We told you, you aren’t allowed here!”

“I’m here to see my fucking mother. Get off of me!” You could feel your grimace grow as you watched (Y/Mother/N) push through the line of people coming to view your grandmother’s body, her feet stopping her just a few steps away from the casket but, intentionally, right in front of you.

“(Y/n),” She breathed, opening her arms to embrace you but you just took a step back.

You weren’t sure how to react. Part of you wanted to turn away and ignore her, but part of you wanted to punch her and whoever told her the location of the funeral. It wasn’t that she didn’t have the right to see her mother one last time, it was the fact this was the first time in years she had thought to do so.

“You have five seconds to leave or I swear I’m calling the cops.” You growled, Jaebum lacing your fingers together to remind you that he was still there and that her presence shouldn’t and won’t affect you.

“I just wanted to see her. And I wanted to make sure you were alrigh-“ You flinched at the way she reached out to touch your hair, your hand instinctively reaching up to slap it away.

“I’m alright. I have been ever since you abandoned me.”

“I didn’t abandon you. I had to figure myself out and get my life together. I was always going to come back for you, (Y/nickname), and I did.”

“I wish you never came back.” You admitted, your face stoic as you watched hurt flash over her features.

“And your five seconds are up. Leave.” Without another word, you turned and let Jaebum silently drag you to your seats, his eyes staring at you with concern as everyone tried to return to their mourning, despite the interruption.

A stray tear rolled down your cheek, your hand practically squeezing Jaebum’s as you stared ahead. He couldn’t tell if it was still your grandmother’s death or your mother’s arrival upsetting you, but he knew it wasn’t the right time to bother you on it. Instead, he brought your hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss to it before relaxing at the small sigh you released, your head resting onto his shoulder as you continued to mourn the loss of both your mothers.

Jackson

“I’m nervous.” You giggled as Jackson continued to lead you through his apartment, his hands covering your eyes as you weaved about aimlessly.

“Okay, close your eyes for me.” You nodded at his instructions, your eyes clenched shut as he stepped away. You listened closely to the shuffling and footsteps, Jackson’s warmth at your side once more as he eagerly stared at you.

“Okay. Open them now.” You anxiously opened them, excited to see what the random surprise was considering it was neither of your birthdays nor your anniversary.

But, as soon as your eyes opened, your smile fell. You watched the computer screen as your parents stared at you silently with tear-filled eyes, unsure of if they should speak first or you.

This wasn’t the first time Jackson’s did something like this. He invited you on tour with him and, when you landed in your hometown, he made sure you stopped by your parent’s home.

He knew you never forgave your parents for disowning you when you ran away from home at 16 to study abroad against their wishes, and, once you realized they had made up lies to other family members to save their own reputation, it solidified your hatred. He understood your anger. But to cut off your family completely? He thought that was impossible. Family meant everything to him and, considering how your parents were willing to mend things, he was hoping you felt the same.

But, from the way you angrily stomped to the laptop, slamming it shut before glaring at him with the deepest scowl he’s ever seen, he knew your feelings haven’t changed.

“You keep doing this shit and I’m sick of it. I told you I don’t want to talk to them and you keep doing this crap, every single time! Are you stupid? Is that why you’re doing this? Or do you just hate me that much that you want to hurt my feelings?!”

Sure, your words hurt. You had never exploded at Jackson like this, it was actually shocking to him, but you need this. Years of built up anger finally flowing forth as you screamed at him, your voice cracking every so often as anger turned to sadness, sadness turned to defeat, defeat turned to hurt, and the cycle restarted from there.

He waited until you finished, watching you sniffle loudly as your sleeve cladded arm swiped over your tear-stained eyes.

“So, you never want to speak to your parents again? You never considered fixing your relationship and, if it didn’t work, you could at least say you actually tried?” Silence.

You stared at one another trying to find some response but neither of you said a word, your eyes leaving his face as you thought the question over, uncertain of if this is how you’d want things to be forever, even though you were doing fine on your own all these years.

“You don’t have to tell me. But your parents gave me their phone numbers, emails, and new address. If you ever want to fix things, tell me, and I’ll be by your side the entire time. If not, I get it, and I’ll support you 100%.”

Jinyoung

You stared at the annoyed male through your laptop’s screen, his eyes focusing on anything but you. This was your third time this week calling him and, each time, he seemed more distant than before. You had planned to call him whenever Jinyoung wasn’t home, giving you time to repair your damaged family before you decided you wanted to introduce him to them, but your father, with his cold gaze stuck on his television that produced the only sound between you two, couldn’t care less about that.

To add insult to injury, Jinyoung was home early, moving quietly in case you were sleeping in for the day. He could hear light talking, most of the words muffled from the distance, but it was clearly in an exhausted tone. Your exhausted tone. Jinyoung was never one to eavesdrop but you also weren’t the type to open up to him about everything that bothered you. Maybe you were talking with a friend? Maybe your conversation would help him understand why you were so upset the past few days.

When Jinyoung was close enough to hear you clearly, he stopped, his eyes peeking through the slit of your bedroom door where you sat in front of your desk, a man he’s never met staring at you grudgingly.

“Can you hurry up and talk? I have somewhere to be soon.” He spoke, his frame shifting as you cleared your throat, finally having a chance to have a real conversation with him for the first time in years.

“I just think it’s time we talked about everything. I don’t want one of us to die, knowing that our relationship could have been better or that we let it stay as bad as it is.”

“You’re the one that let it get bad, (Y/n).”

“That’s not true!” You protested against his words, pausing for a moment to collect yourself before continuing.

“You’re my father, and it kills me every time I try to talk to you because you never want to speak to me, especially when I’m the only one trying to fix our relationship.”

“You only called me once your mother ran off to marry someone else and you had no one to raise you. You weren’t worried about our relationship when you said you’d rather live with her after the divorce-“

“I was 8. An 8-year-old girl needs her mother, I always tell you that.”

“They also need their fathers but you obviously didn’t need me, right?”

You swallowed back a sob as you were trying to find the words to explain yourself, but you couldn’t. He was just as hurt as you, maybe worse. From the day you were born, even now, he was excited to have you in his life, but to think you didn’t want or need him in yours was too much to bear.

“I have to go.” He said, breaking the tense silence, your body perking up as you finally noticed your lack of words.

“Dad? Dad!“ Your voice cracked slightly as you tried to continue the conversation, but your screen returned to its regular background, your face contorting in a mixture of pain, anger, and sadness as you finally broke down.

Jinyoung has seen you cry only a handful of times, but he’s never seen you cry over something so deep and personal. He felt awkward. How was he supposed to console the girl sobbing loudly at her desk, head buried in her folded arms as she quietly said “I’m sorry” to someone who was no longer listening?

You didn’t hear the bedroom door open but jumped at the feeling of a warm hand on your back, your red eyes meeting Jinyoung’s sad ones as you quickly stood and wiped away over a decade’s worth of tears.

“When did you get home?” You asked quietly, already knowing the answer by the way he silently wrapped his arms around you.

Jinyoung was never one to pry into your personal problems, especially when he felt it was too soon to address, but he knew being there for you was enough until you were ready. And you couldn’t help but tear up once more at the fact, holding onto him for dear life as if he were your lifeline.

Youngjae

“My parents should sit at a table right next to us.”

“Obviously.” You laughed as you watched the wedding planner place the small yellow figurines with name tags onto their spots on the large layout of the wedding hall you rented.

You and Youngjae were only two weeks away from your wedding and things were seemingly falling into place. Everything was perfect. Your wedding dress was even finished on time, now waiting patiently in the bridal shop until it was time to head out into Mokpo. Nothing could ruin this for you.

“Is this a free space?” Youngjae asked, pointing to an unoccupied table right next to the one you two would sit at, the one your family should be at.

“Actually,” Your eyes widened as you watched the wedding planner sort through her binder, checking between the pages and the layout before searching her bag for extra figurines.

“This table should be reserved for your parents and sister, (Y/n).” Both pairs of eyes fell on you and you could feel yourself shrink into the sofa you sat on, your body strangely warm with embarrassment as you slowly unclasped your hands from your lap, revealing the three yellow figures you took while they were busy talking, hoping they’d ignore the small displacement.

For years, you had problems with your sister. She was always the favorite, the one your parents ran to first to help while you struggled in the background. You don’t even think she’s lifted a finger once in her life. It wasn’t until she ruined your high school graduation party that you finally said something, pointing out how your parents allowed her to act so carelessly and all they could do was clean up her mess as if they caused it. She was an adult-child. But, even at that moment, with years of anger coming out, your parents blamed you for feeling that way. You should have been “just like her” and maybe you would’ve been treated better.

Even after they humiliated you, you forgave them, taking some time away by studying in Seoul, making a home and career there for yourself while still trying to keep your relationship with them present. You even invited them to your wedding. So, to have them suddenly call and say your sister was getting married that same day, her waiting until you announced the official date to state the same to your friends and family, was the ultimate slap to the face.

“Are they not coming?” Youngjae finally spoke up, your unknowingly tear-filled eyes finding his as you shook your head sadly, a tense silence taking over.

“How about I come back tomorrow and we can finish this up?”

“Yes, please.” You ignored the two as Youngjae helped pack away her materials, guiding her to the door with a promise that you’d have everything sorted out for her by tomorrow evening before shutting the door, leaving you in a stilted silence.

Youngjae was always considerate of your family problems, even encouraging you to talk to them and invite them to your wedding, but the way you sat silently, mentally beating yourself up for thinking they’d ever change to finally show you some kind of affection, made his heartbreak.

He took his seat next to you, trying to find the words to say to make things better but you interrupted him with a small chuckle, your head shaking in shame at your own stupidity.

“My own parents don’t care enough to come to my wedding. It’s like I don’t even have a family at this point.”

“You have my mother and father, and my brother and sister too.”

“That’s your family, YJ.” You sighed deeply, rolling your eyes in an attempt to hold back any tears you felt may fall.

The warmth of Youngjae’s hands enclosed yours as he held them gently, causing you to turn and give him your full attention, his expression soft yet serious.

“I knew how your family was and I made you invite them anyways and I’m sorry. But, you don’t need them. In two weeks, my family will officially become your family, I’ll be the greatest husband you could ever imagine, and Coco will be our baby.”

You couldn’t help but laugh slightly, amused at the thought that Mark would even consider letting you have Coco full time, but mostly pleased by the idea of actually having loving parents and siblings, whether you were related or not. Youngjae probably thought it was a small gesture but it was big enough for you. And he’d do it a million times again just see you smile.

BamBam

BamBam knew you had issues with your mother’s side of the family, he just didn’t think it was this deep. He sat against his bed, two of his cats pacing around him in circles before laying down by his feet, his eyes too focused on you marching throughout the room with your phone pressed to your ear, a hand running through your hair in frustration as the elderly woman on the line continued to plead.

“(Y/n), it’s just for this month. Your mother fell behind on her rent again and-“

“And what, grandma? She’s asking me to send her another $800 for the third month in a row, and you find nothing suspicious? How did she fall behind anyways? Let me guess, drinking her life away again? Drugs? Gambling? Or did she use it to bail her shitty boyfriend out of jail again.” You snapped, annoyed that this is the same phone call you receive on the same day each month.

Your grandmother was a sweet woman, she just had a bad habit of coddling your mother, treating her as if she needs 24/7 love and care when, really, she needed to grow up. You tried to be considerate and understanding of your mother at first but after a while, you began to notice her patterns, the way she lied and manipulated people to get what she wanted, the way she played victim so she never had to own up to her troubles. You were sick of it.

“She’s going through a rough time, (Y/n), please. She lost her job and-“

“And I don’t care. If your “rough time” last over twenty years, it’s no longer the situation that’s the problem, it’s you. And you’re sitting here enabling her. Grow a spine and kick her out.”

“Don’t talk to me that way.” Your grandmother’s tone changed from pleading to serious but it didn’t waiver your anger, only increasing it.

“Well, somebody has to. Just because you choose to let your daughter live with you on the condition that she pays rent doesn’t mean you’re doing something right, especially when you end up begging me to pick up the slack for her just so you can have her around. She’s your problem, so you deal with her.”

You didn’t bother listening anymore as you hung up, a mixture of a growl and groan escaping your lips as you dragged yourself over to the bed you shared with the now confused boy. BamBam had so many questions yet he couldn’t tell if he had the right to ask. You curled into his side without another word, not mentioning the intense phone call from just a second ago or details of the situation like you gave the last time, just your arms wrapped around his torso and your head on his chest.

“What happened?” He asked nervously, feeling your head shake against his chest to signal that you didn’t want to talk about it.

BamBam hesitantly wrapped his arms around you, feeling you sink further into him as you tried to fall asleep.

He always fantasized in his head how he could help you in situations like this, but he was still so confused. How did things get this way and why? And why were you so used to it by now? He had questions and was slightly desperate for answers, just to make his daydreams of being the protective boyfriend he wants to be come true. But he was already doing enough. He was your safe place in your crumbling world. He may feel like he’s done nothing to help but he was the best help you could ever have.

Yugyeom

Yugyeom watched as you slowly kneeled in front of your bed, placing the folded stack of jeans into your suitcase that sat by his feet on the large mattress, your eyes focused on nothing in particular as you mulled over your decision to head home to see your mother.

Your mother was your biggest bully since the day you were born, belittling and tormenting you at any given chance, physically and mentally. By the time you moved out, you were positive you never wanted to see her again. That was, before your brother called you to let you know she was sick, updating you daily on how her condition went from bad to worse, the doctor’s assuming she had but a few weeks left to live. Despite her abuse towards you, you didn’t want her to die hating you, nor did you want her to die without at least giving you a reason for why she did. But what if she didn’t even want you there? Should you at least honor that unconfirmed wish and stay home?

You were torn up inside about all of this, and Yugyeom could see it. He knew of your troubles and tried to remain neutral about it, not wanting his feelings to influence yours. He was sad that you never really had any support growing up, silently detesting both your parents for making you suffer on your own for years and driving you away when you needed them most, but he felt worse watching you cling to someone who never bothered to check on you since you were 16. He was always silent on the situation, trusting you knew best, but after watching you pack and unpack for the past 3 days, fighting yourself on whether what you were doing was right or wrong, he needed to say something.

“Are you really going?” He asked calmly, causing you to come back to reality to see he was on there with you, resting on one of his elbows while staring down at you expectantly yet patiently.

You looked away with a sigh, shrugging before looking back at him with guilty eyes. You knew how he felt about your family, whether he told you or not, but you wanted one last chance at a mother-daughter relationship, hopefully one that wasn’t toxic and left you emotionally scarred.

Yugyeom sighed before pushing himself up, crossing his legs and scooting forward so that he was beside your suitcase.

“I’m not going to be mad if you go but I don’t want you to get hurt either.” Your lips formed a deep pout as you pressed you forehead onto his jean covered knee.

“I don’t know what to do, Yug.” You sounded so pitiful and stressed, his hand unconsciously finding your hair to comfort you.

One thing Yugyeom learned during your two years together was that you hated overthinking your problems, even major ones like transferring from Ulsan to Seoul for work, his method of helping being to distract you until one of you figured out a plan that could potentially solve it. Maybe, for something as large as this, something he’s never dealt with before, he could do the same.

“How about we go to the dog café you always talk about so you can clear your mind? Then, if it’s not too late, we’ll call your brother, make sure he’s still with your mom, and ask if she wants to see you. If she says yes, we can pack and head out to see her tomorrow morning. Okay?”

You were silent for a moment, causing his heart to stop at the possibility that it wouldn’t work this time, especially when you turned to look at him, your pout still prominent as well as the exhausted look in your eyes.

“Thank you.” You said weakly, causing him to exhale in relief, leaning his head against yours in solace.