#or let him take a job working for the leagues as a special third party who they send in to handle the big stuff

[thejourneystartstoday]

If I say this enough it will speak it into existence: being a Pokémon master does not have to mean being the strongest battler. I’m sure being a strong battler comes with the territory but there are still regions Ash hasn’t been to and Pokémon he hasn’t met. He’s going to keep traveling until he’s seen them all.

[katytheinspiredworkaholic]

WIP Wednesday

Title: Extraordinary

Pairings: HotchReid (more to come)

Summary: League of Extraordinary Gentleman/Vampire AU;

Within the FBI there is a specialized team full of an elite selection of people. Unique individuals with very particular skill sets. And their job is to take the unusual cases: the ones that need to not only be solved, but are undetermined if the unsub is human, or something else entirely.

In a world filled with Vampires, non-human creatures, and subspecies unknown, there is only enough information to have them vaguely regulated. Rules that are so easily, and violently broken, all while hidden in plain sight among the unsuspecting public. Unrivaled for eons.

That’s where the BAU comes in.

Official Posting Date: October 2021

Links: (Masterpost) (Snippet 01) (Snippet 02) (Snippet 03) (Snippet 04)

(TW/CW: dead body/crime scene, blood and bite wounds talked about in detail, hypnosis/compelling someone to do something against their will, overall discussion of murder (basically what we see in every episode of the show))

(the story so far/what you need to know for this clip at least: Absolutely nothing you don’t already know, this is legit from the first chapter. Hotch is a Vampire (although the LEOs don’t really know that), Rossi is a priest, Morgan is so empathetically telepathic he can touch the auras in the air, and Reid is Reid. I know I’ve been giving you the juicy HotchReid stuff but here have some case stuff too, to see what you’re in for with the plot and everything. This is FIRST DRAFT so it’s terribly unpolished, first part is generalized POV (hence the more professional titles) and the second is within the team dynamics so they get more familiar. idk my first drafts are messy and indecisive, enjoy anyway. 💕)

–

They approach the body and Rainer shoos away his pestering, hovering officers and --- winces once again at the sight of the bloodied woman. “This is the third body in two days; a jogger found her about 6 am. Coroner says she thinks she’s been dead for about 6 hours; killed in the middle of the night, just like the others.” 

“Closer to five hours, I think,” Dr. Reid says, crouching down to look closer. All long legs and his gun looking too big on his belt next to his FBI badge. “Could still be within the Witching Hour, though.”

“Do you have accurate time of death estimates for the other two bodies?” Agent Morgan adds on, already picking up the train of thought Dr. Reid has started on. The detective pulls out an old-school flip notebook book and looks through it before answering.

“3:15am the first night, 9:30pm last night and now this.”

“Well that rules out hex, sacrifice, and spell gone wrong,” he concludes, as the other agents surround the body to inspect it from all angles. “So what are we thinking?”

“It’s a frenzied bite,” Agent Hotchner points out, looking from where he stands and not having to get as close as Dr. Reid to inspect it accurately. His eyesight is better than any microscope. “Shows multiple entries, it couldn’t get a good enough hold to rip her throat. Or she struggled, so it wasn’t strong enough to keep her pinned down.”

“The boys think it’s a Vamp,” Detective Rainer points out. “Maybe a baby one, still learning the ropes?”

“Vampire changes are regulated and no sire would allow whoever they turned to do this,” Agent Hotchner says, a colder flint to his voice that matches the way his dark stare cuts up to the detective. “No one has been turned in the United States in the past twelve years.”

“It’s not a Vampire bite,” Dr. Reid agrees, putting on latex gloves to further inspect the body and test the bite radius. “And it’s not a werewolf bite, either.”

“...Werewolf?” the detective says with a winded sound, eyes wide and looking to the three agents who didn’t even blink at the word. “There’s -- there’s such thing as werewolves?” 

“Detective, I think you should let my team and I work, we will come to you with our findings and then help you track down your killer.” Agent Hotchner doesn’t leave room for argument, his dark brown eyes looking pitch black in the early morning light, and Detective Rainer… suddenly feels the overwhelming urge to walk away. Like he can’t breathe if he doesn’t comply; he fights it, tries to fight it, and feels his will crumble beneath him like a sand bank giving way under his feet. He turns, even that small gesture lessening the pressure crushing his chest, and takes a step away from the group, air swept into his lungs like a riptide. He makes a hasty retreat after that, winded as if he just ran up a flight of stairs and the sweet taste of oxygen being his only reprieve. He doesn’t know what happened, and wouldn’t upon further inspection until much, much later.

-

“That wasn’t very nice, Hotch,” Rossi points out with a look of glib reprimand towards their team leader. “I thought compelling feeble minded beat cops was for those who have no skills to avoid it.”

“My patience was running thin, and we need to move faster on this case before our unsub kills again. He’s escalating.” That much is obvious, by the timeline alone, but Father Rossi still gives him a side-ways glance that says he finds far too much amusement in the undead’s antics. “Reid, are you sure it’s not a werewolf bite? It would explain the lack of control and precision.”

“I’m sure,” Reid says with finality, and no one makes a mention on why. He had done more research than any human possibly could in the past few months on werewolf transformation and the after effects of attacks. With what happened to one of their former agents mere months ago, no one doubted his newly learned expertise. “It’s also not a shifter, or a ghoul. We can rule out ghost and poltergeist as well, no residue or temperature shifts.” 

“Demon possession?” Morgan asks, looking to Rossi just as he does his customary Sign of the Cross at the mere mention. Can’t help the gesture, after his own past experiences. Giving anything the power of a name, even arbitrary, can be a dangerous thing. 

“We can’t rule it out,” he admits. “The teeth marks are human, someone possessed would still have a hard time biting that deep and doing that much damage. Cannibalism is only reserved for the amusements of level three demons, however they aren’t usually powerful enough to reach the mortal plane or take possession of someone’s body. They would need help.” 

“You really think someone would weaponize a demon like that?” 

“We’ve seen people do worse things, as has history, but I’d like to hope it wouldn’t happen in my lifetime.” 

“We need more information,” Hotch concludes, arms crossed and watching as Reid stands up and removes the blood stained gloves. “Morgan,” his gaze cuts to the tall man in his deep blue suit. “Can you walk the scene, tell us what you see?”

“Not with this many people around,” Morgan shakes his head, eyes glancing to every person within a twenty foot radius. “Too many readings, the aura field here looks like an oil spill. The only thing I can latch onto is…” his gaze is back on the ground, hovering over the dead woman, who would have no aura to speak of at all and therefore a blank canvas. He replaces Reid’s space, crouching down to touch the air over the bite wound. Fingers spread wide, less than a foot from her but not touching, palm suddenly curving as if over an invisible shoulder, the place where someone had once been not so long ago. It could have been the coroner, or the crime scene photographer, but with it being so close to the body -- chances were it was the unsub.

“They were crouched down, half on the ground, no… human thoughts that I can hear,” he says, closing his eyes and letting his hand glide through the air a little more, following the curve of someone’s spine and up their neck, resting where the head would be. “They have a fever burning them up, hot as a furnace--” he keeps his hand there too long, suddenly jerks it back as if it had physically burned him, then stands up again. Shaking off the aura reading still sticking to his fingers and the forefront of his mind. “Sound like anything you’ve heard of, pretty boy?” 

Reid shakes his head, sharing a glance with Father Rossi. “We might have to go through some of your demonology books.” The older man grins wide.

“You just want to get your hands on them, at this rate you’ll have them memorized by next week.” 

“Dave --” Hotch says slow, a reprimand of his own.

“Fine, fine, I’ll have Garcia send us some scans. If the Vatican knew I was putting a book like that in his hands they’d strip me of all my titles.”

“Didn’t they already do that?” Morgan teases with a grin.

“Ex-communicated. I got to keep the dog collar, the honorifics, bless the holy water, you know -- the party tricks.” 

–

((if you want to be apart of the taglist just hit me up via comment, reblog tag, DMs or asks 💕))

[boymeetsweevil]

binary stars

Grouping: Reader x Bff!Hyuck

Word Count: ~8.4k

Warnings/Themes: friends to lovers, insecurity, pining, jealous hyuck, like a teaspoon of suggestiveness, yuta is here because i love him

Prompt: “bff!hyuck + friends to lovers. college au and slightly nsfw or however nsfw u wanna make it”

A/N: This commissioned fic is part of the Changes with Luv project, hosted by FicsWithLuv. Here you can find more information about the project, cause, places to donate, and ways to commission a piece or offer your services if you are a content creator. Thank you!

The food court is crowded when you get there. It’s a bit later than ideal after morning classes followed by a study session in the library.

“What are you gonna get,” Donghyuck asks while slinging an arm around your shoulder.

While squinting up at the menu up ahead, he whispers into your ear. Just to make sure his question doesn’t get lost in the chatter around you. You still get goosebumps, though.

“All I know is that it can’t be a bagel. I’m starting to get sick of those.” You rub your arm and he mistakes it for you being cold.

Donghyuck pulls you closer while mumbling half to himself and half to you about what he’ll get.

“I heard they have this new sandwich thing. Johnny told me it has hash browns as the bread.” He peers down at you. “You could try that.”

“Did he say if it was filling or not?”

“No, but if it’s too big for you to eat, we can share it. Or you can use some of my tupperware when we get home,” he says.

When he says ‘home’, he really just means his dorm. There’s a section in the communal first floor kitchen that belongs to him, and it houses all the things his mom sent him with for survival years ago.

Home. As in ‘where you have a place too’. It’s a small difference from your classmates and other friends who say ‘the dorm’ or ‘my place’. But it’s also one of the many ways in which Donghyuck invites you in and makes you feel special. It’s one of the reasons you fell for your best friend.

“Why don’t you just get it?” You try to wriggle out of his grasp but he doesn’t notice and tightens up as the line moves up a bit. “It sounds like you’re the one who wants it, not me.”

“I would...but I think it’s one of the ‘deluxe’ sandwiches.” He pivots so he can envelope you fully from behind, puppy dog eyes out and at the ready. “And I’m in the red again this week.”

“Okay, why are you always in the red? What are you spending your money on?”

You miss the way his eyes drift down instinctively to the empty frappe cup you hold.

“I don’t know. The money just escapes me.”

“It’s a good thing you’re not an econ major, then.”

“Hey!”

He squeezes you tightly from behind and starts to shake you around like a ragdoll. A couple people in line turn at the sudden commotion while you scrabble at the tight vice his arms make around you.

Moments like these are the ones where, if you step back, you could convince yourself that Donghyuck was your boyfriend instead of just your best friend. But you know better than to think that you and he are in the same league. Even if you were, you’d probably be at the back of the line because he’s almost too easy to love.

Donghyuck is the whole package. When he’s not lighting up a room with his charisma and humor, he’s stealing everyone’s attention with his handsome face. It doesn’t help that he’s naturally flirty and generous with touch. Sometimes you think that maybe there’s some side of him that only you get to see, but other times—

“Hyuck!”

You and Donghyuck turn at the same time to see Mila, one of Donghyuck’s department-mates running towards your spot in the slow moving line. The moment stops being private and suddenly there’s a sort of shame bubbling up inside of you. Maybe it’s because you know that people think you’re an odd pair, that Donghyuck is misguided and charitable for hanging out with you. He’s never mentioned it, and the one time you did he blew up at you about it. But still, there’s something about third party appraisal that makes you feel like you’re in someone else’s spot. For all you know it could be Mila’s spot. She’s bright too. Not as bright as Donghyuck, but brighter than you. Since she started coming around Donghyuck, you’ve accepted this. The fact that she now uses your nickname for him makes you feel a whole new type of loss, though.

“Hey,” you both greet her.

She lays a hand on his forearm, squeezing lightly. “Hey, how are you? I’ve been looking for you.”

“Oh, what for?”

“You owe me a movie, silly.”

“Like a physical movie?”

You snort at his obliviousness and Mila responds with a quick glance at the way he drapes himself over you.

“No! Remember when you gave me those movie recommendations?”

“Yeah. To watch on your own time. You don’t have to watch them with me just because I mentioned them.”

“But where’s the fun in that?”

She pouts, grabs his free arm and tugs just hard enough to jostle him. With his arms wrapped around you, you stumble forward when he does.

“Oh, sorry.” Her hands come out like they’re going to steady you, but they get nowhere close enough to actually do the job. “Didn’t see you there.”

“She said ‘hi’,” Donghyuck chimes in before you can make up some excuse for why it’s okay that you almost fell on your face.

“I must have just missed you then,” she gazes down at you, “You’re so quiet.”

“Just watching the line,” you say.

The line moves forward and Mila moves with you. Clearly she’s not planning on leaving. She’s waiting you out and it’s working. You feel awkward enough that you need to get out, even if it means you cede something to Mila.

“Hyuck,” You turn and lay your hand on the back of his neck. It looks like a comfortable hand on the shoulder that went too far north, but that trajectory was calculated. He shivers like you know he will because he always does. It’s been a sensitive spot since you met him.

“Huh?” His voice is already sounding far away.

“I’m gonna go wait at a table. You can order for me.”

You make a point to pat at the arms he has wrapped around your middle still. The motion drags Mila’s eyes to the point of contact and she smirks a little. Donghyuck might only see you as a friend, but Mila mistakenly sees you as an obstacle. It’s petty, but you kind of want to make her think she has to work a little hard to get to him. Even if you don’t stand a chance.

In the end, the flash in Mila’s eyes is worth having to go find a place to sit during the lunch rush. You replay the moment over in your head, barely watching where you’re going in the crowded food court until you run into someone. If it weren’t for the quick pair of hands grabbing your upper arms at the last second, you might have taken a rather nasty fall.

“I’m sorry, that was my fault.”

“We’ve gotta stop meeting like this.”

The hands disappear once you’re stable while the voice lingers. It’s familiar but you don’t know why. When you take too long to put a name to a face, the person chuckles at you. At the very least, this mystery person is uniquely handsome with pretty teeth.

“You don’t remember me?”

“Can I have a hint?”

“What if you pretend to throw up on my shirt? Then would you remember?”

“Oh god,” you cover your face with your hands. Suddenly you recall the party last week where the pizza didn’t agree with you. “Yuta,” you groan.

“Hmm. My name sounds nice when you say it like that.”

You feel your face get hot as you peek at him from between your fingers. Last week you’d fallen face first into his lap while he was innocently sitting on a sofa. You’d proceeded to throw up onto his chest after he asked you for your name.

“Just kill me. It’d be less painful than this.”

“I don’t know. I think me still trying to hit on you afterward just for your boyfriend to send me murder eyes and whisk you away was way more painful than a little bit of vomit.”

“My boyfriend?”

“That little Hyucko guy, right?”

Yuta points behind you, and you turn to find him gesturing at Donghyuck. He’s still with Mila, but he’s clearly watching you talk with Yuta instead of engaging in small talk in line. You wave him off, hoping he’s not thinking you’re in danger.

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Sucks for him, then.”

Furrowing your brows, you return your gaze back to Yuta.

“But good for me,” he continues, “I don’t have to feel bad for asking you for your number now.”

“M-my number?”

“Is there another way to get to know the girl who threw up on me?”

“Uh, sure, why not?”

Yuta hands you his phone with a smile that looks so triumphant, you have to turn away slightly. His gaze on you is a bit too open, too pleased. You’re definitely not used to this type of attention, but you can’t say you’re mad at him for it. After typing in your number and name, he takes the phone back and reads your name out loud. When you nod in confirmation, he smiles wider.

“So, what are you studying then?”

“I’m studying political science.”

Yuta lets out a low whistle. “Sounds tough.”

“Sometimes, yeah. What are you studying?”

“Astronomy.”

“That’s very romantic.” He smiles in response.

“I suppose so, yeah. I guess you’d have to be romantic to look into an abyss full of flaming gas balls and think that’s fascinating.”

“Sorry to hear about your hot balls. You should probably get that checked out. I’m studying literature.”

Donghyuck shows up with a tray full of your food and takeout containers.

Yuta raises an eyebrow. “‘Sup?”

“What are you doing here? Did you come to bully the baristas?”

“Clever,” Yuta eyes him up and down. “You know I’m a grad student in the astronomy department. How do you forget every time?”

“Ah, you’re right. How could I forget. So what are you, like, 45 now?”

“Hyuck!”

“Sorry,” he sniffs. Clearly, he’s not sorry.

He trudges off to the nearest empty table to put the food down long enough to pack it up. You follow behind, with Yuta trailing alongside you.

“I’m sorry about him. Usually he’s...well, actually he is kind of like that.”

“I don’t mind. I just wanted to say that it was nice to finally meet you officially,” he starts off.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Same.”

Something about your response must be funny because Yuta laughs again to himself before shoving his phone back in his pocket.

“Can I call you some time?”

“Me?”

He laughs again. “Yes, you.”

“Okay.”

“Cool.”

You say your goodbyes to Yuta. It’s awkwardly formal because you’re not sure how these things usually go. When you finish waving a stilted hand at him, you turn around to find the food has been packed up and Donghyuck is fuming silently behind you.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I just don’t get why he of all people decided to butt in.”

He starts walking towards the exit, long legs eating up the distance at a speed that means you have to jog a little.

“You sure something’s not up? Because I don’t really get what we were doing that was so important in the first place. Not much to butt in on anyway.”

“Well, you know.”

“No, I don’t.”

He huffs and continues speed walking. “We had plans to eat lunch at my place. And he delayed that. Now I’m even hungrier.”

“I thought we were eating at your place because you weren’t hungry enough to eat there.”

“I—I mean, yeah. But I started getting hungry in line.”

You point at the wrapped muffin in his hand. “Couldn’t you have just eaten that?”

“This...is for later.”

Normally you’d try to figure out what it is that’s making Donghyuck so pissy. But your phone starts chiming and by the time you got to his front door, the little message notification on your phone had gone off a dozen times—all of them from Yuta as you message him on and off. Donghyuck settles for sighing dramatically every time you check your phone.

“Doesn’t he have, like, blimps to stare at? This is too much.”

“Since when is there a limit on how much I text someone?”

“There’s not but—isn’t this a lot? You just met him today.”

“Technically we met last weekend.”

He scowls but admits the point with a wave of his hand and a bite of his food.

“Still. I don’t even text you that much.” Donghyuck sits back in his chair before scoffing. “And no one should text you more than me. I’m your best friend.”

“But what if he was my boyfriend?”

“He’s not,” he snaps. There’s enough intensity in his voice to surprise you both. He reels it in a bit with an apologetic tilt of his shoulders over his plate. “Sorry. But—have you heard what people say about him? He’s a complete dick to the people he sleeps with. Plus, he’s ancient.”

“He’s only turning 26 in October.”

“So you know his birthday now?”

“Yes?” You put your napkin down, hash browns nearly finished. “And maybe I’m using him too. Bet you didn’t think of that.”

“Oh,” he says after a beat.

“Anyway, I don’t get why you’re so mad about this.”

“M’not mad,” he mumbles.

“Sure.”

You continue texting Yuta as you eat your lunch. Donghyuck huffs as he discards his trash and goes to his room to change into more comfortable clothes. While he’s gone, you glance at your phone guiltily.

It’s not that you’re so engrossed with the smalltalk with Yuta that you can’t put your phone down. Honestly, you want to just put your phone down and go plaster yourself to your best friend. But standing less than 2 feet away from Donghyuck and still feeling like he was unreachable earlier at the cafeteria really knocked some sense into you. If Donghyuck was the sun, you were merely a planet caught in his pull, orbiting around him. He wasn’t meant to orbit around you.

Donghyuck emerges from his room looking only mildly pouty at this point and in a sweatshirt and joggers. Seeing him in pajamas is your favorite thing. It’s why you like hanging out at his place so much because as soon as you settle in, he changes out of his regular clothes.

“Are you staying?” There’s only a touch of petulance still lingering in his voice.

“Do you want me to stay?”

“Of course.”

He says it so matter-of-factly that you have to turn away under the guise of finishing the last bites of your lunch to hide a shy smile. The words sound so sweet coming from his lips, even when it’s not meant in the way you wish.

You settle down on the couch to get some more work done, but the hash browns sneak up on you. Donghyuck watches silently from his battered copy of Dante’s Inferno at your eyes drooping closed. He’s known you long enough to know the signs of your food comas when he sees them. He shuts his book after marking the page and gets up from his spot on the carpet.

“Come on,” he shakes your upper arm lightly.

“What? What’s going on?”

“Let’s watch some TV.”

“I’m working, I can’t just—”

“You've been on the same page for 15 minutes.

“How would you know?”

“Because I stopped reading 20 minutes ago.”

By now, any traces of his strange anger are replaced by smug amusement. You let yourself be manhandled off your seat and take the trek to his bedroom. He flips through channels while you can dig something up from his closet to change into. Donghyuck has a strict no street clothes rule when it comes to lounging.

“Sexy,” he drawls, looking at your outfit choice.

It’s one of his shirts with an oversized neckline due to an accident with the 10-year-old dryers in the basement of the dorms and a pair of ratty long johns to beat the cold of the AC. It’s not cute per se but it was all he had clean.

“Shut up.” You sit down near the arm of the couch next to him. “What are you gonna do after this? Don’t you have a department dinner?”

“Yeah, but I can skip it.”

“Hyuck, don’t skip department events.”

“I already have a rec letter from Dr. Chittaphon, though. So I don’t need to kiss ass anymore”

“He finally wrote it for you?”

In your excitement, you grab his closest hand in yours, giving a congratulatory smile. He smiles back an almost tender smile. In the privacy of his own dorm with none of his other classmates around, he nods with some enthusiasm.

“He told me about it yesterday. He said I can use it for as many lit programs as I want.”

“That’s amazing.”

Donghyuck’s cheeks flush a deep ruby as he fiddles with the knitted quilt to pull over you. True to his word he has some inane show queued up on the tiny TV he brought with him from home. But once the lights are off and the coffee table is pushed close enough to support your feet, you succumb to sleep. Donghyuck is radiating warmth and an extra something that, combined with the background noise from the TV, makes you feel like you’re floating. You shift so you’re pillowed by the arm of the couch and drift off pretend the moment is something else.

***

You wake up from the nap to the sound of your phone alerting you to a new message. The phone is resting on the coffee table, so you sit up to get it only to realize you can’t quite move. Donghyuck’s arms are wrapped tightly around your torso and his head has migrated to your shoulder from it’s resting place when he was sitting up. He’s so close that the tip of his nose grazes your neck. You test just how stuck you are by moving toward the table a bit. Donghyuck responds with a grumble and a warning nuzzle of his cheek against your clavicle.

The moment you decide to move one of his arms, he pulls you in closer and presses his open mouth to your exposed shoulder. It feels almost like a kiss, but then he lets out a snore that reminds you of your family pug and all the romance is gone. You continue to shift as best you can to reach your phone.

The notification on your screen tells you that the message is from Yuta, yet again. Donghyuck is still fast asleep when you peek down at him. Just to be sure he doesn’t wake up, you turn onto your side. Even in his sleep he follows you, readjusting his grip on you while slotting his face into your nape and his knees behind yours. Thankfully the couch is wide enough that he doesn’t push you off the edge. With the brightness and volume turned down, you open up your messages.

there’s gonna be another NKT frat party in two weeks it’ll be no fun if you’re not there

Donghyuck’s words about Yuta’s reputation ring in your head but you don’t really care. Instead his flirtation makes you feel zippy. He might be a player but you’re play the game too. You type a response out quickly.

i guess i could go...u better make it worth it my while.

After you press send you have to bite your tongue to hold in a laugh. You’re not sure why you’re having so much fun. A small smile makes it to your face and you press the phone to your chest only for it to go off once more.

“I don’t get it,” Donghyuck groans. His breath hits the side of your throat while he rubs his eyes. “He can’t be that interesting.”

Even though he’s not pleased with Yuta’s constant messaging, Donghyuck’s grip on you doesn’t let up. In fact, he tucks his face securely over your shoulder and merely plucks the phone out of your hands.

“Can I read what he sent?”

“I guess,” you mumble.

It’s hard to be annoyed at him when he’s warm and soft behind you from sleep. He hands you the phone so you can unlock it before taking it back and finding the latest message.

“He said, ‘by the end of the party, i promise it will have been worth it. how do you like your toast in the morning?’”

“Oh god. Don’t read it out loud, that makes it so unsexy.”

“That’s because he’s unsexy. Just tell him to fuck off.”

“If you don’t think he’s sexy then don’t fuck him.” He pinches at your sides and you yelp. “Plus, I don’t really have a reason to blow him off so quickly.”

“Uh, yes. Yes, you do.”

“I already told you I don’t care if he’s not the marrying type.”

“T-there are other reasons.”

“What are they?”

There’s a long pause.

“Okay, I can’t think of any right now, but I know they’re there. So just...please. You’re way out of his league, anyway.”

You snort. “Right. I’m not hot enough to get free drinks from people, so if I’m out of his league, what are you?”

From the little spoon position, you can’t see Donghyuck’s cheeks burn in embarrassment. Sophomore year you two had snuck into a bar and a few senior girls sent some drinks to your table after seeing him in a leather jacket. Since then the freebies have only increased now that he’s lost some of his baby face and invested in jeans that fit.

“Besides,” you snatch the phone back. “He’s the only one who seems to find me attractive lately.”

“There are other people who find you attractive.”

There’s a seriousness in his voice that startles you a bit. Donghyuck is a free spirit so there’s not much that makes him mad. But now his voice is a shade more gravelly than normal. When you roll onto your back you see that his brows slant heavy over his eyes. He looks truly upset. And you’re not sure why. It takes you by surprise and it must show on your face, because instantly his eyes go softer and he’s laying back down beside you.

“Even if that’s true, Hyuck, those people aren’t lining up at my door.” Donghyuck mouth purses against the back of your neck in frustration. “At least Yuta is being loud and clear. I can’t fault him for that. Just like I can’t date someone whose feelings I never know.”

“Fair enough.” He sighs finally, his words taking you by surprise. “You sure you don’t like him at least a little bit, though? This seems like a lot for someone you don’t actually care about.”

“No, I have...someone else.”

Donghyuck shoots forward to peer at you with wide eyes. “Who is it?”

“I don’t wanna say.”

“Come on, that’s not fair.”

“If I told you, I would jinx everything.”

He eyes you silently but doesn’t push much more.

“Is Yuta suddenly an option so you can get over this mystery person?”

“Maybe.”

“Then I’ll do my best to help out.”

“What does that mean?” Donghyuck sits up, probably energized by the nap.

“Yuta is the type of guy that wants what he can’t have. So you have to show him that he can’t have you.”

“Okay, I see where you’re going and I honestly kind of like the early 2000’s rom-com vibes. But how do you make someone think you’re taken when you’re single?”

“Leave it to me.”

Leaving things up to Donghyuck harebrained schemes often means that you aren’t in the loop even when you’re technically in the loop.

Yuta and you text on and off during the whole week leading up to the NKT party. Per Donghyuck’s advice, you give short answers and always take longer than an hour to open his selfies after he sends them. When you do respond with a selfie, you’re never alone in them. A picture of you coyly sipping from the straw in your iced coffee with Donghyuck’s shoulder in the background. A picture of your legs while you study in bed with Donghyuck’s hand partially cropped in the left corner. One of them was supposed to be a mirror selfie to show your outfit, but Donghyuck is fully present with a smug grin and a “friendly” arm wrapped around your waist. When your best friend first proposed the idea to you, it sounded like bro code bullshit. But it seemed to work.

While his snap stories remain full of other ‘acquaintances’, Yuta’s messages get a little more lovey dovey the more you ignore him. There’s suddenly a flood of texts telling you he can’t wait to see you and calling you baby. The act seems to be taking a toll on Donghyuck judging by his scowls after every photo you send. But you just can’t help laughing at how petty guys can be.

Friday rolls around and you’re actually debating whether or not you should bring a condom to the party. You obviously don’t know what size Yuta wears, but with the way he’s been talking over text you think maybe the evening might end well. Help-me-get-over-my-best-friend sex can still be good sex, even if it doesn’t help you get over your best friend.

So you take extra time in the shower Friday night, shimmy into something tight, and wait for Donghyuck to arrive at your place so you can leave to the party together. You had wanted to go with your classmate Jennie, since Donghyuck is a bit of a homebody. But that night he wanted to come, saying something about seeing his plan through.

When Donghyuck arrives, you’re taking a swig from one of the tiny nip bottles of vodka that you stashed in your purse. After a mere 5 seconds of having arrived, he takes one look at you and immediately groans.

“Are you sure you don’t want to just stay in? We can order Chicken Haus and watch that new show you put on my DVR. Or I could hire a stripper. I’m sure we could find one that’s way more personable than Yuta.”

“Hyuck, I need to do this. It’ll be good for everyone involved.”

“But why am I part of that everyone?”

“You said you would help me with this. And you’re forgetting that Mila is gonna be there.”

Sadly, it was also too early in the night and you hadn’t drunk nearly enough to be able to tell him that he’s involved because he’s the one you're trying to get over. You empty the first tiny bottle and begin downing the second one as you begin the trek to the NKT house.

“What does Mila have to do with anything?”

“While I’m hopefully...doing my thing, you can be doing yours. With her.”

“Why would I want to sleep with Mila?”

“You don’t want to sleep with Mila?”

“No? Who said I did?”

“Oh.”

Donghyuck scoffs at you like you’re speaking gibberish and passes around you when you stop in your tracks again. When you catch up to him, he swipes the new nip bottle out of your hand and finishes it in one gulp.

***

The party is in full swing when you arrive. You stand in the doorway of the front entrance and take in the scenery. The regular lights have all been switched out for red bulbs. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust and be able to make out faces properly because the color is so saturated.

The music is booming loud enough for you to feel the bass in your chest and echo across the soles of your feet as you walk across the room. Donghyuck helps you part your way through the crowd of bodies swaying to the music to get to the drinks table. With a cup in your hand and liquid courage going down your throat, you feel a little less nervous. You try to be inconspicuous while you scan the room for Yuta, but you don’t find him.

“I don’t see him,” you shout over the music, “What do you wanna do in the meantime?”

“Go home,” Donghyuck scowls into his cup.

You flip him off for being a wet blanket and finish the contents of your cup. Just as you move for a refill, you happen to find Yuta in the crowd. He’s not alone either. There’s a girl with long red hair in front of him, dancing while he smiles wolfishly. You think you recognize her from one of his instagram posts. Suddenly, you’re not feeling so bold anymore.

“There he is,” you say just loud enough for Donghyuck to catch. Even over the music he can hear the resignation in your voice. He follows your gaze over to the dark corner where the girl now has herself pressed against him.

“Shit.”

“Yeah. Shit.” Donghyuck straightens up.

“It’s not too late, though.”

“How is it not? She’s practically got him in a to-go box.”

“Maybe, but he might just not know you’re here. You can still plant the seed. You know, let him know what he’s missing, at least.”

Donghyuck’s features are now angled in focus. In the red party lights, the serious expression squares off his jaw, sharpens the planes of his face. He looks handsome and he wants to help you even though he hates the guy he’s trying to help you with. You don’t know whether to be angry or feel fond. It’s not like you really want him to help you get with another guy, but the fact that he’s swallowing his own pride to do it shows he cares. He’s a good friend, you muse. And you can’t mess that up just because you caught feelings.

With vodka and spiked punch humming in your veins, you toss your shoulders back and grab your friend’s hand. Making a beeline through the crowd once more, you make sure to end up in a spot that’s directly in Yuta’s eyeline. Donghyuck falls in front of you instinctively, acting as a wall to spy behind. The music changes and you move with it to look natural. Your arms come up to wrap around your friend’s broad shoulders and your body comes up to press against his. Donghyuck looks down at you.

“Sorry,” you plead through the thumping bass of the song, “I know this is weird but I just figured if it looked like—”

“No, I get it. Keep going.”

Then, he’s locking you in with a hand on the small of your back and stepping in time with the beat of the song. You follow suit and as soon as you do, Yuta looks away from his friend for a split second. Your eyes meet, he takes in the scene, and you give him your best teasing grin. Instantly he looks intrigued. His eyes don’t return to the girl in front of him and instead he raises an eyebrow. As if to say ‘I thought you said he wasn’t your boyfriend’. You respond with a coy eye roll but also graze your hands lightly up the column of Donghyuck’s back for effect. You’re so caught up in your act that you forget yourself and go so far as to rake your nails across the nape of his neck. He shivers against you and for a moment you think you’ve crossed a line. But then he’s spinning you around.

Now your back is to Yuta while Donghyuck sizes the older man up. The plan is no longer in your control and you’re nervous.

“What are you doing,” you hiss into his ear.

“I’m just doing my part.”

Donghyuck makes sure Yuta is watching before leaning in and pressing his mouth to yours. Once the initial shock wears off, you freeze up for a different reason. On the one hand, this is what you’ve been waiting for. On the other hand, this isn’t how you had imagined your first kiss with him. You certainly don’t want it to have happened only because he was trying to get some other guy interested in.

The way his lips caress yours softly makes you pliant for a moment. You let your guard down and pull him closer with a sigh. His arms come to wrap around you completely and it feels so real then. It feels like the room is spinning. And then you realize it’s actually spinning as Donghyuck turns you both around just in time to give Yuta a glimpse of your entwined figures.

You don’t see the way the older student frowns lightly while being dragged away by his lady friend. All you see is a reminder that none of this is real. The way Donghyuck hugs you to his chest minutely as you kiss him isn’t real. The sweetness of the way he nudges his nose against you and switches the angle of the kiss isn’t real. The way he murmurs your name briefly against your lips before coming in to kiss you again, hidden from Yuta, is...not real?

You push at him roughly. He stumbles back like he’s drunk even though he drank a fraction of the amount you did.

“Donghyuck”

“Mission accomplished.” He grins at Yuta’s retreating back, passing his hand over his mouth.

“What was that?”

“Huh? Oh, that was just...it was just something to seal the deal.”

“Right.” You look down at your feet. “It was an act.”

“Yeah, no, it wasn’t real.”

He laughs but it comes out airy and broken. You try to laugh too but the sound catches in your mouth and a hitch comes out instead.

“Would it have been that awful if it were real?”

You watch as his jaw drops and he frantically looks anywhere but at you. It’s a trap of a question. A trap for the both you really, but you can’t stop yourself from asking.

“What do you mean? Like if we...if you and I were—”

“Forget it. That would be crazy, I don’t know why I even said that. I’m gonna go get some air.”

“Hey.”

The NKT house is one that you’ve visited a couple times for parties, so you’re lucky in that you know the layout well enough to be able to find a back door quickly. There’s not that many people on the porch that you find, so you don’t feel that bad about nudging some empty hard cider cans out of the way and letting out a pathetic little cry.

The rejection isn’t actually all that hard to take; you’d come to accept that Donghyuck was not for you. You hate the sound of your watery voice as you basically asked him if you had a shot only for him to act like he was being held hostage. The couple who had been making out on the other end of the porch get turned off by the weepy background music you make and head inside.

Sounds of another person walking onto the patio interrupt your crying, but you figure if you just cry louder they’ll be gone soon. When the footsteps get closer and eventually end up to your right, you wipe your nose discreetly and take a step away.

“Rough night?”

Yuta stands next to you with a smile. It’s not quite as sharp as the other times as he looks you over.

“You probably aren’t looking for this right now, but I just want to say you clean up real nice.”

“Gee, thanks.” You smooth a hand over the fabric of your clothes. “What are you doing out here?”

“I came to find you actually. Can’t stop thinking about you lately.”

You scoff. “Where’s your friend from earlier?”

“Her? She’s just a colleague.”

“She looked like she liked you,” you say quietly.

“I guess so. I’ve definitely seen that look before. Maybe that’s what it is.”

“Trust me, I know that look when I see it.”.

“I bet you do.” He pins you with an amused look.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You cross your arms and turn to him. He chuckles at your sudden annoyance, looking oddly charmed by it.

“Easy, cowgirl.” He lays a relaxed hand on your shoulder, pulling you near. “All I meant was that you must be sick of getting that look from your little ‘not boyfriend’.”

“He’s really not my boyfriend. And he doesn’t—”

“Look, I’m an observant person. I see things. I can read people.” He puts his beer bottle down and uses the now free hand to wipe at the drying tear tracks on your cheeks. “I know when someone’s trying to make me jealous.”

“About that—”

“And I know when someone is head over heels with someone else. And that guy? He’s completely gone.”

“Yuta, I’m sorry about trying to play with your emotions like that. I’m sure you get your fair share of that.”

“Eh, it‘s whatever.” He shrugs. “I will say that you did a good job. It was fun, even if I did get a bit jealous at the end.”

“It wasn’t completely my idea,” you confess.

“I think I kinda knew that.”

You stand in what you think might be companionable silence with Yuta. He takes another swig from his beer while leaving his hand lingering on you. Not in a sleazy way, but perhaps in an attempt at being comforting. Like maybe he’s trying to be a friend.

“So, what’s the deal with your friend?”

“He’s...I think it’s one-sided. I basically confessed out there and his response was kind of bad.”

Yuta turns to lean against the porch railing. You face out into the trees behind NKT house, he faces the house, watching people pass by and stop on the patio.

“What kind of bad?”

“It was like the idea of us together froze him or something. He got so nervous, he started stuttering. I just booked it out of there after that.”

“How do you know it was because he didn’t like the idea? What if he was, like, trying to contain his excitement or something?”

“That would be amazing. But the likelihood of that is insane. I mean, you and him are kind of alike.”

“Excuse me,” Yuta bawks. You laugh a little and pat his arm reassuringly.

“I just mean that you and he are both cool guys.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

“He’s super cool and funny and handsome and...warm? It’s probably just simple math or physics—how can you not love him?”

Yuta hums, eyes still trained on the partygoers passing by the porch entrance. Someone walks by the open frantically, then comes back to stand in the doorframe.

“I don’t know. Maybe you have a word for this since you’re in astronomy but isn’t that just how it works? The planets just gravitate around the sun. It’s not the other way around. He’s the sun and I’m...”

“Pluto?”

“Yeah, actually.”

You laugh because it’s a little sad but it’s perfect for your analogy. Pluto. Not even a real planet, doesn’t really belong with some of the other giants that have moons and rings of their own. But still helplessly circling the sun because the laws of the universe won’t let it go that easily.

“I’ll be right back. Don’t move,” Yuta says after a moment.

“Oh, uh, okay.”

You continue to look out at the backyard. With your eyes having adjusted a long time ago, you enjoy the dark cobalt of the night sky and the ink blot silhouettes of the trees in the forest that runs along the school’s border. The air has grown crisp and without the alcohol blanket covering you, you’re feeling a bit tired and cold.

“Hey, you misplaced this,” Yuta’s voice sounds again as he ambles back onto the porch. He hands you your bag and phone.

“Crap, you’re a lifesaver.” Oddly enough, you don’t really remember putting them down, but you suppose it was the chaos of the party that blurred the memory.

“I think I have to head out,” you say finally. “It’s clear that my head’s not really in the right place to stay out much later.”

“I get that.” Yuta leans forward and places a soft kiss on your cheek. “But I think I might actually have something related to this in some of my old notes. I’ll send it to you.”

“Oh, okay. Yeah, sure.”

Yuta waits around in a surprisingly gentlemanly fashion while you send an awkward text to Donghyuck saying that you’re catching a shared ride back to your dorm and that he doesn’t have to wait up for you.

The following day, you wake up to a knock on your door. Your head is pounding from dehydration and a too-late bedtime the previous night, but you still hobble to the door of your bedroom to see what the commotion is.

“Here.” Your roommate places a stapled book of pages into your hand. “Donghyuck came by to drop this off. He said some guy named Yuta gave it to him and that you would know what it was.”

“Oh-kay,” you yawn and blink down at the paper.

There’s a section highlighted in red on the lined paper. It says BINARY SYSTEMS in neat penmanship. You vaguely remember Yuta mentioning sending you some notes, so you put it at the foot of your bed and plan to read it when you’re more awake.

“You up for brunch tomorrow,” you follow her into the main room and find an overnight bag on the couch.

“Can’t. I’m going to visit my parents tomorrow since my Monday classes got cancelled.”

“Lucky you.”

“We can do next week though.”

“Yeah sure.”

***

Later that Sunday, when you’re stuck in a procrastination loop with your own work, you remember Yuta’s notes. You try to make some sense of them but even with coffee and an afternoon nap, it’s still too jargon-filled to bring any sense to you. So you do the next best thing and type the heading of his notes into an online encyclopedia. The first sentence for the page reads:

A binary system is a system of two astronomical bodies which are close enough that their gravitational attraction causes them to orbit each other...

You don’t really know what Yuta thought you would get from reading this. Maybe he just thought that you would be interested because you made an astronomy analogy. You pull out your phone, about to text Yuta for an explanation, when your phone rings. It’s Donghyuck.

“Hello?” You try to keep your voice neutral, free of embarrassment.

“Hey, where are you?”

“I’m actually just in my dorm.”

“I just saw Daisy. Is she—”

“She’s going home for a few days.”

“Cool. Can I...come up?”

“Yeah. Of course, yeah. I’ll be here.”

You hang up the phone and as soon as you enter the common room, there’s a knock on the door.

“That was fast, you must have—Are you okay?”

There’s dark bruises underneath Donghyuck’s eyes, a sign that he didn’t get much sleep the night before. He smiles self-deprecatingly and holds the door frame for support while taking off his shoes. You note that they’re his shower slides. He’s either more tired than you realize or he was in a hurry to get here. In his hand he holds a cardboard tray carrying two recyclable cups, one filled to the brim with whipped cream like you always ask for.

“I was looking for you,” he blurts. “Friday night. I was looking for you after you ran away.”

“Okay.”

“I was looking for you because as soon as I kissed you I knew I fucked up. But,” he puts his hands up, “not in the way you think.”

“I think I need to sit down for this conversation.”

“I—yeah, okay.”

Donghyuck follows behind you as you migrate to your breakfast table. He looks even more exhausted in the fluorescent lighting hanging above the table. He hands you your cup, and you eat some of the whipped topping thoughtfully.

“How’d you pay for this? Didn’t you say you had a negative balance?”

“I find a way,” he chuckles.

“What were you saying before?”

“I figured you wouldn’t really want to talk to me, but you left your bag and stuff with me, so I was gonna just give it back to you and then give you space, but then I saw you on the porch. With Yuta.”

“Yeah. He came and found me actually. We had a really strange conversation.”

“I know. I heard most of it.”

“Oh. Then you probably know how I feel.”

“Yeah.” He ducks his head to play with the cardboard sleeve sitting around his own cup. “Did you read Yuta’s notes? I gave them to Daisy before she left. She said she’d give them to you.”

“Yeah, I did.”

“And did you...get it?”

“Not really. I think he was just trying to convert me to astronomy”

“Well, after you guys talked, he took your purse from me. And he said he’d send me the notes too. So I read them. And then I didn’t get it so I read more, and then I thought about it and I think I got it.”

“What is it?”

“It’s you and me.”

“How is it you and me?”

“I mean, you kept talking about how I’m like the sun and you’re like Pluto. But we’re something else. It’s not you revolving around me or me revolving around you. We circle each other.”

“So, that means...”

You think back to the discussion you had with Yuta on the back porch of the NKT frat house and it starts to click into place. If hand-holding and back scratches and buying him lunch was your revolution, buying you coffee when he was broke, watching you pretend to do homework, and helping you bag another guy for your own happiness was his. Somehow you had missed so many little things because you were blinded by his light. But now, you could see clearly. Donghyuck wasn’t the sun and you were not Pluto. You were binary stars.

“Hyuck,” you whisper because your throat is suddenly tight.

You get up from your seat, nearly toppling your chair over as you make your way around the table. He opens his arms to meet you halfway and you pull his head to your stomach. Bending at the waist, you press a kiss to the top of his head. He buries his face into the fabric of your shirt and breathes out a deep sigh.

“I love you,” his voice is muffled.

“I love you too.” When he smiles up at you, you take notice of the dark circles under his eyes again. “Have you not been sleeping?”

“I spent a lot of time overthinking everything since Friday night. I kind of haven’t gone to bed since then.”

“You have to take better care of yourself.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“No, come take a nap.”

He lets you tug him to your room where your bed lays freshly made. You turn the blankets over and gesture for him to get in. He slides in to the wall and then turns to pat the free space beside him.

“Get in.”

“I’m not tired. I slept like a baby these last two days actually.”

His mouth drops open. “How? I felt like I had to read every article about brown giants just to get here.”

“Yeah, see, I didn’t do that.”

“I probably know more than Yuta by now, honestly.”

“You know,” you finally surrender to his annoying patting of the mattress and sit, “He’s not as bad as you made him seem. I actually really liked the vibe while I was talking to him.”

“Why would you tell me that while you get into bed with me?”

You pat his cheek. “I’m just wondering now if maybe some of your attitude towards him was for show.”

“It might have been. But I was feeling desperate.”

“I’ll forgive you if you just go to sleep.”

“I’m too awake to go to sleep.”

“Well, I don’t want to go out and do something just for you to fall asleep like someone’s dad at a baseball game.”

“I don’t do that.”

“You definitely do that.”

You reach a hand out to stroke his hair, making sure to graze the hair at the back of his neck. He freezes up and at first you think it’s just the area being ticklish for him. So you ignore it and continue. But he freezes up again.

“Okay, if you want me to sleep stop doing that.”

“What are you talking about—Oh.” Just as you were pulling your fingers away, you feel something press against your hip. Your eyes grow wide and he buries his face in your neck.

“Sorry, sorry. Don’t worry about me. I’ll go to sleep.”

It’s not the first time you’ve been in this situation. A fair number of times you’ve woken up first after falling asleep in front of the TV, wrapped up in him wherever you slept only to realize that he was still dreaming about ‘nice things’. Sometimes you were able to pretend you were still asleep and he’d quietly disentangle himself before going to sit in your living room until you ‘woke up’ for a second time. Other times, he’d wake up right after you and he’d say the same thing every time. ‘It’s just a reflex’.

“Just a reflex,” you ask because you're not really sure what to do.

“If you want.” He picks his head up then.

“If it’s not just a reflex, what then?”

You inch your hand under the covers at the same time that he props himself up on an elbow, pulling you closer. The sliding sound of clothes seems extra loud in the confines of your room and it makes your face feel hot. His hand appears near the hem of your shirt, grazing the sliver of exposed skin gently enough to make your breath hitch a little.

“Then we can just see where we end up.”

[geminijoonie]

Take care of you

Summary: “No I’m a surprise,” you say sounding all sassy and smiling where your cheeks fluff up and you look like a pufferfish and it always gets Namjoon. His eyes are crescents, dimples peeking from his cheeks.

“What would they say if they saw the big bad Kim Namjoon like this?” you ask raising your brow not as good as Namjoon but it gets the job done.

note: Hello, I am back after months with this piece. Feedback is always appreciated! Thank you for reading.

➡Mafia!Namjoon x reader

➡Warnings: 18+, Mentions of sex, reader’s family not letting her eat

Namjoon hates parties. Sure he’s the CEO, of one of the biggest crime syndicates in the world, the biggest and most feared in South Korea so he could have sent his associates or one of his brothers to attend this party but he was there for a very specific reason. Y O U.

With a frontal name of BigHit Inc., run by the most fearsome mafia BTS behind it, the most fierce crime lords and not by the old fashioned guns and murders way well, that sometimes yes, but mostly financial crimes, stealing money and intellectual property theft done so well they’ve been thriving the last few decades when their fathers, mafia bosses, seven families joined hands together to be sworn allies promising to take down and gain power over the corrupt government. Now run by their sons seven men, most of them educated in Ivy League schools. 5 of them even hold dual degrees, their leader Kim Namjoon or RM even holds a fucking Ph.D. A born genius, his IQ only amplifying his true potential. His members' capabilities, work ethic complimenting the jobs they pull off together as a team. This team was perfect and solid in all ways made to rule. As if fate had brought them together.

The party was boring as usual. All of the crime lords and mafia bosses with their families were here. It reminded Namjoon of the party, similar to this where he first laid his eyes on you. His gaze traveling from the bar section of the huge ballroom towards you at the opposite end where you were forced to make small talk. You stared back at him with the same intensity. Your eyes catching his gaze, latching onto his dragon eyes drowning in those dark orbs that stared at you. You weren’t afraid, not even intimated. No sign of a blush. You weren’t swooning like those other girls. You simply stared back at him equally fierce taking his presence in. Your own doe-like eyes even if not as sharp as his, held enough power to not only draw the attention of the most powerful, eligible bachelor, most feared CEO of an empire himself but also spark something in him. And ever since then your life and these parties have been different. You solely come here to see him. And the same for him. To see you.

What Namjoon and you shared was special. With your family owning amalgamation of big companies, reputable among the mafia bosses and crews it came with lots of curfews for you the heiress to your father. You were an asset. One that would be traded someday. To a man that would be chosen for you, based on his family, money and what value he can derive for your father and his business. And you shall be his dutiful wife, produce an heir and then wait for death inside some mansion. This was your fear. You were disgusted whenever any thoughts of how your future would be like crossed your mind. Amidst all the chaos, uncertainty and lack of control in your own life, you met Namjoon, your Joon. The man changed your entire perspective on love, intimacy and boy he had you pining for him even yearning. But what you didn’t realize is he was yours since he saw you for the first time two months ago.

Namjoon’s at his usual spot. By the bar. Waiting for you. With a drink in his hand. There was no way he could take you on dates given your family. The curfews. And that bullshit about what girls and women can and cannot do. He hated the way women were treated. He was lucky that his father was not as stupid as the others. He made sure that his sister was sent away to Switzerland to study, and live her life the way she wants to like any normal girl. And she was happy and so was his mother who lived in Japan with her own small business, even enjoying life. He hoped one day he can go away somewhere with you. Away from all this. Take you on dates. Hold your hand while he walks next to you. Kiss your cheeks whenever he wanted to. Make you giggle with all the cheesy compliments and then make out till his heart's content. Right now he had to settle for stealing glances in between. Carefully brushing his hand whenever he walked near you. This is all the affection or physical contact he’d get. On a good day, when people at the party would be preoccupied with taking some political party member down or something like that Namjoon would sneak you out to the roof, or to the parking lot inside his car to steal kisses. Heated kisses. Passionate kisses. One where he’d drag your soft lips between his teeth just to hear that moan. Running his hands all over your body while you clutched his torso, held on to his pecs and squeezed his biceps for dear life gasping for air. His plump lips swollen, his shirt buttons open, neck and collarbones littered with hickeys and marks you’d leave every time you had one of your little adventures. Namjoon would give anything to mark you just one small hickey but he couldn’t and he won’t risk your family finding you out. You have stylists and beauty consultants that will scan every inch of your body and he couldn’t afford to get you in trouble. So he holds back and tells himself that he’ll wait for the day, that one day you’ll be his.

All these thoughts suddenly clouding his mind made him feel so empty his forehead sweaty. He decided to step out to the balcony a little disappointed that he’s not seen you yet. He made sure your family was invited. He knows you’ll be there with them as your parents like to show you off like some diamond jewelry piece or an ornament they possess. The thought of you being married to someone else makes Namjoon’s blood boil. And even at these parties the way the other men scan your body, while you’re in your tight-fitting dresses draping your body perfectly makes him want to take his gun out and shoot them all. He looks over to the night sky sighing and drinking his third glass of scotch. Namjoon suddenly feels a pair of hands right above his navel and he’s ready to smack that person but he hears your voice and jolts instead trying to turn.

“Boo!”

“Were you supposed to meet me here?” Namjoon asks with a grin, lifting a brow as if he didn’t just get scared and pulls your wrist around his waist towards his back so he can hug you.

“No I’m a surprise,” you say sounding all sassy and smiling where your cheeks fluff up and you look like a pufferfish and it always gets Namjoon. His eyes are crescents, dimples peeking from his cheeks.

“What would they say if they saw the big bad Kim Namjoon like this?” you ask raising your brow not as good as Namjoon but it gets the job done.

“If I didn’t hear your voice, but only felt hands and if it weren’t you, they’d be dead princess” he responds voice deep and low holding that timber, his the last four words whispered into your ear. His breath making you feel ticklish so you giggle. He looks around to check if any eyes were on him and then, quickly pulls you into a hug. You smell divine as usual. Namjoon dips lower and places his chin near your neck. He loves it. The smell of your perfume, your shampoo combined with your own sweet natural scent. Makes him feel like some kind of animal, primal instincts kicking in and he knows if he keeps his head there he’s a goner. But what he feels now is different than usual. Your body is warmer to his touch. He’s used to how you normally feel. And right now you feel warm, your skin hot when he slots his fingers on your forehead brushing your hair to the side.

“Looks like you’re running a fever are you okay princess?” he asks his voice suddenly all serious, brows furrowed his gaze boring to where his hands meet your skin. You want to say that you’re okay, but you’re not. You feel sore everywhere. Your legs hurt from wearing heels. Your dress is too tight and you’re hating the way it feels all over your body. It’s making you feel uncomfortable. The material just feeling torturous against your feverish skin. You haven’t had proper meals because your family starved you so don’t look bloated for today’s event. They wouldn’t even feed you when you were sick. You threw up twice but they still made you come here. You need an IV probably. You thought you’d text Namjoon but since they were going to make you attend this party anyways might as well be here and get some serotonin from seeing him. You were always trained to say you’re okay. Making yourself seem strong. Your needs were never to be put first. But right now the way Namjoon looks at you, with so much care and concern makes your heart ache so you give in, tell him and you just want to sit down because you don’t know when your dizziness will be back. You want to cry because you’re so annoyed and irritated your brain a mess.

“No” you squeak out. You eyes now glossy and Namjoon’s heart just breaks at that. Only after a few seconds does he realize how your face gives away the exhaustion after he looked at it a little longer. The bags under your eyes can be seen. Even if the concealer did a good job of hiding the dark circles Namjoon can see how truly tired and exhausted you must be feeling. Your cheeks more hollow. Your posture barely making you stand straight or still. Fidgety. Weak. You lean into his arms. Your forehead meets his shoulder. His black blazer feels so soft. You sigh. you want to just stay there. Namjoon carefully pulls you off him while he cups your cheek and tells you that you both should move somewhere more private. You nod and sneak out of the room. Thankfully the party today was at a hotel, one of Seoul’s biggest and Namjoon makes some calls while you’re walking his hands securing you by his side while you make your way out. Namjoon notices how it’s hard for you to match his stride today. Even though the man is 70% legs you usually keep up with him by walking faster or leaping. But today you’re barely able to keep up with his slowest smallest strides. You walk for what feels like an hour but it’s just been two minutes. You’re back at the reception lobby and you see someone guide you and Namjoon to the elevator. The next thing you know you’re in a hotel room.

Namjoon leads you towards the bed once you’re in the room and the door is locked. A few seconds later you hear rustling and you know they’re the guards placed outside the door for security. You sit on the bed your legs finally catching a break from carrying you and the stupid dress around with those stupid heels. You loved wearing heels but not today sis. In your hazy state you try to pull them off only that you forgot to remove the strap first through the small metal buckle. The dress making it a struggle to bend over and reach for the straps. Namjoon sees your struggle and can’t help but let out a small giggle. You look up at him with those doe eyes, confused and there it goes his heart sinks again. He makes way his towards you, leans down on both his knees. He gently takes your right foot into his palm and with the other hand makes quick work to get you out of your heels. Within seconds he was able to accomplish what you were trying so hard to do. And with one of your problems gone, you just fall back onto the plush bed all grace forgotten. Once the head hits the soft cloud-like mattress you let out a sigh of happiness and then a groan. Your feet are still hanging downwards to the floor, your back was on the bed arched so you can rest your head down. But more comfortable than standing or walking right now but you’ll take it. Too tired to move you give up fatigue finally settling in.

“Move up sweetheart you’ll hurt your back” you hear Namjoon say but you have no energy. You don’t even respond sleep already taking over you. Especially now that you were safe, away from those eyes, your parents probably thought you’ll be talking to some guy impressing someone but little did they know you’d be here a few floors above the party with Joon. You don’t know what to call your little arrangement or these little sneaking out sessions are. You don’t know what Namjoon is to you. The two of you haven’t talked about it. It’s weird because you’ve talked about fate, why Namjoon hates seafood and how much you love the rain, the fraud patterns in his business but never about what Namjoon is to you. Not that you need a label, and not that maybe calling him your boyfriend would be a label like that, you’d actually like it. All you know is Namjoon likes you, for sure I mean he wouldn’t be kissing you like a starved man, you shoving your tongue down his throat or else. You know you love him but you don’t know if he loves you yet. It’s too much to ask for. Given the circumstances. You’re just glad you found him. And whatever moments you’ll get to share you’ll cherish them now and forever. You start thinking about all these moments while sleep pulled you in completely and you don’t hear Namjoon call your name again. You don’t hear him trying to wake you up. You don’t feel his hands cupping your cheek. You sure as hell don’t even feel his lips peck yours which is the first time in a while now. You don’t feel him undo some buttons and zips to get you off that dress. You don’t even feel the way he tucks you in.

All you now know is you wake up in a blanket nest. Soft blankets against your cheek, your hands, your legs. You sigh at this feeling smiling to yourself. You’re moving and stretching. Feeling like a new person. You’re fully awake now even though you haven’t opened your eyes and that’s when you hear him

“Can you hear me now sleepy head?” you know he’s only teasing you but you pout before opening your eyes to see him at the other side of the room with an amused smile.

“New person who dis” you reply only making him laugh. Namjoon’s shirtless. He’s wearing his dress pants, his blazer hung at the corner neatly next to your dress. And that’s when you realize you’re wearing his shirt while you napped.

“What time is it” you ask yawning. and when Namjoon says you register you’ve napped for three full hours. He makes his way towards you. He slowly climbs on the bed stretching his arm out for you and you waste no time in jumping to his embrace with your new-found energy. Namjoons smiling at that. He can never get used to how perfectly you fit against him. He’s the one sighing in comfort now. Sometimes Namjoon can’t tell if you know that he loves you or not. The way you make him feel. The way you make him crave your heart.

You peek up from his shoulder to look at him, his eyes never leaving you.

“Hi” you whisper smiling at him

“Hii” he replies back matching your hushed tone dimples on display and you can’t help but poke them. From here you can see how versatile Namjoon is. His expressions outside the usual are deadly. His sharp dragon eyes, jutted jaw, furrowed brows he looks dangerous and lethal. But now all you see is a soft dimpled giant with the cutest button nose and crescent eyes. His eyes hold so much warmth.

He gently cards fingers through your hair asking if your feeling better to which you nod. You reach up to peck his lips. And once you slot your lips onto his plush and soft ones you want more. You move your hand to the back of his head lightly carding your fingers through his hair spurring him on. Namjoon takes this incentive and slots his lips back to yours. You look so damn good in his shirt and now his mind is going crazy. Thoughts racing. He tilts your head so he can angle himself better. Little sucks and swipes of his tongue against your lips and mouth have your knees weak. He knows how to claim his jackpot already knows what makes you react and what you like. One hand reached down to knead your ass. You moan against his mouth breathless as you take him in. Lips swollen, luscious and glossy. Your eyes are unrelenting. And he decided it is at this moment, he has to tell you. He fears the worst will happen. That you’ll say no. And he might never get to see you again. Ever. But the way your body molds in his arms, the way you only always react to him, the way you make his heart always beat faster.

“Y/N I really re-really like you”  there it was. That slight stutter. To Namjoon each second felt like a minute now but your eyes become wide and yoU smile a million-watt smile a second later. His hopes are back up. A warm feeling in his chest. Like a lightbulb inside him was lit. You can see him glowing. Now that the weight of his worries is halved. You cup his cheeks. And he thaws in your affection.

“I like you too Joon” you say voice barely above a whisper. You feel like a teenager confessing to her crush. You cheeks are painted red and Namjoon hasn’t seen a beautiful sight before. And now it’s actually your turn to get something off your chest.

“Heck I might even love you Kim Namjoon what are you doing to me” you say before you can think more and it has Namjoon visibly gasping and he pulls you in for another kiss. This time softer. Truly holding you against him. The way you belong to him. And the way he belongs to you. No more unsaid words. No more doubts.

“fuck baby girl be mine I love you too” he whispers inbetween kisses. You want to say something back but his lips are back on yours, molding them, tongue exploring. Leaving kisses at the corner of your mouth. On your chin. Your jaw. Slowly making its way down to your neck. You’re already so far gone you’re a whiny mess. Your body jolting backwards each time his lips touch the skin on your neck. fuck, you were so sensitive and that had his mind filled with filth. Moans dripping when he sucks and licks so gently. Your hand on his pecs, gripping his biceps or at the nape of his neck. Gentle touches, gets him so riled up and you know it. Moments with you like this lets him break his facade. Dive into his desires.

“So sensitive for me” Namjoon mutters to himself continuing his ministrations. One hand at the back supporting you, holding you strong. Another rubbing circles at your stomach for a few seconds, then holding you by the shoulder the next few seconds or groping your breasts softly making you whimper and suck in breaths.

Only when he slips his hand under his shirt on you does he realize the added warmth to your skin is from your fever reminding him of exhausted state and whatever you have going on will only make it worse if you don’t get to rest. Namjoon feels how flaccid and sunken your tummy feels. Not the way it usually does. He can easily notice all the inches you’ve lost. And suddenly there’s a change of energy.

“Those assholes, fuck princess let me take care of you” he says letting you go. His eyes have already changed. The hurt and anger you could see in them made a shiver run up your spine. You can never get used to his eyes. The anger he is actually capable of. He’s always so kind, gentle and sweet to you but that’s just one side. Within minutes there’s food at your room. Everything that you like is here. Gimbap but with extra cheese. Kimchi-jigae with egg-fried rice rather than normal rice because you like it that way and even some dessert. This man really put in everything he knew about you. You looked at him with so much adoration it only made his face turn red while he looked down and scratched the back of his head. Kim Namjoon was shy right now all dimples and smiling. You giggled and pulled him towards you so the two of you can enjoy this meal. You don’t know when your phone will start blowing up. You don’t know when you’ll have to leave, go away from Joon, his warmth, his comfort and his solace. So you take in this moment with everything it has to offer. Grateful that even the few minutes you spent awake with this man made you feel loved to the extent where you're always at a loss of words.  

divider: @graph1cs

[fantastic-bby]

The Diamond Support

Pairing: (F)Reader x Bang Chan

Word count: 8.2k

Genre: Twitch Streamer!Bang Chan || College AU || Fluff || A bit of crack || It kinda feels like a Cinderella spin off, but I don’t know anymore

Summary: When Chan gets extremely drunk during a college party, he ends up playing a game of League of Legends with a girl he doesn’t know. He wakes up the next morning hungover and with almost no recollection of what happened the night before. He only realises that there’s a new summoner name in his friends’ list while he’s doing a stream and he’s determined to find out who ‘The Diamond Support’ is...

Warnings: -

Masterlist

“Aaaaaand that’s all for today! Thank you for joining me today, and thank you for all of the donations, they are very appreciated.” He clapped his hands together, trying his best to read the many passing comments. “I hope maybe I can invite more of you guys to play with me next time. Bye guys!” Chan waved as he turned the stream off. He leaned back in his chair and took his headphones off, hanging them around his neck as he ran his hand through his messy blond hair.

Chan looked at the calendar hanging on the wall of the room; the next day marked his third year as a streamer. Honestly, it didn’t seem that much of a special day for him anymore. Chan found himself lacking enthusiasm with his streams with every passing day. He didn’t exactly know why he was becoming less and less invested in streaming. He loved gaming, he loved talking to his subscribers but he found himself feeling bored during streams nowadays. He had tried playing new games, but nothing seemed to fill the void he had in his heart.

He pushed himself away from his desk to allow himself room to stretch his arms and legs out. At first, he blamed it on stress, but Chan managed to set up a schedule that would allow him to finish his assignments and study with enough time to stream for at least one game of League of Legends or PUBG. Although the work was increasing, Chan was still able to stream and study comfortably - or maybe it wasn’t as comfortable as it used to be. He used the money he earned from streaming to buy himself an apartment and upgrade his crappy laptop setup into a proper desktop; dual monitors, a comfortable gaming chair, and the best CPU he could afford. 

To Chan, gaming was still a hobby. He never saw it as a job because he knew that if he saw gaming as a job, he would start hating it. Thus why he never wanted to become a professional gamer despite the fact that he had the skills to join a pro team. Chan was high ranking in all the games he could play; Diamond in League of Legends, Divine in Dota 2, and Elite in PUBG. But, there was something about gaming that he could never see himself devoting his entire being to. 

The fact that he was a streamer surprised no one; he was an excellent gamer. What surprised the people around  him was his choice in majoring in music composition. His parents knew he loved making music, but they never really expected him to study it. They assumed Chan was choosing a more technical major - a more gaming major. When he had come out saying he wanted to learn music and not something game related, his parents were surprised but they supported him nonetheless. 

“Chris,” The door opened and Chan ended up jumping in his chair from the sudden intrusion.

“Dude, knock.” He scolded as he turned to see his flatmate poking his head into the gaming room. 

“Do you wanna go to a party tonight?” Felix completely ignored the fact that he didn’t knock and left the older male to stare at him for a moment. 

“Depends on whose party it is.” He shrugged as he turned back to one of his monitors. 

“Minho hyung.” He stated. “He’s celebrating something and he said it’s just going to be a small gathering.” Chan took note of Felix’s smooth transition from English to Korean; he was getting more fluent as the days went by.

“Small gathering?” Chan turned to him and cocked an eyebrow. “We both know that’s a lie.” He chuckled. 

“That’s what I said, but Minho hyung said he promises it’s a small gathering this time.” Felix added. Chan looked around his bedroom for a moment. He had time to spare. He finished all of his major assignments and the ones he hadn’t finished yet weren’t due until Monday. 

“Sure.”

»»————-　　————-««

“Small gathering, my ass.” Chan grumbled as he tried to squeeze his way through the crowd of dancing college students while holding onto Felix’s hand so as to not lose the poor boy. The two of them managed to find Jisung sitting on the kitchen counter of the house. 

“Where’s Minho hyung?” Felix questioned as he sat himself beside the performing arts major. Jisung looked around the crowded house - his house - before shrugging. 

“He was here a minute ago. I knew I shouldn’t have agreed to his ‘small gathering’.” He grumbled. All he wanted to do that night was have a good time with his friends. Even though they knew Minho tended to invite more than just his friends, Jisung - along with his housemates Changbin, Jeongin and Hyunjin - still agreed to having the ‘small gathering’. “Have a drink. It’s supposed to be a fruit punch, but it either has tequila, vodka, or both.” 

“What is he celebrating anyway?” Chan asked as he sat himself on the edge of the counter. 

“Something about passing a test he thought he would fail…? It was really vague, I think he just wanted to have a party. It’s been a while since we actually let him have a party, so it’s understandable, I guess.” Jisung told the two. Chan looked around the crowd, finally able to spot Minho in the middle of the crowd dancing with a handful of sorority girls and frat guys that he was friends with. 

“You know, when I first met Minho, I never thought he was a party guy.” Chan chuckled. “Look at him now. He’s practically friends with the entire university.” 

“He’s the embodiment of a tsundere.” Felix chuckled as well as he followed his gaze. Minho locked eyes with Felix and he seemed to perk up even more as he made his way through the crowd and over to his friends. 

“Hey! You guys made it!” He cheered as he hugged the both of them. 

“What are we celebrating, Minho hyung?” Felix questioned when he pulled away. 

“I got the job as a backup dancer!” Minho announced and his three friends immediately lit up. 

“Oh my god, dude! Congratulations!” Chan cheered. 

“That makes this party totally acceptable!” Jisung laughed as he finally poured himself a cup of the spiked punch. “I thought you were just bored.” He confessed. 

“I told you it was something huge.” Minho shrugged as he watched them each pick up their own solo cups. To be fair, his exact words were ‘Let’s have a party. I passed the test’. “I wanted this party because I know you guys are stressed. Let loose, go wild, whatever happens, I’ll settle it, okay?” He turned more towards Chan and patted him on the back before disappearing into the crowd once again. Chan had mentioned his growing stress to Minho, so it made sense that he was directing it more to the streamer.

“I guess partying once in a while wouldn’t hurt.” Felix shrugged before he disappeared into the crowd to follow Minho. Jisung turned to Chan and they both shrugged before downing their drinks. It didn’t take long for Chan to get drunk. He was a lightweight and everyone knew that. By ten o’clock, he found himself so drunk, he could barely hold his head up as he conversed with a girl that sober Chan would know he had never met before. 

“So, I guess I’m like a reeeaaaaallyyyyy good gamer.” Chan slurred as he talked to the girl, his entire Korean vocabulary slowly going out the door. “I’m diamond in League of Legends and I’m an AD carry.” He continued. 

“Are you? I’m a diamond support.” You raised an eyebrow, amused by his messy mix of Korean and English. You were obviously not drunk at all, but to Chan, he could barely tell the difference due to his intoxicated state. 

“I’m Chris. Some people call me Chan, some people call me Chris.” He introduced himself and extended his hand to you. You shook his hand and laughed when he stumbled out of his seat. “I can prove I’m a good AD carry.” He furrowed his brows. “These guys have a gaming room. Let’s play a game together.” He suggested. 

“Sure, but it can’t be ranked. I’m not losing any LP because of you.” You joked as you followed him. He stumbled around, forcing you to let him lean on you until you reached the gaming room and sat down at two of the computers. The housemates weren’t making as much as Chan would on his own time, but they were still working enough to afford renting the house together as well as decorating it and living comfortably. 

“Alright, you’re a support? Support me. Let’s lane together.” Chan mumbled out as he squinted his eyes, the alcohol making it hard for him to see or know what was going on. You simply laughed and watched as he tried to make his way around the game. You knew he wouldn’t be able to play properly, but he was cute and you weren’t going to pass up the chance to play a game with Chan.

As expected, the game was a complete failure. Chan looked like he could make out what was happening on screen and he was completely feeding the enemy team, but you simply let him, laughing as you watched him play and did your best to support him.

Throughout the game, it had somehow processed in his head that you were his best friend and he ended up being even more of a mess before. Chan’s mistake for thinking you were someone he knew, made him more comfortable and loose. "You're really pretty, support girl. I like you." He slurred. 

"Thanks, Chris. You're cute, too." You chuckled, blaming his sudden affection towards a complete stranger on his intoxicated state. You watched as he slowly leaned his head against the table. 

“I think I’m a bit sleepy, support girl.” He mumbled out softly. You hadn’t exactly told him your name and he resorted to calling you ‘support girl’ - which you had no problem with. 

“You should rest a bit, Chris.” You told him gently. 

“I don’t understand you.” He grumbled as he turned to you. Why weren’t you surprised Korean wasn’t processing in his mind?

“I’ll get your flatmate, Felix, was it? I’ll get him to bring you home.” You told him in English before leaving the game room and returning to the party downstairs to find Minho. You knew he was friends with Chan, and Minho was the only other person you knew personally. “Minho!” You called out as you pushed yourself into the centre of the living room where Minho was. He turned around to see you and he smiled. 

“(Y/n)! What’s up?” 

“Do you know who Felix is? Chris is upstairs and he looks like he might either pass out or throw up on your computers!” You were forced to yell due to how loud the music was. 

“Felix? He’s right here!” Minho pulled Felix up from the side but the silver haired boy was pretty much as drunk as Chan was. “I don’t think he can bring Chan home, though. I’ll get someone else to take him home, don’t worry!” He reassured you, but you didn’t know how you felt about leaving Chan in the gaming room for any longer. 

“Do you know where he lives? I can take them home!” You suggested and Minho eyed you for a moment. 

“Why? You don’t usually care about people you don’t know.” His head cocked to the side, a smug look on his face, but you simply slapped his shoulder to get whatever idea he had out of his mind.

“If I don’t take him home now, you can say goodbye to your Razor setup!” You warned, snickering when you saw Minho’s face drop. His hands immediately pushed Felix into your arms.

“I’ll text you their address. Don’t let him throw up on my computer!” Minho yelled as he watched you pull Felix out of the crowd and to a more quiet area. 

“Who are you?” Felix slurred as he looked up at you in confusion. 

“I’m going to get you and Chris home. Just sit here patiently and I’ll go get Chris.” You stated as you sat him down at the foot of the stairs before quickly making your way back to the gaming room. You knew better than to let Chan throw up all over the computers and you were more scared of Minho than you’d like to admit. You stepped into the gaming room to see him on the verge of passing out; his head resting on the desk with his eyes half lidded. 

“Chris, I’m taking you home.” You told him gently and he nodded as he pulled himself off of the chair, stumbling in the process. You caught him before he could fall over and he leaned himself against you. 

“You’re like a real support, but you’re carrying me instead.” He snorted and you giggled. You knew Chan was adorable, but you never thought he would be this adorable. You had always seen Chan around campus whenever you were on your way to class. You were a business major, meaning you had no classes together at all. You weren’t the most extroverted person either, but somehow, Minho had pushed himself into your life when you joined the dance club.

Minho was an interesting character. He didn’t seem like the outgoing and extroverted type, but he really was one. He was friends with most of the university students and he had even managed to make friends with you; a girl who didn’t care about making friends in university and someone who just wanted to graduate so you could get on with your life. 

You were also one of the many students that were aware of Chan’s streams. He was quite locally famous because of his high ranks and his enthusiasm. You were one of his viewers, but he didn’t have to know that. He also didn’t have to know that you had been harbouring a small crush on him; a crush that you were hiding from every living being on the planet.

You felt like Chan was out of your league. He was handsome, he was athletic, he was an absolute sweetheart, and he was a hell of a good gamer. You decided against trying to get to know him, scared that he would somehow discover your crush on him and would end up rejecting you. You didn’t have time for rejection. You just wanted to graduate without any unwanted events - which was why you figured it would be better that he didn’t remember your name.

“Chris! This random girl said she’s taking us home.” Felix whined out in English when he saw you dragging his flatmate down the stairs. You giggled when he did - he seemed too drunk to converse in Korean as well. Chan had also given up on trying to speak Korean, the both of them breaking out into their pure Australian accents. 

“It’s okay, Felix. She’s my support.” Chan slurred, waving his hand at Felix’s whining. 

“Let’s go, Felix.” You helped him stand up and fortunately, he wasn’t as drunk as Chan which meant he could actually walk on his own. Unfortunately, Chan had to lean his entire weight onto you so as to not fall and slam his face onto the ground. You guide the two out of the house, bidding Minho goodbye, and begin your journey dragging home the two drunk students back to their apartment. 

Felix had caught on to the fact that Chan was calling you ‘support girl’ and that was what he was calling you as well. “Look! Support girl! There’s a puppy!” Felix announced excitedly as he ran towards the puppy. By the way he ran, you thought he had sobered up, but instead, you watched as he tripped over a bush and face planted into someone’s garden.

“Oh my god,” You grimaced. “Chris, I’m gonna set you down here. Don’t go anywhere.” You sat Chan onto the ground and he listened, but you didn’t think it was because he wanted to. You were pretty sure if he tried, he would end up being a hazard to himself as well as the world around him. You quickly made your way to Felix and helped the silver haired Aussie stand up on his feet. 

“Support girl, there’s a puppy over there.” He whined and pointed in the direction of the puppy. Your eyes followed to where his finger was pointing and you had to stifle your laughter when you saw what he was pointing at. 

“Felix, that’s not a puppy. It’s a rock.” You chuckled as you helped him stand. “Can you walk on your own?” You questioned warily when you saw him stumble. 

“I’m fineeee. I’m not that drunk.” He nodded and started walking towards Chan. You had to conclude he couldn’t because he tripped - again. This time into Chan. The older male let out a yell when Felix fell into him and you could only shake your head in amusement as you made your way over to them. The journey back to their apartment was filled with continuous stumbling as Felix kept tripping and Chan laughing at him whenever he did. 

“Support girl!” Felix called out and you stopped walking, causing Chan to stop as well since he was leaning on you. “What’s your name?” He questioned. 

“If I tell you, you guys wouldn’t even remember when you wake up, so it’s okay.” You chuckled as you urged him to continue walking. He obliged. 

“Hey, support girl,” He called out again and you responded with a hum. “Why is the sky blue?” Felix questioned. 

“That’s a dumb question, Lix.” Chan mumbled out softly, his head against your shoulder. 

“It has something to do with light.” You shrugged. Felix seemed to find the answer acceptable because he didn’t ask any more questions of the sky. Instead, he started asking about gaming. 

“What games do you play, support girl?” He questioned. 

“I play a few. League of Legends is my favourite, but I play PUBG and CS:GO sometimes.” You hummed out. 

“Are you ranked?” Felix questioned further. 

“I only play ranked in League. I’m a diamond.” You told him. 

“Wow!” He exclaimed excitedly and turned around to skip towards you. “That’s such a high rank! Chris is diamond, too!” You giggled at the way his eyes sparkled with wonder as he looked at you. Alcohol really made everything more amazing to him, it seemed. 

“We played a game together. That’s how I know Chris.” You explained. 

“She’s really good, Felix.” Chan piped in softly. You turned to face him and you saw the way he was looking at you. The corners of his eyes were crinkled as he smiled. "We should hang out more, you’re really pretty.” He added. You felt your face heat up, a faint blush growing on your cheeks. 

“You’re blushing!” Felix gasped. “Chris, she’s blushing!” He pointed out. 

“She’s not blushing, Lix. She’s probably just tipsy.” Chan shook his head before leaning his head on your shoulder once again. He lifts his head for a second to see Felix trip over - yet another - rock, his entire body falling forward and hitting the concrete with a thud. Chan bellowed with laughter.

“Don’t laugh at me!” Felix whined as he picked himself off of the ground.

“Hey, we’re at your building.” You pointed out, grabbing their attention. You followed the directions that Minho had sent to you and got the two into the lift, pressing the tenth floor as per Minho’s instructions. Felix’s energy was drained in a flash. He was leaning against the walls of the lift and closed his eyes as though he was about to fall asleep. “Stay awake, Felix. We’re almost at your place.” You waved your hand in front of his face and his eyes shot open. 

“Just a bit more?” He questioned and you nodded. 

“Just a bit more.” The doors opened to their floor and you brought them to their apartment, pressing in the code that Minho had sent to you. The lock opened with a beep and you pulled the door open, Felix immediately making his way to his bedroom while you dragged Chan to his. 

“How’d we get to my bedroom?” Chan questioned with furrowed brows as he looked around. 

“I brought you here, Chris. Get some rest.” You laid him down on his bed, tucking him in gently. 

“Goodnight, support girl.” He mumbled out softly as he pulled his blanket up to his chin and watched you with soft eyes. You smiled as you left his room, turning around to see him fast asleep already. 

“Goodnight, Chris.” You wished softly before you left their apartment.

»»————-　　————-««

When Chan woke up, the first thing he noticed was the sound of what could only be Felix tripping over their living room couch. The second thing he noticed was the headache that was pounding in his skull. The night was a complete blur to him as he looked around his bedroom. Wait, how did he even get home? He couldn’t remember what happened after he was dancing with Minho. Chan pulled himself out of bed and out into the kitchen where Felix was making coffee.

“Good morning.” Felix greeted him groggily. Chan responded with a hum and sat at the counter as he rubbed his temples. 

“How did we get back to our apartment?” He questioned. Felix turned around and stared at him for a moment. 

“Uhh, I think someone dragged us home.” He shrugged, his mind still trying to remember exactly who brought them home. 

“I feel sorry for them, then. We’re a handful when we’re drunk.” Chan chuckled. Felix laughed in agreement as he placed a mug of coffee in front of Chan. 

“I hope they didn’t suffer too much.” He joked as he sat beside his flatmate. The two sat together in silence, hoping the coffee would help ease their hangovers. Chan took a quick shower after he finished his coffee before returning to his bedroom, ready to start his stream while Felix ordered take out for lunch. 

“Good afternoon, morning, evening, night, whatever time it is for you guys. I’m a little bit hungover, but I’ll be able to get through today.” He greeted through the screen once his stream was on. “Today is a special day - some of you may know this - but today marks my third year since I started streaming. Whooo!” He cheered, reading a few of the comments congratulating him and cheering along with him. “For today, I’m going to play a few games, but I’ll start with PUBG. Hopefully, it’s a lucky day for me and I’ll be able to survive throughout the entire game.” 

With that, Chan began his stream. His games were going smoothly. He was honestly having a great time due to his win streak. He was interrupted halfway when Felix handed him a bag of kimchi fried rice. 

“This is my flatmate, everyone. His name is Felix.” Chan introduced as he spooned some rice into his mouth. Felix waved awkwardly to the camera before leaving his flatmate to return to his stream. His stream was going smoothly as he passed the second hour. It was when he saw a new friend in his League of Legends that he was suddenly hit with the memories of the night before. 

“Woah,” He leaned back in his chair. Chan was hit with the memory of him trying to play League while drunk, the presence of an unknown person playing with him. “Hold on a minute, guys. I just remembered something.” He muttered out when he caught a glimpse of comments asking if he was okay. He went through his match history, seeing the defeat from the night before. 

Chan looked to the comments before deciding that he should just continue with his stream before diving into trying to figure out who played with him the night before. So, he continued. He played a few games, his winning streak still blessing his gameplay, and he finished the stream feeling satisfied with his match history. 

Though, he still wanted to figure out who ‘The Diamond Support’ was. He decided against giving out your account name to his viewers, not wanting random people to start sending you friend requests. He clicked on the profile and as the name implied: it was a diamond ranked support main. Chan looked through the match details. The match started at 10:30 - that meant he was still at Minho’s party since he knew that he wasn’t using his computer. 

The image of him looking up at you while he felt so much adoration flashed across his mind. He remembered you dragging him home, his head on your shoulder as you tried to babysit both him and Felix. Then, Chan felt embarrassment wash over. You're really pretty, support girl. I like you. He let out a long and whiny groan as he slammed his forehead onto the desk. Why did he have to be so embarrassing when he was drunk? 

Chan needed to find you. He needed to know who you were. There was something about you that was pulling him towards you, but all he had was your summoner name. You were most likely a student - Minho may be friends with everyone, but it was unlikely that he would invite a random stranger who wasn’t a student to a college party. Chan wanted to know who you were and he ended up sending you a message asking whether you were free for a game. 

What Chan wasn't aware of was the fact that your cat pushed your laptop off of your desk, sending it to the ground and deeming it unusable. You weren't able to finish your assignments without using the computers at the library and you weren't able to open your League account. 

Sunday rolled by and Chan was sitting in front of his desk, staring at your summoner name. There was no reply and you still weren’t coming online. He assumed you were busy. College had a habit of sucking the life and meaning out of the souls of students, and maybe you just didn’t have time to come online. 

Monday came by and you had to come online eventually. Chan hoped that if he wandered around campus, he would be able to bump into you. Therefore, he dragged Felix around campus, hoping you’d cross paths. 

“Dude, where are we going?” Felix questioned as they made their way to the main office. 

“Something’s wrong with one of my applications.” Chan shrugged as he pushed open the door. He wasn’t exactly lying. There was something wrong with his TA application and he had to fix it at the main office. His graduation was coming up, and he decided that working as a TA for a while would be a good start to his life after studying.

“Are you sure we’re not just going to sit around and wait for that support to show up?” He cocked an eyebrow when Chan’s movements seemed to falter. 

“Just wait out here. I’ll be out in a bit.” He dodged the question, gesturing to the chairs and Felix let out a sigh as he sat down. Felix looked around at the people that were going in and out of the office, his arms raising above him to and his legs stretching out in front of him. His eyes were closed until he felt something hit one of his feet and a loud thud followed. 

Felix shot his eyes open to see you on the ground, the binders and files in your hands scattered all around you. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” You muttered out as you scrambled to pick them up. He immediately crouched down beside you and started to help you with the files. 

“Shit, I’m so sorry.” He quickly apologised as he picked them up. You were too panicked to realise it was Felix even when he handed you a few of the binders. 

“No, it’s okay. I was rushing.” You shook your hand as you took the binders. “Thank you.” You quickly thanked him before leaving. Felix was about to call out for you when he realised he didn’t know your name. As he sat back down, he couldn’t help but feel as though he had met you before - he just didn’t know when. He racked his brain to try and figure out why you were so familiar. Just as he seemed to almost touch the memory of you, Chan stepped out of the office. 

“Alright, let’s head to the cafe.” Chan urged and Felix obliged, the two of them making their way out of the main office and towards the in-campus cafe. Felix couldn’t get you out of his mind. Where had he seen you? He thought about it as he walked with Chan. He honestly felt bad that he couldn’t remember you. “You okay?” Chan’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. 

“Huh?” He blinked at Chan a couple of times. “Oh, I accidentally tripped this girl at the office. She looked really familiar, but I don’t ever remember meeting her.” He simpered. 

“Maybe she’s in one of your classes. You don’t exactly mingle with any of your classmates that much.” He suggested. Felix exhaled softly. Maybe you were one of his classmates. He didn’t talk to the other culinary students unless he had to. He continued to think about it silently as they approached the cafe when it hit him. 

Oh fuck.

“Uh, chan hyung,” He started and Chan responded with a hum. “I think she was your support.” Chan’s movements made a halt and he slowly turned to Felix. 

“Did you ask her for her name?” He questioned. 

“She looked like she was in a rush.” Felix confessed softly. Chan stared at him with an unreadable expression. “I don’t even think she knew who she was bumping into!” He defended but his flatmate still didn’t reply. Felix wasn’t wrong. You were in such a rush to deliver the documents that you didn’t even realise it was Felix you had bumped into. Chan walked away from Felix wordlessly and he let out a whine in response. “Hyung! It’s not like you won’t meet her eventually. She’ll have to get onto League at some point!” He whined as he chased after his flatmate.

Felix realised after they left the cafe exactly what was going on. Chan was waiting for you to magically appear by wandering around the campus. They had visited almost every building and shop on campus when Chan decided to stop at the campus’s centre fountain. 

“Chris, I don’t think she’s just going to suddenly show up.” Felix reasoned as they sat at the bench in front of the fountain. “And I know for a fact that you didn’t sleep last night.” He added. Chan let out a soft sigh. 

Felix was right. Chan couldn’t sleep that night because he had an assignment due at eight a.m. on Monday. He had to pull an all nighter and only managed to sleep at nine. Even then, he got up at ten to head to the office. He was functioning on one hour of sleep, and Felix knew if he didn’t get any rest soon, Chan would most likely collapse. “Come on - if she doesn’t come online by tonight, we can ask Minho hyung if he’s ever played League with her.” He suggested and Chan nodded silently. 

»»————-　　————-««

"She still hasn't said anything?" Felix questioned. 

"She hasn't even come online since that night." Chan sighed and leaned back onto the couch. The two were spending their Tuesday night binge watching Brooklyn 99 because Felix wanted to help take his mind off of you. 

"What are you gonna do if she doesn’t come online at all?" He glanced over at the blond male. 

"I guess I'll try looking for her around campus again. She's probably friends with Minho, so maybe I could find her through him." He shrugged. Despite his inability to remember much of what happened, Chan remembered feeling so much excitement and comfort when he played with you. Even while being dragged home, he felt so safe with you by his side. 

Chan met up with Minho the next day in the library, hoping that maybe his outgoing friend could help him figure who you were. 

"The Diamond Support? Sorry, hyung, but I don't play League of Legends." Minho shook his head. 

"Really? You don't know anyone whose summoner name is The Diamond Support?" Chan questioned and he responded with another shake of his head. 

"Try asking Jeongin. He's part of the gaming club and he plays League almost every night." Minho suggested. 

"Is he at the house?" 

"Jeongin's with his girlfriend." He stated. 

"Jeongin has a girlfriend?" Chan questioned incredulously and Minho nodded. 

"She's a med student. According to him, she's going to take pediatrics." He told him. 

"Makes sense. Jeongin's all about kids." He simpered. "Do you know anyone else who's in the gaming club that could help? I don’t wanna disturb him if he’s with his girlfriend." Minho let out a hum as he thought about it before he snapped his fingers. 

"You could try asking Seungmin! He's part of the gaming club, too." Minho suggested. "I'm not sure what his schedule is, but he might be able to help you. He usually hangs around the park since he's always taking pictures, you could check if he's there." He added. 

"Alright, thanks, Minho." Chan left the library and headed towards the park. It was understandable why all the photography students hung around the area since it always seemed to be the most photogenic spot no matter what season it was. 

It didn’t take him long to find Seungmin. He was usually under the same cherry blossom tree, taking pictures of the animals around him. Chan never really knew why it was always the same tree. Whenever he would ask, Seungmin would shrug and reply with a ‘it always has the best view’. Chan never saw much difference, but he trusted that Seungmin could. He was always able to find the best places to take pictures. 

Chan spotted him crouched under said tree, his camera to his face and his lens aimed towards a squirrel in front of him. Chan waited patiently - not wanting to frustrate the photography student - until the squirrel scurried up a tree and Seungmin stood up to look at the photo. 

"Seungmin, can I talk to you?" He questioned. Seungmin turned around, his features lighting up and a small smile curling his lips when he realised who it was. 

"What's up?" He greeted as he sat on the grass, patting the spot beside him. Chan obliged, sitting himself beside the young photography student.

"You're in the gaming club, right?" Chan started and Seungmin perked up further at the mention of his club. 

“Are you finally thinking of joining the club? Hyung, if you join, we could start a team that could make it to nationals!” He exclaimed. 

“No, I’m not going to join the team.” He stated and Seungmin deflated. “Do you know anyone whose summoner name is ‘The Diamond Support’ in League?” He asked. 

“Never heard of them.” He shook his head. “None of the students in the gaming club has that summoner name.” Chan let out a groan as he laid down onto the grass, his head resting on a root protruding from the soil.

“I played a game of League at Minho’s party with a girl, but I was so drunk I don’t remember her name or much about her. I just remember playing with her and thinking she was really fun to hang out with.” He explained as he brought his arm over his eyes. 

“Do you know what she’s majoring in?” Chan shook his head and Seungmin let out a thoughtful hum for a moment. “Then, why don’t you try asking Yunho hyung? He knows more students who play League who aren’t part of the gaming club.” He suggested. Chan lifted his arm from his face and looked at him. 

“I’m going to end up running all over campus before I find her.” He sighed. 

“Why do you want to find her so badly?” He questioned as he started picking up a handful of dandelions that sprouted around them as well as the fallen petals of the cherry blossom tree, scattering them on Chan’s stomach and chest.

“I don’t know why, I just can’t let her go without knowing- what are you doing?” Chan questioned. He didn’t move, but he was just watching as Seungmin kept covering him with various plants. 

“Taking a picture - put your arm back over your face.” Seungmin stated as he brought his camera up to his face. He obliged and waited until he heard the click of the camera to move his arm. Seungmin pulled the camera away from himself and showed the picture to Chan who let out a pleased hum when he saw the picture. He had managed to make Chan look like he had asked a professional photographer to take a picture of him. 

“Anyways,” Chan shook his head to bring his mind back. “I just remember feeling so comfortable around her. I just really want to know who she is.” He explained as he sat up, brushing off the flora from his torso.

“I think Yunho hyung might know who she is. I feel like he knows more people by their summoner names than their actual names.” Seungmin joked as he placed his camera down beside himself. “Yunho hyung spends a lot of his time at the boba cafe right outside of campus. He’s probably there right now.” He told the blond male who was starting to stand up.

“Thanks, Seungmin. I’ll think about joining the team, but I can’t guarantee that I will.” He clarified as he brushed his pants off before leaving the park to head on over to the shuttle bus. 

Chan was lucky the university’s shuttle bus took them out of campus, or else he’d have to walk a whole ten minutes just to get to the cafe from the gates. He couldn't believe he was actually looking for you like this. He didn't have your number, you weren't coming online, and he seriously felt like he had no other way in trying to find you. Every time he felt like he was close to finding you, you would manage to slip past him.

Chan stepped off of the shuttle bus and made his way to the small boba cafe. As expected, Yunho was sitting at a table inside with Seonghwa and San. Yunho caught sight of Chan and immediately raised his arm up. 

“Hyung! Over here!" He called, waving him over. "Seungmin told me you were looking for me." Yunho smiled as Chan approached their table. 

“Yeah, I’m looking for a girl who played League of Legends with me at Minho’s party, but I only remember her summoner name.” He explained. 

“I know most of the League players on this campus. What’s her summoner name?” He questioned. 

“The Diamond Support.” Yunho’s face contorted in confusion at the mention of the name and he turned to San, silently asking if the name was familiar to him. The pair weren’t part of any gaming clubs, but they were among the students who spent most of their free time gaming.

“I don’t think I’ve heard of them before.” San shook his head. 

“The name doesn’t sound familiar. Sorry, hyung.” He gave Chan a sorry look. Chan let out a another groan and sat himself on the empty seat beside Seonghwa. 

“I messaged her on her account, but she hasn’t even come online since that night. I asked Minho, but he doesn’t play League of Legends. He told me to look for Seungmin, but Seungmin said none of the gaming club students use that name, so he told me to look for you, but if you guys don’t know who she is, then how am I supposed to find her?” He rambled on exasperatedly. 

“Why do you want to find her so badly?” Seonghwa questioned. 

“I don’t know, honestly.” Chan sighed out. “I just remember her dragging my drunk ass home, and I remember looking up at her and just thinking, ‘wow, she’s gorgeous’ and that I felt so comfortable around her.” He muttered out. “I remember having so much fun playing the game with her even though I was super drunk.” 

“If she dragged you home, doesn’t that mean she told Minho? I doubt that you would’ve been able to even remember your address.” San pointed out. 

“Yeah, have you ever seen yourself drunk, hyung? I’m pretty sure Minho hyung would’ve texted her your address.” Yunho chuckled. Chan gave him a look as he thought about it. Why didn’t he think of asking Minho whether he knew who took him home? 

“Wait, were you guys at the party, too?” He questioned and the three of them nodded. 

“Minho hyung invites almost everyone, hyung.” San stated.

“You were really out of it that night, hyung.” Seonghwa pointed out. “You looked like you were ready to take off your shirt and start dancing.” He snorted. 

“You disappeared with a girl and I assume she’s the one you’re talking about.” Yunho added. 

“Do you know who she was?” Chan shot up from his chair, the three younger students flinching when he did. 

“No, but I think she’s part of the dance club. I don’t know her name, but I think it’s her.” He guessed as he took a sip of his milk tea. “I couldn’t see properly because of the flashing lights.”

“Where did they even get those lights? Minho hyung’s parties look like a club rather than a normal house party.” San chuckled. 

“He bought them online without telling the others because he knew they would say no. Hyunjin was actually pretty pissed because he wanted to buy a nicer set of lights.” Chan explained softly. “Wait, so do you know anyone who knows her?” He questioned, wanting to get back to the main task at hand.

“You seriously need to ask Minho hyung. He’s the president and he knows all of the students in the dance club. Maybe he knows who the girl was.” Yunho shrugged. Chan felt like he wanted to cry. He had actually spent the past three days trying to look for you. He actually tried walking around campus on Sunday night after a nap, hoping he would bump into you. He barely ever left his apartment right after a nap.

As he left the boba cafe, he was starting to think maybe he should just give up. One more. Chan thought to himself as he made his way to Minho’s house. The sun was starting to set and he was getting tired. If he couldn’t figure out who you were, he was going to give up. He stood outside the front door to his friends’ house, raising his fist to knock on the door. Instead, the door swung open and there you were. You were flustered at his sudden appearance and you were more so when you saw how he was staring at you.

“Uhh, Minho! Chris is here.” You called into the house. Chan continued to stare at you as Minho came to the door. 

“Hyung? What’s up?” Minho questioned. Chan looked between you and Minho. 

“Wh- I’m- I-It’s you!” He pointed to you. “You’re The Diamond Support, right?!” He questioned. You were so shocked by his sudden appearance that it took you a moment before you realised he was asking you something and you nodded. “I’ve been trying to figure out who you were ever since Friday night.” He let out a relieved sigh. 

“Oh, it was (Y/n)?” Minho turned to you. “Hyung, she brought you home. If you wanted to know who she was, you could’ve just asked who brought you home.” He stated simply as he turned back to Chan.

“I didn’t think you knew who brought me home.” Chan confessed. “I wanna play more games with you.” He blurted out as he turned to you and you were flustered from how straightforward he was being. 

“W-What?” You stammered. 

“Y-You wanna play a game together?” He stuttered out, his confidence seeming to falter the longer he was standing in front of you. “You’re a really good support. I somehow managed to get six kills even while I was so drunk I don’t even know how I managed to remember my password.” You blinked at him a couple times as you thought back to it. 

“Oh, you only got those six kills because the enemy team was really bad.” You giggled softly. 

“You were still my support, and I had a lot of fun playing with you.” Chris confessed. Minho had let himself back into the house to give the two of you privacy and you couldn’t help but feel like the whole affair was oddly endearing. Christopher Bang, the guy you had a crush on, had spent his entire day running around campus trying to figure out who you were. The guy whose stream you looked forward to whenever you had a stressful day of class, had been waiting for a reply from you for almost four days. 

“Chris, I-I honestly don’t know how to react.” You said as you stared at him in shock. His expression dropped slightly, the fear of being suddenly rejected washing over him. “But, sure, I’ll play with you.” You smiled when you saw the corners of his lips lifting and his shoulders relax. 

“Are you just leaving? I could walk you home.” Chan offered and you nodded as you walked down the steps with him by your side. “What were you doing here?” He questioned. 

“Oh, my cat pushed my laptop off of my desk. Since it’s broken, I can’t play any games, so Jeongin invited me over to use their gaming room.” You explained. 

“Your cat pushed your laptop off the desk?” He repeated and you nodded. His eyes flickered with realisation. “That’s why you didn’t come online over the weekend.” He muttered out and you nodded once again. 

“I’ve had to use the computers at the library to finish my assignments and today’s the first time I actually played League since Friday. I only saw your message just now.” You hummed out. “I sent you a reply, but I wasn’t expecting you to suddenly show up at the house. If I knew you were coming, I would’ve waited for you and we could’ve played there.” You told him. 

The two of you continued to walk together in a comfortable silence. You couldn’t help but think back to when you had to drag Chan home. The calming yet playful aura he let out then still seemed to surround the both of you.

“Wait, you spent the whole day running around campus to look for me?” You questioned when it hit you and you couldn’t help the guilty feeling starting to bubble in your chest.

“Yeah, but I didn’t know your name, so I was trying to find anyone who knew you by your summoner name.” His hand moved to rub the back of his neck sheepishly. 

“You could’ve asked Jeongin. I play League with him all the time.” You stated. Chan stared at you for a moment.

“Jeongin was with his girlfriend and I didn’t want to bother him.” He chuckled softly. “But, I guess if I did just head on to him first, I would’ve met you earlier.”

“Maybe it was fate.” You shrugged. You weren’t one to believe in fate, but seeing the way everything for him just led to you, maybe you were supposed to end up meeting anyway. 

“Are we like gaming soulmates or something?” Chan joked, causing you to breathe out a laugh.

“Maybe we are, Bang Carry Chan.” You glanced over at him when you mentioned his streamer name and his entire being seemed to light up even more. 

“You watch my streams?” He questioned. You nodded and his smile widened. “I haven’t been really into my streams lately, honestly. It feels exactly like what I didn’t want to game for; a job.” He sighed. 

“Well, if you try to avoid it becoming a job, it might just make you feel like it is.” You stated and Chan seemed to agree with it, his head nodding slightly. 

“That night we played together was the first time I felt that excited in a really long time. It reminded me of the first time I played League.” He chuckled. Your heart skipped a beat and you turned your gaze in front of you. “I think we have good team synergy.” Chan added when you didn’t say anything. He hadn’t felt this nervous around a girl in a while, too. He was trying his best not to scare you off.

“I think we do.” You nodded, glancing over at him. “I like our synergy.” You added.

“So, whenever you’re free, do you want to play a game at the guys’ house?” Chan suggested and you nodded. You didn’t want any unwanted events, but games with Chan were more than welcome in your heart. 

[simsadventures]

Another Day on the Job

Summary: You hunt with the Winchesters, while dating the older brother. When you get another werewolf case, it seems like it will be just another day hunting. But what if it turns out to be a literal nightmare?

Warnings: fluff, werewolves, angst, character’s death, swearing

Pairing: Dean Winchester x huntress!Reader

Word Count: 2077

A/N: This story has been requested by the special @flamencodiva​. Hopefully this story is something you guys will enjoy, despite the angst, or maybe because of it? ;) . Let me know what you guys thought :) xx Full request: May I request A Dean Winchester x Reader where the reader dives in front of him to protect him from a monsters attack?

Dean Winchester Masterlist __ Masterlist

Dean looked around him and saw a familiar surrounding. A crappy motel room, with two queen-sized beds, faded yellow-green wallpaper with what probably used to be a floral design, one old and a shabby table with two different chairs sitting opposite each other, and a door ajar to the bathroom, which looked more like a scene from a shitty horror movie than anything else.

He sat up on the bed, and looked towards the table where you and Sam were sitting, both on your notebooks, clicking furiously, trying to find what killed those two couples.

Dean knew what killed them, it was fairly evident from the way the victims were mutilated, but the two of you just wanted to be 100% sure before you went on a hunt.

He slumped back on the bed and put his arms behind his head, just watching you work. He was fairly sure that if you saw him awake, you’d be pissed at him for not helping the two of you, but he really couldn’t be less bothered. It was a werewolf or a pack of them, and all you had to do was to take your silver bullets and get hunting.

You scrunched your nose at something you were reading, and Dean had to smile. He loved those little wrinkles around your eyes and nose from your grimaces. You always complained about them, but to Dean, there wasn’t a single thing he would change on you. You were perfect just the way you were.

From the way, your hair was all over the place when you woke up because you turned left and right the whole night, or the way you snorted when Dean said something really funny or stupid, he loved it all.

He was quite sure he was daydreaming when he heard a cough from the table, and when he looked back at you, he saw you staring at him with your brow raised. He smiled apologetically and got up to kiss your forehead, which made Sam roll his eyes at the two of you.

“Alright, so we know it was at least two different werewolves from the scarred tissue on the second and third victim, so we gotta prepare. There may be more, we can’t be sure, so just be ready, ok?” Sam said sternly, getting up from the table and going to get his bag full of handguns.

You looked at Dean, and you both rolled your eyes at Sammy’s behaviour. Sure, werewolves could be bitches, but it wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle. You’ve been through much worse than a bunch of crazy beasts, and so it seemed a little unnecessary for Sam to act so tough. But you weren’t about to protest, because you knew you’d get a lecture on safety and whatnot, and you weren’t in the mood, not that you ever were.

Dean pecked your lips lovingly, and you caressed his cheek, revelling at the feeling of his stubble under your fingertips. Dean loved it when you touched him, whether it was his cheek, his back, or little Dean, it didn’t matter to him. Your touch was like a remedy for him, and he sought it all the time.

You got up from the table and went to get your things, Dean hot on your heels, slapping your ass cheek in the process. You had to giggle at his childishness, and the sound was music to Dean’s ears.

He remembered the first time he heard your laugh and even then he thought it was the cutest sound he’s ever heard. It was at Jody’s party, which you attended because you have been Jody’s friend for years. When Dean saw you, he thought you were totally out of his league. You looked like a badass even from afar, and he knew that his regular moves wouldn’t be enough to get you where he wanted you.

Safe to say, it took him almost 6 months to even ask you out, and even then he was a stuttering mess, and you had to try really hard not to laugh at his adorably flushed face. But you went out with him, and he made sure you didn’t get away.

Five years later, you were still by his side, and you two were stronger than ever. Hunting together, eating junk food and drinking together, having so much sex even Dean had a hard time walking some days, this relationship was everything Dean ever dreamt of.

Dean snapped out of it when he realised you were walking out of the door to join Sammy by the Baby, and Dean rushed to get his own things, and he sprinted out of the door to get to the driving seat before Sam got any ideas.

The drive towards the place where you supposed the werewolves were hiding was filled with light chatter between you and Dean, talking about what you’d have for dinner, and what movie you wanted to see. There was one particular with Chris Evans that you were super excited about, and even though Dean knew it was most probably just to stare at Chris Evans for 2 hours straight, he agreed to watch it with you. At least then he could be there to cover your eyes if Evans was to put down his shirt… Dean wouldn’t want you to think of any other man in bed, and he would make sure that it never happened!

When you got to the abandoned cottage on the outskirts of the town, you both shut up and turned on your hunters’ modes. The ones where you were alert to any sound around you, listening to your instinct like it was speaking directly in your ear.

You squeezed Dean’s hand, something you always did before the actual hunt, and he squeezed back, telling you that the three of you got this. He was sure that it would be one of the easier hunts, and the three of you could be home by the next afternoon.

You crept towards the cottage, each brother taking a different side so that you had most of the ground covered, and when you saw the first werewolf, already turned into the monster, you hollered at the boys and attacked him.

What you thought would be a pack of three wolves at most, turned out to be one with 10 of them. There was a lot of yelling and guns firing, screeching and gurgling and whatnot, from the dying monsters in front of you.

From the corner of his eye, Dean saw that there were people in the cottage, tied up to chairs, probably waiting for slow deaths, and he felt pretty great to have come at that particular moment. He could be proud of all that hard work later when the man and the woman inside were actually free, and they could live their lives happily, even if probably traumatised for the rest of their lives.

Dean was lunging at his third werewolf because the guns just weren’t enough and he had to use his knife. Dean fought off the monster, only to have it lunge at him again, this time with much more strength. Still, it didn’t faze Dean, and so when the werewolf tried to attack his right side, Dean ducked and coming back up, he pierced the knife through its throat, slicing a clean line.

While he was busy doing that, he forgot to look around himself.

He thought all the werewolves were dead and so it came as a surprise when he heard a grave howl from somewhere behind him, and when he turned around, a werewolf was running straight to him. But because he was relatively close, Dean didn’t have the time to move, and so he just stood there, waiting for the inevitable.

He heard a pained scream, and when he looked down, he saw you in front of him, with a werewolf’s claw wedged deep inside your chest.

Dean heard himself yell, and he took the knife he was holding and shoved it deep inside the beast’s heart. He didn’t care what happened after that because he was too busy inspecting your injuries. And boy, were they bad.

“Stay with me, Y/N! You hear me? You’re gonna be alright, we just gotta call Cas real fast, baby,” Dean sobbed, not even realising he was crying until he felt something hot coming down his cheeks.

“‘M fine, babe! I’m always fine. It’s just a little scratch,” you whispered, your voice raspy and shaky.

Dean could see your eyes closing and the way you tried to fight their weight, but it was obviously stronger than you. He was praying like crazy for Castiel to come, to heal the love of his life because he couldn’t even begin to imagine what life would be like without you in it.

Your chest was now bleeding heavier and heavier, and when he looked around, he could see a bunch of dead werewolves, but not Sammy. Dean only hoped Sam was also praying to whoever was listening to come and help his girl.

“I love you, Dean, and I-“

“NO!” Dean yelled, hugging you to his chest tightly. “Don’t make it sound like you’re saying goodbye. You’re not going anywhere, you’ll be fine, you’ll be-“

When Dean looked down into his arms, he saw your lifeless body slumped against his chest, your eyes closed, and your mouth ajar.

Dean closed his eyes and chanted your name like a prayer, trying to think of something to do just to get you back. He could hear somebody calling his name, but it felt like it was too far away, and frankly, Dean didn’t care. He couldn’t concentrate on anything else but your dead form in his arms.

—-

Something or someone was shaking his whole body, and when he opened his eyes, Dean saw your worried face staring down at him. He sat up so fast he almost hit your forehead.

He was breathing heavily, and he tried to remember where he was and what was happening. Was it Gabriel playing tricks again? Did he go to some kind of fantasy land to be able to be with you?

“Baby, what is going on? You were crying out my name while you were sleeping. Are you alright?” You asked him worriedly, touching his cheek in the process. This small move and the feeling in Dean’s stomach told him that this was very much real, that you were actually there with him, and that it wasn’t any trick or joke.

“We- we were on a werewolf hunt in Tacoma, and, and you jumped in front of me to save me and the beast got you and you fucking died in my arms!” Dean said, his breathing still shallow and heavy from all the panic he felt not moments ago.

You smiled at him and brought him to your chest, patting his head and letting your fingers wove into his hair to massage his scalp. When you finally felt his shoulders relax, and his breathing got back to normal, you pushed him away slightly, only to grab his face in your hands, making him face you.

“That hunt happened two weeks ago, Dean. And while I did try to get between you and the werewolf, Sammy was faster, and he shot it before it could actually hurt me. It scratched me, sure, but I’ve been through worse,” you smiled at him, and let him connect all the dots.

Dean suddenly realised that what you were saying was true. You had a little scar between your breast from the werewolf’s claw, but that was it. You didn’t die in his arms, nor did you even bleed that bad.

He sighed heavily, and let you draw him near you once again. Making your scent and your voice calm and soothe him enough that he could fall asleep again. It was all just a bad dream. But deep down, Dean knew that it could happen any day in this line of work, and he had to make sure you knew just how much you meant to him.

He would drive to the city tomorrow and buy you a ring. You deserved a fucking diamond for all you had to go through with him. He would make you his wife to show fate his middle finger. You two would survive this shit-show of a world. Or you would go down kicking. Both of you.

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[papermoonloveslucy]

SECRETARIAL SCHOOL

February 18, 1949

“Secretarial School” (aka “Liz Attends Claremont Business School”) is episode #31 of the radio series MY FAVORITE HUSBAND broadcast on February 18, 1949 on the CBS radio network.

Synopsis ~ George needs a new secretary, so Liz enrolls in secretarial school so she can fill the position. 

“My Favorite Husband” was based on the novels Mr. and Mrs. Cugat, the Record of a Happy Marriage (1940) and Outside Eden (1945) by Isabel Scott Rorick, which had previously been adapted into the film Are Husbands Necessary? (1942). “My Favorite Husband” was first broadcast as a one-time special on July 5, 1948. Lucille Ball and Lee Bowman played the characters of Liz and George Cugat, and a positive response to this broadcast convinced CBS to launch “My Favorite Husband” as a series. Bowman was not available Richard Denning was cast as George. On January 7, 1949, confusion with bandleader Xavier Cugat prompted a name change to Cooper. On this same episode Jell-O became its sponsor. A total of 124 episodes of the program aired from July 23, 1948 through March 31, 1951. After about ten episodes had been written, writers Fox and Davenport departed and three new writers took over – Bob Carroll, Jr., Madelyn Pugh, and head writer/producer Jess Oppenheimer. In March 1949 Gale Gordon took over the existing role of George’s boss, Rudolph Atterbury, and Bea Benadaret was added as his wife, Iris. CBS brought “My Favorite Husband” to television in 1953, starring Joan Caulfield and Barry Nelson as Liz and George Cooper. The television version ran two-and-a-half seasons, from September 1953 through December 1955, running concurrently with “I Love Lucy.” It was produced live at CBS Television City for most of its run, until switching to film for a truncated third season filmed (ironically) at Desilu and recasting Liz Cooper with Vanessa Brown.

REGULAR CAST

Lucille Ball (Liz Cooper / “Jenny Smith”) was born on August 6, 1911 in Jamestown, New York. She began her screen career in 1933 and was known in Hollywood as ‘Queen of the B’s’ due to her many appearances in ‘B’ movies. With Richard Denning, she starred in a radio program titled “My Favorite Husband” which eventually led to the creation of “I Love Lucy,” a television situation comedy in which she co-starred with her real-life husband, Latin bandleader Desi Arnaz. The program was phenomenally successful, allowing the couple to purchase what was once RKO Studios, re-naming it Desilu. When the show ended in 1960 (in an hour-long format known as “The Lucy-Desi Comedy Hour”) so did Lucy and Desi’s marriage. In 1962, hoping to keep Desilu financially solvent, Lucy returned to the sitcom format with “The Lucy Show,” which lasted six seasons. She followed that with a similar sitcom “Here’s Lucy” co-starring with her real-life children, Lucie and Desi Jr., as well as Gale Gordon, who had joined the cast of “The Lucy Show” during season two. Before her death in 1989, Lucy made one more attempt at a sitcom with “Life With Lucy,” also with Gordon.

Richard Denning (George Cooper) was born as Louis Albert Heindrich Denninger Jr., in Poughkeepsie, New York. When he was 18 months old, his family moved to Los Angeles. Plans called for him to take over his father’s garment manufacturing business, but he developed an interest in acting. Denning enlisted in the US Navy during World War II. He is best known for his  roles in various science fiction and horror films of the 1950s. Although he teamed with Lucille Ball on radio in “My Favorite Husband,” the two never acted together on screen. While “I Love Lucy” was on the air, he was seen on another CBS TV series, “Mr. & Mrs. North.”  From 1968 to 1980 he played the Governor on “Hawaii 5-0″, his final role. He died in 1998 at age 84.

Ruth Perrott (Katie, the Maid) was also later seen on “I Love Lucy.” She first played Mrs. Pomerantz (above right), a member of the surprise investigating committee for the Society Matrons League in “Pioneer Women” (ILL S1;E25), as one of the member of the Wednesday Afternoon Fine Arts League in “Lucy and Ethel Buy the Same Dress” (ILL S3;E3), and also played a nurse when “Lucy Goes to the Hospital” (ILL S2;E16). She died in 1996 at the age of 96.

Bob LeMond (Announcer) also served as the announcer for the pilot episode of “I Love Lucy”. When the long-lost pilot was finally discovered in 1990, a few moments of the opening narration were damaged and lost, so LeMond – fifty years later – recreated the narration for the CBS special and subsequent DVD release.

Gale Gordon and Bea Benadaret had not yet joined the cast in the roles of Rudolph and Iris Atterbury.

GUEST CAST

Florence Halop (Ruthie aka ”The Brooklyn Blabbermouth”) was first seen on television with Lucille Ball in “Redecorating” (ILL S2;E8) in which she reprised her role as the party line phone hog. She wouldn’t work for Lucy again until 1974, when she played a Little Old Lady on a Western-themed episode of “Here’s Lucy.” In 1985, she replaced Selma Diamond (who had died of lung cancer) as the bailiff on “Night Court.”

Frank Nelson (Mr. Allen, Bank Examiner) was born on May 6, 1911 (three months before Lucille Ball) in Colorado Springs, Colorado. He started working as a radio announcer at the age of 15. He later appeared on such popular radio shows as “The Great Gildersleeve,” “Burns and Allen,” and “Fibber McGee & Molly”. This is one of his 11 performances on “My Favorite Husband.”  On “I Love Lucy” he holds the distinction of being the only actor to play two recurring roles: Freddie Fillmore and Ralph Ramsey, as well as six one-off characters, including the frazzled train conductor in “The Great Train Robbery” (ILL S5;E5), a character he repeated on “The Lucy Show.”  Aside from Lucille Ball, Nelson is perhaps most associated with Jack Benny and was a fifteen-year regular on his radio and television programs.  

The roles of Miss Claremont, the Blabbermouth’s Mother, and the Secretary on the Intercom are uncredited and unidentified, but were likely played by the same performer. 

EPISODE

ANNOUNCER: “Now let’s look in on the Coopers. It’s early evening. Dinner is over. George is in the living room and Liz is helping Katie the Maid clear off the table.”

Liz is dreading talking to George about the right front fender on the car. When she finally goes into the living room she immediately confesses to the accident, even though he only wanted to talk to her about his life insurance policy.  He’s doubled his policy so that she’ll get $10,000 if he should die.

In “Lucy Goes On Strike” (HL S1;E16) in 1969, Harry takes out a $100,000 double indemnity insurance policy on Lucy’s life with himself as sole beneficiary, which Lucy accidentally overhears.

Liz doesn’t want to talk about such things. She refuses to think about a life without George.  She insists that there must be some dire reason for his doubling the policy. She even wonders if he’ll ever marry again should she die first.  He explains his new double indemnity policy to her. If he dies by accident she will get double than if he passes away naturally. 

In “The Audition” (ILL S1;E6), Ricky sends Lucy to his lawyers to see about his will, which sends Lucy into a panic about him dying - and who would go first!

LIZ: “Well, I’m going to miss you, but when you feel yourself going, try to make it an accident, huh?” 

Liz tells him not to worry about the money. She will get a job and take care of herself. George cannot even begin to think of Liz set loose in the workforce. She says that she is going to prove him wrong by getting a job right away. 

Later, Liz returns from a day job hunting and is exhausted.  She tells Katie she is determined to go to business school and learn shorthand. Their party line is tied up again by the “Brooklyn Blabbermouth” (Florence Halop). 

A party line was a local loop telephone circuit that is shared by multiple subscribers. Party lines provided no privacy and were frequently used as a source of entertainment and gossip. Objections about one party monopolizing a line were common and eavesdropping remained an ongoing concern. By the end of the 20th century, party lines had been phased out in the United States. Although we are never quite sure where Sheridan Falls is located, it would be unusual for a party line to exist outside its local area.  Lucy Ricardo contends (and brilliantly dispenses) with a party line in “Redecorating” (ILL S2;E8, above, also starring Florence Halop, left).

The “Brooklyn Blabbermouth” calls Liz “Miss Big Ears” and explains she is talking to her mother.  Liz is amazed she even has a mother. 

BLABBERMOUTH: “Whaddya think? Someone built me with an Erector Set?” LIZ: “No. I thought you came in a box of Cracker Jack.”

Erector Set was a brand of metal toy construction sets which were originally sold by the Mysto Manufacturing Company in 1913, a successor to wooden Lincoln Logs and a predecessor to plastic LEGO. This gag manages to get a very loud laugh and a round of applause from the “My Favorite Husband” studio audience. 

Cracker Jack is a molasses-flavored caramel-coated popcorn and peanut confection first patented in 1896. It is famous for being packaged with an inexpensive novelty item (a ‘prize’) inside the box. Food historians say it may be America’s first ‘junk food.’ It was often the punch line on “I Love Lucy.” 

Liz begs the Blabbermouth (whose name is Ruthie) to allow her to make a quick call. She is updating her mother about their radio serials since her radio is broken.

LIZ: “Do you have to use the telephone?” BLABBERMOUTH: “Whaddya expect me to use? A two-way wrist radio?” 

In 1946, Chester Gould’s ‘Dick Tracy’ comic strip introduced the idea that it’s detective hero could communicate through a two-way wrist radio. In 1948, that cartoon item was brought to reality, along with a myriad of other Dick Tracy-themed toys.  The “Dick Tracy” radio series ran from 1934 to 1948. It then lived on in television and films. 

The Blabbermouth ignores Liz’s request for telephone time and drones on about the plot of her mother’s favorite soap opera:

BLABBERMOUTH: “So mama, you remember how kindly Dr. Stevenson had to operate on Little Jimmy, who was run over by a truck, and he tried to save the life of blind Mr. Pat, who was on his way to get the doctor for grandma Smith, who broke her leg when she fell downstairs trying to help Mary Lou, who caught her hand in the ringer.”  MAMA: “Oh, yeah. Which show was that?” LIZ: “’Life Can Be Beautiful’!” 

After the distressing plot line described, it seems unlikely, but there really was a radio soap opera named “Life Can Be Beautiful.” it premiered September 5, 1938 on NBC and moved two months later to CBS, where it was heard from November 7, 1938 to June 21, 1946.  The final run was on NBC from 1946 to 1954.

Liz is furious and hangs up. She decides to go down to the secretarial school and enroll in person. 

LIZ: “If I wait for her to get off the phone I won’t need a job, I’ll be collecting Social Security.” 

The United States Social Security act was signed into law by President Franklin Roosevelt in 1935.  The nation’s first Social Security card was issued in 1936 with benefits first paid out in 1940. Social Security was sometimes used as a punch line on Lucille Ball’s television programs, especially concerning age.     

At the secretarial school Liz, and a gaggle of other women, are welcomed by Miss Claremont, the founder and head teacher. 

MISS CLAREMONT: “When you finish our course, each of you will be completely equipped to get along with your future boss, as we teach you shorthand, typing, filing and jujitsu.” 

Miss Claremont calls upon Liz to help demonstrate typing, but Liz says there are no letters on the keys. Miss Claremont explains that this is deliberate, in order to teach the touch system of typing.

Three weeks after this episode was broadcast, Lucille Ball began filming Miss Grant Takes Richmond, in which her character, Ellen Grant, went to the Woodruff Secretarial School and also had a great deal of trouble with her typewriter. The film was released later that year but Lucille Ball was seen typing in all of her television sitcoms. 

Liz attempts to type her name: 

LIZ: “Shake hands with Querty Uioop!” 

Three weeks later, Miss Claremont is chastising Liz for her non-traditional shorthand. It seems drawing a little cabbage is not satisfactory shorthand for money. 

LIZ: “That’s lettuce.” 

Liz brags that her typing has improved to 60 words a minute. Miss Claremont says it doesn’t count if you type the same word over and over. 

At home, Liz tries to romance George out his distracted mood. When he sees her school notebook he asks about her shorthand. She’s written her shopping list in shorthand. 

GEORGE: “What does this one mean: the number three, a dog, and a daisy?”  LIZ: “That’s to remind me to get three heads of cauliflower.”

GEORGE: “What’s this dilly: a telescope, a doctor, and a child?” LIZ: “I want to get something in the newspaper. That means watch out for the Examiner boy.” 

GEORGE: “Here’s one I can understand: a man throwing books in the air. Juggling the books, eh?” LIZ: “Just a little jug.”

GEORGE: “Now explain this last shorthand mystery to me: a circle, a ship, and laundry ticket.”  LIZ: “That’s the title of a phonograph record I want to buy - 'A Slow Boat To China'.”

"On A Slow Boat to China" is a popular song by Frank Loesser, published in 1948. The enigmatic title was a well-known phrase among poker players, referring to a person who lost steadily and handsomely. In October and November 1948, it was recorded by no less than five artists: Kay Kyser, Freddy Martin, Benny Goodman, Art Lund, and Larry Clinton. 

George is distracted because there’s a bank examiner at work and his secretary is out sick. Liz wants to get into the act - literally - by becoming his substitute secretary, but George says no way!  He has already arranged with the Claremont Secretarial School to send someone over. Once he goes to bed, Liz makes the decision to call the school and cancel the secretary - taking the job for herself!  

On “I Love Lucy” Lucy Ricardo went to elaborate lengths to work with her husband, sometimes even resorting to kidnapping!  

Later, Liz enters the living room wearing a black wig and horned rim spectacles. Katie, who doesn’t recognize her on first glance, reminds her to phone and cancel the other secretary. Naturally, Blabbermouth is on the party line, talking to her mother about soaps. She refers to Liz as “Nosey Rosie”. 

BLABBERMOUTH (to Mama): “Their son, the radio actor, comes in and wants to borrow ten bucks until television blows over...”

The idea that television was just a passing fad and not a serious threat to radio was common. The motion picture industry also felt threatened by television. In hindsight, they were correct. Had it not be for television, Lucille Ball would have remained Queen of B movies and you would not be reading this right now!

Liz angrily hangs up.

LIZ: “How do you like that; a filibuster!” KATIE: “Filibuster?” LIZ: “Yeah. I’ve had my fill and I’d like to bust her.” 

Liz decides to go down to the corner drug store to make the call. Katie reminds her to put on her dress first!

Later, Liz arrives at George’s office in disguise. 

[As the scene opens, the voice of a sectary on the intercom announces the arrival of the new secretary. In a rare flub, Richard Denning jumps her line, momentarily talking over her.]

Liz is flustered and doesn’t even know her own name. It seems she hasn’t yet made one up! 

GEORGE: “Well, how about sitting down?”  LIZ: “No. That sounds too much like an Indian. How about Jenny Smith? Yeah, Jenny Smith.” 

While in disguise, Liz decides to test George’s fidelity by flirting with him.  Unbeknownst to Liz, George is on to her.  He unmasks her pretty quickly. 

This test of marital fidelity was also tried by Lucy Ricardo while also wearing a black wig. Just like George, Ricky is on to her games and plays along for a bit. 

She breaks it to him that she’s canceled the other secretary. Since it is too late to get anyone else, he allows it.  He dictates some responses she needs to type for him to read to the Bank Examiner.  At the meeting with the Bank Examiner, Liz is still pretending to be Miss Smith. Mr. Allen, the Bank Examiner (Frank Nelson), asks George a question and George consults his notes - only to find a jumble of nonsensical typing. Liz was using the touch system and her fingers were on the wrong keys!  Since Liz is the only one who can read her original shorthand notes, she must answer for him. 

MR. ALLEN: “What’s the collateral for this ten million dollars?”  LIZ (reading): “Three heads of cauliflower”. 

MR. ALLEN: “When the amount of collateral is not commensurate with the size of the loan what is your procedure?” LIZ (reading): “Juggle the books.”

MR. ALLEN: “When Mr. Cooper found out there was to be an investigation, what instructions did he give the employees?” LIZ (reading): “Watch out for the Examiner, boy.” 

MR. ALLEN: “What would have done if you had gotten away with it?” LIZ (reading): “Get a slow boat to China.”

The exchange of transposed questions and inadvertently humorous answers will be explored again in “Lucy Gets Ricky on the Radio” (ILL S1;E32) which also featured Frank Nelson asking the questions! 

Later at home, George says that it took six hours to prove to Mr. Allen that Liz was responsible for the whole misunderstanding. Liz promises that she’ll stop looking for a job and call the secretarial school and quit. She picks up the phone to call but...

BLABBERMOUTH: “And the doctor said ‘Ma Perkins’ you’ll never walk again.”

“Ma Perkins” was a radio soap opera heard on NBC from 1933 to 1949 and on CBS from 1942 to 1960. Between 1942 and 1949, the show was heard simultaneously on both networks.

Liz insists that she told the phone company to change her party line. The Blabbermouth says that they did - they changed it to her mother’s!  Liz faints.  

END of EPISODE

[justlookfrightened]

Building a life

I got this prompt from a random generator: “As he flicked through the letters, a small, handwritten envelope caught his attention and his heart began to thump.” Warning that it begins after Jack and Bitty have broken up. Hopeful ending.

As he flicked through the letters, a small, handwritten envelope caught his attention and his heart began to thump.

Jack would recognize that scrawl anywhere. It was the handwriting that covered dozens of sticky notes: on a bag of cookies tucked into his duffel bag, on hundreds of sandwiches he ate before games, on the bathroom mirror on days that Bitty -- that Eric -- had to leave before Jack got up.

It was the handwriting on the letter -- not on a sticky note this time -- Jack found after Bitty left.

The letter had been centered at the place at the head of the dining room table. It was a modern thing, all glass and steel, and it went well with the condo Jack bought in Vegas.

The paper had looked out of place, off-white linen stationery that Jack knew Bitty’s -- Eric’s -- mother had given him when he told her he wasn’t moving back to Georgia, not after graduation, not ever.

“She said she expects me to write her real letters every now and then,” Bitty -- he had been Bitty then in Jack’s mind, and he wasn’t here to argue about it, so Jack would remember him as Bitty if he wanted -- Bitty said. “She still wants to text and call and Skype, but she says sometimes it’s easier to share your real feelings by writing them down on paper.”

At the time, thinking of the way Bitty inscribed his love in each one of those sticky notes, Jack had agreed. He never saw that paper again, until the one sheet was centered at his place at the dining room table.

Most people thought the kiss at center ice after the Falconers won the cup was a big moment in their relationship. It was, in a way. That was the moment that he and Eric declared to the world that they were a couple. He’d braced himself for the backlash, told himself he could withstand anything for Eric.

The joke was on him. Sure, not everybody was happy. But the team and the league and his agent made it so he never had to see the worst of it. The refs even started calling the anti-gay slurs that they had let go before; he lived in a well-insulated, comfortable, well-paid bubble.

But that was the start. A month later, Eric was asked not to come back to the bakery where he’d talked himself into a job, half marketing and half baking. She loved him, the owner said, and he was doing great, but his status as the man who kissed Jack Zimmermann on TV was drawing too much of the wrong kind of attention. She offered to pay him for the rest of the summer, but asked him not to come in.

Eric had been sad, but Jack tried to comfort him by saying that they could spend more time together before school and their respective seasons started. Eric gave him a weak smile, and agreed, and Jack had tried to make sure he had a good time for the rest of the summer.

It had seemed a foregone conclusion that Eric would move in when he graduated. Jack didn’t remember them ever talking about it, beyond the logistics of how and when Eric would get his stuff to Providence.

When Eric took up residence, Jack breathed a sigh of relief. Now things were settled, and he could concentrate on hockey. Eric started attending games with the wives and girlfriends, started introducing himself as Eric instead of Bitty, made sure Jack’s life ran as smoothly as possible. Everyone loved him, Jack most of all.

But when they didn’t even make it to the playoffs that year, two years after winning it all, the organization started talking about making changes.

Jack had a year left on his contract, and he was costing the team a lot of money, and maybe he had just finished his third year, but 30 was looming. He wasn’t exactly expecting it, but he wasn’t exactly shocked, either, when he got the call saying he was traded.

Eric, though. Eric was devastated. He hadn’t been able to find what he called a “career track” job, but he babysat for Marty and Thirdy’s kids, he baked for special events (and did get paid for it), he was a fixture at Falconers charity events.

The year that followed was not good for either of them. St. Louis reminded Jack of nothing so much as purgatory, gray and unwelcoming and uncomfortable. Eric reached out to the team, to the WAGs, and … well, he said that he couldn’t fault them for civility. But over the months, he spent less time reaching out to people and more time on his vlog.

Jack poured his heart and soul into his hockey, hoping to attract interest from other teams as soon as he entered free agency so they could leave this godawful place.

Then came a year in LA, where Eric seemed to fit in a little better.The golden California sun loved him, Jack thought, and when they got dragged to a party with people from TV and movies, Bitty mixed and mingled with abandon.

The trade to Vegas surprised them both, but Jack figured it would be fine. How different could it be?

It turned out the difference between the shore and the desert was vast indeed. The sun that caressed Eric in Los Angeles glared at him in Vegas and exposed all his flaws. Or maybe it just showed the flaws in everything.

Eric complained about the heat, about the tourists, about the excess of everything. He didn’t like the condo, he didn’t like the furniture (the furniture he bought, because it went with the style of the condo), he didn’t like the showgirls that hung around the team. He didn’t like Kent, but he had never liked Kent.

“He just wants to be friends, Eric,” Jack explained. “And he’s the captain. I have to spend time with him, and it would be good if you did, too.”

“No, thank you, Mr. Zimmermann,” Eric said. “You suit yourself, but I’ll keep myself busy.”

That was the week before Jack found the letter at his place at the dining room table.

“Dear Jack,

“I love you. I know that’s a strange way to start a Dear John letter, but it’s true. I love you more than anything, and I know you love me.

“But it’s not enough. I used to think it would be, that we would get married and adopt babies and grow old together. But I kind of think I’ve stopped growing at all, and I can’t take root here.

“This isn’t my place, and it’s not going to be. It’s Kent Parson’s, and I guess it’s yours now. I’m putting this letter at the head of our dining room table, but I can count the number of times we’ve eaten here together on one hand.

“I guess it’s a good thing we never did get married. Not being legally bound together makes this so much easier.

“I’m not angry, and I don’t blame you. I always knew hockey was your first love, and hockey is a jealous lover.

“Please don’t worry about me. I’m going to try to disappear for a while, try to figure out what I want and what I need before I start over. Don’t try to find me.

“I know this will hurt you, and I’m sorry.

“Love, Eric.”

Jack had wanted to howl, wanted to collapse, when he read it. He called Kent, who shrugged, and said, “Is that the first  time someone cut you off like that? Doesn’t feel great, does it?”

He called Shitty, whom he hadn’t talked to in six months, and was advised to follow Eric’s instructions.

“Brah, how much time were even spending together?” Shitty asked. “I’m pretty sure Bits was lonely.”

“Do you know where he is?” Jack asked, point-blank.

“Yes,” Shitty said. “But he asked me not to tell you. He told me to be there for you -- he said you’ll need someone -- but not to say where he is.”

“Is he alright?” Jack asked.

“Brah, he’s wrecked,” Shitty said. “Says he doesn’t know who he is without being attached to you. But he doesn’t want to just be an appendage.”

“Okay,” Jack said. “But could you tell him something for me?”

“Maybe,” Shitty said.

“Tell him that I’ll always love him, and I’m sorry I didn’t see what he needed,” Jack said. “Tell him that he’s it for me, and when he finds what he needs, if he still wants me, I’ll be there. Will you tell him?”

Shitty shrugged.

“Depends,” he said. “I’m not gonna lay a guilt trip on him.”

Now, a year and another Stanley Cup later, there was a small off-white envelope, addressed to him in Bitty’s -- Eric’s -- handwriting. The return address was in Providence, the address of the bakery that had asked Eric to leave and not come back.

“Dear Jack,

“Congrats on the Cup. Now I know why everyone was so excited about you and Kent playing together. Including Kent.

“Shitty chose the night you won to pass on your message. I think he wanted to wait until I knew you were alright.

“I’m alright, too. I don’t know if you realized, but I managed to save a lot of money while we were together -- well, a lot for me. Probably not for you. But it was enough to buy myself into a partnership in this bakery. The plan is to take the whole thing over in a few years when my partner retires. Business partner, I mean.

“I have friends and a job and a life, and I guess I could say I’m happy, and it wouldn’t be a lie. Thank you for giving the space I needed to do that. But I do miss you.

“If you want to get back in touch, you have my address.”

“Love, Bitty”

Jack put the letter down, and thought about buying some stationery to write back. Then he decided to take the more direct route. He called his agent and asked her to book him on the next flight to Providence.

He didn’t know exactly how this would work. But it would, somehow. And in a few years when he retired, his partner -- his life partner -- would be in Providence, not waiting for him, but building a life they could share.

[btsinspirationtakesme]

Warning: Unfinished prompt (+ unedited). 

I don’t want to leave this over the holidays, and didn’t have time to finish it fully so here’s an unfinished holiday prompt that’s been sitting around in my drafts for the past two weeks!

Prompt (unfinished): You have to plan the work Christmas party with the resident grinch, Min Yoongi. 

“No.” You said clearly to Namjoon, your boss. Whilst you were happy to plan this years festive celebration to end the year at work, you couldn’t imagine planning it with Mr. Grinch Mc Grinch Min Yoongi. Min Yoongi, you didn’t even know how he managed to end up being a lawyer. He only spoke to his stream of pretty secretaries and Hoseok from the Intellectual property team who was the complete opposite of him. 

“Y/N, I’m planning on putting the both of you on a major case and this type of team building is really important for success on this case.” Namjoon pinched the bridge of his nose, already tired of your defiance. 

“Can’t Taehyung help? He’s just as festive as me!” You protested. 

“Taehyung’s an overgrown child, you know I can’t put two people like you to plan this.” 

“What do you mean, 2 people like you?!” 

Namjoon raised his eyebrows, gesturing to your Christmas jumper that was under your blazer. 

“It’s December 1st.” He said, closing the case and getting up. You made a sour expression muttering how he was just as grinch as Yoongi under his breath. It’s not like you were wearing Christmas jumpers in June...but did Christmas jumpers even need a season? 

“I’m late for lunch, start planning ASAP. I’m bringing my girlfriend to the party this year, so don’t mess it up.” He said, not taking another word as he sped out of his spacious office. 

This was a nightmare. You loved everything Christmas and from what you knew, Min Yoongi was the anti-thesis of holiday cheer. You remembered how he rolled his eyes at the kids from the schools initiative that came in to sing Jingle Bells. Whilst everyone else on the office complex cheered the little kids on, Yoongi was sat in his office with headphones in. It didn’t stop there, he even rejected the sugar cookies that you baked and brought into work last year. No one, could resist your sugar cookies. 

Planning the work christmas party was supposed to be a great honour, only reserved for the most trusted employees. You knew Yoongi was a good lawyer, but couldn’t Namjoon pick someone who would actually help you pull off the best Christmas party ever? Clearly Namjoon trusted you a little too much. 

No, there had to be a way around this. Determined, you took it on yourself to march into Yoongi’s office, ignoring the look of disapproval that was shot your way by his new secretary. 

“Y/N. To what joy do I owe the pleasure?” Yoongi said, never looking up from his paper work as you barged in with your arms crossed. 

“The joy of being partnered with me for this years festive party.” You said. 

“Is that supposed to make me feel happy?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Yes.” 

“It’s Christmas.” You added. 

“And?”

“People want to remember how I pulled off the most amazing christmas party that Park and Jeon Co have ever seen.” 

Yoongi scoffed, going back to signing his documents. After the third page of constant signing you had enough. 

“Yoongi!” You protested. 

“Hmm?” He drawled, never taking his eyes off his papers. 

“Quit your deal for a second and listen to me!” 

“You think a multi billion dollar deal is going to stop and wait for your little commercialised office party?’ He asked, a sign of irritation on his face as he looked up at you from his work pausing. You had all of his attention. 

You were annoyed. Yoongi had evidently decided to take a page from law school at you, and you weren’t going to let it slide. 

“The duty of care in this case would fall on your personal too, considering the entire office wants a break at the end of this month.” You shot back, without flinching. 

Yoongi bluffed again. “Well, technically the client in question would”. You sighed internally, you weren’t about to make a mock legal case out of this situation. 

“Just meet me at Lombard’s next Thursday, 3.”  You sighed, Lombard’s was an infamous venue that you were planning to test out for the office party. Whilst you would have loved nothing better to do than to sit there and plan the most spectacular festive do yourself, you also had cases to plough through and couldn’t afford to put so much pressure on yourself.  

“Of course.” Yoongi said absentmindedly. That was code for a ‘sorry, I had cases to file’ or ‘I had court’ as an excuse. Too bad you were good at reading people, you’d send him reminders every day until he would turn up in explicit writing. No one was going to step on your party throwing parade. 

“Excellent.” You said smiling brightly. Yoongi, almost reacting to the unnatural situation to him, where he expected another whine or scream from you raised his eyes up at you suspiciously. There had to be something up, but Yoongi really didn’t have time for that, or you now. From what he knew of you, you were roughly in the same league as him when it came to years in practice, favourites of Namjoon from what he had heard but also complete polar opposites. He knew you from when you first interviewed at Park and Jeon Co, because he had been in the same interview. He knew you were one of the ones that left the office at 9 smiling, and he found that weird. He also knew you were an avid baker, bringing in all sorts of delicacies to work bake sales which were always mysteriously gone by mid morning because of an anonymous donor who bought all the pastries you bought in, Yoongi knew because he was the donor. 

He knew, well...everyone knew that you loved Christmas. Everything about the season, from the displays in store windows to the carols sung by kids had you starry eyed. Christmas lovers made Yoongi feel nauseous. He saw it as the most vile, commercialised holiday to exist on earth. People ended up fighting for no good reason, over money. Yoongi knew his job involved settling disputes over money, but to use a holiday as an opportunity to fight- over money? That was something he didn’t understand. 

You finally left him in peace and Yoongi went back to his work, thinking it was the end of you at least until next week. He knew very well how much office Christmas parties were a thing, around here but he was going to try his best to avoid it. You were Y/N, still his competition. He needed Namjoon to believe that he was the best junior lawyer in the office, and the more work he could do the better. 

_______________________________________________________________________

“Send these to Mr. Min’s Office please.” You said kindly to your office assistant, Brenda pointing to the wrapped up box on your desk. 

“Are you...two a thing or something?” She asked taking the box, probably curious about the third and last delivery of the week from your office to Yoongi’s. 

You nearly spit out your coffee. 

“Me, and Yoongi? Please.” Whilst Yoongi could certainly catch eyes, with his cool exterior and witted brain, he was the anti-thesis of your type. No emotions. 

“Namjoon’s got the both of us planning the Christmas party this year. I’m sending him festive reminders about the spirit of Christmas.” You said, and the latest gift to go his way was a set of baked mince pies straight from your grandmothers recipe book. Usually you only reserved baking those for special events, but you were calling out all stops in getting Yoongi on board. You also wrote a handwritten note, reminding him about the importance of loving others.

Brenda smiled, reading the handwritten note before saying she’d deliver it to Yoongi. 

__________________________________________________________________

“These are very good, spicy and sweet. She’s got some serious talent, should have been a baker really.” Jimin, Yoongi’s partner for a asset transfer case said in between bites from Y/N’s mini mince pies. 

“Who said you could have any?” Yoongi asked without looking away from his laptop screen. 

Jimin’s mouth hung open. 

“Um, well they were just placed there and-”. 

“Let’s just work on this file.” Yoongi cut him off. His eyes were trying to focus on the important file in front of him, but they kept flitting back to the note in front of the pies. He had read the others, and was mildly amused and was curious about this one. Seeing Jimin immersed in the file, he lost resolve and took the note opening it. In elegant script that belonged to you, he read the note. 

“Christmas will always be as long as we stand heart to heart and hand in hand”. 

Yoongi smiled. Dr Seuss, his favourite childhood author. He was taken back to earlier, more innocent memories with his parents. Playing in the backyard with his brother, waiting for the snow to settle, racing with the neighbours kids. Waiting for the food to be cooked and sneaking bites in. 

“What’s got you smiling?” Jimin asked, looking up to see a faint smile on Yoongi’s face. Yoongi quickly broke off the smile, scrunching the note in his hand and telling Jimin to read the third page of the file again, because he knew it had some curious facts and Yoongi needed to snap out of the trip down memory lane you had caused. 

Safe to say though, Yoongi was reminded of Lombard’s and he wasn’t going to give it a miss. 

______________________________________________________________________

Strangely enough when Thursday rolled around, it was Yoongi who was the first to arrive at the high end event venue. Dressed impeccably well in a tan coat, he attracted attention the moment he stepped in. Whilst he told the receptionist about meeting someone here, he was offered a seat waiting. The view from Lombard’s was breathtaking, even from the first floor which gave him a wide view of the cities cars zooming by against the backdrop of aesthetic buildings. 

Yoongi was about to call you to see where you were, considering you were 10 minutes late for the meeting. Seeing as you weren’t answering, Yoongi stared out the complex in frustration. That’s when he saw you. Of course, he thought. 

Of course you would be the type to stop and listen to Christmas carols. Scoffing at how ridiculous you were, a hot shot lawyer being the only one who stopped to listen to Christmas carols. Yoongi, curious decided to go out and catch a better picture. 

Upon walking to you across the road, he could see how happy you were. You were encouraging the children, cheering them on like you were their mother. Yoongi felt in unfamiliar territory. 

“Sing with us, sing with us!” He heard coming right up next to you, before the children took one look at Yoongi and piped down. Yeah, he knew he had that kind of effect. 

You looked at him. 

“I don’t have all day, I’ve already given up 10 minutes of my day. ” Yoongi said, impatiently. 

The children were looking at you with doe eyes, and they had insisted on you singing a christmas carol. You weren’t about to say no, their precious little cherub faces were staring at you. But you also had to plan an event. 

“Oppa here will sing with you! Noona just needs to sort some things out.” You said, pushing Yoongi to the crowd of children. Yoongi, usually composed looked at you were horror. 

“W-where are you going?” He asked, afraid of the little humans now gathering around him. 

“I have all the registration details in my purse, so I’ll just sign us in with the host today! I’ll come back for you in a few minutes, just do this Yoongi!” You said, pleading him with doe eyes yourself- a tactic you only reserved for desparate situations. 

“Yah!” Yoongi yelled, but it was no use. You were gone, and he had a bunch of little humans around him. 

“Ajusshi please sing!” They yelled at him. 

Yoongi did a double take. “Ajusshi will tell your mother you cheat on your maths tests, if you call Oppa Ajusshi one more time.” He said bluntly. 

They gasped. 

“Please sing with us, we’re raising money for children’s services throughout the holidays.” A little boy said in a weak voice, where any other adult would have melted. 

“I don’t sing.” Yoongi replied. 

“Aj- Oppa! Everyone can sing, just say AHHHH.” A little girl, who Yoongi figured was some sort of ring leader took control. 

“Ah.” Yoongi said bluntly. 

“Oppa!” The little girl protested, stomping her foot down. 

“Learn some respect, squeak.” Yoongi said, staring the little kid up and down. 

“Sing, please Oppa it’s for a good cause!” 

“Or just give money.” A boy, gleefully smiling said. 

“No. You’re all annoying.” Yoongi replied back. 

It was surprising how much Yoongi could bicker with a group of 9 year olds, but he could. Even more surprising was how he despite being a lawyer, couldn’t fight battles with kids. 

“I’m back! How was your sing along?” You asked cheerfully, coming back from signing in at Lombard’s. 

“Aju- Oppa won’t even sing! We really wanted to raise money with adults singing with us.” The little girl who took control confessed. You looked at Yoongi and sighed. 

“Can’t you even do this little thing, Yoongi?” You asked. 

“Why? This cash doesn’t even go to the children who really need it.” He said, blunt as ever. 

The children gasped. You were shocked. 

“I’m sorry kids, some people have no Christmas spirit inside of them.” You said, apologising for you ass hole of a co-worker. 

“Learn about capitalism while you can kids, it’ll save you a whole lot of stress.” He said, a final comment to the group of innocent caroling children. 

Whilst the children said their goodbyes and moved on, you decided to keep as much distance with Yoongi as possible. He couldn’t do a little favour for some kids, instead accusing the money they were raising of going into their own pockets. 

“Why are you so quiet?” He asked, after you both had finished going through the financial details of the venue inside Lombard’s with a host representative. 

“I’m just thinking...how could someone be such a Grinch? To little children at that?” You said, blunt as Yoongi for once. 

“Me? What’s so  bad about what I said?” He asked, like it was so casual.

“What isn’t bad? Yoongi they were just trying to raise some money to give to sick kids. 

“Do I look like I have the time to sing with them?”

“No, and that’s the point! That’s the point of Christmas, you do things for other people because it’s the right thing to do.” 

“Then why is it most people start a competition about who can out-do each other?” Yoongi retorted.

“That’s not really what Christmas is supposed to be about. The people who do that aren’t really in it for the spirit.” You said. “Most people, most families don’t.” 

[subcutaneous7]

The Way You Look Tonight [Grace/Frankie]

Frankie returns from Santa Fe when she and Grace receive a special honor for their business. Inspired by Jane Fonda’s dress at the 2017 Emmy Awards. You know the one (or rather, my interpretation of it. See author’s note). Hope you enjoy (: Here on A03.

***

“I really wish you’d let me take you to Patty’s,” Frankie guilt-tripped for the third time that morning, shuffling after Grace as they approached Lord & Taylor.

“Why, because you’re afraid of the revolving door here?”

“I’m not afraid,” Frankie insisted, hiking her purse up on her shoulder, stopping in her tracks to stretch her calves. “I just prefer establishments that don’t force me to vault myself through a human-sized blender before I can get my shop on.”

“Well, come on then.”

“I mean…okay. You go first.”

“Fine,” Grace sighed, quickly pushing past the spinning entrance. When she reached the other side, she turned back only to find Frankie still waiting, pressing her hand to her sternum as she watched the golden slats between the panes of glass go round and round, counting to herself “One, two, three, one, two, three,” like she was memorizing some sort of life-or-death dance routine. Grace felt her patience running thin, the usual let’s go, Frankie bubbling up inside, but she held it back this time, determined not to do that so much anymore. She pushed it down instead, crossing her arms, trying not to tap her foot as she waited.

“One, two, thr…good fucking Christ…okay, and I’m through,” Frankie exhaled loudly, wiping her brow as she stuck the landing, shaking out the adrenaline. “Alright. Show me where the fancy ladies buy their fancy lady clothes. I’m all yours.”

Grace bit the inside of her lip, blinking a few times before leading them past the men’s ties and the escalators, thankful they didn’t have to brave another “man-made death trap” as they found their way to the evening gown section of the department store.

A few weeks ago, when she received the invitation honoring them and other female entrepreneurs at the Southern California Women’s Business League’s Annual Gala, Grace almost tossed the invitation right in the trash. She and Frankie being honored for Vybrant had to be some kind of joke. Certainly an organization made up of mostly upper to middle class older, white, straight-laced women who were more prudish than she’d ever been had to have made a mistake. They’d done quite a bit of work at winning over that market online, where they could still remain somewhat anonymous. There was still plenty of work to do in person. And yet there it was, right on the mailer, confirmed on their website. They’d even pulled a photo of she and Frankie from the Vybrant media kit, making it clear this was in fact serious. They were receiving some kind of award, and as co-owner of the company, Grace didn’t think she should make the decision to attend or not on her own, even if her best friend and business partner had up and left a few weeks earlier.

Santa Fe was only temporary, Frankie promised. A trial run. A last hurrah, if anything. Grace knew that wasn’t true, not after the pep talk she’d given, not after she’d stupidly restored Frankie’s confidence and made her rethink breaking up with Jacob in the first place. So, the next week, Frankie packed up half her studio and went with him to visit his property there, simple as that.

Except the day she left, Grace could barely make it downstairs to say goodbye. She was nauseous all morning, but played it off like it was a stomach bug she’d picked up from the grandkids. She refused to get Frankie sick before taking the train far away from her doctors, so Grace held her breath dramatically while Frankie threw caution to the wind and wrapped her arms around her anyway. She settled for an air kiss to either side of Grace’s cheek and then hopped into the Lyft with Jacob.

Grace stood in the doorway, watching all her sanity, her safety and stability, the foundation she’d begrudgingly and inevitably built over the past two years get in the car and pull away. But before it could, Jacob looked back one last time from inside the car, made eye contact and slowly mouthed “Thank you.” It took all Grace had not to hurl her coffee mug at him, to stop the cheap Toyota in the driveway by chipping away just a little more at its deteriorating paint job. Instead, she went inside and back up to bed, where she stayed for the good remainder of the day.

That was a little over a month ago. Since then, she’d been determined to let Frankie do her thing, figure out if Santa Fe, and Jacob by extension, really was worth picking up her life and starting over somewhere else. Still, Grace thought it only fair to tell Frankie about the invitation to the gala, not as an excuse to get her to come back. No, definitely not that she told herself. It made sense to present her with all the options. As a business owner. As equals in their mutual success.

She waited until the very last minute to tell her, with only a few days left until the big event, thinking that might make things easier all around. Little did she know Frankie would be so excited, she’d book a flight that very night and be back in town two days later. That gave them just enough time to shop for dresses and make it to the party that evening.

“So, what should I be looking for?” Frankie asked. “What’s the dress code at one of these things anyway?”

“Black tie,” Grace repeated. “That’s why we’re here in the first place.”

“Yes, because you wouldn’t let me take you to Patty’s.”

“Because I don’t feel like showing up to a high society dinner in a mumu made from alpaca fur,” Grace rolled her eyes, running her fingers over the garments calling from their little islands in the center of the showroom.

“Now when have you ever seen me wear alpaca? I mean, outside the house? That I haven’t crocheted myself? You can’t find that at Patty’s. We’d have to go somewhere way out in the bowels of Encinitas for…”

“Can we just focus on what we’re here for, please?” Grace clipped, immediately cursing herself for the tone. She’d really resolved to do better. She had to.

“Okay, Ms. Priestly, then tell me what the latest trends are? What would look good on a woman with my hip-to-ass ratio? Got any hot tips?”

“Maybe don’t talk about your ass when we get there tonight,” Grace smirked, pulling out a navy blue number that might just work. “How about this?”

“Ugh, too boring,” Frankie whined.

“This isn’t backstage at a Rolling Stones concert, okay? This is a business affair.”

“I know that. But what do they always say? Business in the front, party in the back. Is that right? Speaking of which, check this out,” Frankie lifted a bright fuchsia gown off the rack, twirling it between them, mesmerized by the attached necklace, a strip of faux diamonds with emeralds dangling from the hanger. She swatted at it with her free hand, making it swing as it hovered over the extremely low neckline, or what Grace soon realized was the back of the dress. “Jesus, this would look great on you.”

“Me?” Grace balked, mouth agape. “I…yeah, maybe if I was forty years younger.”

“Uh uh, don’t even start with that ageist bull. You know you can rock any gown in this place, and this one’s got you written all over it.”

“Are you kidding me?” Grace continued to look for other options. “Since when have you ever known me to wear something that…that…”

“Unconventional? Exciting? Not that often, I must admit, but why let that stop you? The color’s perfect. It even matches our packaging, sorta. Come on, won’t you try it on for me? Pretty please?” Frankie batted her lashes.

“Why? So you can take a photo and put it up on Snapfish or whatever the hell you want to do with it?”

“Snapchat, Grace. Don’t play dumb, you know what it is. And no, I won’t take any pictures. I’ll be a perfect gentlewoman if you just try it on. And I’ll try on whatever you think would look good on me.”

“What is this, an impromptu say yes night?” Grace complained. “Because I didn’t agree to any…”

“No, no, not tonight. There’s too much pressure, I know it. I wouldn’t do that to you. Just trust me on this. This dress will make us stand out from the crowd, not that we need much help with that. But believe me, they’ll notice you. For all the right reasons.”

“And what about you? I’m not worried about me as much as I am about you. I’m not letting you walk into that place in clogs and a peasant skirt.”

“Oh don’t worry, we’ll find me something. But first, this. Come on, the suspense is killing me. If you hate it, we’ll move on to the next one. What do you say?”

Grace looked down at the dress again. It really was stunning, not something she ever would have picked out for herself, but maybe would have stopped to compliment on someone else if she saw it. Then again, there was no telling unless she tried it on. Frankie clearly saw something she didn’t. Far be it for her to cut down her vision so prematurely.

“If I can’t get it up over my hips, don’t even start to drag me over to the dessert table tonight.”

“Honey, there was no way you were gonna eat any of that anyway,” Frankie shook her head. “Let’s go.”

Read the rest on A03.

[thisdaynews]

Super Bowl 2020: Who is playing, who are the favourites and where will the game be won?

New Post has been published on https://thebiafrastar.com/super-bowl-2020-who-is-playing-who-are-the-favourites-and-where-will-the-game-be-won/

Super Bowl 2020: Who is playing, who are the favourites and where will the game be won?

Super Bowl 54 is the first to feature two teams with red as their primary uniform colour

Super Bowl 54 Venue:Hard Rock Stadium, MiamiDate:Sunday, 2 FebruaryTime:23:30 GMT Coverage:Live on BBC TV, Connected TV, iPlayer, BBC Sport website and mobile app from 23:00 GMT, plus live text coverage and in-play clips.

The streets of Miami are ringing with talk of $5,000 tickets, hype around arguably the best player in the game today and being in the sights of more than 150m people worldwide. Not to mention JLo and Shakira – yep, it’s Super Bowl time!

But who’s playing, who are the favourites and where will the game be won and lost?

Make sure you join BBC Sport on Sunday night and follow the fun…

How to watch the Super Bowl live on the BBC

Who’s playing?

In the red corner are the San Francisco 49ers, who won five Super Bowls in 13 years across the 1980s and early 90s. Think Jerry Rice, Joe Montana and Steve Young. Since then – a long wait.

It’s 25 years since their last Super Bowl win, coincidentally in the same stadium in Miami, with their last appearance at the end of season party ending in thrilling defeat at the hands of the Baltimore Ravens seven years ago.

In the, err, also red corner, are the Kansas City Chiefs, who make the Niners’ 25-year wait for glory seem like a mere blip. (Both sides normally wear red but as the designated ‘home’ team in Miami, it’s the Chiefs who will be in their usual colours, meaning the 49ers will have to wear white.)

It’s 50 years since the Chiefs’ sole Super Bowl win and their fans have understandably hit Miami in numbers. Will they be celebrating come full-time though? It’s a tough game to call this year.

Is this the biggest NFL legend you don’t know?

The QBS – Mahomes v Garoppolo

It’s reductive to bring the Super Bowl down to the two quarterbacks but the fact remains that they are often the key players on the night. After all, a quarterback has been named Superbowl MVP on 29 occasions from the previous 53 events.

In Patrick Mahomes, the Chiefs may well have the best QB in the business. Last year’s overall MVP has been in sparkling form again, slinging no-look passes and making plays with his left hand – and his feet too. Check out his superb touchdown in the play-off win against Tennessee.

Mahomes is still only 24 – he’ll be the fifth-youngest QB to start a Super Bowl, and would be the second-youngest to win it – and his 87 touchdown passes so far are the most for any player in their first 35 games. His baseball background makes him unorthodox and exciting to watch.

“His performances have been no surprise,” wide receiver Tyreek Hill said this week.

“I saw it on day one in training camp, he was making some crazy throws. In the rookie year most guys are happy just to be there, not him.

“He had the right mindset, right attitude, he wasn’t scared to make a throw. To be part of this offense is a blessing for me, my job is easy. I just go out there and run and the MVP QB finds me.”

Colin Kaepernick was quarterback last time the 49ers reached the Super Bowl but this year their hopes are pinned on Tom Brady’s former back-up with Hollywood leading man looks – Jimmy Garoppolo.

Expect a very different approach from Mahomes though – while the Chiefs’ playmaker throws the ball to all avenues, Jimmy G attempted just eight passes in the 37-20 win over the Green Bay Packers in the NFC Championship game, the fewest in a post-season game since Miami Dolphin Earl Morrell in Super Bowl VI (six).

Garoppolo and the Niners may rely again on their superb running game, but the quarterback is more than capable of taking the ball in his own hands if needs be.

“I’m still progressing, still learning and growing as a quarterback,” he said.

“There is a long way to go, I’m just getting started. A year ago I was learning how to run again [after a serious knee injury sustained against the Chiefs], it makes you realise how special this moment is. You don’t know if you’re ever going to be back again.”

Media playback is not supported on this device

BBC Sport challenges four amateur American Football players to try the training regime

Legacy or legendary? The coaches

The contrast between the franchises extends to the men under the headsets – the Chiefs are coached by Andy Reid, a 61-year-old veteran boasting nearly 30 years of NFL experience and with more NFL wins under his belt than any coach not to win a Super Bowl.

He coached the Eagles when they lost in 2004 and could become the fourth man to coach multiple Super Bowls without a win. Much of the media chatter around him in Miami this week has been about the ‘l word’ – legacy.

In the other corner is a man who knows all about that – Kyle Shanahan is just 40, in his third season as a head coach but son of a Super Bowl-winning coach in Mike Shanahan.

They could become the first father and son duo to win a Super Bowl, come Sunday – Kyle was a ballboy when the 49ers last won the trophy and has grown up around the game’s showpiece event.

“I always know how big a deal it is to get here,” he said. “You know how big a deal this is all around the world, it’s always been my favourite time of the year.

“I used to try and take a week off school, my parents wouldn’t let me but mentally I did.”

Cut, cut, cut – from rejection to redemption?

The 49ers hardly threw the ball against the Packers when they booked their place at this Super Bowl – they didn’t have to.

Raheem Mostert, a running back on his seventh NFL team in just five years, rampaged through the Packers, scoring four touchdowns and rushing for 220 yards, the second-most ever in an NFL post-season game.

The keen surfer, born in the shark-bite capital of the world just 260 miles north of Miami, is some character. He worked night shifts in Burger King after failing to make the grade and carries a list of the six teams who cut him to every game for motivation – not to mention the fact that he has a bible verse tattooed on his chest.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for God is with me.

“I honestly thought at the start of the season I would seize my moments to help the team win, I wasn’t expecting this breakout year,” he said.

“There are no ‘me’ guys on this team. We are like a locomotive, we all work as one. You will see that come Sunday.”

Mostert will have his grandfather in attendance on Sunday, his biggest fan who used to record all of his games onto VCR but will upgrade to a digital copy for his grandson’s Super Bowl show.

Mostert became the first player in NFL history to have 200+ rush yards and 4+ rush touchdowns in a play-off game

‘You have to have some mental stability’

Everywhere you look on Sunday there are weapons. Mostert is one man to watch, the Chiefs have star wide receiver Tyreek Hill, who’s so quick he wants to run in the Olympics, while tight ends Travis Kelce and George Kittle and Chiefs’ running back Damien Williams could all prove to be game winners. Not to even mention on the defensive stars on both sides.

And yet it could all come down to one kick.

Robbie Gould is the kicker for the 49ers, as individual a role as it can get in a team game but backed by 18 family members in Miami. Miss a few in a row and you lose your job. Boot the winning points on Sunday and you’re a hero.

“I played soccer in centre midfield and didn’t start playing NFL until my sophomore year at high school – now I’m at the Super Bowl,” he said.

“It’s hard, there are only 32 spots in the league as a kicker, you have to have some mental stability and not think that your next kick could be the end of your career.

“Trust your training, go out and have fun and be confident.”

Gould told me he didn’t care if he kicked the winning points or if the Niners won by 30 points, as long as they won.

I didn’t believe him. But somebody will be the hero by the end of play deep into the small hours of Monday morning, UK time. Make sure you watch.

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‘I’d run naked around the palace’ – Stevo the Madman grills Super Bowl stars

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[jakejames09]

No Rostam, no problem?  Vampire Weekend in the post-Rostam era

A group of high school kids starting a rock band is a great American past time.  Especially for those kids cut from the baseball team, THE great American past time.  The type of practice and commitment to collaboration it takes to become a good band or a good ball player is what makes both past times so appealing to the rest of us.  It was the love of the songwriting process first.  It was the smell of the fresh cut infield grass that got the particular individual in a single minded mission in trying to turn the past time he chose into art.  Famous songwriters and performers loved and obsessed over the music they were recording long before the record deal came the same way pro athletes dedicate their lives to training years before draft day.  That in itself, becoming successful at your chosen past time, turning it into art, and making a career out of it makes you all the more appealing to your inevitably growing fan base.  Aside from giving their specific audiences an emotional release, the love also comes from the acknowledgement that none of what you had was inherited, it was earned from tireless hours seeking perfection way before any dollars rolled in.  Sadly, most high school bands that scrape together money for studio time and college athletes who put it all on the line don’t ever come close to getting the recognition for their hard work.  They certainly don’t get the money.  This is not to say either activity is a waste of time.  Almost everyone comes out the other end of a band or sports team a better person.  Forming a band and being part of a team can build future team skills that can positively affect the participant in numerous aspects of life...but the money and fame escape him.

Fortunately for some already privileged Ivy League Scholars from New York the band casually started at a Columbia party turned into more than anyone could imagine on that alcohol fueled evening.  Ezra Koenig, Rostam Batmanglij, Chris Tomson, and Chris Baio formed Vampire Weekend.  (Excuse my oxford comma).  From the very beginning it was clear that Vampire Weekend wasn’t just another band.  Within 18 months of their inception, Vampire Weekend made a name for themselves on the indie scene.  While some critics spent time whining about how much the band sounded like Paul Simon’s Graceland, most heard it as I did.  An indie record at heart with accessible pop ideas that weren’t carried by synths and predictable filler but rather tribal African drum rhythms, live instrumentation, and brilliant, witty, self deprecating wordplay.  This was highlighted on A-Punk, a self-referenial gem about New York City that ironically catapulted them to international stardom.  The two members of the band benefitting the most from the increased acclaim and exposure was Ezra Koenig, lead singer and lyricist and Rostam Batmanglij, who was the multi-instrumentalist often credited with being the brainchild behind the bands entire sound. 

“Rostam and I are the two main songwriters” Ezra said in an interview early in the bands career.  With Contra, the 2010 follow up to their self titled debut that mythology continued to grow.  The two of them became masters at employing subtle differences in their recording styles.  Instead of using familiar echo sounds and various chamber effects that previously yielded glorious and simplistic pop harmonies, Rostam opted for a more digital sound.  Contra did this while also staying true to the bands organic DIY style.  From a critics standpoint this time around, it was more of a Talking Heads 80s experiment than a Paul Simon one.  While Ezra remained a capable songwriter, he felt the liberty to have more fun with his vocal palette.  On Contra, the band expanded the vocal possibilities.  There was gibberish wailing on the standout track ‘White Sky’ and even distorted speed rap on the song ‘California English’; both came off as successful sonic endeavors.  Rostam mixed Ezra’s vocals beautifully, knowing exactly when to let his feral tendencies run wild and when to harness them into gorgeous vocal textures.  The winning team was making their pastime a thing of true art.  A tandem now responsible for writing two of the most significant indie records of the new era.  It seemed like a partnership that would yield classic tunes for years on end.

It initially seemed this way on the bands third LP Modern Vampires of the City.  A level of maturation some detractors never thought the band could reach was on full display on MVOC.  Rostam’s production (this time assisted by pop guru and future collaborator Ariel Rechtshaid) was darker and more experimental without losing a shred of accessibility.  Ezra’s lyrics were far more introspective, dealing with themes of faith, mortality, and Dying Young.  ‘Ya Hey’ is still the most ambitious undertaking of the bands career.  Coming off as an eerie baroque pop anthem marching its way through a catchy uneven time signature with huge heart and a singalong melody made the song a special moment in the storied bands catalog.  ‘Unbelievers’ is another one.  One the surface the song seems like your average guitar pop bop but Ezra’s lyrics about mortality and the seriousness behind it add an appropriate darkness that gives an upbeat song a human feel.  A feeling amplified and perfected on Hannah Hunt and Step.  The two best tracks in the bands discography.  The band hit full stride.  Headlined major festivals.  Won a Grammy.  All while remaining true to their sound they were able to solidify themselves as serious artists with a singular vision.  No longer prep school boys who create decent music by taking the best pieces of their influences and mashing them together, this was the sound of a band in total control of their past time. 

It went unsaid, but it was understood, and well deserved, that Vampire Weekend would be enjoying a hiatus after the success and laborious touring schedule surrounding Modern Vampires.  Even so, after the Grammy, the critical acclaim, the incredible sales numbers, something between the two main songwriters wasn’t right.  So even though the latest release solidified the bands immediate legacy Rostam decided to leave the band indefinitely.

“My identity as a songwriter + producer needs to stand on its own.” Read Rostam’s public statement.  The news instantly polarized fans.  Many, like myself, criticized Rostam for leaving a good thing, while coming off extremely pretentious and ungrateful.  The man is lucky enough to be cooped up in the most successful songwriting duo in modern day rock music, why would he feel unfulfilled achieving greatness in the setting of a great band? Why must his work stand outside the efforts of collaboration? Who does he think he is?

It was known that Rostam, the multi instrumental production guru was always responsible for the sound of Vampire Weekend, while Ezra supplied the lyrics.  The parting seemed amicable, but all in all it left the future of the band in a precarious situation.  What was Vampire Weekend without Rostam? That very question went years unanswered. 

But in the years since Rostam left Vampire Weekend, he has had limited success in finding any traction as a solo artist.  His best effort thus far has been a collaborative record with Hamilton Leithauser of the Walkmen.  A brilliant record full of the same elegant strings, organic drum sections, and blissful pianos that were similar to the ones that came to define the sound of Vampire Weekend.  Even so, it was still a behind the scenes production victory to add to his resume.  As a front man, Rostam hasn’t achieved the same success.  His debut album Half-Light, released in 2017 came and went without much of a peep from anyone.  Indie circles overlooked it, it didn’t have a repeatable single, the vocals were shaky at best, and it passed before the world knew it existed.  I think even I only gave it one listen.  Since then, Rostam has not been able to find his voice.  Whether or not he can be an important voice in pop music remains to be seen, the talent behind the boards is there but it’s time for him to realize what he can and cannot do.  It takes a necessary self awareness to know ones limitations in any job, in any past time.  A contact hitter who plays his role by getting on base doesn’t swing for the fences.  I believe Rostam’s ego and infatuation with being the front man took him away from his true self a bit. 

As Rostam struggled to find footing without the band, and as the years went on it seemed like Ezra was in the same boat.  Years went on without a whisper of any new music and people started to wonder that same question: What is Vampire Weekend without Ezra? and more pressingly: Can Ezra write a Vampire Weekend album without him?  The answer is both yes and no.

Enlisting in pop guru and Max Martin collaborator, Ezra and co. brought back Ariel Rechtshaid to give the band help in the production department.  Ezra also used his smarts to understand the best way to go about marketing the new album.  A record far more freewheeling than previous releases, Ezra became more eclectic than ever, and shared a plethora of wide-ranging singles way before the album was scheduled to drop. 

The 18 track record is noted for its fusion of nonchalant broad-ranging grooves and witty pop songs about love, summer days, locking hate at the gate, and a few morbid things as well.  Ariel creates a template of sunshine for Ezra to shine under, and the results are often satisfying.  While this new album won’t go down in history as an instant classic like its predecessor, it’s still hard to consider Father of the Bride to be anything but a monumental success.  Quality songs exist all through this thing that contain some of Ezra’s best wordplay.  An arena tour on the way, good new songs to play, and first week sales eclipsing 140k.  Say what you want about sales in today’s musical landscape, it’s impressive when a group of guys who still play guitars can sell 140k first week.  It’s special.  You would have a hard time listing bands that released their debut record after 2000 than can sell over 100k first week and sell out Madison Square Garden.  What Vampire Weekend has is special.  

Father of the Bride is the soundtrack to many good summer nights.  I’ve already heard cuts out on the streets of Asbury Park NJ, backyard cookouts, and New York City bars alike.  Can jam, car rides with the windows down, and poolside convos, Father of the Bride is a jubilant summer record that also has a thing or two you can learn from. 

It’s a wonder to me, knowing what he knows now, if Rostam would make the same decision all over again.  Joining a band is an American past time.  Playing in a band that influences the masses on a grand stage is special and should be cherished and appreciated as such.  Leaving such a beautiful situation seems hard to believe.  Ezra has proved himself to be just fine without him.  Rostam has time to blossom.  He is still young and has shown shades of greatness (the production on Frank Ocean’s Ivy is otherworldly) but that once again, is a highlight in music production.  Rostam, if you have a voice worth hearing, now is the time. 

[dlamp-dictator]

Allen Rambles About Persona 5

AKA Allen’s Ramblings XVI, but... well, you guys know by now how I do things when tagging fandoms and everything. Anyway, I’ve played about 30 hours of Persona 5 and wanted to give my thoughts so far.

Now, I have been waiting to get my hands on Persona 5 for years. This game was suppose to come out years ago and we in the States finally have it. I gotta’ say, I was salivating when my preorder came in on time for once. The artbook, the CD, the Morgana Plushie, it just felt so unreal to have it all in my hands... but enough gushing and onto my thoughts. I’ll try to keep spoilers vague, but keep in might I’m at the third main dungeon by now. I know the Persona series is really big on not spoiling story-related matters, so I’ll be polite and tried my best to keep things general. Like when I talked about Tales of Berseria I’ll be breaking this down into the good points and not so good points, but first I need to talk about...

The Aesthetics

Oh Lord the aesthetics of this game. The cell-shaping, the red motif, the slickness of movement, the music. Everything just feels so smooth. Hell, this is gonna’ be a new tag for the blog now these are aesthetics are so good. I can’t just stick this one category and call it done, I need give this its own header to break down all I love about how this game looks and feels.

Relateable Topics

I have to say, I’m surprise how much I connected with a lot of the events happening in the game. This isn’t a story about accepting death, this isn’t a story about solving a murder, this is a story about kids trying to fix what they believe is a broken, corrupt world, and dammit you can just relate to that. Before you even begin the game it tells you none of the events in it are related to real life or real people, but Atlus is lying through their goddamn teeth if they think I couldn’t see this stuff happening for real if it hasn’t already. I won’t say what exactly happens, but every scandal that’s uncovered, every problem that’s seen, every case that’s been discussed in this game you can actually see happening in real life. Hell, I’m sure you could look online and see some articles talking about this stuff even here in the US. I won’t spoil anything yet, but... just trust me on this on.

Character Designs

The character designs look fantastic. I love everyone so far in both casual and Phantom Thief attire, with Ryuji and Morgana having my favorite designs. And I have to say, I’m rather surprised how much I like these two specifically, but I’ll get more into that later. Despite having a large amount of black for most characters, the designs really pop out. I’d say that’s due to a lot of the backgrounds being brightly colored, but still. I can’t wait to see other party members and how they look in game. The art book only does so much.

The Artbook

Not much to say here save for making a pun. The Aesthetics art book is... just a really good artbook with a lot of sketches, concept designs, and references in it. It’ll totally help for if I want to do fan art of these characters. And unlike SOME GAMES *cough*trailsofsteel*cough* this game doesn’t have blatant spoilers in their artbook and interviews. So yeah, points for the artbook, real nice.

THE MUSIC

I. Love. This. Soundtrack. I’m not music elitist, but the one thing that just makes me go nuts for any song is solid, audible bass, jazz, and brass. It’s why Persona has always had good music to me, and this entire soundtrack just hits every note in just the right way. This soundtrack is so good I could just... just... [RETRACTED] all over these songs. My favorites so far as Last Surprise, Layer Cake, and Rivers in the Desert... not that I’m far enough in the game to hear that last one, but... y’know.

Okay, so that’s it for the aesthetic, now onto the good points about the game as a whole.

The Good

The Intro

Thankfully, the intro of this game is not hours of hand-holding like in Persona 4. You are right into the action, and even after the intro stuff you still get a bit of freedom to move a little. I think only after a second play-through will tell how long your hand is held and how much freedom you truly have in the beginning, but for now I say this is leagues better than P4.

The Voice Cast

I haven’t heard the Japanese dub since I’ve always been dubs-over-subs, but the voice cast in English sounds great so far. My favorite so far has actually been Morgana and Ryuji, characters I didn’t think I’d like as much as I do right now. Ryuji is just the right mix punk kid and emotional softy that makes me really warm up to him, and Morgana’s cute, but confident sounding voice goes well with her personality. Major props to Cassandra Morris for voicing her. Wait a second... didn’t she do Asahina in Dangan Ronpa? No wonder I like her performance. And special shout out to Jamieson Price as Sojiro. I may not have gotten to hear him as Tager in BBCF, but at least I have hear him in this game. And while I’m talking about the voice cast I must admit that I have mixed feelings about Igor’s voice actor, I know why his voice was changed, but... I still prefer Dan Woren. Hopefully I’ll just get use to it.

Smoother/Faster Combat

The combat has definitely improved in both animations and overall feel. On the fly Persona swapping, lightning-fast menus, flashy as hell attack animations, this game has really improved in terms of quality with it’s combat. As someone playing this game since P3, the combat in that game was fine for turn based, but with this game I’m going to have some higher exceptions for future Turn Based RPG games, and the next SMT game especially in terms how combat feels.

Improved Social Links

The Confidant system is sooo much better than the other two games. Non-Party member social links finally have a higher purpose than just giving you better Personas during fusions. It feels so good to know that my allies don’t just help me with my fusions, but in the actual story as well. From selling you health items and weapons, increasing non-active party members EXP growth, improving the Phantom Thieves PR (and making dungeons easier to traverse through), and so on. It really feels like every person gives me an edge as a rebel of society. And the stories they’re telling so far have me interested. Again, spoilers, so I won’t go into detail, but just trust me on this one.

The Not So Good

Like with my Tales of Beresia Rambling, there are still some issues/critiques I have of this game as a fan. Again, I’ve played Persona 3, Persona 4, Persona 4 Arena, Ultimax, and small handful of SMT games outside of the Persona series so these might just be nitpicks, but I still think they’re worth saying. And for the folks that have seen my Berseria rambling, these points are going to be much longer and more in depth by comparison. So... let’s get started with that.

Demon conversations are still hit-or-miss with me. I like the idea of convince my enemies to my side, when it comes to fusing and hunting for the right Persona in those dungeons it can be a huge pain.

Money management is still balls hard in this game. I’d recommend demanding money every chance it comes along if you already have that particular persona and you don’t need the extra EXP. Trust me, it’ll disappear in a flash.

The early game is brutal. Story dungeon take longer that in past games, and with the small SP pool you have it’s gonna’ take several days to beat it. If you’re struggling through the first non-scripted major boss and even the boss of the dungeon, that’s normal as far as I’m concerned.

Social stats are back and they’re as annoying as ever. It was fine in P3 because their were just three and only effect you near mid/late-game. It was annoying in Persona 4 because they controlled not only social links, but better paying jobs as well (and again, money management is balls hard), as well as prevent certain dialogue options (which SUCKED). And again in this game certain dialogue options can’t be chosen if you don’t have the right stat level. This starts happening in the early game when all your stats are low, practically taunting you about your low level. That’s drives me up a goddamn wall. It doesn’t help that it took me until the second dungeon fully grasp which places upped which state and how. It took 15 hours to realize this shit... goddamn...

After playing Devil Survivor 2, seeing physical attacks that cast from HP for you not apply to your opponent annoys me to no end. This makes physical enemies very unfair and it’s part of what makes the early game so hellish. Those guys take out half your health and are still good to spam that crap.

The dungeons are a daytime option only, and that’s something that’s annoyed me since playing Persona 4. Persona 3 had this done best by having the dungeons at nighttime access, making balancing social life, grinding social stats, and grinding levels so much easier. I was hoping that’d be the case in P5 since “student by day, thief by night” was the tagline, but apparent it should be changed to “student by day, thief by the afternoon, too tired to grind social stats by night.”

As of the third dungeon, I feel like the game is really pushing me to clear the Palaces when I’m not prepared to. All my party members keep pushing me to hurry and clear them, and while that makes since in the story, it makes doing the actual prep work really hard. Also, the third dungeon/arc feels really hand-holding until the dungeon unlocked, which annoyed me a little.

Though not directly effecting the game, the whole Atlus-Streaming thing just... leaves a bad taste in my mouth. It’s a shame that those without access to the right system can’t enjoy the game with their favorite streamers/let’s players.

Yusuke’s inclusion and joining the party could had been written better, and that’s all I’ll say on the matter since I’m trying not to spoil the game past the first dungeon. Message me if you want the details.

The localization is... not good. I’m seeing a lot of “Mr., Mrs., and Miss” thrown in along with Japanese honorifics and it’s a bit emersion-breaking. A lot of the pronunciations could had been done better too. I still stand by the voice acting being good, but the directing and instructions feel a little... off. Maybe that’s because the game is based in Tokyo, which might be a little more culturally mixed, but compared to the other two games this feels messy.

A real minor nitpick, but I still have mixed feelings about the dungeon lair/prison theme of the new Velvet Room. I mean I get it, but it feels a little forced and heavy-handed to me.

So yeah, a few nitpicks aside, I’ve really been enjoying this game. If anyone has any advice for getting through the rest of the game or just some tips in general that don’t spoil the game too much please reblog and add them here. Personally, I’d wait for a guide to social linking and stat grinding before getting this game, but as a Persona fan, I say this game is good so far. Hopefully it gets better as I continue to play it.

[lifeisaboxofcereal]

No clue who this is addressed to, nor what the purpose of this is/will be, but feeling exasperated that nothing helps me feel better, how about I give venting via writing a shot.

Here’s the deal. I’ve been involved with this guy for about 5+ years. Lets call him owl. Its the first thing I looked at in my apartment trying to come up with a code name instead of publishing this guys name who any of you reading most likely already know his name via any of my fb posts in the last 5 years. I met him my freshman year at UD. Ballroom dance team. To this day I dont even know if I can explain what drew me to him. He was cocky and confident, cheeky, and cute. He danced. He was a Marine. He seemed so out of my league as a dorky, naive, super awkward freshman that didn’t know anything about college culture. I learned quick that a few dates does not mean we’re dating, and that he was a man of many many ladies. I learned quick that he did not really take my feelings into consideration but I would put them aside and accept any interactions or affections that were given. We had a connection and I had fun with him. I just wanted to go with it.

I went with it for all four years of college. Always waiting for when he’d finally be ready to commit. Or see how much I do for him. How I’m always there, good times and bad.  Even when he really really pisses me off. Waiting for him to see that I was his best friend the way I saw that he was mine. Waiting for him to stop messing up with me, appreciate me, cherish me, want to show me off.

I’m gonna be honest, that never came. Not in college. I didnt date anyone else. I didnt get involved with anyone else more than a few months, and those involvements were usually the product of me and owl being in one of our phases where we were on the outs and he was not talking to me. but once we were good again sure enough I’d lose interest in whoever it was that I was entertaining in that time. I regret a lot of that. Not giving others real chances, because they actually deserved them and wanted them.

But with him it was always like a game, like a chase, never ending, suspenseful, thrilling, exciting, passionate, never a boring moment. Always keeping me guessing. I hated it but I loved it. He didn’t respect me, and he didnt respect my feelings, but still I stuck around. It’s only now that I’m seeing that I had slowly been losing respect for myself, so what incentive would he have for respecting me when I was being a hypocrite? Our dynamic was one of push and pull. There were the times he’d pull me in and never want to let me go, and then without warning he would push me away and leave me feeling abandoned and confused as to what I did to deserve it.

He hurt me a lot. Never physically. Never. Never forced himself on me, I never once was physically scared of him. But emotionally. Every year there was at least one incident. One big fight that seemed like the be all end all. That would leave me in my dorm crying with my roommate wondering how he could be so cold and harsh towards me after everything I’ve done and everything we’ve shared. Always wishing that he would miss me and realize everything and change. It was a clear cycle, and I’m not stupid, I was very cognizant of it, but idk, i liked it and i was still waiting. What I had with him was so different and special I couldnt let it, or him, go.

Last year, October, we had a big falling out. That was really the be all end all. I knew because, and as stupid as this is or sounds, in all of our fights we had never unfriended each other on facebook or done something as extreme or defining as that. We always left doors open. But with this, he burned all bridges. He made a facebook status about me. He wanted all of my things out of his place. He 100% snapped. It was over, he broke things off and our 4 years of being together but not really together, was over.

I spent the next 5 months in therapy and trying to keep busy with friends and classes and trying to find myself again. So much of my identity was dependent on him and associated with him. All of my memories included him. Even dance reminded me of him. I was so lost. And missed him so much but had motivation to work on myself and for once be comfortable and happy with being on my own. I remember one particular session with my therapist in which she told me that if I still have hope that we will reconcile one day, I need to completely let go of what we had. Put it to rest, let it go, mourn it, and leave it in the past, because there was too much to be fixed and too much wreckage to salvage anything. That if we were to ever reconcile it would have to be a completely clean slate. Free of the past transgressions. So that night I blocked him. I blocked his number, his facebook. his snapchat, everything. It was hard and scary but I did it in hopes that thats what I needed to do even if temporarily and symbolically leave our 4 years together in the past.

2 days later was Valentines day. I was supposed to go to a devils game with a friend and she cancelled last minute because she was sick. I reached out to everyone in my phone to try to find someone to go with me because I did not want to spend valentines day in bed thinking about him and missing him. Nobody could come to the game. I was offered a shift at work and almost took it but someone hopped on it before I could. So i was left with chinese food and netflix. I let myself cry and be upset, and feel the hurt remembering our past valentines days together. And then my mom came to my room and let me know that jake was coming to the house. shit i said his name. whatever. she let me know that he asked permission to come and clear the air, and that he would be there in 40 minutes.

He was there in 30, and we sat down, with my best friend as a third party, and we talked for 5 hours. About everything. Anything. All the grievances we had with each other. What we realized. What we regretted. And he told me that he loved me. That he needs me in his life, and said all of the things that I had waited 4 years for. I kept thinking about how right my therapist was, about letting go and letting them come to you, about starting fresh, about leaving the past in the past.

The months that followed were the epitome of a honeymoon phase. My god. we were finally doing things right. He was showing me off, appreciating me, never wanted to let me go, it was everything. I dont think I’ve ever been so happy. We were so in love with each other, so excited, couldn’t wait more than 2 weeks to visit each other again. We moved in together. We made an apartment a home together. We started new jobs and set goals. We motivated each other, supported each other, and wholeheartedly loved each other. I finally felt like I was in a functional and healthy relationship. I felt so loved every single day and I finally understood what people meant about that unbelievable feeling of being in love with someone who was just as in love with you. We did and learned so much together. We had setbacks, and tiffs here and there, but we worked through each one.

Theres a lot in between then and now, but I don’t think it’s worth getting into or explaining. All I can say is that I don’t know how we went from that, to this. Not speaking. Not looking at each other. An apartment that was once so full of love and laughter now only has silence and tension.

He has problems. And to be honest. I’ve always known that but never wanted to accept it. I have problems too because I am very compliant. The relationship became emotionally abusive. I am mentally abused. And he has left me hating myself when I dont even know who I am. I don’t regret staying with him. I don’t regret getting back with him last year. I dont regret anything. All i’ve done is love and give as much as I possibly can. Im not angry. More than anything, i’m disappointed.

I thought he was it. Actually. I know he is. If he were to get the help that he needed. But in a normal relationship, when there is an issue, you don’t feel that your partner becomes a completely different person. That’s not normal. And right now, I don’t know who he is. For the past 2 weeks I have been wishing I could just snap him out of it. Grab him by the shoulders and shake him. Show him a photo of us and see him come back to me. I have written heartfelt letter after heartfelt letter. Debating giving one to him in hopes of softening him up and coming out of this haze of anger and hatred hes in right now. But thats not normal. I shouldnt have to snap him out of anything. I shouldnt have to wish he’d come back. I shouldnt have to plead and beg for him to remember our good times to soften up. None of it is normal. He dissociates. And when i look at his eyes hes not there. I know this sounds dramatic but it’s true. It’s scary, it’s hurtful, it worries me, but it’s true. He completely detaches, and it’s as though he never knew me. As though we never shared a single experience together. And nothing I do can bring him out of that place. As I write this, I feel like I’m writing or remembering someone that died. And thats because essentially, that is how I feel. the man i spent the past year with loving and learning and GROWING died. He’s gone and I dont know why or where he is. And i’m left with this fraction of myself that doesn’t know how to cope with any of it.

He’s not good for me. Its not worth it. I deserve better. I’m going to be so much happier without him. These are all words that an infinite number of friends or loved ones can say to me but the fucked up part of all of it is that I don’t want better, I want him. I know that I will never be able to fully let him go. It’ll never be fully over. And i will always love him. I care about him more than I care about myself. Which is a big part of the problem.

I don’t know where to go from here. Or how to cope. I don’t know what to do. All i know is that I miss him with every fiber of my being. I can’t open my phone gallery because the last photos I took were with him and I can’t look at them. I made a new facebook to run away from it all. Nothing I do makes me feel better. Friends. Work. Gym. Margaritas. Movies. Its all a distraction from missing the person who made me smile ear to ear every morning, and exhale peacefully every night. Even now as I write this, hes walking around the apartment and its as though Im a ghost. He doesnt see me. Acknowledge me. Notice me. And while I used to see him and feel overwhelming love, I now just feel hated. Complete hatred. As though I ruined his life, when all I ever tried to do was make his life better.

So friends, that is my story. I don’t know how it’ll end but I can tell you for sure that I will never be able to hate him or be angry with him. And I will always love him. What comes next for me, I have no idea. I thought writing all of this out would maybe help me have some sort of epiphany but no epiphany came.Sometimes I wish I could have my mind wiped clean of all of this so I wouldnt have to deal with this pain. But I cant. So this is going to suck. For a long while. I’m going to be upset for a long while. I hope at the end of this I can find myself and be a version of myself that has value and pride. I want to be the Bren that loves herself, respects herself, values herself, and is proud of herself. The bren that marched on washington for womens rights in the world needs to march for her rights in her life. More than anything though, I hope he finds himself. I hope he does what he needs to do. I only ever wanted him to be happy. Even if it was at my expense.

[rolandfontana]

Five Tips for Protecting Your IP from China

I was recently interviewed by Tyler LeMasters on The Far East Podcast on IP protection in China. We had a great chat and I encourage you to listen to it and check out some of the other content produced by this DC-based Spokanite.

My conversation with Tyler gave me a chance to share my Five Favorite IP Tips for China (and for pretty much all other countries as well). Actually time constraints limited me to only four of these on the podcast, but I’ve added the fifth one below.

1. Register Your IP—in China

This could well be the Carthago delenda est of the China Law Blog—and for good reason. First, if your trademarks and patents are not registered in China (it’s a bit different with copyrights), there may be very little, if anything, you (or we) can do to protect them against counterfeiting or other infringement. This is because trademarks and patents not registered in China are not protected under Chinese law, except in the case of a “well-known” trademark, which you almost certainly do not have.

There are other risks as well. As we put it last year in China Trademark Theft. It’s Baaaaaack in a Big Way:

There are actually a number of people in China who make a living (and a good one at that) by usurping foreign trademarks and then selling a license to that trademark to the original, foreign, license holder. Once one comes to grip with the fact that China, like most of the rest of the world is a “first to file” country, one can understand how easy this usurpation is, and also, how easy it is to prevent it.

A few years ago I represented a European company that ended up having to pay more than $200,000 to buy its “own” trademark so as not to miss out on the Chinese market entirely. But even if you don’t plan to sell your products in China, failing to register your IP can create major problems., as we explained:

The fact that you are manufacturing your product in China just for export does not in any way minimize the need for you to protect your trademark. Once someone registers “your” trademark in China, they have the power to stop your goods at the border and prevent them from leaving China. That’s right, they can stop your goods from leaving because they own the trademark, not you.

Given that the costs associated with registering trademarks and other IP in China are modest, failing to do so could well be one of the worst possible business decisions your company could make.

Oh, and don’t forget to record your IP with Customs once you register it. This is essentially your way of letting Customs know that you are facing a counterfeiting problem and asking them to keep an eye out for fakes.

  2. Engage with local law enforcement

There are two aspects to working with local law enforcement. First, you should give law enforcement a helping hand by conducting your own investigations and providing them with actionable intelligence. Second, if law enforcement requests assistance, provide it.

This second point might seem an obvious one but supporting IP enforcement activity can become onerous for a company, especially if it doesn’t have dedicated brand protection staff. If the quantity of goods seized during a raid is low, it may not seem worthwhile to pursue the matter. However, if you don’t help local law enforcement officers close their cases, they will conclude that you and your brand are not worth the trouble and they will be a lot less likely to help you the next time around.

  3. Sue the Infringer/Counterfeiter 

Having worked on more than my fair share of IP litigation matters in Chinese courts, I can confirm that those can be an extremely frustrating experience. In my interview with Tyler, I talked about what should have been a slam-dunk case where the judge refused to award damages out of concern for the financial situation of the pregnant defendant. This reflects the fact that in reaching their decisions, Chinese judges often consider the “legal effect, social effect and political effect.”  In this particular case, though it would have made legal sense to compel the defendant to return some of the money she had earned from . selling counterfeits, the Chinese judge decided that favoring a U.S. based multinational over a pregnant local resident would not be a good social and political look.

Thankfully, cases such as this tend to be the exception not the norm and I have handled many cases in which Chinese courts handed down decisions in favor of my foreign clients, imposing considerable damage awards. I also have had many cases where the threat of an IP lawsuit has led the Chinese counter-party to pay money in settlement to my foreign clients.  Admittedly though, China damage awards and settlements seem low to foreign companies, even when they understood the amounts are a big deal for the average Chinese citizen.

Your willingness to go to court in China is nonetheless important to show that you mean business, not just to would-be counterfeiters, but also to law enforcement. When I worked in China, I did a lot of anti-counterfeiting work for Premier League teams and after a successful warehouse or shop raid, we would usually find jerseys and other gear for teams other than our clients. Most of the time, the police would leave that other stuff behind—they knew which teams would play ball (pun intended) and which wouldn’t. Pursuing counterfeiters also sends a powerful message to your customers, showing them that you truly believe your products are valuable.

  4. Protect your house

What this means is that you should do all you can to identify and thwart internal threats from within your own organization and from your own suppliers and distributers. As I mentioned in How to Move Your Manufacturing from China AND Protect Your IP:

[I]n the face of a reduced ability to rely on the legal system for protection, savvy businesses need to do all they can to protect themselves—and protection starts at home. Through preventive efforts at their manufacturing facilities, businesses can go a long way towards minimizing IP and related risks. What sort of prevention are we talking about? Obviously, you want to guard against unauthorized (i.e., third shift) production by your suppliers. You will also want to prevent sensitive prototypes from being photographed or extracted, as well as digital files with design specs from being leaked. You will also want to exercise strict controls over any materials that could help criminals improve the quality of their counterfeits, such as genuine accessories.

Clear, comprehensive guidelines are a cornerstone of product security in China and everywhere else. If you have experienced professionals on your payroll, they can draft those guidelines, but you should not wing it…

Having established guidelines, the next step is to ensure staff actually comply with them. Though some factories do a pretty job monitoring themselves, most don’t. This is why you need specialized compliance audits, by professionals who understand the underlying risks…

And oftentimes most importantly, your contractual framework with your supplier must include product-security considerations, such as your right to audit facilities and provide remedies for IP-related breaches. You almost certainly will also need country-specific NNN Agreements and Manufacturing Contracts for each new country in which you are having your products made. See China NNN ≠ Foreign NDA and Overseas Manufacturing Contracts (OEM, CM and ODM). You may also need a Product Development Agreement, a Product Ownership Agreement, and a contract protecting your molds and tooling. With all the tariffs and duties coming (and even occasionally going), it also makes sense to have your manufacturing contract delineate who will ultimately be responsible for paying what.

5. Educate the consumer

The final tip is the one companies typically find to be the most gratifying. Tell your story to your customers. Tell them why they should be getting the genuine article and not some cheap knockoff. Be creative in this regard. Take some of those seized samples you get from your raids and put them on display at your store. Let customers see, touch, and smell the low-grade pirated crap that’s out there. If you’re selling makeup, show them a video of the clandestine labs where they make counterfeit lipstick and mascara—and contrast it with your own, clean facilities. Talk about the risks.

One of our China lawyers loves to tell the following story, which graphically illustrates why buying the real thing matters:

This lawyer was in Shanghai and his favorite uncle was also in Shanghai and he met his uncle and a couple of his friends at a restaurant there. One of the friends talked about having bought a set of “Ping” golf clubs for only $350. The lawyer told this person that there was no way the clubs were real Pings. The friend responded by saying that “even if they are not, I still got a fine set of clubs for only $350.” Two weeks later the uncle called our lawyer to tell him that he’d been golfing with his friend and on the second hole, the friend hit a ball off the tee using his fake Ping driver and the driver head flew off in his backswing and just missed hitting someone in the head who was walking behind the tee at the time. The friend right then and there walked to the clubhouse, tossed his entire set of fake Pings in the garbage and bought a real set of Pings right then and there. 

It also usually makes sense for you to provide information to allow the public to identify fakes through the use of security features and/or by pointing out common flaws found on counterfeits.

Five Tips for Protecting Your IP from China syndicated from https://immigrationattorneyto.wordpress.com/

[papermoonloveslucy]

THE SURPRISE PARTY

March 10, 1951

“The Surprise Party” is episode #122 of the radio series MY FAVORITE HUSBAND broadcast on March 10, 1951.

Synopsis ~ Iris lets slip that one of Liz's friends is throwing a party Saturday night, and Liz and George aren't invited. But which friend is it?

“My Favorite Husband” was based on the novels Mr. and Mrs. Cugat, the Record of a Happy Marriage (1940) and Outside Eden (1945) by Isabel Scott Rorick, which had previously been adapted into the film Are Husbands Necessary? (1942). “My Favorite Husband” was first broadcast as a one-time special on July 5, 1948. Lucille Ball and Lee Bowman played the characters of Liz and George Cugat, and a positive response to this broadcast convinced CBS to launch “My Favorite Husband” as a series. Bowman was not available Richard Denning was cast as George. On January 7, 1949, confusion with bandleader Xavier Cugat prompted a name change to Cooper. On this same episode Jell-O became its sponsor. A total of 124 episodes of the program aired from July 23, 1948 through March 31, 1951. After about ten episodes had been written, writers Fox and Davenport departed and three new writers took over – Bob Carroll, Jr., Madelyn Pugh, and head writer/producer Jess Oppenheimer. In March 1949 Gale Gordon took over the existing role of George’s boss, Rudolph Atterbury, and Bea Benaderet was added as his wife, Iris. CBS brought “My Favorite Husband” to television in 1953, starring Joan Caulfield and Barry Nelson as Liz and George Cooper. The television version ran two-and-a-half seasons, from September 1953 through December 1955, running concurrently with “I Love Lucy.” It was produced live at CBS Television City for most of its run, until switching to film for a truncated third season filmed (ironically) at Desilu and recasting Liz Cooper with Vanessa Brown.

MAIN CAST

Lucille Ball (Liz Cooper) was born on August 6, 1911 in Jamestown, New York. She began her screen career in 1933 and was known in Hollywood as ‘Queen of the B’s’ due to her many appearances in ‘B’ movies. With Richard Denning, she starred in a radio program titled “My Favorite Husband” which eventually led to the creation of “I Love Lucy,” a television situation comedy in which she co-starred with her real-life husband, Latin bandleader Desi Arnaz. The program was phenomenally successful, allowing the couple to purchase what was once RKO Studios, re-naming it Desilu. When the show ended in 1960 (in an hour-long format known as “The Lucy-Desi Comedy Hour”) so did Lucy and Desi’s marriage. In 1962, hoping to keep Desilu financially solvent, Lucy returned to the sitcom format with “The Lucy Show,” which lasted six seasons. She followed that with a similar sitcom “Here’s Lucy” co-starring with her real-life children, Lucie and Desi Jr., as well as Gale Gordon, who had joined the cast of “The Lucy Show” during season two. Before her death in 1989, Lucy made one more attempt at a sitcom with “Life With Lucy,” also with Gordon.

Richard Denning (George Cooper) was born Louis Albert Heindrich Denninger Jr., in Poughkeepsie, New York. When he was 18 months old, his family moved to Los Angeles. Plans called for him to take over his father’s garment manufacturing business, but he developed an interest in acting. Denning enlisted in the US Navy during World War II. He is best known for his  roles in various science fiction and horror films of the 1950s. Although he teamed with Lucille Ball on radio in “My Favorite Husband,” the two never acted together on screen. While “I Love Lucy” was on the air, he was seen on another CBS TV series, “Mr. & Mrs. North.” From 1968 to 1980 he played the Governor on “Hawaii 5-0″, his final role. He died in 1998 at age 84.

Gale Gordon (Rudolph Atterbury) had worked with Lucille Ball on “The Wonder Show” on radio in 1938. One of the front-runners to play Fred Mertz on “I Love Lucy,” he eventually played Alvin Littlefield, owner of the Tropicana, during two episodes in 1952. After playing a Judge in an episode of “The Lucy-Desi Comedy Hour” in 1958, he would re-team with Lucy for all of her subsequent series’: as Theodore J. Mooney in ”The Lucy Show”; as Harrison Otis Carter in “Here’s Lucy”; and as Curtis McGibbon on “Life with Lucy.” Gordon died in 1995 at the age of 89.

Bea Benadaret (Iris Atterbury) was considered the front-runner to be cast as Ethel Mertz but when “I Love Lucy” was ready to start production she was already playing a similar role on TV’s “The George Burns and Gracie Allen Show” so Vivian Vance was cast instead. On “I Love Lucy” she was cast as Lucy Ricardo’s spinster neighbor, Miss Lewis, in “Lucy Plays Cupid” (ILL S1;E15) in early 1952. Later, she was a success in her own show, “Petticoat Junction” as Shady Rest Hotel proprietress Kate Bradley. She starred in the series until her death in 1968.

Ruth Perrott (Katie, the Maid) is not heard in this episode. 

Bob LeMond (Announcer) also served as the announcer for the pilot episode of “I Love Lucy”. When the long-lost pilot was finally discovered in 1990, a few moments of the opening narration were damaged and lost, so LeMond – fifty years later – recreated the narration for the CBS special and subsequent DVD release.

GUEST CAST

Elvia Allman (Sally Roman) was born on September 19, 1904 in Enochville, North Carolina. She started her performing career on radio in the 1920s, as both a storyteller and singer. Allman’s first episode of “I Love Lucy” is also one of the most memorable in TV history: “Job Switching” (ILL S2;E1) in September 1952.  She played the strident foreman of Kramer’s Candy Kitchen. Allman returned to the show as one of Minnie Finch’s neighbors in “Fan Magazine Interview” (ILL S3;E17) in 1954. Changing gears once again she played prim magazine reporter Nancy Graham in “The Homecoming” (ILL S5;E6) in 1955. She made two appearances on “The Lucy–Desi Comedy Hour“ - first as Ida Thompson, Westfield’s PTA director in “The Celebrity Next Door” (LDCH S1;E2) and as Milton Berle’s secretary when “Milton Berle Hides Out at the Ricardos” (LDCH S3;E1) in 1959. On “The Lucy Show” she was seen in “Lucy Bags a Bargain” (TLS S4;E17) and in “Lucy The Babysitter” (TLS S5;E16).  Allman died on March 6, 1992, aged 87.

Shirley Mitchell (Fran Lewis) was born in Toledo, Ohio, on November 4, 1919. She started her acting career on radio in Chicago but soon moved to Los Angeles. Mitchell was a regular on radio in series such as “Fibber McGee and Molly” and “The Great Gildersleeve”. She became friends with Lucille Ball in the late 1940s when she was featured in four episodes of “My Favorite Husband.” Mitchell reunited with Lucille Ball on “I Love Lucy” playing Marion Strong, a member of the Wednesday Afternoon Fine Arts League in “Lucy and Ethel Buy the Same Dress” (ILL S3;E3), “Lucy Tells the Truth” (ILL S3;E6) and “Lucy’s Club Dance” (ILL S3;E25).  Shirley Mitchell died of heart failure on November 11, 2013, seven days after her 94th birthday.

Fran’s husband is named Tom, although we do not meet him. 

EPISODE

ANNOUNCER: “As we look in on the Coopers  tonight, George and Liz have just finished dinner.”

Liz remarks on this being the first time they’ve stayed home in three weeks.

LIZ: “The way we’ve been going you’d think the government was going to ration fun.”  

Rationing in the US was introduced in stages during World War II. The Office of Price Administration (OPA) warned Americans of potential gasoline, steel, aluminum, and electricity shortages. Most rationing restrictions ended in August 1945 except for sugar rationing, which lasted until 1947 in some parts of the country.

The telephone rings and George tells Liz they should just let it ring, lest someone tempt them out of their homes. 

LIZ: “Maybe it’s ‘Sing It Again’ and we’re losing a jackpot.” 

"Sing It Again” first aired on CBS radio in September 1948. In several markets it was aired right after “My Favorite Husband,” which was true of this particular date (March 10, 1951). It worked like this: a song would be performed, then sung again (hence the show's title) with new lyrics, describing a famous celebrity. If the contestant (or a listener, phoned at random) solved the puzzle, they would have the opportunity to try to identify the ‘Phantom Voice’ from clues from the preceding weeks. The jackpot was huge for its time: $25,000 in cash and prizes. In 1950, it became one of the few programs ever to be simulcast on both radio and television.

George tells her to grit her teeth, but Liz can’t bear it and picks up the phone. It is only Iris. She is calling to ask Liz what she will wear to the party on Saturday night. Before Liz can ask “what party” Iris realizes Liz may not have been invited. Iris quickly hangs up before explaining.   Liz wonders who it is giving the party and why they weren’t invited. She doesn’t want to go, but wants to know who doesn’t like them enough not to invite them to a party. She dissolves into tears. George doesn’t care, but Liz can’t sleep until she knows who it is.  

Liz calls Sally Roman (Elvia Allman), who, Liz says, is invited everywhere. She will undoubtedly spill the beans. Sally says she is going to the party on Saturday night, but doesn’t say where or who is throwing it. 

SALLY: “Well, she’s your best friend!” 

Liz wonders if they are talking about the same party to get her to say a name - but she doesn’t bite. Liz calls Iris back but Iris hangs up!  Liz won’t quit - she continues dialing as the scene fades out. 

After 17 phone calls, Liz still hasn’t found out who is throwing the party. She tells George to put on his coat; they are going to confront Iris - despite it being ten o’clock at night! Liz says she can’t sleep until she finds out where it is they’re not going. 

End of Part One

A public service announcement talks about community spirit in Western Germany, where US GIs built a playground for a children’s home in a town heavily bombed during the war. “We are Americans. As we go, so goes America.” 

Part Two

ANNOUNCER: “As we look in on the Coopers once again, we find them on their way over to the Atterburys. The Atterburys, not knowing that they are going to have the pleasure of late evening visitors, have already gone to bed.”

Rudolph and Iris are snoring loudly in bed when the phone rings. Rudolph picks it up but no one is there. He realizes it is the front doorbell.  Rudolph reluctantly goes to answer the door - without his bedroom slippers - stubbing his toe.   Liz and George are at the door. Liz wants to ask Iris something, so Rudolph begrudgingly invites them in. Iris comes down to see who it is. Liz bluntly asks her who is having the party on Saturday night. Iris says she can’t tell her.  

LIZ: “Who? Who? Who?” RUDOLPH: “George, will you take your owl and go home?”

A variation on this owl joke was used on the very first episode of “I Love Lucy,” “The Girls Want To Go To a Nightclub” (ILL S1;E1):

ETHEL MERTZ (to Lucy, who is dialing the phone): “Who are you calling? Who, who, who?” LUCY RICARDO: “Quiet, you sound like an owl.”

And repeated in a new context on season one of “The Lucy Show,” “Lucy Buys a Sheep” (TLS S1;E5):

VIV BAGLEY: “Who got dinner last night? Who did the laundry last week? Who did the marketing yesterday? Who? Who?” LUCY CARMICHAEL: “Apparently some crabby blonde owl.”  

Liz gets Iris to tell her that the ‘friend’ lives three blocks away from the Coopers. Liz is satisfied that she can figure it out from that clue. Rudolph falls asleep immediately - standing up! Next morning, Liz’s breakfast is getting cold. She can’t stop thinking about the mystery party-thrower. She has come to the conclusion that it must be Fran Lewis. Now she has to call Fran and wangle an invitation. She doesn’t want to go - just to get invited - so she can decline! 

On the telephone, Fran (Shirley Mitchell) says she was just about to call Liz - about her missing cat. Liz invites her over to her house on Saturday night, knowing she’d have no choice but to invite her to the party Liz thinks she’s giving. But no - Fran accept her invitation. Liz hangs up. 

GEORGE: “Well? Did you find out who is giving the party?” LIZ: “Yes. We are! My little plan backfired!” 

At the bank, Mr. Atterbury tells George that he only got three hours sleep last night due to heart-burn, which she attributes to Liz. Rudolph confides in George that the girls in the club are giving the party on Saturday night - in Liz’s honor. The party is being given at Marge Van Tassel’s on Saturday night. George calls Liz and tells her the truth about the party and that it is in her honor. 

Later, Liz is talking to Fran on the phone. She tells Fran that her mother fell down and broke her leg so they have to break their plans for Saturday night.  That takes care of that! Now all she has to do is wait for Marge’s invitation! 

GEORGE: “Sometimes you amaze me.” LIZ: “Sometimes I amaze myself!” 

End of Episode