#so? might as well start messing with the correct order of letters too.

[kazutora-lover]

Ugh, the way I've found out that some of my links are messed up again? If you guys stumble upon some that are not working properly anymore, please tell me and I'll fix them to the best of my abilities!

Thanksies ~

[unorthodox-oblivion]

Namaste, Losties!

With the help of @obsessivedaydreamer, I started Lost Game Nights last year, in November. It used to be just us and our closest mutuals, and we’d have a blast every time. Since then, we’ve expanded a little bit. But we’ve had a few additions to the fandom since, and it feels like a good time to go even further. 

For the sake of maintaining anonymity, we use an app/website called Wire (which works on Android, iOS, and browser) and, while it requests your email for sign-up, you’re not required to share any information beyond a username — which might as well be your Tumblr username or anything else of your choice — to participate. 

Usually, we go through three games in one game night: Gartic, Gartic Phone (which, I promise, is different), and Stopots. We are open to new online games, as long as they are free, easily playable — or explainable — and follow Wire in their anonymity level. 

Our Games

Gartic is a simple draw-and-guess game. The game sorts us into a drawing order and we each take turns choosing a word out of the two options it gives us to draw for the group. You get points as people guess your drawing correctly and if you guess correctly, too, when you’re one of the people guessing, but the order of those correct guesses can mean more or fewer points, depending on how quick you are!

Gartic phone is a cross between Gartic and Telephone. To start, each player writes a sentence. Then, those sentences are randomly distributed across the players, and each person draws a picture inspired by the sentence prompt. When time is done, those drawings are then distributed among the players and each person describes what they see. Then those descriptions go out and you draw a picture and so on. At the end, you get to see each stage of those initial sentences compiled into albums. There are also a few other modes that follow a similar idea.

(drawings and prompts are allowed — and encouraged, but that’s up to you! — to be LOST related)

Stopots is what most people know as Scattergories. There are categories and we all get the same letter at the same time and we have to fill said categories with words starting with the selected letter. Whoever fills every category first gets to press the stop button and end the round for everyone, otherwise, fill as much as you can before the timer runs out! At the end of each round, you get to see all the answers and vote if they are valid or not. 

Some general rules and guidelines

RESPECT IS A MUST. While this is Tumblr and we don’t usually have to worry about this, I feel inclined to reinstate that we expect you to be respectful of your fellow fandom-mates and competitors. Racism, homophobia, transphobia, etc., as well as any kind of insulting name-calling, will not be tolerated and you’ll be banned from future game nights. 

While the games listed are COMPETITIVE games, it is expected that the main goal is to have fun with friends. Winning is fun, but so is getting to spend time together and getting to have a communal activity. It’s important, for the overall experience for everyone, if the games are played as expected. Don’t be a sore loser and mess with the game just because it’s not going as you wished it to. 

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

love letter, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Jeon Jungkook gets love letters shoved in his mailbox and under his apartment door all the damn time. You, too, get love letters shoved in your mailbox and under your door. All the time. It could be a sweet gesture, but this is the twenty-first century. Love letters aren't all they're cracked up to be. 

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; short graphic descriptions of sex acts; smut (fem reader, a very intense make-out session including some wild tongue and too much saliva, nipple play, a bit of m-receiving oral, cowgirl, handjob); non-idol!BTS – technically university, blond, softsub!Jungkook x working, softdom!reader; slightly desperate and needy JK

yes, yes, it’s MTV Unplugged ‘Telepathy’JK

--

"I'm so tired of people thinking they have a chance with me."

Was the exasperated declaration as you backed up into your apartment, only to turn around and witness Jeon Jungkook dumping a waterfall of colorful envelopes from his giant black backpack onto your hardwood floor. 

"At least remove your shoes before you start flaunting how hot you are," you replied dryly.

Jungkook rolled his eyes as he kicked off his large white sneakers. "Look at this shit! It's relentless! It's annoying! I just want to live my life!"

You vaguely recalled Jungkook being excited about his first love letter upon reaching university, and then the second, the third... and now you were staring at pile number five hundred on your doormat. "I don't know, put a sign on your door? 'Please stop, the answer is no?'"

Jungkook winced. "I can't do that. How many hearts am I going to break?"

"Uh, I dunno, you already broke half the campus by existing in general."

He bonked you on the head lightly with his denim jacket sleeve. "I have not. I've only slept with a couple people and that was supposed to be no strings attached."

You shrugged. "People can't understand that. Especially women."

He puffed his cheeks and stepped over the pile. You noticed the small stickers and nice handwriting on the colorful pastel paper. You almost felt bad, seeing all the effort put into them.

"At least they're cute. I only get torn notebook pages with scribbles."

"Stop lying. You get girls' letters too," Jungkook grumbled. "Can I borrow your computer? One of my professors assigned an online quiz and the internet at my place is down, again."

"You gotta move," you commented, kneeling down to collect the mess Jungkook made. You noticed Jungkook flit his eyes about before throwing up his hands and bending down to help you. 

"I'm trying to get out of the lease, but I have a couple more months left," he complained childishly.

"What about your other friends? Can't you go bother them?"

Jungkook frowned, sticking out his lower lip. The tiny mole underneath winked at you. "You hate me now or something?"

You laughed, standing up with a stacked pile of confessions to Jeon Jungkook. "No, I'm just curious as to why you always come here."

He shoved the rest in your arms, his pile slightly messier than yours. "You live the closest and you're usually home. Plus, you have two computers."

"A laptop and a desktop," you corrected. "Don't you have a laptop?"

"It's easier to borrow yours."

"Lazy."

Jungkook ignored your remark and ticked his silvery-blond head further into the apartment. "Can I borrow it or not?"

You laughed. "Of course. Laptop's on the bed."

He turned and followed the hallway to your bedroom. "Same password?" he yelled, not looking back.

"Obviously."

"Why is it my birth date?" he shouted.

"Because, one, no one will guess it, and, two, you're a dumbass and always forget it."

"I do not!"

"How many times did you ask when the password was Klingon?"

"I don't know your nerdy shit!"

"Do your fucking assignment," you belted down the hall. 

Jungkook stuck his head out of your bedroom door and scrunched his nose to make a hideous face at you, holding your gunmetal-colored laptop. You rolled your eyes as he disappeared again. This crackhead. You let out a sigh, walking past the acrylic painting of a blue sky with pink-purple clouds hanging in your living room, flicking through at all the letters addressed to Jungkook.

Surprisingly, you knew what he felt like. With you, it started with inviting one guy over to your place, sucking his dick, and then suddenly a letter appeared. Well, letter was putting it nicely. Dirty napkin with words scrawled with smeared ballpoint pen shoved under your door, explicitly asking for more. Then another, wanting it. Then another, begging for it. You ignored them. At some point, you invited a girl over, ate her out, and then the colorful envelopes started appearing, with cute stickers and neat handwriting.

Mmmhmm.

Why did Jungkook bring them here anyway? To brag? For you to peruse? You spread them out them on your coffee table and tore one open. Read it. Simple confession of love, no name. You were kind of jealous. Jungkook always got nicer ones than you did. Something about being a sexually uninhibited woman seemed to translate to others that you were down to fuck anyone, anytime, anything. You tossed the letter aside, ripped open a folded card closed with lilac tape. Another, 'I love you, please go out with me', no name. Toss. And you opened another one, reading out loud. 

"I want to cram all one hundred and seventy-nine centimeters of you into me?”

Uh.

Huh.

Still no name.

Cute peach stationery though. 

Was it a euphemism? Symbolic? Thinly veiled code? Hm. In any case, this was more along the lines of shamelessness you encountered yourself. 

By all conventions, Jeon Jungkook was attractive as fuck. Pretty pink lips, big brown eyes, manly sharp jawline. He kept his hair on the longer side, around ear length, now silvery-blond compared to the usual black. You heard he dyed it a couple times, but now it had since faded to the original blond.

Oh, yeah, also he had nice hands and a body to die for. 

You could see why Jungkook got all these love letters. You? Well, similar reasons, except less muscles. Also, yours weren't really love letters. More like vulgar remarks on the backs of grubby receipts. 

Probably just as heartfelt.

The only reason you knew of Jungkook was because you were friends with one of his close friends. Alright, maybe you sucked his friend's dick. More than once. But anyway, not the point. The point was that the topic of love letters came up one night when everyone was hanging out and you voiced your predicament. It was the summer before Jungkook entered university. He had burst out laughing, thinking it was a hilarious situation.

"Haha, that would never happen to me!"

Jokes on you, Jungkook, karma's a bitch. 

You thought about moving, but the location was close to your work and the internet service was great here. At least you always recycled the paper. What were you supposed to do? Keep an album of Starbucks napkins of people asking if your tongue was good or not?

You opened another envelope addressed to 'sweet, adorable Jungkookie'.

Their words, not yours. 

"Shove your dick down my throat and make me gag? Smiley face?"

Well, that's a contrast. 

Jungkook didn't start contacting you on his own until the letters started coming and then they didn’t stop coming, flooding his mailbox and underneath his door, overwhelming and confusing him. He didn't think he would get much attention, although perhaps it might be your fault, since you seemed to have set the precedence for this type of thing at this particular university. There was at least one person in every year that got this treatment, and it all started with one dirty napkin with smeared ink. Rumor caught on and then bam! It became a thing. 

So, yeah. 

Maybe kind of your fault.

You shouldn't have told so many people about that napkin. 

You fished out a pizza receipt from the pile, inspecting it. You couldn't find anything out of the ordinary. Then you noticed it had Jungkook's phone number and an order of three pizzas. Not a confession, just trash from Jungkook's backpack. Did he really eat three pizzas? Hopefully not by himself and in one sitting. You noticed the timestamp. Mmm, three in the morning. Okay. Maybe he did eat three pizzas by himself in one sitting. 

You filed through the rest, removing trash from the recyclable paper. Paused when you found a scrap of paper that said, "Put your dick in my ass." You recognized this curvy, narrow handwriting, slightly heavy-handed. Same person wrote you the same note this week. 

This was why you didn't take the messages too seriously.

You saw a particularly thick purple envelope and picked it up, tearing it open. It was several pages, with tiny, crammed handwriting on paper with cute bunnies on it. Several pages detailing straight up porn with Jungkook as the leading role. 

You almost burst out laughing. 

Who the fuck would write this?

And send it to him?

Not you, that's for fucking sure. 

Still, it wasn't the worst thing you've ever read. Had some spelling mistakes and poor grammar. Instant turn-off. Needed a good proofread. You settled onto your brown leather couch, highly entertained as you read it. Then you actually burst out laughing, because said person wanted Jungkook to lift them and fuck them at the same time and that kinda shit just wasn't possible. You would know, because you’ve tried. It sounded good, but in practice, the dick ended up falling out pretty quickly if the pussy was any sort of wet.

If you weren’t wet, then, eh, not sure why you're fucking. 

"What is so fucking funny?" Jungkook grumbled, poking his head around the corner, still holding your laptop. 

You held up the sheets of bunny-printed paper, still laughing. "Someone sent you their written erotica and you're the star!"

Jungkook grimaced. "Oh yeah, that person. They write something new every week. It's weird." He frowned. "I try to take it out so you don't have to read that shit. I must have missed it."

"It's hilarious," you chuckled. "You should publish them into a book."

"You know I can't do that," Jungkook sighed, putting your laptop on the coffee table and snatching the pages from you. "I throw them away like everything else."

"Did you finish your assignment?" you chortled, leaning over to look at the laptop screen. Submission successful. "80%?! When you could easily cheat?"

"I read a question wrong," Jungkook whined, balling up the paper and throwing it down. "Ack."

You looked up at him and he was looking upset at the pile on the table. 

"What's wrong?"

"What if one of them is real?" 

"Huh?"

"I mean... I just throw them away now. But what if one of them is real?" Jungkook wondered out loud. 

You shrugged. "Does it matter? They'll tell you in person if it's that important."

Jungkook tilted his head at you doubtfully. "Will they?"

You sat back into your couch, with your legs wide open. You were wearing sleek black leggings and a cropped pink sweatshirt. Not the most ladylike pose, but you didn't really care. You gestured to the stack of letters on your wooden coffee table. 

"They should. If they actually like you and it's not a joke, then they should tell you in person and accept that they might be rejected."

Jungkook frowned and slumped down next to you. His light-wash denim jacket made a loud floof as his ass hit the brown leather cushions. The wash of his jeans matched his jacket. He wore a white graphic t-shirt under. It looked vintage, but it probably wasn’t. 

"What if they're nervous?" he questioned, twisting his pink lips around.

"So what? Everyone's nervous. We all live in a perpetual state of terror."

Jungkook rolled his eyes. 

You leaned forward and plucked a sky-blue memo note from the table, reading it out loud. "I love you. Marry me." You held it out to him. "See? You get nice ones. I get, ‘choke me like you hate me’ and 'shove your tongue into my asshole, please'. Rarely do I get is that please at the end," you finished with a dry laugh. You looked up to see Jungkook staring back at you. Your laugh died a little seeing his serious expression. 

"Yes."

You blinked at him. "What?"

Jungkook ticked his chin to the note, then shifted his eyes to you.

You pointed to the memo sheet and raised an eyebrow. "I didn't write this."

"I did."

He was so serious that you couldn't laugh. You just blinked at him rapidly and turned your head to look at the sky-blue memo sheet, finally recognizing the clean, block-like handwriting and spotting the bottom right corner. English letters. A J and a K fused together, the way Jungkook usually signed his paintings.

You dropped the note like it was on fire.

Jerked your head up, not to him, but to the painting across from you in the living room, the one with the blue sky and pink-purple clouds, with a tiny JK signature in black at the bottom right corner. The painting you asked Jungkook to make you a while back. 

"You paint, right? I want something calm for my living room. I bought a canvas, so about this size. It's that cool?"

Jungkook had squinted his eyes, nodding. "Yeah, I could draw a pretty big dick on it."

"This is for my living room, dumbass. And I said I wanted something calm."

"A flaccid dick then."

You turned your head back to Jungkook of now, who was wringing his hands on his thighs, wiping off his palms. He noticed you watching him and puffed one cheek before letting out a big sigh. 

"I was... gonna leave it on your laptop," Jungkook mumbled, flapping a hand to the sky-blue note. "But I couldn't find it in my backpack, and then I realized one of the pockets was open, the one where I keep receipts... anyway I had put the note there, so I came out to see if it was in the pile... yup, there it is."

He sucked in his cheek and fell back against the leather sofa.

"Was a joke."

Jungkook's voice sounded hollow. Empty. 

"... Ah." You tucked the tip of your tongue in your cheek.

"Not the greatest joke," he added flatly.

“No, it’s not,” you agreed. "Jokes that are insincere are bad jokes."

The black words glared back up at you, contrasting the pale azure paper. You picked up the memo sheet again. Turned to face him, holding it up next to Jungkook's head of silvery-blond hair. He pursed his lips and looked away from you, jaw clenched in nervousness. 

"Just say it."

He puffed one cheek again. "It was a joke."

"Then why are you saying it in past tense?"

His brown orbs shifted from side to side before Jungkook tried to bolt out of his seat, only for you to slam a hand down on his shoulder and throw a leg over him, straddling his lap before pinning the note to his chest. He yelped sharply and looked up at you with huge, shaking irises. 

In all your time knowing him, you never tried to sleep with Jungkook.

Never. 

You jabbed the note into his white shirt and he gave you a terrified squeak in response. 

You scrutinized his face, jaw slack, eyes wide, blond curls framing his chiseled cheekbones. One of your eyebrows raised, your voice calm and unfazed.

"Say it."

"You say it," Jungkook finally shot back, furrowing his brows, biting on his lip and mustering up the most indignant look he could produce at this very second. You didn’t react. He seemed to have forgotten you did, in fact, say it, although perhaps that wasn’t exactly what he meant.

You never tried to fuck Jungkook because he didn’t treat you as anything more than his primary source of internet when his own was down. Ah, and also his outlet for complaining about his love letter problem. And then there was that other little wrinkle, the unwritten societal rule one of sucking a guy's dick you're still friends with - don't suck his friends' dicks. Surefire way to fuck up a friendship, especially if the dude’s ego was fragile.

Jungkook’s friend was dating someone else now though. His ego couldn’t be that fragile.

You leaned forward and Jungkook's annoyed gaze faltered. He gulped and tried to shrink into your brown leather couch, as if he could somehow disappear under you.

"I love you," you stated clearly and firmly. You glanced at the slightly crumpled piece of blue paper before your eyes flickered back to his face. "Marry me."

Hah, the thing about rules with you was...

Fuck 'em.

Not actually. 

Eh, not the point.

"Really?" Jungkook squeaked, voice cracking slightly.

Ah, right, the other reason you never tried to sex up Jungkook because he was a little bit of an idiot around you. But maybe this sky-blue note detailed the reason for it. 

"Say it," you repeated crossly, poking him in the pecs. "Stop avoiding it."

You observed Jungkook swallow hard again, Adam’s apple bobbing. You furrowed your brows, tipping your head down so that your forehead was hovering over his, eyebrow cocked, gazing into trembling brown orbs. Why was he taking so long? He wrote the damn words. Were they really just a joke? Hmph, why were you even trying then?

That’s how everyone was.

Not putting any stock or thought into their fucking words.

You lifted your finger but Jungkook’s right hand, the one with tiny tattoos, suddenly darted in your view, grabbing your hand back and jamming your finger onto his chest again. His heartbeat raced under your fingertip, thud-thud-thud, rapid bass accenting the moment. Electrifying it.

“Don’t.”

Whisper so faint you frowned and closed even more distance between you two, picking up the scent of vanilla fabric softener and lush cotton. A little different than you, who used a blackberry and spiced vanilla perfume.

“I like this,” Jungkook breathed under you, chewing his lip anxiously. You could feel his warm breath tickling your lips and chin with how close you were. You could count his individual eyebrow hairs, even though the eyebrow product he used.

“I… really like this.”

He let go of your hand.

Now you raised both eyebrows.

You slowly uncurled your middle finger, landing it on his chest next to the index. You felt him shiver a little, lips parting. Straightened your ring finger, planting it down. His lashes lowered a little, brown orbs on your face, watching your reaction to him. You could count the moles on his face. The one on his nose. The one on his cheek. The one under his lower lip. The one on his neck. Your pinky slid onto his chest. A wispy moan left his lips, eyelids fluttering, blond strands floating around his head with the little rise and fall of his heavy, tense exhale.

Why is it your birth date?

Take a wild guess, dumbass.

Your fingers abruptly dug into his white t-shirt, crumpling the note and scrunching the graphic up in your fist. He inhaled sharply, head tipping back and lips nearing yours, a whine escaping his throat. You quirked an eyebrow, drawing back slightly, taking in the rich depth of his tan skin, the sensual line of his neck, up to his angular chin and his dangling silver earrings. All of it. His hands immediately came up to grab your wrist and forearm, ensuring you and himself that you wouldn’t let go, the tendons in your flexed wrist right against his large palm.

“Say it, Jungkook,” you demanded. “Say those words with your pretty pink tongue hanging out your mouth for me.”

You watched him obey immediately, tongue sliding out and touching his lower lip, brown eyes framed by his long lashes and hazy with lust.

“I love you,” Jungkook breathed, a little gargled with his tongue out. “Fucking marry me, please.”

Ah, you couldn't help it. 

You smirked.

"What about all your admirers?" you murmured, twisting your fingers in his shirt, digging your nails into his chest. "You'll break all those poor hearts you’re worried about."

Those dark brown eyes told you they didn't give a single fuck. 

"What about you?" he countered, closing his mouth a little to speak more clearly.

"Me?"

The definition of trouble?

Well, if you looked that up in a dictionary, there would definitely be a picture of you. 

Jungkook’s lips parted once more, keen to submit to your wickedness, pink tongue slipping out again, shiny and glistening with saliva. Breathing shallowly, rubbing your wrist with his thumb, encouraging you to keep going. 

Your lips curved into a treacherous smile.

"I'll break all the hearts to get to yours, Jungkook."

And then you licked his tongue. 

A low moan bubbled from Jungkook's chest, his eyes rolling back and his hips bucking up, desperate for friction as the tip of your wet muscle glided over his warm softness, your spit dripping down his throat, listening to his moans turn into messy garbles of your name, begging you, pleading you, more, more, kiss me, please, and you hooked your tongue around his, gently nudging his jaw with your other hand. Knuckle to chin, tilting your head as your lips closed onto Jungkook's. 

It was not a neat kiss.

There was spit running down his chin, dripping onto his neck and your skin, your lips roughly working his, tongues intertwined and making even more of a mess, you sucking forcefully to earn pained, delicious whines. Jungkook was far too turned on to attempt to glamorize it, cries a jumbled mess under your greedy mouth, but none of that mattered. The moment was sensual and dark, bodies speaking to each other through dopamine and adrenaline. Your hand released his shirt, breaking his grip, switching to burrowing your fingers into his soft blond hair and running your nails over his scalp, leaving lines of prickling pain to enhance your kiss. 

"F-Fuck, oh fuck, yes..."

Your teeth caught his tongue, pulling back and forcing his head to follow. Jungkook made a pained noise, trapped in your embrace, whining as you took him to the brink. You released him swiftly and he snapped backward, blinking hard, trying to reorient himself, but it was impossible, your lips crashing down again, thrusting your tongue into his mouth aggressively, one eye open to witness his fucked-out state, pupils unfocused, long lashes quivering, moaning into your mouth and you inhaling it all, literally taking his breath away. 

It started out with a kiss. 

How did it end up like this?

It was only a kiss. 

It was only a kiss. 

You dropped your lower half onto his crotch and Jungkook gasped, breaking the kiss, strings of spit breaking between you two. You smirked wickedly as you felt his hardness trying to escape its clothing jail, his large hands already on your thighs and hips, sinking his fingers into the soft fabric of your leggings, rocking you into him, desperately trying to get some stimulation.

"Please," he croaked, panting for breath, pulling himself up to sitting position, so easy and smooth, fuck, so sexy, and now Jungkook was in your face, pleas on the tip of his tongue pouring out, tempting you, wanting it. 

"Please, wanna be yours so fucking bad, seeing all those fucking letters and notes you get, and it pisses me off, it's me, I want it to be me, I want to be yours and I'm telling you to your face." 

Whisper achingly hot, deep voice soaked with longing, staring into your eyes with those shaking brown orbs, spinning with emotion like an unstable top, barely enough torque holding it in place and all it took was another spin to encourage it or a gust of rejection to topple it over. 

"And you don't even care about mine, you think they're fucking funny, fuck, I can't stand it, let it be me, please..."

His hands running up your sides, grazing against your breasts, and now his hands were in your hair and yours were in his, bringing your face close, the crumpled sky-blue note right between your joined crotches, forgotten, witnessing the agonizing lust wound tightly in this embrace. 

"Let it be me," Jungkook begged.

You licked your lips slowly, scarcely swiping against his. He shuddered, leaning into it, taking whatever crumbs you gave. His long fingers tensed in your hair, yours buried in the dark roots of his. 

"You'll have to skip the marriage bit for now," you teased lightly. "I don't think my parents will appreciate you slapping down papers before you finish school."

Jungkook snickered, tucking his tongue in his cheek roguishly. "Can't they understand I have to snatch this ass as soon as possible to make people back off?"

Your hands slipped down to his jaw, fitting it in your palms, his silvery-blond stands wrapped around your fingertips. "They'll back off my door once they hear you screaming my name." 

You leaned in, but Jungkook stopped you, brown orbs glittering with mischief to get in one more quip. 

"I doubt it," he purred. 

Yeah. 

Jungkook was right. 

Ah, well. 

You seized his face and kissed him again, fuck, such malleable lips just pleading to be bitten by you, gazing up his nose and to his beautiful eyes, his soft skin in your hands, clenching his jaw under your power, letting you have it, letting you control it and him. You felt him scramble and throw his denim jacket off, dumping it onto your couch to cup your cheeks with his hands, sighing in satisfaction as you inhaled him. Your tongue lazily traced the outskirts of his lips, hearing the rattle of his beaded bracelets by your ears, amused, knowing they were his good luck charms. 

"They bring good luck," he had answered when you saw them for the first time.

You remembered tilting your head at the wooden beads on his slim wrists. "You trying to get your dick sucked or something?"

He had broken out in a loud guffaw. Nudged you with his elbow, cheeky smile on his lips. 

"Never gonna say no to getting my dick sucked."

"Mhm, cool, where's my painting of the flaccid dick?"

From then on, you noticed he wore the same wooden, beaded bracelets every time he came to your apartment.

Hmm. 

Now, your hands falling from his face, yanking his shirt from his pants, annoyed it was getting caught, and then Jungkook fitted his hands around your ass and lifted you easily, breaking the kiss, a moment for you to bear witness to his arms flexing – holy fuck, that’s sexy – right one covered in tattoos. Images and script, with one catching your eye, a string of words running up the inside of his upper arm. One you recognized because you had those words written on your bedroom wall, on a canvas hanging above your bed. A canvas you made, background a chaotic mess of varying dark red brushstrokes, the black script in the center, written by your hand. 

The exact black script with your flourishes and ticks, now tattooed on the inside of his right arm. 

Your eyes drifted to Jungkook's face and his naughty smirk, pleased to be found out. Your lips formed the sentence slowly, in awe of his audacity.

"The devil knows my name."

the devil knows my name. 

Hung above your bed, where all manner of marvelous sinful acts were performed. 

Jungkook grinned deviously. "I saw it. I wanted it on me."

Wanted it on him. 

Oh, fuck. 

Did he know? Could he guess?

"Who's the devil?" you whispered, smile widening, matching his. 

Jungkook reached down, yanking his t-shirt out of his jeans and pulling it up and over his head, revealing the body he sculpted himself, tan skin taut over hard muscle, toned and...

"You're the devil, of course," he snickered. 

Yours. 

"Ding dong daeng," you sing-songed.

How many people have been on your bed, head pulled back by your hand, blinking hard, trying to read the words on your wall through waves of forced ecstasy? Gasping them out, ending with a question, inquiring for an answer.

The devil knows my name?

And you, leaning forward, haunting whisper in their ears, yes, she does, before pushing their face down into the sheets.

"All those love letters not good enough for you, Jungkook?" you breathed, running your hands over his bare chest, spreading your fingers, letting your exhale out through your teeth. His eyes on you, torso trembling, hairs raising, feeling your nails dance up, up, raking over his collarbones and neck, leaving little pink lines of intensity.

"They're not you," he whispered. His hands brushing over yours, outlining your fingers, eyes darkening as you pushed him back into your sofa, lowering your head. "You, the one they talk about..." Your lips on his hot skin, kissing softly, tongue so slight that it made him whimper. "You, the one they look for..." His voice, deep and rumbling, vibrating your lips, pitching as you bit and sucked, leaving small hickeys. "You, the one whose bed I sit on, wondering who else has been there, wondering why it's not me, when I make myself available to you, so easy to prey on, but you let me be..." Your lips closing around his dark brown nipple, scraping your teeth against it, making him squirm and look down at you, you and your self-satisfied, ravenous smirk. 

"I let you read them," Jungkook whimpered, blond strands curled around his cheeks, chest shuddering at your nail flicking his other nipple while your mouth worked the other. "Let you see everything they want to do to me and you still didn't know."

You chuckled darkly. "What's there to know?" you mused, sticking your tongue out and pressing it against the now hard pink-tinged nub, receiving small whines of pleasure as your reward. "It's obvious what you wanted. I was right in front of you. All you had to do was say something."

Jungkook frowned as you sat up, tongue in cheek, half-grinning.

"Look at you."

You crossed your arms and pulled your pink cropped sweatshirt up and over your head, dropping it to the floor. Casually running a hand through the top of your hair to pull it away from your face, gazing down at shirtless Jungkook covered in your red bites, cocking your head with a smirk. He raised an eyebrow, eyes roaming over your figure and the curve of your breasts molded to smooth black satin. 

"You look like you eat hearts for breakfast," he murmured, admiration in his tone.

The side of your lips quirked further upwards.

"And yet you wanna love me."

Jungkook grinned. "I don't want to. I already do."

And then he was the one to pull you to him, kissing you hungrily, you immediately turning it into your favor, your pace, his tongue commanded by yours as he unhooked your bra, moaning into your mouth, rubbing your exposed nipples with his palms, unable to do much as you pushed him into the couch again, guiding his tongue down with your teeth and running the tip of yours over his wet muscle once more, trickling saliva into his throat and onto his chin and neck, messy and lewd. 

"The devil knows your name," you sighed into his mouth, feeling him knead your breasts, thumbs brushing over your hard nipples, tendrils of pleasure making your skin tingle. "And now the devil takes what she wants."

You saw the sides of his lips curve upwards as you backed up to strip the rest of your clothes, amused at Jungkook eagerly following suit and unbuttoning his jeans.

"Can't wait to flaunt how hot you are?" you laughed, reaching down to the shelf under the side table where a ceramic R2-D2 cookie jar sat.

"Do you think I'm hot?" Jungkook haughtily accused before gawking at your waist to ass ratio, his hands slowing, pants stopped to his knees in his distraction.

You gently took off the head of R2-D2 and plucked a condom from it. Some guy told you once that you couldn't like Star Trek and Star Wars at the same time and you told him to shut the fuck up as you slapped his nuts. He begged you to do it again. You fondly patted R2-D2's head after you fitted it back.

You straightened to see Jungkook on your couch with his hard dick on display.

You looked him dead in the eye. "You think I'd let you borrow my laptop if I thought you were ugly?"

Jungkook broke out of his trance and shrugged, finally yanking his calves – holy shit, his calves and thighs were muscular as fuck – out of his jeans, underwear and socks gone with them.

"Maybe you pitied my grades."

"I'd just pay for you to go to the library and fuck off, dumbass," you muttered, pushing his hands aside and ripping the condom open, drinking in the delicious sight of his throbbing red cock dripping pre-cum, his balls just waiting for – fuck it, you got down on your knees and wrapped your tongue around his length, Jungkook sputtering and gasping at your suddenness. Fuck, he smelled and tasted fucking good, clean and velvety to your lips enclosing around the head and sliding down, using one hand to scoop up his balls. Made eye contact with him again.

Jungkook breathed your name hesitantly.

Your tongue slid out of your lips and you jammed his cock all the way down your throat, slathering his balls wetly with your whisking tongue, circling around one and then the other, long expansive strokes that went past the girth of his cock, your pink tongue visible to him. Jungkook's pupils blew wide with shock, moans catching in his throat, whole body shivering, trying desperately not to look away even through you could tell he wanted to throw himself into your sofa and fucking lose it.

"Oooooooh, fuck, that's amazing.... Holy shit, your tongue is everything...."

You chuckled and pulled your head back, satisfied with his reaction. He seemed slightly disappointed until you rolled down the condom, cracking your neck.

"I think I've given enough." You stood up, getting back on top of him and his glorious thighs. "Time for you to be taken."

Jungkook smirked.

You smirked wider and more wickedly.

The sky-blue memo was crumpled into a ball, fallen to your hardwood floor.

Held him with two fingers, ugh, the weight of his cock, fuck yes, and those beautiful dark chocolate eyes, Jungkook, you dumbass, cursing that he didn't tell you sooner so that you could watch him groan and throw his head back like he was right now, gasping at your tightness, your name torn from his throat as you took in every centimeter of him, every pulsing vein and contour of his wonderful cock, stupid Jungkook and his attractive self not using his damn words so you could ride him like you were right now, setting up a fast, bruising pace. Your fingers dug into the back of the couch as you bucked your hips into his violently, keeping yourself tight because you were so fucking wet, fuck, so wet for Jeon Jungkook and his idiotic self, asking for internet to do his school assignments and not asking for his dick to be used as your fucking joystick. 

Dumbass.

"Oh fuck," Jungkook gasped. "Oh, fuck, you're so wet and tight, shit, shit, shit..."

"Tell me something I haven't heard before," you chuckled, only half-meaning it, waving your entire body to deliver a particularly hard smack to his crotch, Jungkook whimpering under you, his hands flying to your upper arms and clutching them, trying to hold on to your wildness.

"Holy fuck, you have some hard biceps," he blurted out, startled at the prominent muscle.

Well, you haven't heard that one before.

"Guess that's what happens when you jack off a lot of dick," you mused nonchalantly.

You ticked your head to Jungkook's arms – delicious – and he frowned at you, opening his mouth to protest and you cut him off by shoving two fingers into his lips, pressing them down into the wet warmth, grinning maniacally as you watched him struggle with your fingers rubbing his tongue and his cock getting assaulted by you aggressively slamming your hips down and clamping around his stiffness, tighter, faster, whines of your name in his throat, head falling back onto the couch with a flump. You were careful not to push your fingers too far. 

Getting vomited on wasn't really on your sexual activities bingo card.

Jungkook was, however, drooling down his chin and neck, and you pulled back to grab his shoulder with your wet hand – oh, fuck, his shoulder, what a lovely shape – and Jungkook wheezed for breath, you ignoring it as you focused all your energy on fucking the life out of him, dirty squelches and smacks of hips on hips, staring down at his abs and v-line, all his hard work at the gym on display, his hands still on your upper arms as he raised his hips to meet yours, needily moaning for you to destroy him with your pace.

Damn, maybe you would have sent him a love letter if you had seen him naked at least once.

"A-Ask me to cum for you," Jungkook finally got out, voice hoarse from breathing so hard for so long.

"You're going to anyway," you taunted.

"Want you to ask," he whined, almost pouting. "Tell me to do it."

You gazed into his eyes, into those brown irises overtaken by black pupils, him a top spinning by your hand, your plaything commanded by your body, pussy clenching around his twitching cock, spurred on from his pleading tone, giving him a devious and wicked grin, speaking to his swollen lips, the devil knows your name, Jungkook, and him moaning back, fuck yes she does, so close, so fucking close, unashamedly barreling towards your release, power in your veins and under you, his muscles rippling as he fucked you back, amplifying every thrust.

"Jungkook."

"Y-Yes?"

"Say it."

Brown eyes locked with yours.

"I love you. Marry me."

You smirked.

"Cum for me."

A half-second and then you let go, letting the feeling rush in and envelop you, the moment held back to torture him, and now you felt it all, already at the tipping point, strained moan as your orgasm crashed into you, shudders all over and falling, sitting all the way down in his lap to experience the throbbing ache of your core giving out and spilling onto his cock and balls in rapid bursts, viscous and sweet. The scent of sex mixing with blackberry and spiced vanilla, his length jerking inside you, and only then did you hear Jungkook crying out your name over and over, the roar in your ears fading out to his shivering moans, hands sliding up and down your arms, eyes closing and lost in the pleasure of your pussy squeezing out his cum. His touch travelling down to your waist, pulling you to him.

Messy, soft kisses, your name and curses mixed together.

"It's me, right?"

You smiled into his mouth that was still asking questions.

"Please let it be me. You'll let me love you for real, right?"

Pushing your hair back, his sweaty blond locks sticking to your face.

"Because I already do, can't stop, won't stop–"

"Yeah, Jungkook, funnily enough I figured that from the first kiss already," you chuckled, running your fingers through his ash blond hair and pulling his head back lightly, seeing him pout, the mole underneath his lower lip peeking out.

"But..."

"Hm?"

His voice suddenly small, vulnerable, his semi-hard dick still inside you.

"Do you love me?"

You lifted a brow. "What kind of dumbass question is that?" You grabbed his arm and pressed your nail into his tattoo of your words, drawing a pink scratch under them, making him gasp. "How can I not love you? Fuck, that's the sexiest thing I've ever seen, my handwriting tattooed onto you. Yes, I love you, Jungkook."

Jungkook's jaw dropped.

This fool is still shocked after all this?

You reached down and held the condom down as you lifted yourself off, yanking him to his feet, pushing Jungkook to your coffee table, right in front of the pile of letters with his name all over them. You picked up your laptop and pushed it onto his chest, forcing him to hold it, him still confused, mildly stunned, not knowing what the fuck was happening.

Then you made him half-straddle your coffee table and yanked off the condom.

"Um–"

Grabbed his cock and started furiously jacking him off.

"Oh, f-fuck!"'

And then he realized what you were doing, the sheer wrongness of it, getting harder and harder with every second, throbbing in your hand.

"You're just like them," you chuckled through exerted breath.

Faster, rougher, tighter, Jungkook clutching your laptop, his larger frame leaning against yours, head thrown back so far that his blond hair was brushing your shoulder, moaning lustfully as he thrusted his hips into your grip. White pooled onto the purple-red tip of his abused cock, far too sensitive to be jacked off this hard right after orgasm, but Jungkook begged you not to stop, streams of residual cum running down your slicked fingers.

"Always looking for your fix from the addiction that's me," you whispered into his ear, laced with an authoritative growl. 

You saw Jungkook's head lower out of your periphery, eyes opening, staring at the colorful envelopes with his name printed on them, the cute stickers and neat handwriting, panting your name, tendons and veins standing out on his neck, sweat beading on his tan skin. 

A low, dangerous chuckle rising in his throat. 

"There's a difference between them and me."

You felt his cock twitch in your hand, ridiculously hard at what you two were about to do. 

"They're not going to get their fix."

Jungkook shuddered against you, jerking his hips forward, thick white strings splattering all over the pastel paper as you watched, fascinated, the scent of his cum saturating the air and the envelopes, drops soaking and smearing the carefully written ink, time wasted and defiled. 

"I am," he moaned, twisting his body on your arms, leaning down to kiss you hungrily as you squeezed his cock, draining it all out, all over your coffee table and coating your hand, stained with Jeon Jungkook's love letter to you. 

--

masterpost

[folklorelise]

Please don’t go out with someone else.

Synopsis: How did squad leader mom met the captain and how they got together.

MASTERLIST; ASK (request or anything else)

Your brother and Wylan, your childhood friend, always wanted to join the training corps. As you were only a year younger than them, you grew up with them constantly talking about joining the military – naturally, you wanted to join the military too. Your parents tried to talk the three of you out of this, but it was useless. Wylan always wanted to see what was outside the walls, therefore he knew he wanted to join the survey corps. Your brother tried to talk him out of this, but Wylan was stubborn.

When you finally reached the appropriate age to join the survey corps, you were beyond excited. Your brother and Wylan both waited another year so you could all join together.

“This is going to be so fun!” Wylan shouted the first day.

Out of the three of you, your brother was the best one – he was a great fighter, he was great with the gear and he was very obedient as well. Wylan was doing great – nothing exceptional but he could easily make into the top ten.

“At this rate, I’m sure the three of us will end up in the top ten and you know what that means?” your brother asked, “we could all move inside of wall Sina, and have a nice and peaceful life.”

“I don’t want to be part of the military police.” Wylan stated, “I’m joining the survey corps, no matter what happens.”

“Why would you do this?” your brother yelled. “Wylan, I didn’t want to bring this up but your parents –.”

“Yes, I know what happened to them.” Wylan argued. “I know they sacrificed themselves outside, they were both soldiers and having a kid was clearly a bad choice. That doesn’t mean I won’t join the survey corps too.” Wylan paused a second, “You think I’m stupid for wanting this.”

“No. It’s just that I want to grow old with you beside me.” your brother admitted. “And with you being in the survey corps, that won’t be possible.”

“I could visit –.” Wylan started.

“That won’t be possible because you might die outside!” your brother then looked at you, “you’re coming with me, right?”

“I might no be able to do that. None of us will if we’re not in the top ten.” you hesitated.

That night, before going to bed, Jesper, your brother, pulled you on the side so he could talk to you alone.

“Don’t mess up with tests tomorrow.” he told you.

“What?”

“I know you’re capable of doing the bare minimum, so you won’t have to choose. If you want to join the survey corps too, I…” he took a deep breath, “please take care of Wylan for me.”

“You could come with us.” you suggested. “You’re amazing, better than anyone else here, so why don’t you want to?”

“I don’t want to. I don’t want to know what it feels like to be in front of a titan and knowing that they’ll eat me when I can be safe inside.” Jesper worried.

“Please go talk to Wylan, I don’t want you two to fight. You’re both choosing different paths and you know, it’s ok.”

“Yeah. I should apologise.”

“Also, I will try my best to keep him safe outside.”

“Thank you.” Jesper smiled before leaving.

Without surprise, Jesper ended up being ranked first while you were third and Wylan fourth. Amongst the top ten, there was only you and Wylan who did not choose the military police. Before leaving, Jesper came to see you both to tell you goodbye.

“I’m going to miss you.”  Wylan told Jesper.

“I’m going to miss you too.” Jesper held Wylan’s hand tightly.

“Great,” you added smiling, “I mean, great to know I’ll be missed too.”

“I’m going to miss you too.” your brother smiled before hugging you.

“Yeah, anyway I’ll leave first because I feel like a third wheel here. I’ll see you later.”

When you finally arrived at the survey corps headquarters, you had a few hours to clean your clothes into your dorm before meeting everyone else on the training grounds to meet your future squad leader. You were beyond relieved when you found out Wylan and you were in the same squad because making friends was not your specialty.

“Hi, I’m Erwin. I’m your squad leader.”

“You’re really young.” you commented which resulted in Wylan punching you softly.

“I’m sorry, sir.” Wylan apologised.

“No, it’s fine. I worked hard for this post and I am proud of it.”

Later that day, you both met Hange.

“Really nice to meet you. I heard you two ranked top ten.” Hange said. “You won’t regret your choice, I’m sure it’ll be fun!”

“I’m Wylan, and this is Y/N.”

That night, you all drank and ate together – that is how you became friend with Hange, Mike, Erwin – your squad leader – and many other comrades.

Your first expedition took place a month after your arrival – it started great. There were only a few titans. Unfortunately, after a few days, it started to rain. At first, it was fine but when it turned out to be an enormous storm – it started to worry everyone.  

The order was to stay close to each other so no one would get lost. When the storm finally calmed down – you looked around and noticed a lot of missing people.

“Where – Where’s Wylan?” you asked loudly.

“Y/N,” Erwin held you back, “he might be with another squad somewhere else.”

“No,” you mumbled panicked, “he – he was just behind me. He should be here too!”

You walked away and sat down somewhere calm, hoping for Wylan to show up. The remaining squads arrived one after the another, each one missing some of their soldiers.

“Y/N, the commander arrived,” Hange said quietly, “let’s go.”

The expedition just started which meant that it had to continue. A few hours passed, and as you followed Erwin on your horse you noticed a few bodies sitting under a tree on your left.

“Squad leader Erwin,” you hesitated, “look.” you pointed at where the bodies were.

Erwin and the rest of the squad run to them. You pushed them aside when you saw Wylan was one of the injured soldiers.

“Wylan!” you sobbed, “Hey, it’s me.”

“Hey.” Wylan choked, “I’m… glad… you’re alive.”

“You are too.” you cried.

“I’m sor–.”

“No, it’s ok, we’re going to be fine.” you tried to hold your tears back.

“Tell him… I love him…” Wylan took a deep breath, “ok?”

“Ok. I’m sure he knows and that he loves you very much too.”

“Good.” Wylan smiled weakly, “thank you… for coming back...”

You stayed with Wylan until he passed away – then, the soldiers’ bodies were all put in the cart and as the cart went back inside the walls, you had to continue.

When the expedition finally ended, you headed straight to Wylan dorm so you could clean his clothes and other belongings. You sent a letter to your family and Jesper so they could come for the funeral the survey corps organised for all the loses.

“I’m so sorry.” you cried when you saw Jesper again. “When I – he was…”

“It’s ok.” Jesper hugged you. “It’s ok.” he repeated.

Your parents brought flowers with them – in front of Wylan tomb, there were only the four of you.

“I’m going to bring his things.” you said, “can you guys help me?” you asked your parents so Jesper could have some privacy with Wylan.

You had put everything in a small bag, except for Wylan cloak which you decided to keep. Everything else was giving to Jesper. Before leaving, Jesper spent some time with you in your empty dorm.

“Did you… did he said anything before…”

“He told me to tell you that he loves you.” you whispered.

You both stayed together, in complete silence before he got up and had to leave. You reluctantly walked to the mess hall for dinner and sat with Hange. They smiled at you and you both ate in silence too – no one really wanted to talk.

Years went by and at the age of twenty-four, you became a squad leader. Hange had been promoted a few years before you – everything was going great. Then, one day, Erwin brought in three new recruits from the Underground. After commander Shadis put them in Flagon’s squad, you left with Hange et Erwin.

“What did you do?” you asked Erwin once you three were alone. “Why would you bring three thugs from the underground here?”

“They could be an asset to the survey corps. You should go and see them fight.”

“They have zero experience; they had no training. Just look at how disrespectful they are!”

“They are better than some of us at using the gear with no training.” Erwin corrected you.

“We’ll pay them a visit later.” Hange said.

“Great.” Erwin smiled before leaving.

“I don’t want to.” you told Hange.

“Oh, come on, please come with me!”

On their first day of training, you and Hange joined Flagon. You were all talking waiting for them to arrive, but after ten minutes of waiting, you volunteered to go and look for them. The first place you went for was the changing room with all the gear you used.

“You’re late.” you stated when you saw Isabel still with her gear undone.

“Sorry.”

“Well, hurry. Also, where are your two other friends?” you asked, “doesn’t matter, I’ll go look for them.”

“Wait.” Isabel stopped you, “This gear is a little different from what we used. I don’t know how to put it on correctly, no one told me.”

You turned around and slowly walked to her and explained to her how to put it on easily and quickly. When Isabel was done, you both walked out, and her friends were waiting for her outside.

“Next time try to be on time.” you told them when you walked out.

“Sorry miss.” Furlan apologised.

“It’s squad leader Y/N.” you corrected him harshly.

When you joined Flagon, he was fuming – screaming that they were irresponsible for making him wait that long and that they should just go back to where they came. When they started to kill the wooden titans, you were all speechless.

“Oh my!” you shouted impressed, “Erwin was right.”

“I wouldn’t have mind having them with me.” Hange stated impressed as well. “Flagon, you’re lucky as hell.”

Flagon ignored you and left to talk to them while you and Hange were talking about how good they were.

“Levi’s the most impressive right?” Hange said.

“Hell yeah!” you agreed. “Now I just want to see them in front of real titans. Act cool.” you told Hange when you saw them coming back.

“You were awesome!” Hange shouted, “Even more because you didn’t receive any training. Right Y/N.”

“You were great, yeah.” you commented calmly.

The next expedition was announced a few days later – it would take place in a month and half. Isabel and you became quite close since you were in charge of teaching them how to ride the horses – Flagon traded with you. While you would do his work, he will do some of your paperwork.

Furlan was polite and nice – he was making a lot of effort to blend in like Isabel. The only one who did not try was Levi. You tried to talk to him multiple times, but he would never answer you.

“Oh right,” you said before they would leave, “this weekend you’re allowed to leave the headquarters so you can visit family or just walk around the market. If you don’t want to leave, I can bring things for you if you’d like.”

“Can you bring back some of the cake you had last time?” Isabel asked referring to the cake your mom had baked.

“I’d like that too.” Furlan smiled.

“Sure, I’ll send a letter to my mom. What about you Levi?”

“Bring me some tea. And not the one you have here because it’s disgusting.” Levi said.

“Tea? Ok, I can do that.” you smiled, “you know it’s the first time you ever said anything to me.” you laughed before leaving.

You went back to your room to write your letter asking your mother to bake some cake and gather some tea leaves. While you were in your room, the trio went to their usual spot in the roof.

“I like Y/N,” Isabel started, “she’s nice.”

“Weirdly nice to us,” Levi said, “you didn’t tell her anything right?”

“I didn’t!”

“I don’t understand why she is that nice though.” Furlan added. “She didn’t seem to like us at first.”

“She changed her mind, she got to know us better –.” Isabel defended you.

“We’re leaving soon so it doesn’t matter.” Levi said.

Two years ago, your parents had the chance to move inside of wall Sina thanks to their business growing. You left Friday night to your parent’s house. Jesper was the one who came to take you home.

Saturday morning, Levi found it odd that you were with them – because you would always greet them in the morning. They did not know that you left earlier the day before. Hange and Erwin noticed how Levi was looking around and staring at every new person entering the mess hall.

“You should go and tell him that she’s not here.” Hange told Erwin.

“You go.” Erwin said.

“Fine.” Hange went to their table. “Hi. I noticed how you were looking for Y/N… I think.” Hange told Levi.

“I wasn’t.”

“Oh, then never mind.”

“But now that you’re here, where is she?” Levi asked.

“She went home last night. She’ll be back in three days. No need to worry.”

“I wasn’t.”

Levi hated himself for missing you – he tried to convince himself that he wanted to see you because you promised him tea, but deep down, he missed your calm and joyful presence. You had a lot of baskets full of food your mother prepared which meant your brother had to come and help with it.

“Where is there a short man glaring at me like that?” Jesper told when you left the carriage.

“What?” you asked him confused.

Jesper discreetly nodded towards Levi.

“I don’t know.” you said.

“Well, I’m leaving you here.” Jesper said going back into the carriage. “You’re good, right?”

“Yes, I’ll see you soon, bye!” you hugged him one last time before he left.

There were in total five big baskets of food – you tried to take them all at once for more efficiency, but it was a failure. Levi from behind took three of them seeing you struggling.

“Thank you.” you smiled, “we should just put them in my room.”

You walked in silence to your room and once Levi put everything on your desk – he started to leave but you stopped him by grabbing his sleeve.

“You forgot your tea.” you let go of his sleeve. “Oh, I also brought you this tea set, because the one we have here is really old.” you explained as you gave him an entire basket. “There’s also Furlan and Isabel’s food in there.”

“Thank you.” Levi whispered before leaving.

Two days after you came back, Levi stormed in your room at night as you were ready to go to bed. When Levi saw you in a simple tee shirt and some short, he immediately left your room. You slowly opened your door only to find Levi still outside of your room.

“Are you ok?” you asked worried.

“Yes.” Levi blushed slightly. “Your mother, I don’t know how she organised her tea. I need your help.”

“Oh, okay,” you nodded, “let’s go then.” you closed your door.

“Are you not going to put on more clothes?” Levi asked you, “because it’s cold.”

When you noticed how Levi still would not look into your eyes, you decided it would be better to put on a long jacket.

You followed him to the kitchen, where he had prepared two cups and some water and every tea flavour your mother had packed.

“Each colour of bags represents a flavour,” you explained, “Mh, I thought she wrote on it which flavour it was, but I think with time she just stopped writing it – because she knew. What flavour you want to drink now?”

“You choose.”

“I like green tea, but it’s late in the night now so we should try something else. Like chamomile.” you thought.

Levi poured hot water into the teapot and you waited five minutes before pouring some into the cups. You sat in front of each other at the nearest table to the kitchen and drank in silence.

“Why are you staring at me?” Levi asked drinking his tea.

“I always like to look at pretty flowers and pretty things in general,” you said which made Levi raise his eyebrows, “that’s why I was staring at you.” you completed your sentence smiling.

Levi felt his cheeks getting hotter – he was speechless. No one ever before complimented him, ever so that was new. Meaning, he did not know how to answer.

“Are you okay?” you asked him, “you’re really red. Oh no, is it because of the tea?” you reached out your hands to touch his face. “Are you having a fever?” you worried.

“No, I’m fine.” Levi took your hands and put them on the table but did not let go of them. “Your hands are soft.” Levi said.

“Your hands are warm.” you smiled squeezing his hands softly.

You were both looking at each other when suddenly the door opened on Isabel and Furlan which made Levi back away from you.

“Oh, sorry.” Isabel said, “did we interrupt something?”

“No.” Levi said. “I’ll meet you in ten minutes.”

“Ok.” Furlan left with Isabel.

“You can go, I’ll clean this up.” Levi started to gather the cups and teapot.

“Ok, I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

Neither you nor Levi slept that night – it was not unusual for Levi, but for you it was. You could not stop thinking about what happened before Isabel and Furlan came in and neither could Levi.

After that, Levi would often make small talk with you when you were alone. He would often call you to drink tea with him before you went to bed. Then, a few days before their first expedition, Levi started to avoid you more and more which you did not find odd – it might be stress about the expedition. You were busy with your squad and paperwork. The day of the expedition, you went to see Levi because it had been a while.

“I’ll probably see you during the expedition though, but I wanted to see you before leaving. Good luck out there even though I know you don’t need it.”

Your squad was next to Hange’s and the expedition started. The few years after Wylan’s passing, every time it rained during an expedition you would start to panic and not be as useful as you would usually be. Surprisingly, the survey corps never experienced another storm during an expedition – it always happened before or after it. Therefore, when it started to rain heavily you started to be worried.

“Y/N,” Hange called you, “it’s ok.”

“Yeah.” you whispered, “no one walk away from me.” you ordered to your squad.

As the storm started, Hange’s squad and yours took shelter on high trees leaving your horses under you.

“Are you ok?” Hange asked you.

“Yes. It’s going to calm down soon, and it’ll be good.”

When the storm calmed down, Erwin’s squad passed on your way, so you joined them. After assuring him that no one was injured, you continued to ride on your horse. Erwin, Hange and you were leading the way, but very soon you stopped when you noticed all the blood on the ground.

“Wha – what happened?” you trembled. “Wh – who’s squad…” you got off your horse.

“That’s… the steam from the fallen titans.” Erwin said. “Are there any survivors out there?” Erwin yelled.

When you all approached the steam, you found Levi on his knees next to someone’s head which made you look away.

“Are you the only one left?” Erwin asked, “The corpses of these titans… you did this alone…?”

Levi stared at Erwin before tackling Erwin down of his horse. Mike, Hange and you took out your blades ready to defend Erwin, but he ordered us to stay back. Levi put his blade next to Erwin’s neck before speaking.

“Erwin, I’m going to kill you, you bastard. That’s why I’m here.”

Erwin showed Levi the envelope he kept on him and explained to him what happened.

“Why did you bring us into the corps?”

“Your military prowess…” Erwin started, “And to use you as partners to throw off Lovof…but now, it’s all over.”

Levi pushed on his blade, but Erwin stopped it with his hand.

“Who’s the one that killed my subordinates, your friends. Was it me? Was it you? Do you think that if you had come to attack me together that the two of them would have made it out alive?” Erwin asked, “No! It was the titans!”

Everyone else listened to Erwin’s speech including Levi.

“Fight with the survey corps Levi. Humanity needs your skill!”

The end of that expedition came sooner than you thought. You made sure that your squad members were doing ok then you went back to your room to clean up. You made sure to write a letter to your brother first so he would know that you were still alive and then you decided to go check on Levi.

“Levi?” you knocked on his door, but no one answered. “If you need to talk, I’m here.”

For the next few days, Levi rarely went out of his room. Furlan and him were the only ones sleeping there – meaning no one could bother him. A week after the end of the expedition, Levi came to your room one night.

“Levi.” you put your book down.

“You said… I could talk to you.”

“Of course, you can.” you sat on your bed. “I’m sorry for your loss.” you added as you saw Levi pacing around your room.

“I can’t…I don’t know what to do.” Levi sat next to you. “Whenever someone knocks on my door, I keep hoping it would be one of them.”

“I know…” you paused, “after that, you’ll feel anger.” you hesitated, “Then comes the guilt, thinking what if I was quicker or what if I made a different choice… maybe I could’ve helped. After that, you’ll feel sad. Eventually, it won’t hurt as much as it used to, to talk about them. It’ll get better.”

“How do you know it will get better?”

“It is terrible, but this probably won’t be your last loss. And I –… I lost my best friend a long time ago. It was our first expedition too…”

Levi and you were lying on your bed in silence.

“I can’t sleep.” Levi admitted. “It’s getting lonely in that room.”

“I can stay with you if you want.” you yawned.

“Sorry, I’m keeping you from sleeping – I’ll go.” Levi stood up but you held his hand.

“You can stay here. I don’t mind.” you looked at Levi.

You moved on the inner side of your bed so Levi could lay next to you. Levi did not let go of your hand when he laid down on your bed.

“Goodnight Levi.” you said before falling asleep very quickly.

“Goodnight Y/N.” Levi whispered looking at you.

Levi found himself getting sleepier and when he closed his eyes – for the first time in a long time – he fell asleep without any difficulty. In the middle of the night, you woke up feeling thirsty and noticed that Levi was sleeping. He was still holding your hand which made it impossible for you to get up.

You always have a glass of water ready next to your bed, but you were on the wrong side of the bed. You got up and tried not to wake Levi up or letting go of his hand and drank your water. When you went back to bed, Levi finally let go of your hand and turned on his side – his back against you. You took a deep breath before wrapping your arms around Levi.

Levi was the first one to wake up. You were clinging tightly around Levi which made it impossible for him to move without waking you up.

“Mh, morning.” you mumbled when you woke up.

“Morning.”

“Did you sleep well?” you asked still holding onto Levi.

“Yes, thanks to you.”

“We could do this every night…” you said. “if you want, because…” your cheeks started to heat up.

“Yeah.” Levi breathed.

After a few minutes of staying in bed, you both got up and brushed your teeth and changed into new clothes. You arrived together in the mess hall and when you saw Levi going to eat alone, you held his shirt back.

“Come eat with us.” you pointed at your usual table with Hange, Mike and Erwin.

“No, it’s fine.”

“They don’t mind.” you looked at your friends, “right?”

“We don’t.” Erwin smiled.

You sat next to Levi and while he ate in silence, you were chatting with everyone. Your friends noticed how Levi and you became a lot closer since that day:

-          Levi would often finish eating first, instead of leaving he waited for you to finish eating.

-          You would always come in together in the morning.

-          You would always leave together at night.

-          According to Mike, Levi smelled like you – logic since he slept in your room with you.

“Are they together?” Hange once asked.

“They have to be.” Nanaba said. “Right?”

“Should we ask them?” Hange said.

“You ask them.” Mike suggested.

“No thanks. Oh, here they come,” Hange said, “act natural.”

Everyone suspected you two to be together, but neither Levi nor you said anything about it. Levi and you both had feelings for each other, but no one was brave enough to make the first step. You acted like a couple without really being one.

Two months after this, Jesper paid you a visit which made Levi confused. He did not know Jesper was your brother meaning he thought you were going on a date with someone. At night when you came back, Levi took you to your room.

“I like you.” Levi suddenly admitted. “Please don’t go out with someone else.”

“I – I like you too. A lot.” you smiled.

“So… who was that man?”

“Jesper? He’s my brother!”

“Oh.” Levi looked away embarrassed.

“So, are we a couple now?”

“I’d like that.”

“Me too.”

—————

Bonus about how people found out about it — Hange saw your two like this:

[ptergwen]

call me cupid

w/c: 3.5k

warnings: very mild angst and a few swears

summary: despite your hatred for valentine’s day, peter attempts to make you a card

a/n: happy valentine’s day my loves!! i hope y’all get to spend some time with your people today and eat lots of chocolate <3 love you & enjoy mwah

-

it’s no secret that peter is terrible with words. he gets so flustered he can’t talk or forgets what he wants to say altogether. school presentations are torture. ordering food out is impossible. he’s accepted it at this point, that speaking just isn’t for him.

the one place it doesn’t come across is on paper. peter is ridiculously smart, and he knows all the right words to string together, which is why writing you a valentine should be no trouble at all. should be no trouble at all.

to tell the truth, he’s been sitting at his kitchen table with a blank sheet of paper in front of him for what feels like hours. nothing is coming to him. he’s not sure why this is so hard. you’re his girlfriend, he loves you, he’s said it so many times in every way he could think to. what’s different about it now?

everyone puts way too much pressure on giving the perfect gift when they should really just be enjoying each other’s company on a holiday about love. or, in your words, a meaningless holiday that was created by capitalists as another excuse to take people’s money. 

alright, you aren’t too fond of valentine’s day.

it makes anyone who’s single feel like shit and anyone who’s in a relationship lose their shit.

only mj agreed when you shared your criticisms. ned and betty gave you looks like you were insane, and flash muttered something about you being undateable. peter had laughed and swung an arm around your shoulders, but he didn’t fully agree.

although valentine’s day has its flaws, peter likes to see it as twenty four hours of extra appreciation for the people in his life. you can buy chocolate for your friends and family. it doesn’t have to be a significant other, really. him and ned would do it before he had you and ned had betty.

peter wants to remind you how loved you are even if you’re not into the festivities like he is, that bringing him to writing your card. it’s a simple and clinically underrated way of expressing his gratitude. he’d write you love letters every day if he didn’t suck at them.

may comes out of her room to see peter in the same place he’s been since he got home from school. she looks at him through her glasses, smiling as she comes into the room. he’s tapping his pencil on the table, eraser down, searching his mind for anything to write.

“still nothing?” may asks him, making her way over to the cabinets. peter puts down the pencil and sighs. his shoulders slump. “nope. i haven’t gotten past the intro.” “intro, huh?” she teases her newphew and grabs a jar of sauce. “y/n isn’t your teacher, kiddo. you’re not writing her an essay.” she looks at peter over her shoulder. a sheepish smile creeps onto his face.

“you know what i mean.” he reads over the only words on his paper at the moment. dear y/n. he’s starting to feel like spongebob the one time he wrote a paper. “what are you making?” peter asks may so he can temporarily take the focus off his unwritten valentine. “pasta,” may shakes the box in her hand. “and meatballs.”

“should i dial 911 now or wait until we’re in flames?” peter jokes about her awful cooking skills. may shoos him off and puts the box of pasta on the counter. “worry about your own kitchen nightmare.” she nods at the sheet of paper tormenting him. frowning, he glances back at her. “i’m the worst, may. i really don’t know what to write.”

may struggles to open the jar of sauce as she replies. “i thought you said- jesus.” it pops off. “y/n doesn’t like valentine’s day.” she slides over a pot from the stove and dumps the sauce in. peter stares up at the ceiling. “she doesn’t.” that’s probably why he’s having such a hard time. “why are you writing her a card, then?” may questions, turning on a burner.

“because, i dunno, it’s nice? it’ll make her happy? she might not care, but i do.” he mumbles the last part. he’s a bit of a hopeless romantic, so he hasn’t quite adjusted to the idea you had of not getting each other presents. you’re treating it like a regular day. some takeout and cuddles is all you’re doing.

peter would rather buy you things until his pockets are empty. not that there’s much in them, anyway. the point is that you deserve proper spoiling instead of corny words in his shitty handwriting.

“peter, honey. it might be better to stick with what y/n wants,” may suggests while stirring the sauce in the pot. she’s well aware that a few paragraphs from peter won’t change your mind. your opinions belong to you, and there’s nothing he can do about it, though he does have good intentions.

ignoring what may just said, peter makes a request. “what if you help me write it?” she faces the stove again. he can picture her playful smile when she quirks back, “she’s not my girlfriend.” “no, but you’re a girl... a woman,” he corrects himself, earning a scoff from may. “you’d probably know what sounds good.”

“you know y/n better than me, peter. do it on your own,” she exhales and turns back around with the wooden spoon in her hand. “it’ll be more... heartfelt.” peter hates that may is right because he’s completely stuck. his heart is being stupid today. “okay. i’ll try.” he gives her a slow nod. “why don’t you take a break? come stir the sauce. i’ll start the pasta.”

peter gets up from the table and grabs the spoon from may. she pinches his cheek on her way to the sink, getting a tight lipped smile from him.

this is not good.

-

the next day at school, peter asks around the lunch table for advice while you’re on line getting food. he feels guilty about it because may told him not to. he’s never going to get your valentine done if he doesn’t, though. it isn’t the worst thing in the world to bring on some co-writers.

“ok, what do you have so far?” betty asks, fully invested in the situation. she’s hoping this will switch up your views on valentine’s day. peter pulls out the same piece of paper from last night and says verbatim what’s on it. “dear y/n.” he looks up at ned and betty, the corners of his mouth twitching down. ned motions with his hand for peter to go on.

“that’s it,” peter confesses and folds the paper back up in shame. “dude, you told us it was a work in progress,” ned winces, betty taking his hand that’s resting on her shoulder. “where’s the progress?” betty patronizes him. they’re making him feel worse than he already did. what great co-writers he’s collaborating with.

peter throws a hand up, an eye roll included. “yeah, it’s terrible. can you help me or not?” mj narrows her own eyes at peter from the other end of his bench. she’s not interested in participating when the conversation is about forcing you to celebrate a holiday you don’t like.

“ooh!” betty squeals and squeezes ned’s hand. “you should make a list.” ned grins, leaning his head on hers. “genius, babe.” “a list of what?” peter furrows his eyebrows as he looks between the two of them. “what you love about y/n,” she explains, ned adding on, “stuff you do together, or you appreciate.”

“put whatever you come up with into sentences and voilà,” betty says in her best french accent. “oui oui,” ned agrees, both of them giggling. that doesn’t sound half bad. peter could manage a list about you. “thank you so much, guys. you literally just saved valentine’s day,” he confidently tucks his paper into his pocket. “it’s what we do,” ned tells him coolly.

“you never asked what i think,” mj cuts in, staring down her friends, who reluctantly meet her gaze. she pushes her bag of goldfish aside and raises an eyebrow. “mj, we know how you feel about valentine’s day.” peter presses his lips together. “y/n feels the same way,” mj reminds him dryly.

it’s true, but he doesn’t want to hear that right now. he’s having a breakthrough.

like clockwork, you appear at the table. you slip into the spot next to peter and put down your lunch tray. “what’d i miss?” you comment on the obvious tension, eyeing betty for an explanation. mj gives it to you. “valentine’s day discourse,” she tells you knowingly. peter shifts in his seat, uncomfortable, like he’s been caught doing something he isn’t supposed to.

he technically has.

“yuck,” you murmur, winding your arms around peter’s neck. “yuck, yuck, yuck.” he finds your words ironic because you then kiss his cheek, and peck his lips when he turns his head. peter puts a hand on your side and lets his eyes go up and down your face. a smile spreads across it, which he returns without thinking about. mj huffs in disapproval. she’s seen enough pda.

-

peter makes his list later that night. he decided he isn’t being inauthentic because he’s coming up with everything himself. he breezes right through it, jotting down what he loves most about you across the paper. it’s a mess. scribbled out misspellings and shreds of eraser, single words and whole phrases covering both sides. he’s proud of his actual progress.

he’ll write the official letter tomorrow since you’re coming over tonight. he at least has his material. the next, thankfully final, step is to reword it.

you’re ranting to peter about some drama with one of your teachers. he listens intently as always, chuckling when you crack jokes and grinning the entire time, feeling so lucky to have the most passionate, say whatever is on her mind girlfriend ever. seriously, it’s inspiring to watch.

“no, like, i never know what’s going on in that class,” you snort, peter snaking his arms around your middle from behind. “because you don’t pay attention,” he hums with his face nuzzled into the back of your neck. “because it doesn’t make any sense!” you defend yourself. his lips brush against your bare skin, drawing a giggle out of you.

“back to what i was saying,” your voice drips with sarcasm. the two of you naturally gravitate to his room, you walking in first. “she called on me, and i- what’s this?” you escape peter’s arms and head over to his desk. crap, he was working on your valentine and forgot to put it away. it caught your attention because it’s surrounded by crumpled papers and glitter.

peter was... experimenting... with designs for the front of the card. he’s learned that he isn’t too artistic either.

“wait, don’t read that,“ peter tries, but you’ve already got the list in your hands. he anxiously sucks his lower lip into his mouth and comes to stand next to you.

you first see the ‘dear y/n,’ then focus in on a few other words. my person forever, which makes you coo at the paper. insane (in the best way), which makes you gasp dramatically. i know you don’t like valentine’s day, but...

you drop the card back on the desk and let out a breath, shutting your eyes as irritation creeps in. it wouldn’t be fair for you to be mad at peter because it’s a sweet gesture, it really is. just, not for you personally. you’re on opposite sides of the valentine’s spectrum. you despise it, he sort of loves it. you’d hoped to meet somewhere in the middle.

“i thought we said no gifts,” you keep your voice level and spin around to look at peter. his face is painted with guilt. “it’s a card,” he murmurs, then meets your eyes with his brows knitted together. “i can’t even give you a card?” “i mean...” you shrug and shake your head. “look, peter. we had an agreement. i’m not doing valentine’s day.”

his disappointment comes out in the form of hanging his head. “yeah, you’re right. sorry.”

may tried to tell him this would happen, mj tried to tell him, and now you��re telling him. he should’ve expected it. he isn’t sure why he’s being so mopey about it because he was fully aware of your hatred for anything with the word valentine in it. it still hurts. peter just wishes you’d let him have the one day to love you and only you, give you some special attention.

“it’s nothing against you, babe,” you reassure him, noticing the shift in his mood. you put a hand on his shoulder. “i really just don’t like valentine’s day. it feels so... fake to me.” peter musters up a smile that doesn’t meet his eyes. it drops when you loop your arms around his torso.

“if i celebrated, you’d be the first person i’d wanna spend it with.” you punctuate your words with a kiss to his cheek. he rests his chin on your head, you nuzzling your own cheek into his sweater. he’s feeling a bit better now. it’s not about him, that’s what he needs to remind himself. “thanks, baby,” peter speaks lowly into the air. you hum as if to say no problem.

scratch literally everything he’s done.

-

peter rolls over in his bed, rubbing at his eyes as his alarm goes off. it’s today. happy valentine’s day to... himself. he doesn’t think you’d want to hear it.

he’s not as broken up about everything as the other day. you have your reasons for not celebrating, and peter accepts them. hey, he still gets to spend the whole day with you. you’re technically having an unspoken valentine’s date.

he gets up from his bed with a yawn and starts to dig through his drawers for an outfit. you should be over soon.

before you head over to peter’s, you decide to make a quick stop at cvs for a few things. you ended up feeling pretty terrible about snapping on him essentially for loving you. it was over a harmless valentine, something to make you feel good and be an outlet for the hundreds of romantic bones in his body. basically, you were bitter about having a thoughtful boyfriend.

you want to make it up to him by giving him gifts instead. you’ll never be down with the whole exploitive and capitalistic side of valentine’s day, but there’s a deeper meaning to it than what you give it credit for. you see that now. peter was able to show his love for you through a homemade mess of a card, and you felt it. the price tags don’t matter. the meaning does.

dressed in his nicest sweater with his hair all styled, peter answers your knocking at his door. a grin instantly paints his face as he takes you in. you’re bundled up in a coat and holding a bag by your side. “hey,” he greets you and lets you past him. you shut the door behind him, returning the smile and winding an arm around his neck for a hug. his drapes around your back.

“hey. happy valentine’s day.” “happy valentine’s-“ peter realizes what he’s about to say and what you just said, then stops himself. “what?” he breaks the hug, squinting at your odd behavior. you’re the last person he’d expected to hear that from. “it’s valentine’s day. so, happy valentine’s day,” you tell him like it’s nothing.

he stays quiet while you shrug off your coat and throw it over one of the kitchen chairs. you bring your bag along with you, peter following you in. he’s suspicious. intrigued, and suspicious. it’s been less than a day since he last say you. you had a change of heart that fast? you aren’t the biggest valentine’s day anti he knows anymore?

“where’s may?” you wonder aloud, taking both of peter’s hands in your now free ones. he eyes the shopping bag you put down while you lace your fingers together. “with happy. they’re getting brunch.” he’s never particularly psyched to talk about their relationship. it’s always been in a joking way, though. now, he sounds genuinely upset to go over may’s whereabouts.

“they’re so cute,” you comment, tugging on peter’s hands so he looks at you. “you good?” “great,” peter half lies and nods, then presses a reassuring kiss to your cheek. he’s not bad. puzzled is the word. what you say next only adds to it.

“good. i have a few things for you,” you beam at him and grab your shopping bag off the chair. that’s what that’s for? peter isn’t fully sure what you’re up to. it doesn’t stop a smile from stretching across his lips, though.

“what happened to no presents?” he tests you as you reach into the bag. “well, i feel bad about how i acted the other day.” you pull out a heart shaped box of chocolates. “the card was really sweet, and i was too caught off guard to appreciate it. i’m sorry, pete.” peter’s eyes twinkle at you, gazing as you give him a smile with a hint of shyness behind it. you’re leaving your comfort zone and entering his.

“i was wrong and cynical and just, yeah. happy valentine’s day,” you add on and shove the box into his hand. he finally grins, so wide and then lets out a breathy laugh. “thanks, y/n. i know it was probably hard to shop being surrounded by this stuff.” he holds up the box. he’s right. you’ll unfortunately be seeing pink and red for weeks. “it was, but i did it for you.” you happily open up your arms for him.

peter puts down the chocolates and pulls you into his arms, his cheek squished against the side of your head as he hugs you to his chest. “oh my god, i love you so much,” he mumbles out, you squeezing him in response. “i love you, pete.” you press a quick kiss to his neck and hold him at arm’s length so you can see him. “i have something else for you.”

“baby,” peter coos, a pout on his lips. “you don’t have to do all of this. i would’ve been fine without the chocolates, even.” “stop, you deserve it,” you shut down the part of him that’s way too nice and selfless. “you’re my real present,” he says lower and with a toothy smile. shaking your head, you reach behind you and into the bag.

he can’t believe you’ve switched stances on valentine’s day. you’re the present pusher, and he’s refusing them. peter thinks it’s some sort of miracle that you’re not only acknowledging the holiday, you’re also partaking in it. his hopeless romantic side tells him it’s actually love, and it is. that’s the cheesy, hallmark movie truth. you suffered through shopping at a heart themed cvs because you love him. simple.

you return with a pink envelope that you place into peter’s hand. his face softens as he closes his fingers around it. “y/n, you made me a card?” “kind of,” you laugh at his overstatement. it’s obviously pre-made. you’d used a pen to fill it out in the store, scribbled a few words and tucked it into the envelope.

“it really doesn’t compare to yours, though,” you simultaneously warn and compliment him. peter dismisses you with a lighthearted click of his tongue. “oh, shush. that was only a rough draft.” “which proves my point even more. open it.” you grip onto the bottom of his sweater and grin.

he keeps his eyes on you while ripping open the envelope, then looks down and chuckles at the gag of the card. it has r2d2 and r4d4 from star wars on the front. inside is already written, “r4 is red and r2 is blue. if i was the force then i’d be with you.” you giggle to yourself, watching him read what you wrote next. i love you more every day, especially on valentine’s. xo, y/n.

peter holds the card to his side and slings an arm around your waist. “they make star wars valentines?” he murmurs, another smile breaking out on his face, one that you of course return. you use his sweater to pull him closer. “apparently. perfect for you.” peter tosses the card down next to the chocolates, both arms now holding you.

“thank you so much, baby. you’re an angel,” he sighs and pecks your lips after. “call me cupid,” you answer.

you give him a longer kiss back, tilting your head up to deepen it. your hands find their place on his biceps, earning a hum from peter as he moves his lips against yours. you can feel his love in every little movement, how he hugs your waist like you’re made of glass, rests his forehead against yours. when your lips mutually detach, peter speaks first, voice slightly husky.

“happy valentine’s day, cupid.”

you breathe out, peter closing his eyes in content.

“happy valentine’s day, r2.”

[slyttherins]

Meeting the Weasleys | Bill Weasley x Reader

Summary: The reconstitution of the Order of the Phoenix bring Bill back to England to help his family and others fight against Voldemort. Bill takes you along and you meet his family...who has no idea he has a girlfriend

Pairing: Bill Weasley x Reader

Word count: 1880

-

Muggle transport sucked. Especially planes. Fascinating transportation system, but why must they take so long to get to places? Portkeys were much faster.

Usually, when going to his family home, Bill would use a portkey to the Burrow, but as the Weasleys had temporarily moved to the new Order of the Phoenix's headquarters, there was no point going there. There was also no portkey available to Grimmauld Place since it was a secret house.

A plane was the only option.

''You didn't tell your family you wouldn't be coming alone?!''

Bill slung his satchel bag over his shoulder, thankful for the extension charm. ''Erm, no. I wasn't going to announce to them that I have a girlfriend through a letter, it doesn't sound really serious.''

For that, he wasn't wrong.

''We can't just show up together on the doorstep, Bill.''

Suddenly, you started re-evaluating your decision to come to England and think it was a bad idea. It's not like you and Bill were old friends. You had never met his family. What if his mom was angry for not warning her he was bringing his girlfriend? Would this put you on her bad side?

Bill shrugged, seeing no issues. ''Why not? Mom won't mind. She'll be so happy to see me that she'll forget to be mad for not telling her about you. It'll be fine, Y/N.''

As you expected, it didn't go like Bill had planned. He was a fool to think he could trick his mother like that. Molly was furious.

At first, she was confused. Then, she thought Bill had brought a friend to help with the Order - they could always use more wizards and witches on their side. But, when he introduced you as his girlfriend, her mood changed and she started scolding his oldest for not telling her something so important - even swatted his arm with the spoon she was holding. Ouch.

Bill too had been surprised by his mother's reaction, having not been talked to in that tone since his teenage years.

''William Arthur Weasley, how could you do that? You disappear in Egypt for six years and come back with a surprise girlfriend and expect me to not get mad and act as if it's nothing important? How long have you been hiding this from us? I'm your mother, how could you hide this from me?'' her voice boomed through Grimmauld Place. It was like getting a real-life howler. Pretty scary.

Once Mrs. Weasley was finished, she turned to you, her facial expression completely changed, and smiled warmly. ''Sorry about that, dear. Some people have no manners and assumes they can't be scolded after leaving the nest.'' She narrowed her eyes at Bill. ''I'm Molly, Bill's mother...but I'm sure you've caught that already. What's your name?''

''Y/N,'' you introduced. ''I'm sorry for coming unnoticed. I kept telling Bill it wasn't a great idea.''

''Don't feel bad, it's all forgiven.'' The plump woman smiled warmly at you. ''Would you like some biscuits? I just took a batch out of the oven.''

.

After eating some biscuits in the kitchen and chatting a bit with Mrs. Weasley - Bill was trying to be forgiven -, you and Bill took your luggages upstairs and went to put everything away. There weren't a lot of rooms left - a lot of members of the Order had taken residency at Grimmauld Place -, but Mrs. Weasley had kept one for Bill. Ron was supposed to share with him, but now that you were there, Ron was going to have to move rooms. Sorry, Ron.

''I didn't think she would be that angry. If I has known, I-''

''Angry? She was furious, William!'' you interrupted as you entered the bedroom, finding it a complete mess. There was a trunk opened in the corner, quidditch magazines and wrappers on the nightstand, and dirty clothes everywhere. Bill's little brother was a messy person.

With a few whisks of his wand, Bill gathered Ron's stuff and put everything in his trunk - dirty or not - to make room for yours. In the end, the trunk struggled to fit everything, but with a little bit of magic, everything was possible. It might explode when Ron will open it, but it wouldn't be your problem then.

''I guess I overestimated myself.''

You started with your clothes, folding them neatly in the chest drawers and hung the jackets in the small wardrobe. There was an old smell floating in the room, but it was inevitable in a house this old.

While you did that, Bill reached for the toiletries items, frowning confusedly when he saw how many bottles of who-knows-what you had brought. What were they all for? Did you really need all of those?

''I...I thought she was going to hate] me because of that,'' you admitted, genuinely scared you were going to be one of those girlfriends that's hated by her future in-laws. All because Bill omitted to tell his mother about you.

Bill huffed a short laugh, but seeing how you were genuinely worried of so, he turned into a serious face and he came up to you, wrapping his arms around you from behind. ''That's very unlikely,'' he said, turning you around in his hold and tilting your chin up. ''My mom has no hatred in her body - except for the ones who harm her children. I promise she doesn't hate you.'' Bill kissed your temple, but his speech didn't convince you completely.

''Well, she was yelling. To me, yelling is not something positive.''

''At me. She was yelling at me,'' he corrected. ''But then, she offered you biscuits, didn't she?''

''She did.''

Food was how Molly showed affection and care. She loved to cook all sorts of meals and desserts to feed the ones she loved. If you were particularly kind with her, she might cook your favorite dish at supper.

''Let's finish unpacking so I can introduce you to the rest of the family.''

You nodded and slipped out of your boyfriend's hold. Hopefully it'll go better, this time.

.

When you left the bedroom, you ran into two boys of the same height and physique, which you recognized as the infamous twins. Bill had told you about all members of his family on the plane journey, but telling apart who was who was another story though.

They both hugged their brother - who was almost as tall as them -, having not seen each other in a while and, when Bill introduced you, they looked shocked.

''Girlfriend?'' Fred repeated, sounding surprised. He glanced at you mischievously. ''Have you slipped him a love potion?''

It was all jokes, but you didn't know their humor so you took him seriously.

''Excuse me?'' You were offended that they could think you did something like that. Slipping someone a love potion was vile and immoral. Plus, love potions only created infatuation, not love.

Beside you, Bill rolled his eyes and laughed lightly, which told you they were only joking. ''Is it that difficult to believe that I got a girlfriend? Last time I heard, you all agreed I was the coolest brother of the lot.''

''The coolest, perhaps, but not the most skilled in the flirting departement,'' Fred teased. ''I think I deserve that title.''

''It's just, our brother never brought a girl home before,'' George explained to you, feeling sorry for the misunderstanding. ''How did mom take it? Her oldest son taking a girl home, she must've been emotional.''

''She was thrilled-''

Thrilled wasn't the word you would've employed.

''He's lying. She hit him with a spoon,'' you corrected.

Bill nudged you. ''Y/N! You're supposed to be on my side.''

You shrugged.

''A spoon?'' Fred and George chorused. ''I thought it was only us who got the spoon.''

.

Next was Ginny and Ron, which you met at the dinner table.

Although she was the youngest, Ginny was the closest to Bill. There was a special bond between the two that made you smile fondly.

Farther into the kitchen, another ginger haired boy stood on his mother's heels, trying to steal something to eat. Upon hearing Bill's voice, he turned and joined his sister, but didn't fail to give you a confused look, having never seen you before. If he had, he would've remembered.

''Who are you?'' He took a bite of the bread he stole and Ginny elbowed him for being rude.

In response to Ron's question, Bill slid an arm behind you, grin on his lips and raised his eyebrows, waiting for his siblings to catch on. Since knowing him, you had learned that the eldest Weasley didn't like to make a big deal out of any news - counting having a girlfriend.

It didn't take long for a wide smile to spread on Ginny's face. ''Oh my Godrick! I was not expecting this when you said you were coming home. I'm so happy for you,'' she told Bill and then turned to you and introduced herself - although you already knew her name - and kindly asked for yours. ''Finally, I will no longer be the only girl among those boys. Why have you kept her a secret?''

''I did not-''

Ginny gave her brother a look. ''You didn't tell us. It's the same thing.''

''Maybe he didn't want you to steal her from him,'' Ron joked, making fun of his sister's excitement.

Ginny glared at him, about to say something back, but before she could, Molly called out that dinner was ready. A loud crack echoed and Fred and George aparated in the kitchen, sneaking on Molly and making her yelp.

''Just because you're allowed to do that doesn't mean you-''

''Do you need help, Mrs. Weasley?'' you offered.

Although Bill had promised his mother didn't hate you, being helpful would surely get you on her good side.

Molly smiled at you, thankful for the help. ''That would be very appreciated, dear. You take the soup and bread to the table. Don't forget to place a cloth underneath the stockpot or else it'll burn the wood of the table.''

You nodded and got to business.

While you were helping Molly, two men arrived in the kitchen. One of them had dark curly hair and the other had a walking stick. They introduced themself as Sirius Black and Remus Lupin. You had heard of the former in the newspaper, but didn't dare ask questions. You simply smiled at him politely.

''Where are the others?'' you asked Bill when you sat down beside him, looking at the kitchen's entrance thinking two more Weasleys would come in. ''I thought you had five brothers.''

''Charlie is in Romania working with dragons and Percy,'' Ginny paused, glancing at their mom in the kitchen, taking something out of the oven. ''He doesn't live with us anymore.''

Ginny didn't need to say more for you to sense that Percy was a sensitive subject for the family. Especially to Molly. You felt like there was more to it than him moving out, but didn't dare ask as it wasn't your businesses.

Thankfully, the subject was dropped fast enough and Ron and Fred started arguing about who would get the ladle first, only for Ginny to roll her eyes and take it before them. Once she was done, she gave it to you to purposely annoy her brothers, which got a complaint from Ron.

''It was my turn!''

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

My dearest bouncey! I have a prompt for you if you like: Witchers as a 90s/2000s boyband 😂🤷‍♀️💖💖💖

Ellie, darling, this started as 500 words and turned into like 3.2k words and also a piece of art so... thank you so much. also shout out to my amazing art pal @mawbwehownets for the little comic!!

this contains lots of 90′s/early 2000′s nostalgia so there is also that

tw: hornyish, smooching, perilous music video situations (corny)

---

“Do I have to?” Geralt groans, letting his forehead thud down against the linoleum surface of their tour bus’s shitty dining table.

“Yes,” Vesemir says. His tone leaves no room for argument or whining. “But what if I let you pick the winner personally?”

“There have to be like fifteen thousand letters to go through! How will I manage that in less than two days?”

“There were a few more than fifteen thousand applications, Geralt. There were probably closer to five hundred thousand.”

Lambert wolf whistles and Aiden claps.

Geralt grimaces and keeps his face hidden against the table, releasing a slightly muffled: “Fuck.”

“Language,” Vesemir frowns. He tugs gently at Geralt’s loose ponytail and the singer lifts his head up from the table again, looking at his manager with beseeching eyes. “Anyway, we’ve narrowed it down to about fifty. You can go through those and choose whichever person you’d like to play your love interest. But you have to give me an answer by Friday. The shoot is in three weeks and whoever wins this stupid competition will need time to make arrangements.”

“I thought we were footing the bill for their food and their hotel room,” Geralt raised an eyebrow. “What would they need to arrange?”

“Not everyone can board their pets at the flick of a wrist, dude,” Lambert scoffs from his seat on the couch. Aiden lies draped across his lap, as usual, and the two of them are halfheartedly watching The Lion King. They can only watch movies when the bus is stationary, otherwise the VHS player might move too much while running and damage the film inside the cassette. Even taking advantage of such a rare opportunity, Lambert and Aiden still seem more interested in each other than Jonathan Taylor Thomas’s voice acting. 

“Lambert has a point,” Vesemir sighs. He scrubs his hand over his lightly whiskered face like a tired grandparent and sighs again, more heavily. “It’ll be good for you boys to have a normal person around for a few days. Maybe they’ll be able to put some things into perspective.”

Geralt can only roll his eyes a little bit and thank his manager regardless of his own feelings; he and the rest of TW5 owe the seasoned musical expert their entire careers. Without Vesemir’s help and mentorship they would never have made it past their first disastrous record deal. They certainly wouldn’t have reached the heights they’re at now, enjoying international fame and recognition. 

The begrudging frontman accepts a heavy plastic bin of file folders from Vesemir and sets them down next to his bunk. “Are these organized in any particular way?”

“Nope.”

“Cool.”

Geralt digs his hand into the pile and pulls out a piece of pale-pink stationary, eager to get started and, by extension, get finished. He can already tell that it’s going to be a long couple of days.

---

“I want this one, please, Ves.”

“Huh?” Vesemir looks up from his palm-pilot. Geralt is standing in front of him and trying to hand him something. 

“I want this guy to be in the music video with me.” Geralt holds out the letter again, fingers trapping the accompanying polaroid headshot with great care. A pair of bright blue eyes stares up from the photo, highlighting the subject’s bright smile and unruly mop of messy brown hair. Vesemir tries to hide his amusement; totally Geralt’s type, if the big oaf could admit to having one.

“Alright. I’ll get everything in order. We start shooting in two and a half weeks so get your asses to the gym, please.”

“Yes, Ves,” all five young men chorus. 

“Tomorrow,” Coen mutters a moment later than everyone else, not glancing up from his composition notebook. Vesemir nods in understanding. Coen is the best lyricist of the lot and it’s easier to let him work when inspiration strikes than beg him to focus when he can’t get a solitary idea to stick.

“So why’d you pick that one, Ger-bear?” Lambert drawls. Aiden nods and leans against Lambert’s side. Geralt can’t help the mild jealousy that overtakes him every time he sees his bandmates touch each other with such casual affection. He wants that intimacy, that softness behind the veneer of famous indifference. He wants someone to hold. 

“Yeah. What drew your attention to that poor unfortunate soul. Was it the floppy hair, the big blue eyes, or the dopey grin?” Aiden smirks.

“Hmm.”

“Fuck you,” Eskel sighs, looking between the two troublemakers with the tired gaze of an eldest sibling, “Fuck you for even asking in the first place and expecting a straight answer.”

“Straight is the furthest thing from his answer,” Lambert chuckles. He is promptly smacked in the head with one of the couch’s hideous throw pillows. The youngest member of the band rubs the side of his face and chuckles, “Alright, I deserved that one.”

---

“Holy shit!” Jaskier practically screams. “Holy motherfucking shit!”

“What!?” Yennefer comes flying around the corner. “What’s wrong!?”

“Nothing is wrong, Yenna! Everything is awesome! Everything absolutely fucking rocks!”

“Did you get hit on the head by a falling branch between here and the mailbox or what? You were whining about your finals work not five min-”

“Look at this!” Jaskier shoves an open envelope into her hands and cuts her off. Yennefer reads the watermarked documents once. Twice. Her eyes almost pop out of her head when the words and their meanings finally sink in. 

“Are you fucking with me right now?”

“No, I am absolutely not!” her giddy roommate cheers, bouncing up and down in place. “I did it! I won!”

“Holy shit.”

“I know! I get to kiss Geralt deRiv!” he practically cackles. Then freezes. “Holy fuck I get to kiss Geralt deRiv.”

“You said that already,” Yen teases. She shoves the paperwork back into his hands and grabs a takeout menu from the junk drawer near her hip. “Since you won the makeout lottery, you get to buy lunch. Lucky bastard.”

---

“So this will be your dressing room,” someone’s underpaid PA says, ushering Jaskier into a small, bright room. “Priscilla will be here shortly to get you into hair and makeup.”

“Oh, uh- thanks!”

“Yup.”

And with that, the young man disappears back down the hallway toward the sound stage. Jaskier jogs his leg anxiously as he waits for Priscilla to arrive, nervous and otherwise totally alone in the huge grey building. As the minutes tick by and his heart rate rises, Jaskier’s intrusive thoughts make an unwanted appearance: What if they forget about me being here? What if there’s been a mistake and they accidentally hired two love interests and I just sit in here for hours all alone while-

“Hi!” a bright, peppy blonde woman flies through the door and startles him back to reality. “Nice to meet you, I’m Priscilla! You can call me Priss; I’ll be doing your hair and makeup for the video this week!”

“Oh… hi. I’m Julian, but I prefer Jaskier.”

“Lovely! Well, Jaskier, is your hair naturally this color?”

“Y-Yes?”

“Perfect! I don’t want to mess with such a lovely shade of natural brown, but do you mind if I give it a bit of a trim? I have a few ideas for styles right here in my book- How do you feel about some feathering back here? I think-” she fluffs a few of the hairs around the nape of Jaskier’s neck “-I could really bring out the curls if I adjusted the length a bit and used some product.”

“Just, uhm, go for it, then! Feel free to make me as pretty as possible!” Jaskier declares. He’s committing to this experience wholeheartedly, determined to allow himself every opportunity for positive change. He wants to really let himself enjoy it, and he needs a haircut anyway. Priscilla spends an hour washing, cutting, drying, and styling his hair into a lovely fringed sweep across his forehead. It ends just above his brows, giving his face a slightly softer shape than usual. He grins over his shoulder, “I love it! I’m going to miss you when I’m back at Oxenfurt. Good stylists are so hard to find.”

Priss blushes and nudges against his shoulder, “Oh, you little charmer.”

“I mean it,” he says, examining himself in the mirror. “I look like I could really be worthy of a heroic rescue! This is going to be such a fantastic memory, and I appreciate it. Thank you so much.”

Priss bites back a genuine tear and smiles, “Now that your natural prettiness has been mildly enhanced, let’s get you over to wardrobe, shall we?”

“Wardrobe? Do I have, like, a costume? What’s the music video even about?”

“They didn’t tell you any of this when you got here?”

“Not… not really.”

“Well, my darling, I think you’re really going to like it; they’ve got you in Versace for the first scene.”

“Versace!?” 

Then Jaskier is being ushered into a bright, colorful room full to bursting with grim-faced, middle-aged women and he loses track of his only braincell for the rest of the morning.

---

“You must be Julian!” Lambert declares, bounding up to him and grinning. It’s a feral, animalistic grin and Jaskier resists the sudden urge to take a step back.

“I prefer Jaskier, if you don’t mind too much,” Jaskier corrects him quietly. Lambert rolls his eyes in a long-suffering kind of way and throws a meaty arm around the shorter man’s shoulders, completely ignoring the wardrobe technician’s wincing as he wrinkles the expensive silk jacket. 

“No need to be quiet and polite around here, my dude. We’re just a bunch of rowdy idiots, aren’t we, guys?” 

“Hell yeah!” Aiden calls back. Eskel sighs like the put-upon nanny in a Victorian Redanian comedy. 

“Speak for yourself,” Coen barely lifts his frosted tips up from his book long enough to speak. Geralt is-

Holy motherfucking Britney Spears on toast.

Geralt is the hottest thing Jaskier has ever seen in his short, unfulfilled-until-right-now life. Forget Ralph Macchio. Forget Leonardo Dicaprio and Kate Winslet and Winona Ryder. This man is… Geralt deRiv is… he’s the picture of perfection. And he’s right there, standing in front of an elaborate party set with his thick, beautiful arms crossed over his chest and his eyes trained on the floor, as if willing it to swallow him whole. Jaskier realizes that he probably didn’t have any choice in the matter; maybe this was just as awkward and uncomfortable for Geralt as it was for Jaskier. 

“Ger-bear!” Lambert whoops, yanking Jaskier closer to the brooding frontman. If only he were brave enough to struggle for escape; alas. “This is your boy-toy for the week. Goes by Jaskier, apparently.”

“Nice to meet you,” Geralt manages to grunt. “How did you like the script?”

“I haven’t uh- I haven’t actually seen it?”

“Shit. Fuck. One second,” Geralt huffs, disappearing into the crowd of technicians and machinery operators and PAs. Jaskier loves him already, for real. Sure, he was pretty in the music videos and promo material, but the way he said fuck like it was the noblest word he could think of… Geralt interrupts his train of thought by coming back with a sheaf of papers clutched in his hand. He shuffle-shoves them into Jaskier’s arms immediately. “There you go.”

“Thank you!” Jaskier smiles. It’s genuine and shy, more tenuous than his usual goofy grin. He flips through the pages, glancing between the script to his expensive suit, “So I’m guessing we’re at a party for this scene? Or something?”

“This is… where we meet. This is where… you and I uh…”

Jaskier’s eyes scan the page as Geralt’s ability to speak slowly leaves him. 

Lover ENTERS LEFT, dressed to the nines. Lover adjusts their tie/boa and takes a look around the room. S/He looks sad and a little hopeful. PULL BACK to Geralt, who approaches slowly. Their eyes meet. HOLD SHOT. PULL BACK as they move towards each other. Geralt pulls Lover into his arms and they begin to dance.

“Oh, wow.”

“I hope it’s okay! If you’re not comfortable with that kind of thing we can-”

“I’ll be alright, thank you. I came here to put my acting chops to the test. Well, that and meet my favorite band, of course. Thank you again, by the way. It’s been wonderful so far and I really appreciate you allowing me to be here.”

“Allowing? Psh. Geralt ha-” Lambert is cut off by Aiden, who elbows him sharply in the side. “Ow! What the fuck, babe?”

“I knew it!” Jaskier crows, distracted. “I knew you two were an item!”

“They’re not exactly subtle.”

“They never confirm anything either,” Jaskier retorts. Geralt shrugs his acknowledgement and moves back towards the set. Jaskier follows after the taller man like a lost puppy, eyes flicking from one thing to the next, hungry for detail even in his anxiety ridden state. This is a once-in-a-lifetime experience and he doesn’t want to waste a solitary second of it. “This is incredible, really just...wow. You guys do this all the time? You get to make tiny little movies for already great songs that you get to perform for millions of adoring fans? And you get paid!?”

Geralt hadn’t ever really thought about it like that. He’d been raised in the industry. He’d signed to Kaer Morhen Records as an early teen because his mother was a member of the Board of Directors and he’d been making music ever since; an outsider’s perspective to things was… new. A little strange. “Yeah, I guess that is pretty much what we do.”

“Wow.”

“It’s not that exciting, I promise.”

“Have you ever written a fifteen page paper about the history of lute-string design and manufacturing?” 

“No.”

“Then kindly shut the fuck up about what I should consider exciting,” Jaskier grins. Geralt is immediately and irrevocably smitten. Fuck. It hasn’t even been fifteen minutes! “So, which door am I entering from?”

“Left,” Geralt points. Jaskier skips over and begins to introduce himself to the sound and lights crew. His smile seems to be as infectious as his cheer and soon the entire set crew is smiling at one another. There’s been a literal shift in the atmosphere; if he didn’t know any better, the TW5 frontman thinks Jaskier might be some kind of magical creature, because he can’t just be human. Geralt is well and truly fucked, and everyone in the band already knows.

---

“What do you think?” Jaskier asks, slipping anxiously from behind the changing screen. The Versace is gone and in its place are a pair of tight, high-waisted blue pleather pants and a billowing white shirt, which has been strategically ripped in several places to reveal slivers of the lightly tanned skin that lies beneath. He looks like he’s in desperate need of rescuing. He looks like every fantasy Geralt has ever had about the perfect guy. He looks like a fucking dream.

“Nice,” he says.

Lambert and Aiden wolf-whistle and cheer as they approach. Aiden claps twice, loudly, and shoots Jaskier a set of finger guns, “Hot damn, baby. You single? You lookin’ to mingle? Because I am bi and spoon like a Pringle.”

“First of all, babe, I love you but that was the most horrific combination of words yet known to man. Second of all, yeah, I’d dump Aiden for you for sure,” Lambert adds. Jaskier is at a total loss for words. His mouth hangs open and his breath comes in uneven little gasps for a moment.

“Uh… I- Thank you?”

“Oh god, Eskel! Eskel, he’s short circuiting, do something.”

“You absolute-” Eskel groans and makes his way over to the gathered group. He tugs Jaskier away and over to the other end of the set, where a comically huge rocket/bomb (Jaskier can’t tell) is standing at the center of a vaguely science-themed room. A laboratory, maybe? Or like, a really weird spacecraft? A hospital run by rocket scientists? It doesn’t matter, it’s the Evil Lair of the Villain and that’s where Jaskier is being held captive. “Here, Cameron and Elise will help you get set up for the next scene. I’m sorry about the boys they’re... gay?”

“I understand,” Jaskier nods sagely and Eskel relaxes. Then for comedy’s sake he adds an equally dramatic, “I too am... gay.”

The set dresser, an electrician, and a few specialists (likely a rope rigger among them) come over and tie Jaskier to the bomb/rocket/villainous mechanism, ending his conversation with Eskel, who is now in a much better mood than he was before. 

Jaskier is told to make sure his hands are crossed behind the small of his back and the director instructs him to wiggle back and forth “as convincingly as possible without actually getting loose or moving the ropes too much”. Which is manageable, he supposes. 

“Then, when the chorus comes up, we’ll get a few shots of the boys dancing in front of you,” the director continues to explain. That’s… kind weird, but okay. I’ve seen weirder. “Then we’ll do the action shots, with Geralt rescuing you. Are you okay to do the kiss, or would you rather not? We have dynamic shots with or without, so it’s totally up to you.”

“I’m fine with that,” Jaskier smiles shyly. “I consent to be smooched.”

“Adorable,” Lambert calls. Jaskier blushes and the director shoots Lambert a glare. 

“He’s already pink enough, don’t make me change my gels you little shithead!”

“Sorry, Pierre!”

“Fucking sorry my ass,” Pierre grumbles beneath his breath. Then he smiles at Jaskier. “Do something nasty to him for me, will you? Not too nasty but… just a little?”

“I’ve got your back,” Jaskier winks. 

“No plotting! Not fair!” Aiden whines.

“You have a team,” Pierre retorts. “Now I have a team.”

“Rules are rules,” Eskel sighs. “Now can we please shoot this damn video?”

“Right,” Pierre claps, getting everyone’s attention. “Places!”

---

Geralt races up the stairs, trying to keep the long sleeves of his black mesh shirt from catching on any of the set pieces. The solid black t-shirt he’s wearing underneath makes his arms and back look bulkier than normal; it’s a visual technique to make him look larger than Jaskier, whose billowing white shirt will hide how wide his shoulders actually are. Fuck, those are some nice shoulders. And the smattering of dark chest hair that peeks from the front of the college student’s shirt? Geralt wants to bury his face in it.

Okay, focus. 

He reaches the top of the set and rushes towards Jaskier, ripping the ropes from around his torso and pulling him close. He cups the back of Jaskier’s head with his upstage hand, framing the slightly smaller man for the camera and making him seem even shorter, another trick of angles and body posturing. Geralt plays Jaskier like an instrument, bending him back by placing his downstage arm around Jaskier’s waist, pressing their mouths together and holding them still for as long as it takes the director to yell, “Cut!” with a satisfied tone of voice. 

Geralt’s suspicions are confirmed when Pierre laughs and claps some more and cries, “Print it, lads! That was a one-take wonder!”

He tries to ignore the way Jaskier’s shoulders slump as if disappointed. “Good job,” he manages to say.

“You, too.” Geralt wishes he could keep a picture of Jaskier smiling in his back pocket forever. No other sight could light up the world so effortlessly. “Thanks for being gentle.”

“I’m trying to sweep you off your feet,” the singer shrugs. Jaskier wiggles his eyebrows and follows Geralt down the narrow set stairs.

“Are you, really?”

“Is it working?” Geralt asks, turning to look up at Jaskier. The student pauses to look at him and his foot catches on an uneven board. He topples forward with a short cry of surprise and seems surprised when Geralt reaches out to catch him. “Jaskier!”

“Oh my god!” Lambert races over, Aiden hot on his heels. “Are you okay, dude?”

“I’m fine,”  Jaskier laughs, a little breathless. “Just a little shocked.”

“You should take him to get a snack or something,” Eskel says, nudging his shoulder against Geralt’s. “He’s been busy all day and hasn’t even been to craft services.”

“You haven’t eaten?” Geralt asks, honestly baffled. Jaskier shakes his head, face heating once again. He wishes he could stop blushing, but Geralt’s presence seems to make it impossible. He wraps one arm around the younger man’s temptingly slender waist and leads him towards the food carts. He shoves a couple of sandwiches and a bottle of punch into Jaskier’s hands, not giving him a chance to argue. “Here, I’ll have something, too.”

“Thanks,” Jaskier smiles, understanding that he is, in turn, being understood. They sit comfortable folding chairs off to the side, food spread across their laps. Jaskier laughs and chats around his mouthfuls, pulling things from Geralt like his favorite color and his least favorite nicknames. Songs he liked and dances he disliked. 

“You made it fun again, today,” the singer smiles. “Thank you for that. I wish you could be here for every video shoot.”

“Looking for another member of the band?” Jaskier jokes, doing some half-hearted jazz hands. Geralt shakes his head and laughs. 

“I wish we were,” he sighs. “But I guess five is the magic number.”

“Makes the dances look cooler,” Jaskier nods. “I agree with whoever made that decision. I wouldn’t dare ruin the aesthetic.”

Geralt laughs again and Vesemir turns to look, honestly shocked at the volume of the sound. 

“Plus, you can’t be the frontman if there’s no front.”

“Shut up,” Geralt chuckles, still grinning broadly. 

Vesemir makes a phone call.

---

2 Weeks Later, Backstage in Kaedwen

---

“He’s been sulking like this ever since Jaskier went back to Oxenfurt,” Lambert whines. “C’mon Vesemir, do something.”

“What do you want me to do, make Geralt’s boyfriend appear out of thin air?”

“Not my boyfriend,” Geralt growls, stomping past his bandmates and manager. He can’t help but feel grumpy. Jaskier had been like the sun, bringing light and wonder to everything he touched, and without that joy around it doesn’t seem worth the extra effort to smile. So he’s been moping. 

“Fucking hell,” Vesemir sighs. “Thank goodness I thought ahead.”

“What do you mean?” Eskel asks, joining the little group in the hallway outside the dressing room. “What did you think of?”

“Three,” Vesemir smiles, glancing at his watch. “Two… One…”

“Boooooys,” echoes a high tenor. “Where’s my welcome wagon, Vesemir?”

“Jaskier!” Aiden practically screams, leaping out of the dressing room and flying down the hall. Lambert follows at a sprint and Vesemir hears the resounding oof oh fuck of both giddy musicians hitting their mark. 

Geralt comes back down the hall at a jog, eyes searching frantically. “I thought I heard-”

“Geralt!”

Vesemir’s heart clenches in his chest at the way Geralt’s face lights up. At the end of the hallway, surrounded by spilled luggage and apologetic boyband members, is Jaskier. Geralt floats to him, it seems, like he’s dreaming the whole thing. Jaskier takes his hands and then releases them and wraps his arms low around Geralt’s hips instead. 

“I missed you the most,” he whispers, just for Geralt to hear. “Couldn’t sleep without listening to your CD. I know it’s silly but I really like you.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt whispers reverently into his shaggy brown hair. “What are you doing here?”

“I was going to do my thesis on pop culture’s relation to music history,” he says. “And then the manager of TW5 called Oxenfurt and offered me the opportunity to do some… first hand research while I worked on finishing the paper.”

“R-Really? You’re going to be here… every day?”

“Do you… do you not want me he-”

Geralt kisses him before he can even finish the question. It’s a stupid question anyway, of course Geralt wants him here. Wants him right here, kissing him silly. The singer presses his lips desperately, crushingly against Jaskier’s; he never wants to part from this man again. He never wants to be without that glorious laughter and contagious liveliness. Who knew that life could be so full of delight and happiness if he only let it? 

He kisses Jaskier for all he’s worth and more, pouring his heart and soul into it. When they pull apart, both gasping for air, Geralt asks, “Stay with me, Jaskier? You don’t have to do anything I just-”

“I’d love to be the big spoon,” Jaskier winks, whispering again. “Thank you, Geralt, for the rescue.”

[codename-adler]

foxes + onesies (8/9)

based off of that one post i saw and don’t remember, where people once caught Allison wandering around Fox Tower in a giraffe onesie, and i absolutely melted for her. here is the Foxes’ journey to getting a onesie each!

Aaron

TW: mentions of hospitalization and drugs, implications of abuse, mental illness and murder

Aaron tries very hard

that phrase alone could very well sum up his existence

he tries to be a good student

he tries to be a good backliner

he tries to be a good teammate

he tries to be a good person

he tries to be a go- he tries to be a brother

he tries so, so hard

but life is harder

he’d tried being a good son, and failed

his mother was dead, and died hating him

he’d tried being a good boyfriend, and failed

Katelyn was gone, and left him crying

so Aaron was trying, and now?

he was trying to find himself, to grow, to heal…

which was very, very difficult when in counselling sessions with your just-as-traumatized twin brother

they’d both worked through Andrew and Neil’s non-relationship, and through Aaron and Katelyn’s fallout

Aaron had expected it to be the other way around

turns out that while he thought Katelyn deserved better, she thought he deserved better too

she had her own demons to deal with too, in the end

and so while everyone pretty much expected Aaron’s demons to be too big for Katelyn, it was hers that had been too much for the both of them

he couldn’t reach her, couldn’t get through to her, couldn’t help her

one fateful night, she had asked him, sobbing and breathless, to make the call

the call to take her away, the call to save her from herself

the paramedics had put her on a gurney, and they had said their goodbyes

I’m sorry Aaron… I’m so sorry, I wanted to be strong for you… I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I’m so scared… It hurts so much, Aaron… I’m sorry… Please take care of yourself, baby, please… I’m sorry…

she was wheeled away, and hadn’t seen her in a year since

they corresponded, though

4 months into her admission at a private psychiatric hospital, she had sent him a handwritten letter

she had told him about her routine, her new friendships, her therapists…

she’d told him about the work she was doing on herself, about the traumas she had been too ashamed to share with him…

after the fifth or sixth letter, Aaron had started responding

he never told anyone

until this week

he’d lost count of how many letters he’d received from her, and how many he’d sent her back

but this letter…

this one was different

this one broke his heart so much, that he walked out of his dorm, the letter still clutched in one hand, grabbed Andrew on his way out of Fox Tower, and made him drive to Betsy’s office

without a single word

Betsy was surprised, to say the least, to see Aaron entering first, distress in his eyes, and Andrew following close behind, clueless

Aaron handed Betsy the letter, sat down, elbows on his knees, head in his hands, eyes closed

Bee: Correct me if I’m wrong, Aaron, but from what I understand of the situation, you would like to share this with Andrew?

Aaron: And with you. Bee.

Bee: That is very generous of you Aaron. And brave. Would you like me to read the letter out loud?

Aaron nodded, never looking up

My dear Aaron,

What I’m about to tell you in this letter is very different from our usual correspondence. You know I’ve been working on things since the beginning of my hospitalization. Big things. Ugly things. But important things. And you are not a thing, Aaron, but you are important. You were forced to play a role in the mess that was my life, but that role saved me. From myself. You made the tough call, you took it upon yourself to protect me, even if it meant putting me away and losing me. Losing us.

I’m not so good with spoken words, and I feel safe here, in this bubble we’ve created for ourselves. But I would like you to believe me when I say that the words I’m about to tell you, I would repeat them to you outloud for the rest of my life if it could make amends for what I’ve put you through. One word from you and I would come in person to tell you how much I mean them.

I am grateful for you, Aaron Minyard.

I am eternally thankful that you have crossed the path of my life. You have helped me in more ways than you know, in more ways that I could possibly imagine. It’s so important that you know that, Aaron. It’s important to me, because you deserve to know, and you deserve the recognition. Because I know you don’t think much of yourself. Because I know you think this was all your fault. Because I know you, a little bit, at least. You did the best you could with what you had, and it was enough, Aaron. You cared for me when you didn’t have to, when you couldn’t, when you were going through it yourself, and I can’t thank you enough. But I can try. So here it is: Thank you, Aaron. Thank you. For everything. You were amazing.

However, there is another thing I need to say. A harder thing. But I must take responsibility for my actions, for both my sake and yours. You need to know. You need to know.

I am sorry, Aaron. I am sorry that you had to make that call. I am sorry that you had to witness my breakdown. I am sorry that I had to leave like that. I am sorry that I broke your heart. I am sorry for all the pain and hardship I’ve put you through. I am sorry for all the times I’ve lashed out at you, when really I wanted to lash out at my life. I am sorry for all the times I hurt you, when really I wanted to hurt myself. I am sorry that you had to watch me fall like that. I am sorry that you had to pick up the pieces alone, that you had to get back up alone. I am sorry for all the times I’ve said cruel things just to be mean and to hurt you, for all the grief I’ve caused you, all of it. This is my official, explicit, conscious and honest apology to you. I’m apologizing for all the wrongs I’ve done you, because it was my fault and you didn’t deserve any of it. I take full responsibility. And I am not expecting forgiveness in return. This is a no-strings-attached apology. I could apologize to you forever and still not be worthy of your forgiveness. So I won’t be waiting for it. I won’t be begging for it. This is all yours. I’m sorry, Aaron. I need you to know that. Because I know you think you deserve what happened, because I know you think it was all your fault. It wasn’t. It was mine. It is still mine. And know that I am not only apologizing in words. I will try everything in my power to make it up to you. Whatever it takes. I promise you that, Aaron.

Love,

Katelyn

as Betsy folded the letter, Aaron’s tears dripped down on the office carpet

Andrew was silent, eyes fixed on the piece of paper

Betsy waited a few minutes to let everyone soak in the moment

Bee: This is a very beautiful and heartfelt letter, Aaron. From what I understand, you and Katelyn have been writing letters since she “moved”?

Aaron nodded, still silently crying in his hands

Bee: Are your exchanges always like this?

Aaron shook his head

Bee: Okay, I see. Is this the first time a letter from her has made you cry?

another nod from Aaron

Bee: And why do you think that is?

Aaron: I don’t know…

his voice was rough from crying

Bee: Well, I think I might have an inkling, you tell me if it resonates with you. I believe, Aaron, that this is the first time someone has ever formally apologized to you, yeah? You are not someone that has grown up with that kind of care, that kind of responsibility. That kind of praise. I think you know that this is some kind of opportunity for closure, of course, but it goes deeper than that, doesn’t it? Someone cares for the wrongs they’ve done, for the hurt they’ve caused you. And you are not used to that. You are not used to being apologized to. You are not used to this type of kindness. Katelyn did not have to apologize and express her gratefulness. You didn’t expect her to. But she did. That means something to you, yeah?

Aaron’s heart broke a little more at that, before mending a little, too

he cried harder

and Andrew was watching all of this from his seat, seemingly unconcerned

he knew this wasn’t necessarily about him, that this was about Katelyn, and Aaron, and about showing Andrew that she didn’t deserve his hatred and his knives

but he did care

after he drove Aaron back to the dorms and told Kevin to watch his brother, he went for a drive

to think

he only came back once he had thought of something to do with Aaron

damn Josten for softening him

he threw Neil and Nicky out of their dorm, and went to retrieve the Stitch onesie from the back of his closet

he looked for the brand tag, looked it up online and made his purchase

he even paid for accelerated shipping

the day his order arrived, he went to the same convenience store where he’d found his precious DVD, and bought a stupid ugly postcard with a lighthouse on it

in a very neat handwriting, Andrew wrote what he had to say

he then went looking for his brother, but he didn’t have to look far

since that session with Bee, where Kevin was, Aaron usually was too

and Kevin was always at the court

but Andrew found them both sitting on the court’s floor, all geared up, yet watching something non Exy-related on Kevin’s phone

weird

that didn’t stop Andrew

he went back to the locker room, refusing to disturb the weird little thing that was going on there

he left the package and the postcard in Aaron’s locker, and left

a few hours later, as Kevin went to shower and Aaron opened his locker, Andrew’s gift was found

the postcard had slipped to the back of the locker, so Aaron retrieved the plastic bag and opened it first

he didn’t understand

it was a big, fluffy thing, bright yellow

what the fuck

it’s Pikachu

it’s a Pikachu onesie

it’s a fucking Pikachu onesie

what the fuck

he hadn’t thought about Pokemons since… well, since Tilda died

he had collected them, the cards, and the figurines

but he’d sold the toys for drug money

and he’d lost all his cards in the… accident

he’d left his three hundred-something card collection in the car, for some reason he couldn’t remember

but the crash had burnt and bloodied them all

when Nicky had adopted the twins, he had bought Aaron some new ones, but it didn’t compare… it couldn’t replace what he had lost

and now he was holding an adult-sized Pikachu one-piece pajama

he still couldn’t wrap his head around it when he found the postcard peeking from the back of his locker

he took it, his hand trembling terribly

he read the back

later, Kevin found Aaron sitting on the bench, still in his Exy uniform, smiling but crying

He’s so fucking stupid, Kevin, look at this shit

Kevin looked, indeed, at this shit

Kevin didn’t understand what he was looking at, but then Aaron handed him the postcard

Aaaron hadn’t told this story to anyone but Kevin, so he understood immediately what it said, and who wrote it

Kevin placed his big hand on the back of Aaron’s neck and squeezed a bit, an offer of comfort

he still didn’t understand what the yellow monstrosity was supposed to be, but he understood what it all meant

Aaron held the card closer to his heart than the onesie

everytime things became hard with Andrew, he wore Pikachu and he looked at the postcard

he focused on the little lighthouse, on the small, precise letters, on the ink of the pen

he focused on the words

Sorry I trashed your Pokemon cards

[greaterawarness]

ARC Training Program Ch. 2 "Starting Small"

(Here it is! I hope you like it! I made this chapter a little longer then the first. Alpha-17 starts a ARC Training Program and it isn't going well.)

Things hadn’t started out on the right foot. After the first training exercise Alpha had decided to whoop these boys into shape. He deliberately made their life hell. He woke them up at the ass crack of dawn and made them run sprints. He had them run through simulation after simulation. Even during the classroom portions, he didn’t take it easy on them. He drilled them with every scenario possible and had them copy the reg manual front to back. By the end of the first week, he had to hand it to the boys. They were resilient. Despite being exhausted and pushed to their limits every single day they still gave it their all. They showed Alpha every chance they could on why they were the best of the best. That is until they’re put into a group simulation. Then everything turns to shit.

Alpha stands at the top of the training room looking down at the eight cadets failing once again to complete a single practice battle. He growls deep in his throat before slamming his fist on the stop button. CT-7567 trips on a shutdown droid toppling over into CC-2224.

“How many times do I have to tell you to stay out of my way?” CC-2224 yells while shoving 7567. The cadet stands quickly to stand toe to toe with 2224.

“Come on, don’t fight!” CC-1004 groans from the back.

“Hey, at least he doessomething! You and CC-3636 are to concerned about tripping over each other to do anything!” CC-1010 yells from the side. He crosses his arms and leans against one of the blocks used for cover.

“Oh, right? Like you and CC-4477? You two can’t take two steps without knocking into one another.” 2224 snorts. This causes all eight boys to erupt into arguing.

“Enough!” Alpha yells down at them. They pop to attention. Alpha rubs his face tiredly. “Clean this mess up and when you’re done with that you can go and clean the refreshers!”

He hears a few groans but he’s to tired to scold them anymore. He walks away mostly because he feels like he has to. He walks into his room ignoring Fordo who sits on his couch pressed against the wall. He looks up from his datapad with an amused look on his face.

“So, how’s it going?” He asks already knowing damn well how its going. Alpha stands by his table taking deep breaths.

“I have never seen so many talented cadets in my entire life who are completely incapable of working together!” He places his hands on the table in frustration. Fordo shifts on the couch with his head turned as if thinking.

“You know,” Fordo starts, “If I remember correctly, you and I weren’t the best at teamwork when we first started out.”

“That was different.” Alpha sighs while taking a seat at the table.

“How so?”

“Because we started out being the best. We weren’t the best out of a batch. We were the best because we had to be the best. These boys aren’t used to actually working as a unit with equally competent members. They also don’t trust each other not to spit in each other’s food let alone save their life on the battlefield.” Alpha leans back in his chair. He rubs his sore neck while Fordo chuckles on the couch.

“So do some trust exercises. Remember when Jango took us diving into the waters beneath Tipoca city and we had to rely on each other to make it through the night? We were all scared shitless but none of us wanted to admit it. That was the night we finally clicked as a team.” Fordo leans forward on the couch. Alpha thinks on it for a moment.

“You want me to take those boys diving under the city?” Alpha arches a brow at him.

“With your boys? No. You’d lose all eight of them. They would still be arguing even while drowning.” Fordo gets to his feet. “I just mean something like that. Whatever version of diving it would take for your boys to finally click into being a team.”

Fordo walks out of his room leaving him with no answers. Alpha crosses his arms and stares at his table. He has to find a way to get them to work together. He pushes himself up and grabs a clipboard before walking out of his room. He finds the boys still cleaning up the practice room. He decides to analyze them one by one and start small. He begins writing notes.

CC-2224: Smart, dependable, most levelheaded of the eight. Follows orders a little to closely.

CT-7567: Brave, determined, not afraid to think outside the box. Seems to think all orders are mere suggestions.

CC-3636: quiet, quick on his feet, likes to observe from the back. Needs to learn to speak up more.

CC-1004: smart, constantly learning, not afraid to ask questions. Never seems to make the first move.

CC-1010: fast, skilled, best attention to detail I’ve ever seen. A little to smug for my liking.

CC-4477: fast learning, not afraid to make mistakes, always ready to go. Seems to have a hard time finding his own rhythm.

CC-1138: strong, intimidating, wouldn’t want to get into a fight with this one. Has anger issues and doesn’t like losing.

CC-8826:

Alpha looks up from his writing to stare at the boy as he scrubs the floors. He gets this crazy look in his eyes before aggressively scrubbing as if he were throwing punches. Alpha lets out a deep hm while writing:

That boy’s not right.

He stares at his notes while bringing a hand to his chin. Perhaps he should start small. Break them up into twos. Alpha flips on the bright lights getting the attention of the cadets. They stare up at him waiting for orders.

“All of you, front and center!” Alpha yells with his hands behind his back. The boys rush to the lift. Alpha rolls his eyes when they even fail to get on the lift without fighting each other. when they finally stand in front of him, he stands up tall. “We’re going to be doing one last exercise. Complete it and your free to have the rest of the day for yourselves.”

This makes their usual glued neutral faces expose flashes of excitement. Alpha hasn’t made it easy on them and they haven’t had any real time for themselves.

“We’re going to be doing more practice battles but this time in groups of two,” Alpha watches but their faces are back to neutral. “The rules are simple. Complete one practice battle successfully and you get the rest of the day off. Fail to complete the battle and you’ll be redoing it over and over again until you get it right. Understand?”

“Yes, sir!” They say but Alpha can sense the uneasiness.

“Alright, CC-2224 and CT-7567. You’re up first.” Alpha says. The boys eyes grow wide. It hasn’t been any secret that those two haven’t gotten along since day one. It’ll be interesting to see how it plays out when it’s just the two of them. 2224 and 7657 walk back to the lift to take themselves back down. Alpha stands with the other six curiously watching at his side.

“Just stay out of my way.” 2224 mutters before they start. Alpha can hear everything they say through their coms.

“Right, I’ll stay out of yours if you stay out of mine.” 7567 says back. Alpha shakes his head before pressing start. It first starts off well enough, but it never takes long for things to fall apart. 2224 follows the orders given to him down to the letter while 7567 focuses on his own plan. 7567 ends up ahead of 2224 leaving him stranded. Alpha frowns already seeing the end. 2224 gets surrounded and eventually shot leaving all the focus on 7567. When they both eventually come back to and the training battle is reset they make their way back up to Alpha.

“Where did they go wrong?” Alpha asks the six watching by his side.

“They left themselves completely open.” CC-1010 snorts.

“They left each other completely open.” Alpha corrects him. “7567, when an order is given, I expect you to follow it! And 2224, following orders is one thing. Never stepping outside of those orders is another. How do you expect to lead a group of men into battle when you lack the ability to think on your feet?”

The two say nothing but stare at the floor with their faces growing a few shades of red.

“Alright,” Alpha moves on. “CC-3636 and CC-1004. Your up next.”

Alpha is curious about these two. They never stand out and rarely cause any waves. He’s interested in seeing how they do when it’s just the two of them. He watches them take point down below.

“We got this!” 1004 says. 3636 doesn’t say anything. He shifts his training blaster while waiting to begin. When it does start it doesn’t look promising. They both seem entirely too timid. Their aim is good and its not that they are making bad decisions, but they lack the confidence needed to properly execute the orders given to them. They end up getting shot a lot sooner then the first two. When they make their way back to the top Alpha says again.

“Where did they go wrong?”

“They moved way to slow.” 1010 says not afraid to give his opinion.

“Alright, anyone else?” Alpha says trying to get someone else to answer.

“They lack confidence.” 2224 says still sounding down from his failed attempt with 7567.

“Exactly,” Alpha nods. “If you two ever hope to be a leader you have to have confidence in yourself. Someday lives will be on the line and you’re going to have to make the difficult decisions. There’s no time to second guess yourselves.”

“Yes, sir.” They say softly. They fall back in.

“CC-1010 and CC-4477, you’re up.” Alpha nods his chin towards the training room. He watches them make their way to the bottom.

“Just follow my lead and we’ll have the rest of the day to relax.” 1010 says. Alpha almost hopes that they will fail this one. Might do some good for CC-1010 to get knocked down to size.

“… sure.” 4477 mumbles. When they begin they start out well enough. As much as Alpha hated to admit it, they were doing good. Normally they’re tripping over each other and breaking out in fights. With the rest of the eight out of the way it gives them space to do what they need to do. They get further than any of the others. The six watching by Alpha’s side lean on the railing in excitement. Just when it seems that they’ll be the first to finish Alpha sees their mistake before it happens. 4477 has an opening to make a break for the tower. He see’s his chance and tries to take it but 1010 see’s it as well. Despite 4477’s clear advantage to the tower 1010 charges forward as if to outrun 4477 and beat him to it. This results in one of their usual headbutts and then a small brawl. Alpha stops the training before they can get shot. When they make it up to the top 1010 won’t make eye contact with anyone.

“Alright, what did these two do wrong? Aside from the fist fight at the end.” Alpha sighs.

“CC-1010 is too full of himself.” CC-8826 says. 1010 lifts his eyes to 8826 with his face burning with rage.

“He’s right,” Alpha says keeping him in his place. “CC-1010, you’re to worried about being the hero and being in the spotlight that you jeopardized the mission! And CC-4477 you can’t let people walk all over you! What are you going to do when one of your men doesn’t agree with one of your orders?”

4477 lowers his head while 1010 looks away with an angry frown. Alpha lifts a hand to rubs above his eyebrows.

“Alright, last two. You’re up.” Alpha says already knowing this will be a disaster. CC-1138 and CC-8826 are the biggest problem children. They’re both temperamental and have a competitive side like no other clone. They share no words with each other while waiting to start. Alpha crossing his arms and holds his breath during their battle.

Despite everything he’s seen about these two in the past, they’re doing better then any other group. Alpha has to keep his hand on his chin to keep his jaw from dropping. 1138 uses his brute strength to clear a path for the much faster 8826. They barely speak but seem to be on the same page with each other. Alpha thinks back to every other practice battle and how they always end up in an all-out fight. Now, watching it just be the two of them Alpha realizes it’s because they finally have an equal number of droids to destroy. Without the competition of the other cadets, they find no issue working beside each other. when they make it to the top of the tower and pull the green flag out of its post it leaves Alpha and the six other cadets speechless.

1138 holds the flag still in his hand with a blank expression while 8826 bends his legs and balls his hands into fists while letting out a victory scream. Alpha finds himself at a loss for words as the two make their way back up to them.

“You’ve got to be kidding me?” 1010 says. “Psycho and Bigger Psycho beat it first try?”

Alpha finally snaps himself out of his daze to clear his throat to silence CC-1010.

“CC-8826 and CC-1138, I’ll have to admit I wasn’t expecting any of you to succeed first try. Congratulations. You’re free to use the rest of the day as you see fit.” Alpha says. 8826 gives a smug grin while walking past the other six before turning to 1138.

“Wanna get some food?” He asks to which 1138 responds with a hm. Which Alpha can only guess means yes? Alpha shakes his head slightly to get him focused back on the matter at hand.

“Alright, we’re back to the first two. Go on.” Alpha says. he watches the last three groups fail once again. The first group fail on their third event, but the second group finally seem to be getting the hang of it. CC-3636 and CC-1004 begin to communicate and in that communication they find confidence. They’re the next group to successfully finish the practice battle. It would take a whole other round for CC-1010 and CC-4477 to start working together. CC-1010 ends up being the one who reaches the top first. Alpha still isn’t sure if its because 4477 made it that way or if that’s just how it happened. Either way he let them go. This just left CC-2224 and CT-7567.

They would try again and again only to fail over and over. It is starting to get late, so he asks Fordo to make sure the other six are in their racks asleep. When he walks back to join Alpha, he’s just in time to see the last two remaining clones fail all over again.

“They haven’t even gotten close to the tower.” Alpha shakes his head trying to hold back his anger.

“Maybe they’re a lost cause?” Fordo shrugs his shoulders. Alpha stays silent not sure if wants to agree with him or not. Fordo pats his shoulder.

“I’m heading to bed. Try not to stay up to late.” He says before walking away. Alpha watches the boys fail one more time before shutting the droids down. The two make their way up to stand in front of Alpha. They’re both dripping sweat and exhausted. They can barely hold their blasters properly anymore. Alpha lets out a long sigh.

“Boys, I’m not going to sugar coat it. This isn’t good.” Alpha starts. “Some people just aren’t cut out to be ARC troopers…”

“What? No, no we can still do this!” 2224 yells.

“He’s right! Just give us one more chance!” 7567 begs. Alpha shakes his head while rubbing the back of his neck.

“Boys, you need to realize…”

“No!” 2224 says stopping Alpha. “You said so yourself that we are the best of the best. We can prove to you that you were right! We belong here.”

“He’s right sir. I know we have our differences but though we’ve failed every single time every time I get up to do it again well, CC-2224 is right there beside me ready to go again. We’re not giving up yet!”

Alpha stares at the two cadets who were just struggling to stand up straight now at full attention with determination in their eyes. He tilts his head to the side thinking it over.

“Alright,” He says seeing the relief wash over the two. “But you have one more shot. One more! You fail this time then I have a decision to make by morning.”

“Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!” they say before running for the lift. Alpha shakes his head. They’ve never even come close to the tower. Why would this time be different? Even as he thinks this, he notices the two talking on the lift. Actual talking, not fighting. The have their helmets off so Alpha can’t listen in. when they slip their helmets on Alpha hears “Right there with you brother.” He shifts his weight to the other leg intrigued. Maybe they really mean it this time? When they appear ready, Alpha presses start.

He finds himself holding his breath. The last few tries were complete failures. They had lost all energy and could barely make it to cover in time. This time they seem to have caught a second wind. They’re still sluggish compared to their normal speeds but there’s a clear difference then the try before this. The biggest difference is the team work. They communicate with each other and don’t advance without the other. at some point they stand back to back taking down droids. Alpha lifts a hand to his chin feeling a grin spread across his face. They’ve almost made it towards the end. Alpha gives out the last set of orders and waits. Alpha feels his stomach drop when they begin to get surrounded. He shakes his head. This is it then…

Just when Alpha is ready to hit the stop button CC-2224 does something unexpected. He rushes forward throwing himself on a droid similar to the way CT-7567 has. He spins around on the thing before firing down at it stunning it. 7657 manages to take down a droid for himself. Alpha finds himself leaning against the railing when these two cadets begin using the stunned droids as shields. They begin advancing for the tower. Alpha squeezes the railing the closer they get to the top. Finally, they both throw their droid shields at the advancing droids and make a break for the top. They both grab hold of the flag and lift it into the air cheering. Alpha pulls himself together and stands tall. He watches the cadets throw their arms around each other screaming in victory.

“CC-2224 and CT-7567,” Alpha calls down. They break apart to stand at the closes thing to attention they can manage at this point. “Congratulations. You two have finally passed your practice battle. Now go hit the showers and get to bed! We got another long day of training tomorrow.”

“Sir yes sir!” They yell. Alpha chuckles to himself as he watches the two cadets laugh and playfully shove each other while making their way out of the training room.

“There’s hope for you yet, rookies.”

Read full story HERE AT AO3

[ibijau]

*chanting* sangxuan, sangxuan! because I’ve been reminded that I love that ship, have a continuation of that fic where jzx is a very repressed bi with a huge ass crush on nhs

It takes Nie Mingjue about a week to realise that there's something wrong with Nie Huaisang. The first day or two, he blames it on the shock it must be for his brother to have finally graduated from Lan Qiren's classes, and with unexpectedly high grades at that. That success must have given Nie Huaisang one of his sudden short bursts of motivation, and that's why he's suddenly attending sabre practice with the other disciple, and showing up on time for lessons. Those bursts are usually short lived, in Nie Mingjue's experience. Where the sabre is concerned, five consecutive days of hard work is his brother's record.

So on day eight, when Nie Huaisang is still showing up dutifully, still trying his best to get the movements right, Nie Mingjue becomes concerned. When the lesson is over, he asks his brother to follow him to his office so Nie Huaisang can learn how to help with something, as befits a young master of a prominent sect. Normally, this is the time of the day where Nie Huaisang likes to take time to play with his birds, something he's always particularly enthusiastic about right after returning from Gusu. But this time he follows Nie Mingjue with only the briefest of hesitations.

Slowly going from merely concerned to actively worried, Nie Mingjue decides to see how far he can push this before his brother starts acting like himself again. He gives Nie Huaisang a pile of letters to be sorted through by order of importance according to a number of criteria such as the nature of the problem, the rank of the writer, and their physical location. Night Hunting doesn't interest Nie Huaisang, so it is always a bother for him to think about creatures and remember how dangerous any of them might be. He also can't see the point of keeping track of whether a duke or a magistrate is supposed to be given more consideration. As for geography, Nie Huaisang could get lost inside his own bedroom.

And yet aside from a deep, heartfelt sigh upon being given that task, Nie Huaisang doesn't show any reaction. He just picks a chair, makes some space for himself on the side of his brother's desk, and gets to work. Nie Mingjue sits down as well, ostensibly to check some bills, but most of his attention is on his brother who is never this obedient and helpful.

“Alright, what have you done this time?” Nie Mingjue asks after a while.

Looking up from the letter he's studying, Nie Huaisang stares at him with confusion written all over his face. He could pass as perfectly innocent if Nie Mingjue didn't know him better than that.

“Did you get in trouble in Gusu before leaving?” he insists. “Or on the way home?”

“Why would you think I got in trouble?” Nie Huaisang gasps, the very picture of wounded virtue. Nie Mingjue only has to gesture at the pile of letters for his brother to drop the act. “Oh, that. Well. I've decided that I need to become a better person. I can't keep wasting my youth in frivolous pursuits. The young master of a sect must be proficient in martial arts, in cultivation, and know about running an estate. Isn't that what you're always telling me?”

“And you're never listening.”

Nie Huaisang grimaces slightly at the accusation, but nods.

“I have not always been all that I ought to be,” he sighs, rather dramatically. “But I am a changed man.”

“I'm not sure that you can call yourself a man when you're not even eighteen,”

“A changed person,” Nie Huaisang corrects without missing a beat, glaring at his brother. “I need to improve my public image, or else I'll never get to marry.”

Just like that, Nie Mingjue relaxes. Out of every reasons Nie Huaisang might have had to straighten his act, this is the least worrying one. He's the right age to start thinking about that sort of things after all, and he's apparently made a lot of friends this past year in Gusu.

“Do you have someone specific in mind?” Nie Mingjue asks, trying his best to hide his amusement.

“Maybe I do,” Nie Huaisang grumbles after just a moment of hesitation.

“Boy, girl?”

“Does it really matter? You'll let me have however I want, right?”

There's a surprising note of worry to Nie Huaisang's voice, which Nie Mingjue doesn't like in the least.

“I just ask because it'll take more work to convince the parents of your beloved if it's a boy,” he clarifies, and yet his brother doesn't relax at all. If anything, Nie Huaisang starts frowning and bites his lip. “So it's a boy, and the family is stupid about these things,” Nie Mingjue guesses.

Nie Huaisang sighs and flops over the desk, ruining his careful work with the letters.

“It's hopeless, his parents are stupid!”

“Don't badmouth your future in-laws, Huaisang.”

“It's fine, you'll agree with me when you know who it is, and how much they've messed him up.”

That's a worrying statement, but for now Nie Mingjue decides to treat it as a secondary problem. It's hardly the first time Huaisang develops a crush on someone. When he was eight, he wanted to marry Lan Xichen for a few weeks. At thirteen, he threatened to court Wen Qing who he'd seen once at a conference and to run off with her. Nie Huaisang is older and (allegedly) more mature now, but Nie Mingjue prefers to check how serious this is before calculating an auspicious date.

“Well, tell me about him then,” Nie Mingjue demands. “What unlucky bastard caught your eye this time?”

“Bastard no, definitely not,” Nie Huaisang snorts. “Unlucky... yeah. He's... well, first of all, he's handsome.”

“Goes without saying. You're too vain to settle for someone less than stunning.”

Nie Huaisang sticks out his tongue and sits back up so he can slap his brother's arm.

“Rude, very rude. Anyway, he's the most gorgeous person in the world, especially when he laughs. But he sadly doesn't laugh a lot. He's been trained out of it, I think.”

For a brief moment, Nie Mingjue wonders if his brother is in love with Lan Wangji... but no, Nie Huaisang wouldn't dare to call Lan Qiren stupid.

“He's also pretty nice, when you know him,” Nie Huaisang continues, smiling to himself. “He complains a lot, but he'd offer to study with me and he'd really try to help me. And he's serious and righteous. No matter how many times I offered to let him cheat on tests, he'd always refuse because he wanted to succeed through his own work.”

“You set the bar so low,” Nie Mingjue comments, though at least now he knows how his brother got such good grades. It's almost reassuring, in a twisted way. “Doesn't cheat on tests, somewhat nice to you... I'm not really sold on this.”

“I am,” Nie Huaisang retorts, his smile growing a little warmer. “When he looks at me, it's like he's looking at the moon and wondering how he could ever reach it. Like I'm the most incredible person in his life.”

That does sound like something that would appeal to Nie Huaisang's vanity, though Nie Mingjue wouldn't quite call it enough to get married.

“And what do you see when you look at him?”

For a moment, Nie Huaisang falls silent, his expression turning serious. Nie Mingjue is half getting scared that he's made his brother realise how shallow his feelings are, when Nie Huaisang speaks again.

“I see someone I want to make happy and to protect from everything bad,” he announces, a deep frown on his brow. “I see someone who has been hurt, and it makes me hurt as well, because he's so wonderful, and the people who hurt him are the ones who should have protected him, and it makes me so angry that something like that happened to him. I just... I just want to take him away from everyone who's ever made him feel bad about himself, and bring him somewhere safe, and hold him in my arms until he's never afraid again of what others will say about him. Is that... Is that weird?”

Coming from any other Nie, it would be normal, Nie Mingjue thinks. Their family tends to have a protective streak, even toward people who don't quite need it. It's a little odd to hear this coming from Nie Huaisang, but he is a Nie too, so it shouldn't be a surprise that he loves like one.

“So I'm guessing you want for him to marry into the family, rather than you joining theirs?” Nie Mingjue asks.

To his surprise, Nie Huaisang shakes his head.

“Won't work, his parents won't allow it. Damn, they won't be happy with it even like this. But it's... da-ge, I think I'm really in love with him,” Nie Huaisang sighs, blushing at his own confession. “I didn't mean too, it was supposed to just be a game, but I really love him. If there's got to be someone, I want it to be him.”

“Then you'll have him,” Nie Mingjue promises, like it's an evidence.

To him, it is. Their sect doesn't bother playing the game of alliances through marriages that others do. They're a little more like the Lan in that respect, even if they're not quite as ostentatious about it, and they don't bat an eye at second or even third marriages. So if Nie Huaisang has decided he wants this person, enough so that he's willing to put in effort to improve himself for over an entire week, Nie Mingjue will help him. He is weak to his brother's whims, and even weaker to his rare moments of determination.

“You don't even know who it is,” Nie Huaisang protests. “You have no idea how difficult it'll be... I really might have to run away with him and become a rogue cultivator with him, because his parents are so damn stupid! And also, I'm not sure you'd actually approve if you knew...”

“Is it one of Wen Ruohan's sons?”

The immediate grimace of disgust and betrayal on Nie Huaisang's face make it hard not to laugh.

“I told you he's handsome!” Nie Huaisang gasps. “I have taste, da-ge!”

“Aside from these two, you can marry whoever you like,” Nie Mingjue retorts. “Even other Wens if that's what you want,” he generously adds, knowing full well that there were none in Gusu, and so it's unlikely that his brother's beloved is from the sect that killed their father. Even if he were though, Nie Mingjue would do what's needed to make his brother happy, trusting him to find the one person from that sect who would have any value as a person.

Nie Huaisang is less than impressed by that statement.

“You promise?”

Maybe it really is a Wen, Nie Mingjue wonders. If so, it's too late to back off.

“I promise. Any person you want, any sect, if you say it's a decent person, if that's who you want to spend your life with, I'll do what it takes.”

“I'll hold you to that,” Nie Huaisang threatens with a cheerful smile. “I want to marry Jin Zixuan.”

Nie Mingjue stares at his brother, refusing to believe he's heard that correctly... but no, Nie Huaisang is grinning like he pulled the con of the century, that manipulative little shit. He did, in a way. However much Nie Mingjue hates Wen Ruohan and dreams of slaughtering him, at least that's someone he can somewhat respect. Jin Guangshan, on the other hand...

Nie Mingjue shivers in disgust.

Maybe a Wen would have been better after all.

[leamy-world]

Some afterthoughts on The Devil Judge (spoilers for all the drama!)

Hello everyone! I hope you’re doing well!!

I wanted to write my thoughts after the finale aired because ep. 13-14 made me a mess and were too nerve-wracking! After these two episodes, i only wanted the week to go by fast to see how the finale unfolded (but at the same time, this drama entertained me sm i didn’t want it to end haha).

Watching this drama each week and reading your reactions and thoughts made me enjoy it even more, i’m glad i came back on tumblr! It was a really nice ride (more like an emotional rollercoaster haha)! It motivated me to write my thoughts and analyses on fictions i watched in the future, especially My Mister and Beyond Evil!! I forgot how much fun it was to do that and putting my thoughts into words gave me a little closure to my watch haha

These are just some afterthoughts & personal interpretations i had and were maybe probably already discussed, but i couldn’t get them out of my head haha

See you around and take care!!!

THE CAST. It left a strong impression on me and i can’t see other actors playing their respective roles!

—   Yohan portrayed by Ji Sung … i have no words, this devil judge left me speechless! His character, to his Devilish Smile (and hollow laugh in front of CKH and his son, or Gaon), his variating voice intonations (like damn, he’s a living ASMR like Lee Sung Kyung), his held back emotions and touch-starved and even desperate touches when it came to Elijah and Gaon, to his rage and unhinged moments! 

I winced seeing him contort in pain when Sunah revealed Elijah accidentally lit the church fire, and the two times he hugged Elijah totally destroyed me. His last scene with Gaon showed how gazes & micro-expressions alone could convey unspoken words as strongly. I’m weak for these kinds of scenes, My Mister for example did it and killed me haha

For this post, i rewatched some scenes and damn, Elijah and Yohan’s support of Gaon after Soohyun’s death was really emotional …

(They had no business in making Gaon have this kind of dream, those german scissors left a ... strong impression on him haha)

—   Kim Min Jung’s depiction of Sunah’s was hauntingly beautiful, a femme fatale who kept a broken child deep inside (and at the same time surfacing on her manners and personality) and a strong businesswoman. It’s a fascinating character i loved hating as a villain but still sympathized with. The scene where she murdered the former foundation’s president sent me chills down my spine (i still have her shot of her, sitting at his bureau and manipulating his speech video)! 

The melancholy slipping through her facade when she visited the mansion the first time in a while, as well as her devastation in front of the President’s scheme, by the young girl’s bed at the hospital were memorable. The tension between her and Yohan was incredible: they both managed to keep a very disturbing but enthralling aura, tangled with nostalgia at the same time each time they met.

(Looking at her reflection is a recurring pattern for Sunah’s character, i found this shot above interesting, divided in the two ends of the mirror, as if her self can’t be found on the other side anymore)  

—   This was the first time i saw a drama with Jin Young and i really loved his playing! Never thought I’d say one day i enjoyed someone’s tears and rage on screen, but his crying scenes stuck with me, especially in the prison yard and the last episode (he deserves therapy after all he went through, really) … And his letter to Elijah … (i’m glad nobody harshly revealed the truth to her, i’m really glad!)

I loved to see how his gaze evolved through this journey with Yohan. His endearment to Soohyun, Elijah and Yohan was very precious ;; Even though Yohan was the one who was first seen feeling lonely, Gaon’s loneliness since his parents’ death slipped through his seemingly fine world, i found that interesting! (And on a lighter note, i’ll always remember the truth behind Mrs. Ji’s cooking, Gaon’s epic reaction, and the pure comedy she gets to own a healthy food shop thanks to Yohan!!) 

I also enjoyed his supportive friendship with Jinjoo!!

—   Park Gyu Young’s acting was also on point! It’s really too bad she didn’t get more screen time because i wanted to know more about Soohyun!! I felt robbed haha, because when TDJ began airing, they introduced her as one of the ‘main’ characters of this story ;; The scene when she was on CKH’s suicide scene really left a mark on me + when she was confronting Yohan, especially after she took Elijah out!

—   Elijah. Just Elijah, our best girl!!! Apparently it’s one of Jeon Chae Eun’s first roles, she did so well!! Along with Ji Sung and Jin Young, she gave a whole new definition to the Domestic Scenes, i swear. These scenes will keep a special place in my heart for a long time! Her adorable smile and cheekiness were a refresher in this show!

(They could change TDJ’s concept in a second season and make us a domestic slice of life series, i wouldn’t mind AT ALL! Take my money!!)

Seeing her complicated relationship with her uncle unfold before us deeply moved me. The complete loneliness she silently depicted moving to her bed in the wheelchair, after Gaon left the mansion was heart-wrenching. And also the scenes after Soohyun’s death, hurting with Yohan seeing Gaon’s pain (the way she spoke her worry for the two of them, Yohan couldn’t let the words out properly to Gaon).

—   CKH’s character, played by Jang Young Nam, was amazing. Her acting already shattered me when i watched Nobody Knows! Her cold gaze, her harsh tone, she was badass i have to admit! 

The narcissistic rage was well depicted in her character, and even though i get where many’s opinions on her death come from (i share it too sometimes, but i feel it more for Sunah), i found this final decision fitting to the character, especially if you look how she treated her own son (each hold felt like a grip from rage eg. in ep. 3, as she maybe felt her son was the cause of her demise).

(HUGE SPOILERS FOR BEYOND EVIL BELOW!!!!) 

She reminded me of HKH’s ending: seeing his path to success was crushed with no way out of it except death on his own accord (in his eyes, because it was his absolute life aim, every single being, to his own wife and son, and means, even bending the justice independence, were his expendable ways to pave his path), HJW’s father was set on suicide before his son barged in. 

(Funnily enough, the filming spot for CKH’s house is the same for HKH’s house haha)

—   And also … Lawyer don’t-worry-i’ll-get-you-out-on-probation Ko deserves a round of applause for the best lawyer he is hahaha

THE STORY’S DEVELOPMENTS (AND SCRIPT). I feel like this story could very well have been developed on 20+ episodes! Even if i know some scenes in a script are sometimes (bound to be) cut in the drama, TDJ’s script leaks make me feel there was SO much more to be told, and so much more to explain some plot events in the airing drama!

Because the story was ambitious, both character and plot(twists which give you whiplash)-driven (and also the filming context with the pandemic), i feel like some choices were made.

The lines of thought about justice and the drama’s attempts at its ‘true’ definition are not lost on me. It was really interesting!

On a side note (there will be many, bear with me haha), the symbolic behind the app’s name, DIKE, which i’m pretty sure (correct me if i’m wrong, i only have some very rough basics in korean haha) is the korean romanization of Nikè, or in ancient greek Νίκη, the greek divinity of Victory ( ‘ㄴ’ in korean sounds like an ’n’ but its pronounciation is more abrupt/brisker, to the point of what could be sounding to ears like a ‘d’).

Nikè is most of the time represented as an attribute to other greek divinities who also embody the victory eg. Zeus or Athena, thus seen as a bestower of victory (in any domain, be it war, games = interestingly enough, the live court is set in a colosseum-like room, arts, …)  to the humanity on behalf of these gods (Nikè sometimes stands in her palm as an attribute of Athena, like the owl or the helmet). But sometimes Nikè was also revered an independent protective divinity.

Nikè is represented as a winged divinity in a long robe, flying above the victorious, assisting the humans in their works/challenges eg. handing them a laurel crown as a sign of victory, or a helmet, etc. Its mostly known representation is the Winged Victory of Samothrace (or The Nike of Samothrace) sculpture in the Louvre. The brand Nike also used it in its logo.

It calls back to Yohan’s line: « I make sure i win before the game starts », and in fact, since the beginning, unbeknownst to everybody witnessing the trials and participating to them, the app was his way to win. It foreshadows the ending of the story, Yohan finally taking down the foundation. It also adds to his god/devil image: he assumes the role of the intermediary/abyss of the « gods » (the Justice), taking in all the hubris of the society in order to bring the justice (well, guess we could say it put some hold to the cycle of the powerful culminating to chaos?) back, in some sort of catharsis through DIKE.

It might be a stretch, but Nikè’s winged representation could be found on Gaon’s tattoo (at first to me, it looked like a phoenix/winged angel, which symbolizes a ‘reincarnation’/new beginning for Yohan finding peace, a second chance to his past and Elijah thanks to Gaon & Gaon finding a new world even if his first crumbled ie. his parents and Soohyun’s death and professor Min’s betrayal).

(The whole virus plot by the end of the story made me feel a little uncomfortable given the actual context and the conspiracy theories that are spreading, but it wasn’t used carelessly and served the commentary of the powerful and how far they would go, i think? That said, a fiction, especially a dystopia like this, stays a fiction but when they used it, it gave me a forced laugh haha)

Now, if someone gets to translate some script bits, i’m really looking forward to:

K’s backstory!!!!!

Isaac and Yohan’s past!!!!

More about Elijah!!

Where’s the cat???

What was the script saying for Gaon and Yohan’s confrontation in ep. 12? When Yohan faced the window, waking up from a nightmare after Gaon left?

ABOUT SOOHYUN’S BACKSTORY. (Now, this will get long, i’m sorry but i needed to let my thoughts out haha) The drama introduced her as one of the four main characters with Gaon, Yohan and Sunah. I had so many expectations for her character! Especially from the three scenes we got of her:

➔ In the first episode, we see her save a young girl in the street from two men, looking up at the poster « A safe Korea will be realized from now on. »: it was a great introduction to the blatant lie of the ‘safe’ dystopian world that was being created in the story. It also showed how Soohyun felt in front of this insecure world. A side note, but seeing her hug the young girl like that reminded me the hugs she gave Gaon: she wanted to protect him from this unjust world with all her might (especially the scene in the restaurant where she hugs him). ➔ Her two confrontations with Juk Chang! ➔ Her dilemma and emotional turmoil when she erases Gaon’s presence in CKH’s office.

She was portrayed in the story as Gaon’s pillar since his parents’ tragic death and his moral compass. She’s the lawful citizen, despite feeling helpless to the world’s changes, who hopes it could be saved as long as the rule of law is preserved by everyone, and this begins by respecting it themselves. 

But she was not standing around and i kind of regret this was not shown more in the story: she kept doing her best in the « system », fighting from the inside the injustice hoping the little changes could make a difference someday. Because she couldn’t take Yohan’s path, in no way: the system/the law must be respected for it to be sustained. And i’m glad they addressed this point in the drama: Yohan chose to take on the role nobody wanted or even dared to assume, knowing fully well he became a criminal the second he began his plans (just as lawyer Ko said he was no longer a lawyer once he sided with him). 

This must not be glorified, nor vilified. As he said, it was a choice he decided to make. She mirrors his choices to some extent and i would have loved to see more of their interactions or her thoughts about that! And how she worked through the system to change things, her vision of the justice. They showed us the flashback of her career choice in high school, and it could have been interesting to learn more about her! 

A backstory about her saving the youth and meeting Sunah by accident would have been very interesting (given Sunah knew all about her since the beginning and ordered to kill her). Their meeting wouldn’t have foreshadowed Sunah’s plans, quite the opposite, and it would have given more ‘substance’ to her plans. We were robbed of this relationship haha! 

And of course, seeing her side with Yohan & Gaon for a short while (because seeing her team up with them all along the way could’ve been a little ooc) would have been dope. Her arresting Juk Chang while the two of them stop the gang was the closest thing we had to their teamwork ;;

Among the drama’s main focuses (the self-pity of the powerful and the never-ending cycle of their greed, the power displays it ensues which come in many forms in the system’s game), the conception of justice was developed all along the drama. It would have been really interesting to see whether Soohyun’s conception of justice could have changed in her own way!

And professor Min’s potential manipulation of Soohyun!!! Some scenes on their interactions could have been nice to see and explain why she focused solely on Yohan, the only side of the whole story she knew! Her reporting to the professor about her investigation (and him feeling she got too close to the truth) would have made sense because, as she saw Gaon growing apart from her as he was getting closer to the Kangs (especially since she saw him interact with Elijah when they invited her to the café, like Sunah saw how Gaon fit in their family at the dinner scene), she would’ve wanted to protect him without him knowing because she knew it’d have hurt him. It could have paralleled Gaon’s reports on Yohan to the professor at the beginning of the drama. And that could have explained (aside from the whole love triangle dynamics they had) her reluctance to tell Gaon Yohan was the one who told her his whereabouts when he was in danger in ep. 13 ; this scene also was one of the only moments addressing the lack of communication in their relationship. Seeing her feeling confused over Yohan could have been interesting!

(This also got me wondering whether in the script, Yohan’s injury was ever addressed.)

Also, i’m curious about her family, if the script mentions something about them: did they know Gaon?

About the loveline between Gaon and Soohyun: while the friendship could have stayed as is (it already felt pretty genuine in my opinion and strong friendships also deserve to be portrayed in stories), i’m convinced this drama wanted to set Gaon as the center of a subtext love & morality triangle between Soohyun and Yohan (and K and Sunah on Yohan’s part). I think i would’ve appreciated Gaon and Soohyun’s loveline so much more if they developed it more! And it had to develop in the very same episode she died: apart from the confession and kiss scene (i’m curious about the scene’s description in the script), the flashback of their moments, seen from Gaon’s pov, came just right in to ‘explain’ it! 

Of course it wasn’t the main focus of the story and there was already so much happening, but their new relationship development and her death almost had no impact on me even if it was set as a turning point for Gaon (and K for Yohan, as a cement to their respective decision to fight the system and how they would do it), and it made me really really sad! Of course it was a plot device (and i now wonder what would’ve happened if she or K wasn’t dead), but if it was bound to happen, the emotional impact was lessened!

Jinjoo’s character development and her relationship with Sunah happened really really fast, and i wonder how the script describes it!

Sunah’s involvement with the juvenile care center!!!  Her scene at the hospital left me really sad.

(Also, on the love plot, Gaon and Yohan jealousy bits weren’t used later as an expression of their envy towards the other’s status/life/etc. and were actually directed to people outside ie. Sunah/K/Soohyun in the plot, which makes me think they really wanted to set it as a love triangle!)

ABOUT SUNAH’S DEATH. I feel really really conflicted on this point. Her story was a parallel to CKH (and of course Yohan, i’ll talk about it below): two women — coming from totally opposite backgrounds — climbing their way up by their own means in this power circle. And despite all their accomplishments unnoticed (because they were the ones seeing through their plans while the others were mainly seen tearing each other into pieces), they could still be ruthlessly ejected from this world any day, part of it because they were belittled as women all the same, and chose to end her life on her own accord, still having agency over it. 

As someone else pointed it out, it also acts as a « poetic » retribution for her murder of Soohyun and K. BUT her exiting the scene in some other way staying alive could have contrasted with CKH’s suicide (especially since she overthrew the president who was the only one on her side getting in her way and even killed him in the end). Especially in a show that deals about how the justice can be carried out!

Of course, Yohan and Sunah were a foil to each other in their respective fights and traumatic past: the drama showed us how having someone to reach out to and protect (Elijah, Isaac and Gaon to Yohan ; Soohyun, Yohan and Elijah to Gaon) can become a driving force. Sunah, despite thinking this could be a weakness, also longed for companionship (from Yohan mainly, but also from Jaehee), and had no one to stop her crossing the line and preserve her from herself and the world. At least someone hearing her story, staying by her side and trying to understand her. 

Each time she said ‘can you be a little nicer to me?’ to Yohan made me feel for her (and also that one call with Jaehee), it was the only cries of loneliness she silently let out!

On a totally random note, i would have loved to see her interact more with Gaon (especially by the end of ep. 15, when Yohan was arrested)!

The story gladly didn’t end Yohan’s traumatic past and growth in death, but what about Sunah? In any case, Sunah was a really good and complex character, i enjoyed her character!

What about Jaehee? How did she react to Sunah’s death???

What about CKH’s family after her death???

I would have loved to hear more about Sunah’s plans as well! Scenes where she would play with Gaon for example (in Yohan’s presence or not, like at the photoshoot)! 

(This comment above foreshadowed, along with the dinner scene in ep. 11, she used him all along!)

Her involvement behind the scenes was only exposed in ep. 15 but i wanted to know more about her (motivations aside from her focus on Yohan, what did she plan to do before finding out a look-alike to Isaac, ...)! Given the elements in the plot, i get the idea she planned this whole business with the foundation first to reach the top and wanted to bring Yohan up with her (eg. leading the foundation or becoming the president) or down without her along the way, because she wanted his companionship. Maybe the script expands on it more? Did she really believe in the Dream Home project? Because as we saw her speech in the juvenile care center and her strong reaction to the youth being harmed in these schemes, i believe she kinda wanted to protect them as the best revenge on her past, because nobody could do it for her?  

THE ENDING SCENE. The ending was pretty good and didn’t give us an all-out tragedy, so i’m really glad! I still can’t believe Gaon was ready to blow his life away once he learnt Yohan’s death AND wanted to die with him (falsely) realizing Yohan wouldn’t change his mind, dead set on his decision (no pun intended!). And Yohan’s reaction to this ............... Now, their last scene is left to the viewers’ interpretation, but it felt to me like a new beginning to Yohan and Gaon’s relationship! As it was already said by many people on tumblr, Yohan wasn’t sure if Gaon would still be by his side despite it all, and he didn’t expect Gaon to feel this way. They’ll definitely meet again, it’s a promise of more in the future (especially Yohan’s nod, on the verge of tears and Gaon’s two relieved/endeared smiles, full of forgiveness). Gaon will join his new world once he’s done or they’ll come back to him once Elijah’s recovered.

And this game of hide and seek/hunt reflected their relationship development: Yohan felt unattainable at first, but he chased after him in the maze that was his devilish game, symbolized by the crowd, chasing him motivated by his suspicion, curiosity, anger and hate, disbelief and disappointment, empathy, worry, affection, desperation and love, until he finally reached him and they understood each other among all the crowd, living metaphorically in the same time, facing each other on the same (ground) level.

(A scene in the first episode, Gaon seeing a maze of Yohan’s reflections, maybe symbolizing he could not see through his facade in the beginning, being an enigma to him at first sight ; the choice of the reflections in the mirrors through the drama is interesting and reflects the story: depending on the angles, a story can hold as many meanings as there are points of view, the complete image surfacing once everybody’s story is told)

(Just like how, in ep. 4, Yohan shows Gaon the wicked system right under their noses, Gaon’s enraged and confused gaze directed right at Yohan after they all block his view by clinking glasses ; Yohan hoped he would understand what lies beneath but Gaon understands it fully through his own past in ep. 7-8)

(The crowd is cleared from their/our view in the final scene, leaving the two of them facing each other without any obstacle/reflection on their path)

Gaon kept Yohan’s watch all the time even in moments of doubt, sorrow and rage (the best PPL in drama history so far haha), Yohan finally got to Gaon and entered his world as Soohyun did, reaching out when he needed it the most, to stop him doing something he would regret deeply. It was symbolized by the scar he got on his left hand from preventing Gaon from stabbing him (that’s also why he caresses his scar in a bittersweet way, lost in thoughts, reminding him of their last meeting).

As @i-guess-it-rains said + according to the BTS’ editing (it passed off as a joke but i can’t erase it from my brain now haha),  the way the scene where Yohan defused Gaon’s bomb was framed looked at the same time like Yohan was also carefully handling Gaon’s heart (the bomb countdown clock radiating a red glow on his chest), on the verge of exploding. Now i have The Nights lyrics in my head haha (« My heart is going back to you, i just don’t know »)

On another note, i realized that in ep. 12, after Gaon left, he’s seen trying to call Soohyun in order to reach for her since their last confrontation, but right before, his finger glides over his contact, hesitating on Yohan’s contact before choosing to call Soohyun.

While in ep. 8, he only reaches out to Soohyun after his breakdown in the prison yard (without thinking to call Yohan because he was in the core of his doubts and pain at that time and needed space to reflect on all the events):

And it parallels to Sunah attempting to reach out to Jaehee in her loneliness at the top, hesitating before deciding to call her.

Now i hope TDJ will be on Netflix! It’d be very nice to get to watch the drama in high quality and have more people to see it!

I heard it got a webtoon adaptation so i also look forward to it once it will be translated!

A SECOND SEASON? When i first saw the ending, i thought it got wrapped up nicely and didn’t « need » another season, but it also left some parts open and laid out a new background for further developments (the system repeats itself but in another form, Yohan leaves the scene with his signature smile, maybe up to something else again, saying metaphorically or irl to Gaon he’ll come back if he doesn’t do well), kinda like Stranger/Forest of Secrets s1 or The Guest ending (the corruption doesn’t end there). I also heard it got high viewing rates in SK, so maybe it will be taken into account? And well, i’ll miss the cast so i would welcome the idea haha

THE SOUNDTRACK. The whole OST was stellar (and their titles are on point really!)! Getting to hear it without voices or noise over and with my headphones on made me realize it was even more beautiful! Because I Have You, Warmth That Melts Loneliness and If Only… are the end of me (especially If Only aaaaaaa)! Don’t get me started on Enemy of Truth’s title to the OST playing for the church fire because it’s devastating ;;;

If Only’s title … It leaves us filling in the blank space, the dots to Gaon’s thoughts when he learns about Yohan’s past and how it impacts him to this day.

The 4 songs were amazing (there’s also Different from the Outside but i still didn’t get its lyrics). Tempest was definitely etched in my mind as TDJ’s main theme haha And The Nights was my favorite!  

➔ Tempest was Yohan’s iconic theme and depicted his lonely path to revenge after the tragic events in his life, and his (fated) encounter with Gaon, how deeply it will change him in this journey in ways he didn’t expect. It perfectly introduces (with Chet Faker and Flume’s Drop the game) and concludes the drama!

➔ What you gonna do was THE revenge epic song making everyone revel in the ‘bad guys’ despair and Yohan’s badass moves! 

➔ The Nights felt like it was both Yohan and Gaon’s theme and Gaon’s sorrow after Soohyun’s death: at first i thought it was only Yohan’s, but his revenge and the last episodes proved me wrong! The song’s lyrics mirrored themselves (‘my/your night shines on you/me’), as if a complete understanding between Yohan and Gaon was found on their dark road. Yohan’s night shines on Gaon: Yohan’s broken past and all his misunderstood or hidden sides, his dedication to Elijah. Yohan’s rage (almost wrath since the biblical and god symbolism are there haha) and desire to take the inique system down waked Gaon’s own rage, buried deep inside, and made him move forward too. Gaon’s night shines on Yohan: all the time he spent with the Kangs, Gaon’s deep empathy and understanding, helping him reconnect with his niece, their dinners at night, his rage exploding when the truth about his parents was revealed, his desperation on the last two episodes (in ep. 15, seeing Gaon’s realization everything was a lie and Yohan was innocent, and in ep. 16, Gaon wanting to die by his side). Gaon’s night also shined on Soohyun, who wanted to protect him with all she got each time she saw him crumbling down.

There was still light on their dark road (which looks like a callback to Nightmare’s lyrics, « Save me from myself / Save me from this darkness that has lost its light »).

➔ Nightmare felt like it was Yohan and Sunah’s theme. When it last played when Sunah’s death happened on screen, it left me speechless (and if i remember correctly, the ‘save me from myself’ bit was played right when she shot herself … o u c h)!

[i-like-yoongi-a-latte]

Party preparations – Buddie

pairing: Eddie x Buck

genre: established relationship, humor, fluff

words: 1,9k

warnings: none, or maybe I should say that I tried to write cute and funny things

summary: Buck and Eddie host a party, and they need to do the preparations for it. How much chaos and clumsiness can you fit in Buddie’s house?

A/N: I wrote this as a birthday gift for Elisa/@firefighter-diaz, I know it’s very late but here it is! I hope you’ll enjoy x

x x x x

“Are you sure you can do it?” Eddie asks from the kitchen as he’s mixing the cake batter.

“Of course, I’m not that clums- shit.” Buck’s voice is heard from the living room.

“… Come again?”

“It’s… A minor setback, nothing too severe.” Buck stares at the ripped letter ‘A’ in his hands and sighs to himself. “Nothing a piece of tape can’t fix.”

He takes a piece of tape, and the letter is as good as before. As long as you don’t look the back of it closely. He hangs the letter in its place and hums in content, as the letters spell out the greeting.

Eddie chuckles at Buck’s adorable clumsiness and checks the recipe again for the correct order of adding the ingredients – he can’t mess this up, it needs to be perfect.

“Woah, was there an explosion or why is everything covered in flour?” Buck giggles as he arrives to the kitchen and gives Eddie a quick side hug. Eddie smiles fondly and replies.

“It was a struggle to open the bag, and then the flour just flew around, that’s all.”

“And that’s why people use containers to store the flour.”

“But we ran out of flour the last time, so I had to open the bag now.” Eddie sighs and rolls his eyes playfully. Something about Eddie using the word ‘we’ makes Buck’s skin tingle in a good way.

Eddie’s words bring back a memory from their last baking session.

They made chocolate chip cookies, or well, they made cookies that had some chocolate in them because they devoured almost all of the needed chocolate while baking. That, and the first batch burned because the two were too busy fighting over the perfect size of a cookie.

Eddie said that small, bite-sized cookies were the best, while Buck was rambling about the perfect big cookies that were still a bit soft from the center. The timer was on, but it was too late, as the smell of burnt cookies filled the whole house, and soon the fire alarm started beeping.

“Now look, if these were bigger, they wouldn’t have burned.” Buck says as he takes the batch out of the oven. Eddie rolls his eyes at him.

“They would be burned.”

The second batch didn’t burn, and the cookies tasted good, no matter the size.

“Ahh, okay, explanation accepted.” Buck grins after the memory in his mind ends. “I’ll put some music on, okay?”

Eddie hums in approval as Buck searches for his phone and connects it to the speakers. Soon Taylor Swift starts to play softly in the background.

“I’ll put the cake in the oven, could you put the flour in the container?” Eddie asks while pouring the batter in the cake pan.

“On it.” Buck responds and takes the container from the cabinet, waving it in front of Eddie playfully before taking the bag of flour in his hands.

He pours the flour gently, but as if the universe wanted to play with him, the flour puffs out so there’s a huge pile of it on the counter, beside the container. Buck freezes for a second until he hears Eddie snickering – he doesn’t even try to hide it! Buck shoots him a glare.

“Don’t.” Buck says and tilts his head at him. “Not one word.” He lifts his index finger to make his words more effective. Eddie’s eyes sparkle as he smiles widely at Buck’s behavior. Then he puts the cake pan in the oven, setting the timer so that it won’t burn (hopefully).

“I thought you said we store flour on the containers, not on counters.”

“Alright, that’s it, I told you-” Buck takes a handful of flour and threatens to throw it on Eddie.

“Hey hey hey, whoaaa, let’s not, the place has to be clean for the party!” Eddie raises his hands as if he’s surrendering.

“The place is covered in flour already.” Buck says and raises his brow, challenging him.

“It was only one joke, I won’t joke about it anymore, okay? Please do not throw that, it’s enough work to clean this mess…”

Buck tries to put the flour from his hand back on the counter, but it has already fallen on the floor, covering his feet.

“I’m not throwing it around just because of the party. Don’t think I wouldn’t cover you in flour otherwise.” Buck tries to sound serious, but his lips curve into a smile which ruins the serious image.

“As much as I’d like to have a food fight with you right now, let’s just clean this up before the cake is ready.” Eddie says and points at Buck’s feet. “And don’t you dare move with those flour-feet of yours before I get the dustpan!”

“Romeo, save me, I’ve been feeling so alone, I keep waiting for you, but you never come!” Buck sings along to the song playing in the background while Eddie searches for the dustpan

And that starts their mini concert featuring some twirls and fond smiles at each other.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling twenty-twoooooooooo”

“… Yeah, stick to firefighting, bud.” Buck tries to hide his chuckle as he jokes about Eddie’s attempt on a high note.

“What?!” Eddie puts his hand on his chest and feigns being offended. “You think I enjoy your shower concerts while you’re belting out some Ariana??”

“Oh I know you do, you love my golden vocals!”

The cake timer goes off, letting Eddie escape the situation. Now Buck doesn’t get the satisfaction of him admitting that he likes to hear him sing in the shower.

Eddie takes the cake on the counter and checks that it’s cooked.

“I’ll start whipping the cream, could you take the strawberries?” Eddie asks while taking the cream and strawberries from the fridge.

Buck hums while walking beside Eddie, taking the strawberries with him.

“Should we put some inside the cake?” Buck asks while cutting the berries in half.

“Hmm, maybe yeah.”

Buck takes one piece and throws it in his mouth.

“Hey, don’t do that or we won’t have any left for the cake! Remember how it went with the chocolate last time?” Eddie says jokingly.

“It’s important to test the taste, so that we know if they’re good or if they’ll ruin the cake.” Buck explains while pouting. Eddie rolls his eyes at Buck’s reasoning. Buck has a point, but he also has a big appetite, so it wouldn’t take long for all the berries to be gone.

“Here, take one.” Buck holds a strawberry near Eddie’s lips, urging him to open his mouth. He opens his mouth, the strawberry tastes sweet.

“Your logic sounds like you’d need to taste each strawberry to know if they’re good or not.”

“I could do that, if you’d like.” Buck smirks in response. A competitive spark lights in Eddie’s eyes.

“Don’t you dare, or you’ll-”

“Sleep on the couch? That’s an old one, babe.” Buck looks so smug that Eddie would like to wipe that smirk off with a slap… of his lips against his, maybe. The nickname makes his cheeks burn.

“… You’re lucky I love you.” Eddie says while rolling his eyes. “Besides, I was going to say that you’ll be running to the store.”

“Yeah, sure, dear.” Buck hums and glances at blushing Eddie. He loves to press his buttons, it’s cute to see him blush at his words.

Eddie glances at Buck. He loves his flirtatious teasing, even though he might say he doesn’t, but Buck knows it. If the cake was for them, he wouldn’t mind if Buck ate all the strawberries, but as it was for someone else, they needed to be careful. Maybe he should have bought two boxes of strawberries, one for Buck and the other for the cake – well, next time he’d remember to buy double the needed amount.

Eddie cuts the cake and starts filling it, Buck slices rest of the strawberries and slides the cutting board closer to the cake. They work together and assemble the slices carefully in, but as Eddie tries to put the other half on top of the lower one, it breaks apart. Eddie’s eyes widen as he sees the cake pieces on the counter. Then he closes his eyes, and Buck can see him counting to ten in his head to calm down.

“It’s okay, we’ll cover it with the cream and it’s okay.” Buck says as Eddie puts the pieces in place.

Eddie sighs and starts frosting the cake with a palette knife and Buck follows his work closely.

“Could you make it look smoother? I don’t trust myself with this.” Eddie says and hands the palette knife in Buck’s direction. Buck shakes his head.

“No, it looks great. I can make the swirls on top of it, though.” Buck takes the piping bag and fills it with cream. He’s focusing on the cake fully as he makes small circles with the cream.

Eddie smiles as he sees Buck sticking his tongue out in concentration.

“You can put the strawberries on the swirls, and then we’ll put them in between the swirls too.” Buck tells him and he follows.

“I’ve got a blank space, baby…” Eddie sings quietly while adjusting the strawberries neatly.

“And I’ll write your name.” Buck continues the line with a smile.

x x x x

After the cake is done and in the fridge, Buck and Eddie go to the living room to check if all the preparations are done or not.

“The decorations look… Not enough. What are we missing?” Eddie says while crossing his arms in front of his chest. He’s looking at the letters spelling out the congratulations, the streamers and the funny photobooth items to use in photos.

“You’re right. But what is it?” Buck wonders and sits down on the couch. Eddie joins him and furrows his brows.

“We bought everything on the list, and we checked it twice.” Eddie says and rubs his temples.

“Now I know what we’re missing!” Buck suddenly gasps and hits his thigh in realization. “The balloons!” He dashes out to get the red balloons from the cabinet.

They start blowing up the balloons, which should have been started earlier, because they were feeling dizzy pretty soon, and there were a lot of balloons to be filled.

One by one, the members of the firefamily arrive with all kinds of treats and gifts, ready to party their hearts out.

“Glad you’re here, we were about to pass out from blowing the balloons.” Eddie chuckles and hands out the balloons for others to fill.

“Luckily we know how to handle a person who has fainted.” Bobby says as he puts the different treats he carried on the table.

“This would have been easier with helium.” Hen says and starts blowing a balloon.

“Yeah, but then these two would have been inhaling all of it and playing around.” Chimney points to Buck and Eddie while laughing.

“That’s true, Chim.” They all laugh at the comment, because everyone knows how there would be zero balloons filled, but two giggly idiots with high-pitched voices instead.

They put the balloons on the wall so that they form a frame for the photos, and finally the decorations look all set.

It’s almost time, so Eddie takes the cake out of the fridge, and Buck is ready to put the candles on.

“Now, be reeeeally careful so that the cake won’t fall.” Buck emphasizes his words and Eddie rolls his eyes.

“That’s why I don’t let you hold it.” Eddie says as a comeback.

“I’m not that clumsy!”

“Do I need to remind you-”

“Now if the lovebirds would be quiet and take their places, the surprise wouldn’t be ruined!” Athena says with a stern voice.

Buck and Eddie take their places, waiting quietly behind a corner.

And then, as everyone’s waiting for the star of the day, you open the door.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!”

x x x x

A/N: Let me know what you think!! 🌼

[votederpycausemufins]

Surprisingly Familiar Ch 1

The first chapter of the sequel to Summoning Family. I'm going to be working on my scattered au fic more, but you might still see some chapters of this scattered around

@petrichormeraki made the hermit!Tommy au, and @helleborusangel did amazing rambles for the chapters of Summoning Family.

Now, Let's see how things have gone since the ending of Summoning Family.

It had been eleven days since Grum’s birthday and now it was Jrum’s. He was excited by the party, playing games and trying to scam people of their diamonds. Cake was nice, his mask getting a special cake of his own with diamonds since Grum had gotten the same. And then it came to presents.

Jrum was especially happy at any toys he got and glad if he was just getting diamonds. Kokatori had also managed to get another ribbon around its neck and try to be a present again. Jrum wasn’t the most pleased about that since he was still coping with everything that happened with the egg, but he still took the present before handing them off to Grum.

Just as the presents were just about all gone, two more were placed on the table, each one with a different label. Jrum went to grab the last present when he saw the new ones being placed, so he looked up at who was putting them down, surprised to see an unfamiliar face. “Um, who are you?”

The question made everyone look over, most people looking confused, but three people had different reactions. Phil looked surprised, recognizing the man. Grian was also surprised, but also awestruck. Lastly, in Grum’s arms, Kokatori hissed.

“What the heck are you doing here? Who even let you in?” Phil asked, walking over to the man.

“I let myself in. I mean, I sort of already had permission to be here, just never used it. Building big was never really my thing.”

“Who are you then?” It was Scar who spoke up. The person looked at a few of the hermits who seemed to also look as confused as Scar sounded.

“I think the beard is messing with them.” Phil said, elbowing the man, who then ran a hand through his beard.

“Right, spend a month on an abandoned island and then get captured by pirates and you can’t really do much for that. Anyone got a raz...or…” he trailed off as Jrum pulled out some special shears. He was stunned by the bot having such a thing, but took them with a thank you and stepped out of the room.

After a few minutes, he stepped back in, and immediately some of the hermits were no longer confused. “Oh my god, it’s been so long!” Bdubs was the first to say, going over to the man. “What have you been up to!”

“Eh, mainly family. You’ve been working with someone named Scar?” Bdubs nodded and gestured to the mayor. “Got it. Nice to meet you.” He moved over to Doc. “And how about you? How’s the family life?”

“Eh, some days are always better than others, I haven’t been around here as often because of it. What about you?”

“Well, the kids are all grown up at this point, I’ve got more time on my hands so I’ve gone back to filming.”

Doc nodded. “Sounds good to me. I’ve got to tell you more about what we did last season.”

“I’m sure you do.” The man chuckled, moving over to Keralis. “Hey, can’t wait to see your city. The pictures seemed crazy enough. I can’t believe you built all that.”

“Why spank you, but I have had help with designs.”

“Yeah. And you said you own it with someone named Cleo now?”

“Yes, in fact, she’s got a relative that is in Bub’s troop last I checked.”

Cleo spoke up at this point. “Yep! Got an order in for popcorn just the other day.”

“Nice to hear. By the way, Etho’s behind me, isn’t he?” The hermits unfamiliar with the man were surprised by that comment, as Etho was indeed behind him. Pretty much no one could tell when Etho was sneaking around, so this new person doing it was very shocking. “I’ll be asking everyone about your shops so I can stay awake from them.”

“Oh come on, some of them would be fun for a survivor like you. In fact we could get Tango to open up decked out for a session for you.”

“Right, sure Etho. Now is Beef around?”

“No actually. He had something really important come up.” Etho answered, another hermit nodding to agree with the statement.

“Ah, that’s too bad. Well, I guess the only person left to greet is ol’ rap battle over here.”

Wels suddenly looked embarrassed. “Oh that’s why you look familiar. You’re the OBP leader.”

“Yeah.” The man nodded. “You know green wasn’t really your c-”

“Please don’t bring that up again.”

The man laughed. “Alright, I won’t.” He then looked at the rest of the hermits. “Well, I think I know a few of you from the letters I’ve gotten from these guys.” And he gestured to the hermits he had been talking to. “Like I know Scar and Cleo now, then TFC and Xisuma I’m familiar with, also Zedaph.”

“Yeah, so who are you exactly?” Mumbo spoke up. “While I’m glad you’ve come to celebrate Jrum’s birthday, I’m not familiar with you.”

“Right, forgot to give my name I guess.” The man started to say. “I’m-”

Grian cut him off. “You’re the Soarvivor Paul! I remember watching your shows when I was in highschool! I had some friends at my school in England who went to an event of yours!”

“Wait, this is Paul?” Scar spoke up. “I’ve heard a lot of stories about him from Doc and Bdubs.”

Paul smiled at that. “Yep, that would be me.”

Grian took over the conversation again. “So wait, you said you were recording again, are you making MvM again?”

Instead of answering happily like Paul had to everyone else, he just gave Grian a bit of a nod before giving him the cold shoulder.

“Wait, are you that uncle Phil’s always talking about?” Tommy asked. He had stayed out of the conversation when he had no clue what was going on, but now that he recognized the name, he had some things to say. “The one he always complains always uses letters instead of a phone call or texting.”

Paul nodded. “Yeah, that would be me. Letters are the most reliable when you’ve got a job like mine.”

“Then stick to a comm then Paul.” Doc said, resting his arm on Paul's shoulder. “I’ve offered to make you a special one who knows how many times. I’m sure your kids wouldn’t mind it either.”

“Why do I feel like I’m still missing something?” Tommy spoke up again, Doc explaining for him.

“A number of us hung out with Paul in the past. Most of us he knows from the old Minecrack worlds, but he met Keralis on some other worlds.”

“Yeah, and met Wels when we were dealing with an apocalypse world. Beef was there too.” Paul sighed. “So Phil, what’s your family been getting up to other than the obvious?”

“Well, Tommy’s actually living in hermitcraft now.” Phil answered. “Wilbur’s getting through some things, and Techno’s trying to keep up his hardened warrior mask, but Grian’s kid is making that hard.”

“Well, this group seems to have that effect on people.” Paul nodded. “And how’ve they been doing with Xelqua?” Paul jabbed a finger on Grian’s direction.

“Right, shit, forgot to say that part. Grian is Xelqua.” Phil quickly explained, Paul’s mouth turning to a small ‘o’.

“Ah, I guess that explains that war and the hippies I heard about in letters. At least It’s a little tamer in a world like this.” Most of the people in the room were confused, and at first Grian was one of them, but then he made a connection and his legs were suddenly struggling to keep him up. “He has told you about Tokyo, right?”

Before anyone could answer, Kokatori was hissing in Grum’s arms again, drawing Paul’s attention. He pulled out a stone sword and immediately the hermits that knew Paul were holding him back. “No! Hey! Paul, that is a kid’s pet!” Bdubs said. “I know you don’t like them but that’s like the one chicken you’re not allowed to kill!”

“Just get him a pet other than a chicken! You can’t trust a chicken! They’re spies, killers and thieves.”

“Killer chickens?” Wels, who wasn’t holding Paul back, asked.

“Oh no, he’s telling the truth about that.” Doc answered. “I saw it for myself.”

“How do you get killed by a fucking chicken?” Tommy asked.

“You forget to kill it first.” Paul answered, finally putting his sword away. “Well, you said that kid’s one of Xel’s.”

“One of Grian’s.” Phil corrected. “And yes. That’s Grumbot, or Grum, the older of the two. His birthday was a week and a half ago.”

“Well, figures they’d just try causing more problems.”

Phil rolled his eyes and then grabbed Paul’s arm. “Alright, you and I. Talk. Now.”

When Phil and Paul had left the room, Grian finally allowed himself to go to the floor. The hermits that knew Paul were immediately apologizing for him, not sure why he was acting that way. But Grian knew. And Mumbo helped Grian up, pretty sure he knew too. “I’m going to help Grian lie down. Grum, maybe I should take Kokatori with me so they don’t cause more problems.”

Grum nodded and handed the chicken over, it being very upset about being moved and pecking at Mumbo’s arms. But he was too worried about Grian to let that stop him. So soon they had left the room too.

For a while, everything was silent. But then Jrum spoke up. “Well, for my birthday, I want to eavesdrop! And no one can stop me!” And he ran off to listen into Phil and Paul’s conversation, leaving the rest of the party members confused on what to do.

[stxrrywildflower]

carolina (2)

pairing - emily prentiss x reader

summary - you meet emily in a bar, she doesn’t realize who you are until she hears a song about her on the radio

warnings - none

series masterlist

emily felt like she couldn’t breath.

the profiler tried to go on with her life, she really did. except, your song was already extremely popular. it was topping the charts, people were constantly talking about it, and it was played on most radio stations. it was incredibly difficult to avoid the song, nonetheless you.

an entire week went by of emily trying to escape the song. the details of your hookup were never released, emily was starting to regret not admitting it to j.j. and garcia. the tech analyst loved the song, always gushing about the lyrics. all emily wanted to do was yell that it was about her.

but she couldn’t for multiple reasons; your privacy and the reaction from others. sure the team knew of her partner preference but how would they react if they knew emily had hooked up with one of the most famous singers at the moment.

news articles were another issue too. drama outlets were pestering you with questions about who the song was about. each time, you would remain stubern and not open up. it made her want to scream.

emily decided to just move on, work becoming her main priority for the next few days. j.j. and penelope didn’t let up on their questions, though they did learn to be more subtle about it.

no new cases were presented which was more than suprising. the team was fairly thankful for it, paperwork and 9 to 5’s were usually uncommon. being able to actually work and be home in time for dinner was one of their simple pleasures.

walking into work, emily was focused on one thing; coffee.

she couldn’t have been in the main floor for more than a few seconds before penelope was rushing over to the elevators.

“hey em,” penelope greeted. “there was a package dropped off for you this morning. i told the delivery guy to just leave it at your desk.”

though emily nodded, her mind was already formulating theories as she hasn’t ordered anything recently. being a profiler will make you that paranoid.

just like penelope had said, a smile white box with a small gold ribbon sat on her desk. emily narrowed her eyes slightly, having even less of a clue on what it could be.

“well, are you going to open it?”

emily ignored the remarks from the team, taking a seat and placing her bag at the base of her desk.

with only slightly shaky hands, she reached out to untie the ribbon. the sides of the box fell away as the strings were released, leaving the top on. after pulling the final piece off, she froze.

inside was an envelope, another piece of paper under it. the note was in your handwriting, edges crisp and extremely neat. in cursive letters was ‘emily prentiss.’ all thoughts of it being a mix up went right out of the door.

she refrained from opening it yet, wanting to see the other contents in the box before reading. emily next put the note on her desk, now focused on what was under it.

of all things, it was a plane ticket. ‘washington dulles international airport (IAD) to los angeles international airport (LAX). 9:30 am.’ it was set for the following morning, first class and already paid.

emily opened the note, seeing a five letter offer scribbled down.

‘meet me in los angeles?’ -y/n

emily’s never taken time off quicker.

____

touching down in the warm city of los angeles, emily was a bundle of nerves. she was already begining to regret wearing joggers and a t-shirt.

she had no clue how to feel about dropping everything or just the situation as a whole  

it was only when emily grabbed her luggage that she realized just how much of an idiot she was. she had just flow across the country with no clue where to go, who to talk to, or where you were. she was acting on pure adrenaline and impulse. her luggage finally came around, emily picking it up and extending the handle to grab.

a tap on emily’s shoulder caused her to jump. she turned around, now in front of a man in a clean black suit. he was holding a name card and a small index card.

“emily prentiss?” he asked.

“yeah?” emily replied, not quite sure what else to say. “this is for you,” he added, handing over the small piece of paper.

‘if you’re reading this, i assume you arrived with no issue. i sent leo to pick you up at the airport, hope he didn’t freak you out. he’ll take you back to mine. xx - y/n’

emily picked up her luggage once more, ready to follow leo out. “just letting you know, it’s a bit of a drive,” leo offered, getting in the drivers side while emily took the back. she nodded, letting out a sigh with it. at least she could think for awhile.

pulling up to your house, scratch that, it was pretty much a mansion, emily didn’t know if she had guessed completely correct on what it would look like or was just flat out wrong.

the house was in hollywood on one of the steep hills. after passing through the gates, a heavy security measure, she finally got view of the home. the outside was pretty modern, made up of mostly white and grey colors as well as many windows. a garden with a fountain in the center greeted her as they pulled into the circular driveway.

“well this is where i let you out. just head up the stairs and ring the doorbell. y/n should be down to greet you soon,” leo spoke. “i really hope everything works out. i’ve never seen y/n happier then when she came back from washington d.c.”

emily thanked him quietly, still processing the final piece of information he had spoke.

dragging her bags behind her, emily headed up the series of steps and to the door. just like leo had instructed, she pushed the doorbell button and stood back.

you didn’t greet her at the door, the lock on the door clicking signaling emily that it was now unlocked. she twisted the knob, pushing the door open and stepping inside.

the foyer may have been more impressive than the outside. a grand chandelier hug from the ceiling, a curved staircase leading up to the top floor. her heels clicked around the floor as she twirled around, looking up at the decor.

you heard the front door of your house open, the alarm alerting you just moments before. you were currently making lunch, just a simple sandwich and then fruit on the side

after putting your lunch on hold, abandoning your knife you were using as well as your now finished meal, you left the kitchen to meet your guest.

emily stood only slightly awkwardly in your open foyer. her bags were by her side, eyes darting around the room. half the stuff in there was probably worth more than she could think.

footsteps broke the profiler out of her observation.

you were finally in her eyesight a moment later, a small smile on your face as you walked down the hallway. what captivated emily once again was just your overall appearance. a sharp breath escaped her lips before she would realize that.

a loose oversized tan cardigan hung of your body, a white tank top underneath that with leggings as your pants. your hair was down, relaxed in its natural style. no makeup was on either, not even lipstick like you had on when she first met you.

“hey em,” god just the way you said her name made her blush.

“hi,” emily greeted, thankful her voice didn’t crack.

“i can take your bags upstairs,” you offered. “i’ll put them in my favorite guest room, it has the best views. you can go into the kitchen if you want, it’s just down the hall. the rooms open, there’s no way you can miss it.”

the two of you went your separate ways, you upstairs and her to the kitchen.

out of pure habit, emily ran her hand across the marble countertops, looking around at the details you had strewn about.

“sorry about the mess, i was just making,” emily jumped at your voice. she wasn’t expecting you back so soon. “it’s totally okay, honestly.”

another wave of awkward silence fell over you two, neither quite sure what to say. “look emily-” you started. “we do need to talk about what happened.”

“do we?” emily spoke. you laughed, “yes we do.”

while you took a seat at one of the counter seats, emily stood up. she was obviously holding back, reluctant how to go with the situation.

“come on emily. you’ve been all i’ve thought about for the past two weeks. hell, i even wrote a song about you. and we do need to talk about the elephant in the room,” you pleaded. “have you even heard it?”

emily nodded, “yes i have. my friend penelope sent me the link. listed it it then and didn’t really know how to react. it was kinda difficult to avoid, it’s playing everywhere. your doing amazing by the way. figured i could throw in a complement there.”

a blush passed across your cheeks. “thank you,” you whispered.

emily then looked down, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. you figured you might ask well just dive into the heavy stuff.

“all i’m saying is that you came here for a reason. there has to be some part of you that’s been thinking about me too. i would like to think you aren’t the person to just drop everything and meet in a whole different state for just anyone,” you commented.

you did get her there. emily did really just leave work without explanation to come see you.

emily didn’t respond, choosing to step forward to connect your lips. you hooked your legs around her, holding her cheek and arm in your hand.

the kiss was incredibly different than the one at the bar, that one being sloppy and rushed. you two were in a hurry, wanting to feel as much of the other as you could.

this one, you could actually take your time. very little could interrupt the two of you. you could actually savor the feeling of her body against yours.

“let’s give us a try,” you mumbled against her lips.

emily nodded, holding your waist a little tighter. “let’s give us a try.”

☆ ☆ ☆

tags - @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @kissessforharryyy @garcias-batcave @zoseph @kissessfordraco @ogmilkis @cm-is-kinda-cool @matthewgublerswife @guessthatswhyiliveinhell @spencerslatte @babyangellee @agentshortstacc

[five-rivers]

Interview With a Ghost (Epilogue: Diner)

(PART 1) (PART 2) (PART 3) (PART 4) (PART 5)

.

.

.

Unlike many of the eating establishments in Amity Park, Cecilia's Diner didn't cater to ghost-hunting tourists (To be technical, they didn't cater at all. It was a strictly sit-down establishment. They didn't even do take out.). Its clientele was strictly local. Pointedly so. The proprietress maintained a strict policy of banning all ghost hunting paraphernalia from the premises. A tourist could, theoretically, come in and order a sandwich, but if they gave any sign that they were there to hunt ghosts, they were summarily ejected.

There was a reason for this: Cecilia's Diner had the dubious distinction of sitting across the street from the cemetery. No one wanted ghost hunters watching them while burying a loved one, and Cecilia refused to add to what she considered to be a veritable plague.

The diner was not Danny's usual haunt. But it was useful, and gave him a good vantage point to watch the comings and goings in the cemetery. Of which there were many, even if the funeral had ended over an hour ago.

"Danny?"

"Hm?" said Danny, not taking his eyes off the window.

"Are you going to finish your fries?"

"Tucker!" scolded Jazz.

"What?" said Tucker.

Danny finally turned back to his friends. Jazz was giving Tucker a rather severe glare.

"It's fine," said Danny, "I don't want them."

Tucker reached out, but Jazz intercepted him. "Danny," she said, "you've hardly eaten all day." She nodded significantly at his plate full of fries and the sandwich he'd only taken two bites out of.

"I'm not hungry," he mumbled.

"You need your strength."

"I don't want to throw up all over myself when I do this," said Danny.

"You are doing it, then?" asked Sam. She hadn't eaten much, either. Then again, the diner didn't have a lot of vegetarian options. "Telling your parents, I mean."

"I don't really have any choice," said Danny. He picked up a french fry, and let it hang limply between his fingers. "I have to, don't I?"

"You do have a choice," said Sam. "I know you want to stay with your parents, and I like them too, but..." She drummed her fingers on the table. "I'm worried about how they'll react."

"I know," said Danny. He looked back out the window. "This is so weird. People are mourning for me, but I'm right here."

Sam and Tucker exchanged a glance. "Well, you get to do what you want," said Tucker. "It is your fune-" There was a meaty thump, and Tucker fell over, clutching at something beneath the table.

"I guess so," said Danny. He closed his eyes and sighed. He did feel calmer, now, with his body safely beneath the earth. Vlad might try to steal it again, six feet of soil and a couple inches of wood didn't do much to deter a person who could simply phase through them, but between the layer of Ghost-Zone-sourced paint Danny had stealthily applied to the inside of the coffin and the continuing threats and disdain of the ghostly community, Danny didn't think that he'd be terribly successful.

Danny would know if he was, anyway.

Tucker straightened out and pulled his PDA from his pocket. "When are those officers supposed to come get you again?"

"Detectives," corrected Danny. "Any minute now."

As if Danny's words had summoned them, the bell on the diner's door rang. They looked up to see the detectives walking in.

Jazz slid out of the booth, followed shortly by Danny.

"We'll call when it's over," said Jazz. Danny tried to smile and gave them a little wave, before turning to greet the detectives.

.

The ride to Fentonworks in the detectives car was long and mostly silent. Mostly.

"Can you stop staring at me?" asked Danny.

"Sorry," said Paterson.

"Mhm," said Collins, who, as he was the one driving, had much less of an excuse for staring.

Danny sighed.

The car pulled up in front of Fentonworks.

.

"During our investigation last week," started Collins, undertaking to explain why their children had been brought home by the police, "we came across certain facts that made us, and our captain, concerned for the safety of Jazz and Danny. Especially Danny." Of course, Collins was only doing the initial explanation. Danny was going to do the big reveal himself.

"What kind of facts?" asked Maddie.

"Facts about Phantom?" exclaimed Jack.

"Well, yes-" started Collins.

"That no good spook!" roared Jack, pulling a wicked-looking gun from... somewhere. "I'll teach him to mess with Fentons!"

"Whoa!" said Collins, leaping to his feet and holding out both his hands. He did not miss Paterson reflexively reaching for her own weapon. "No! There's no threatening going on! No threats! Let's put down the guns!"

"Don't worry, detective," said Maddie. "It's designed to only hurt ghosts."

Collins took a deep breath, and kept himself from glancing at Danny. "Why don't we continue this conversation once you've put all the ghost weapons away," he said.

Jack frowned. "Why?" he asked.

"I just think it'll make everyone involved more comfortable," said Collins. "Just as a general proposal."

.

It took some time for Jack and Maddie to divest themselves of all their weaponry, and every second just made Danny more nervous. He wanted to just get this over with. He wanted it to be done. His mind whirred, trying to come up with the best way to start explaining, and, oh, he should have decided earlier. He should have written a script, or a letter, but he didn't, thinking that the right words would just come to him.

So when Jack and Maddie came back into the room, Danny blurted out, "It was my corpse."

Jack and Maddie stared at him. Jazz put her head in her hands.

"What?" asked Jack. "What was your corpse?"

"That they found, in the park." Danny waved his hand in Collins and Paterson's direction. "The body." They still looked bewildered. "I've been dead, sort of, for two years."

Maddie stepped forward. "Danny... I don't know what's going on, but you're just- You're confused. You have a pulse, Danny. You're alive." She turned on the detectives. "And you! You know he's alive. How could you-?"

"Mom," said Danny. "I'm not lying. Look." He held up his hand and slowly rendered it invisible. "When I turned the portal on," he said, "I was- The button was inside. I was inside. It turned on right on top of me."

"Oh, Danno," said Jack, eyes wide.

"The best I can figure is, ectoplasm replaced half of the mass in my body and the other half... just sort of..." He made a splitting gesture with his hands. "Fell out. I kind of freaked out and buried it in the park. I didn't know what else to do."

Maddie sat down heavily on the couch, one hand over her mouth.

"So, like, the parts of my body that are still there, they all work fine," said Danny. "So, you know, pulse and stuff. And the ectoplasm is pretty well integrated. It's, you know, the thing keeping me together. But I'm not one-hundred-percent dead. Just, like, half." He paused. "Also, I'm Phantom."

"What?"

Collins cleared his throat. "This being the case," he said, "we're going to have to ask you to make some changes to your home and behavior."

.

A week later, Danny sat in the same booth at Cecilia's Diner, looking out the window again. The cemetery was much quieter this week, but he could still see people stopping by his grave.

How bizarre.

"Have you decided what you want yet, Danno?" asked Jack. Danny turned away from the window, to smile at his family.

"No," he said. "Not yet."

[shotgun--rider]

Rumor

A Jensen x Reader oneshot

Y/N’s never considered how many suspiciously snuggly photos there are of her and her best friend. Then they all come out in a Buzzfeed article, published just in time for everyone to grill her during her solo panel. Now what?

Word Count: 4000

Warnings: Really dumb fluff, everyone’s anxious, Jared and Briana are sick of everyone’s shit

A/N: This is dumb and fluffy and dangerously song-fic territory but it showed up and demanded to be written so here you go. I have no idea if this is actually any good. Enjoy?

---------* ---------

You were the epitome of normal, growing up. You had decent grades, run-of-the-mill hobbies, and an average high school cashier job. You could hop on your bike (and later, borrow your parents’ car) and take yourself to the coffee shop, or to a friend’s, and the only people that  would look twice at you were drivers checking to make sure the kid on the bike didn’t steer into traffic. 

You didn’t win any “most likely to” awards in the yearbook, your college major was undecided for an embarrassing length of time, and your 300-odd Instagram followers were comprised of friends and some polite acquaintances from welcome week. And you didn’t mind. You were perfectly happy to go through your day-to-day without turning heads and making waves. 

That was all before you’d answered an open casting call on a whim, strapped for cash and mostly there because a sparkly website proclaiming “50 Easy Side Hustles!” had suggested spending your weekends as an extra if you lived in a big filming city. Before your three-episode contract in a show you’d never bothered to watch turned into a series regular.

Now, you’re pretty much guaranteed to have your face splashed across the internet every time you stick a toe off the end of your L.A. property line. Even if the paparazzi aren’t there to get you in Page Six with some wildly exaggerated nonsense, a fan somewhere will snap a blurry photo and upload it somewhere for people to shout about you in the comments section. You’ve never gotten used to being tagged in edits of your own face, or watching your follower count creep steadily upwards. You’re just… you. You’ve always been just the normal, average girl from a nothing-special hometown.  

Even after your third year running on Supernatural, you still forget. You still make it all the way to the end of the block before you remember that the person shouting your name is the bodyguard you accidentally abandoned two errands ago. You still get confused when the restaurant wait staff stares at you, still get annoyed calls from your publicist begging you to at least try to appear in fewer coffee shop paparazzi pictures looking like a disgruntled zombie who’s never seen a hairbrush. (Sue you, you can’t be expected to be functional before a cup of coffee.)

You’re a brilliant actress, an unexpected fan-favorite, relatable to everyone in your autograph line...and you’re kind of a terrible celebrity. Unlike certain child models turned actors straight at 18 you may know, this isn’t a world you were trained in. Which is probably why it doesn’t even occur to you that being caught frequently in the company of your best friend might look like something until you’re staring at your own name in a headline on your phone screen, in line at Starbucks before your first panel of the con weekend. 

Y/N L/N’s Secret Relationship With Co-Star Jensen Ackles, howls the bold-printed headline, and you blink stupidly at the letters, uncomprehending, until you realize that someone’s trying to get your attention. “Sorry, what?”

The barista looks impatient, suppressing an eyeroll and starting her spiel before cutting off halfway with a squeak. “Oh, my god, you’re her! I’m sorry, I’m just… you’re literally my favorite!” She’s blushing and stuttering and has a near-death grip on the empty coffee cup she was preparing to write your name on. 

“Oh,” you reply, forcing the fog of confusion from your brain and slapping on a smile. “Hi, you caught me.”

“Can I...um…” the girl reaches into her back pocket and sheepishly produces her cell phone, complete with a flaming pentagram case. “Um, selfie?”

You smile indulgently, leaning over the counter. The fans are one of the best parts, really, and it’s never a hardship to make someone smile. (That is, when they’re not selling rumors and lies to the tabloids, you think grumpily.)

The barista girl pulls back with a wide smile and a full-face blush, and keeps glancing shyly up at you while she punches in your usual order, plus the second coffee Jensen texted you this morning to beg for. “So I guess Jensen’s around here too, then, right?” she asks perkily, taking your card. 

“Uh...sorry, what?”

She shrugs like it’s obvious. “Since you flew in together,”

You blink rapidly, feeling stupid. You’re obviously missing the punchline somewhere. “We, uh...didn’t. I mean...I flew out of L.A.,” you say cautiously. Your home city is already public knowledge, as is the fact that Jensen lives in Austin, and you can’t imagine she doesn’t know this. 

Her eyes pop wide with curiosity. “Wait, so you’re not staying with him?”

This conversation is too much for your poor, jetlagged, coffeeless brain. “No?” you try weakly, so far past confused at this point that you might actually be getting a headache. “Why would I…” 

Not that Jensen’s Austin house isn’t lovely, and not that you’d object to staying there, and not that you haven’t stayed there plenty of times before, but you’re pretty sure you’re still missing the point. 

The barista lunges forward over the counter, leaning in to ask in a hushed voice, “Did you guys break up?”

An emphatic “No!” leaves your mouth so loudly that the old man in line behind you starts grumbling. “No, you don’t--” 

“Get a move on,” Old Man grouches in the background. “I don’t care who you are,”

“Oh, good,” the girl cuts you off with a relieved grin. “You guys are so cute, you know? I mean, I kinda figured you had to have something going on, but actually seeing it--it’s going to be so much cuter if Dean and Sierra ever kiss now, oh my god--”

She devolves into a squeal, and the we’re not actually dating dies on your tongue. You have better things to do this morning than correct the misinformation of one teenage barista, so you end up just shaking your head and taking the two cups of coffee wearily. “Right, well, I’ve gotta go, so--” you duck around the old man and beeline for the door before anyone can say anything else. Oh, god, your publicist is so going to kill you. 

***

Jared and Jensen are both in the green room when you make it back to the convention hotel, and you groan softly as you walk into the room. Once Jared hears about your so-called relationship, you’re never going to hear the end of it. Then again, better he hear it from you than find it in the tabloids. May as well bite the bullet now before it comes up in a Q&A. 

“Hey,” you slide up to Jensen’s elbow, holding out the requested coffee cup as a preemptive truce. “So, we’re apparently dating now,” 

Jensen snorts, shaking his head and swapping the coffee cup into his other hand so he can wrap his arm around your shoulders in greeting. “Yeah, I saw that.”

“I think I may have given a barista the impression we’ve had a tumultuous breakup,” you say ruefully, tilting your head up to look at him in apology. “Sorry,”

Jensen’s green eyes are dancing, though, and he throws back his head and laughs, still keeping you tucked close enough that you can feel his whole body shake. “Of course you did, sweetheart,”

It’s pretty much the reaction you expected from Jensen, who’s so used to your antics at this point that he just gives you a fond smile and moves on to damage control. Jared, on the other hand, is...not commenting, and suspicion cuts short your quiet enjoyment of being hugged against Jensen. It took the boys a while to feel comfortable messing with you when you first got on set, but after they figured out you gave as good as you got, they’d never yet missed an opportunity to tease and prank you. 

You squint at Jared warily. “Why aren’t you reacting?”

Jared’s lips immediately start twitching, but he makes a valiant attempt at a mock-concerned face. “Oh shit, sorry. Here, tell me again and I’ll pretend like I’m surprised this time,”

Unwilling to bother unwinding yourself from under Jensen’s arm, you extend a childish foot in the direction of Jared’s shins, scowling at him. He dodges easily, laughing, and tosses out, “Someone should really tell Buzzfeed they’re reporting really old news,”

“Shut up and drink your damn coffee, Padalecki,” you shoot back without any real venom.

“Oh, you mean my hotel coffee? The coffee I got stuck with because you only buy Starbucks for Jensen?”

Jensen straightens up proudly, no doubt making a face at Jared over the top of your head. “Y/N just likes me better. That’s why she’s my best friend.”

You roll your eyes, ducking under Jensen’s arm and a few steps away. “You both suck,” you deadpan, resisting an internal wince at the friendzone. “Now shut up and let me drink my coffee, I have to be on stage in fifteen minutes,” 

And God, but your head is way too scrambled for a panel right now. Fifteen minutes is nowhere close to enough time to get your shit together, and you’re going to have to somehow walk out there and not let everyone know. 

You take a seat halfway across the room, watching Jared and Jensen still standing there, heads bowed together, arguing quietly about something. Jensen’s starting to wear an annoyed expression and he still manages to look beautiful and goddamnit this is how you got in trouble in the first place. 

You scroll listlessly through your phone, a headache beginning behind your eyes, and freeze when you realize that you left the damn article open. The headline photo is a picture of you and Jensen on a sidewalk in L.A., caught mid-conversation with Jensen’s hand on your back and a stupid, dopey look on your face while you stare up at him like he hung the moon. Fuck, you’re an idiot. 

A hasty scroll through the rest of the article reveals more of the same, and you could kick yourself for making your dumb crush so obvious. The photo captions are practically mocking you, labelled with things like “an intimate evening for Ackles and L/N” and, under a picture of the two of you at a beach, “We might be a little mad that the two most attractive people are together”. 

Well, at least now you know what every single question at your panel is going to be about. And somehow you have to figure out how to play this off like it’s nothing. Of course I don’t have a crush the size of a mid-sized whale on Jensen, hahaha, that’s such a hilarious idea! 

Your only saving grace is that clearly, Jensen doesn’t think anything of it. It’s nothing more than a brief joke to him and Jared, and as much as that should bring you relief, it still stings to know that he’s obviously never bothered to think of you that way. And why would he? For all Buzzfeed’s nonsense about you making an attractive couple, Jensen Ackles miles above your league. 

You’re pulled out of your thoughts by Misha sitting down next to you, an easy smile on his face as he nudges your shoulder with his own. “So, welcome to the club,”

Typically, you and Misha are pretty close friends, but your patience is too short this morning for any of his shit. “What club?” you shoot back grumpily. 

“People who the internet have declared in love with Jensen Ackles,” Misha returns, grinning like it’s obvious. 

“Ha, ha. See, except when that happens to you, people think it’s funny,”

“It is funny,”

“Not for me!” you explode, belatedly wincing at your harsh tone. “You and Jensen fuck around on stage and that works for you. If I don’t get my shit together in the next five minutes, I’m getting my name dragged through stupid tabloids and laughed straight off the show because I couldn’t keep my goddamn stupid pathetic crush under control!”

“Hey,” Misha waits until you meet his blue eyes. “That’s not going to happen. Okay? It’s not,”

“Misha--”

“Y/N,” Misha returns firmly. “It’s going to be okay. Jensen would never let anything happen to you. And you don’t have to answer anything you don’t want to.”

You sigh softly, nodding. Rationally, you know he’s right. But mostly, as much as you’re worked up about the panel, your fear is that Jensen is going to be the one laughing at you, and you don’t know how to explain that. “Yeah,” you say dully, just as a convention worker comes forward to collect you. 

“If it’s really going to shit, I’ll come distract everyone,”

“Somehow, I think that would be worse,” you shoot back over your shoulder as you start walking to the stage. Breathe, Y/N. You’re fine. 

You wait for the introductions to finish and take your place on the stage, a slightly breathy laugh escaping into the mic as you look out at the crowd. That is a lot of eyes watching your every move. And they’re on your side, you remind yourself. It’s the fans who’ve been tireless supporters of you and your character, this whole time. 

“Hey, guys,” you clear your throat. “What’s up?”

You chatter for a while about whatever you can think of, telling an edited version of the grumpy Starbucks man this morning and rambling a little about Jared’s latest on-set antics. All too quickly, though, you run out of things to say, leaving you with no choice but to ask for questions. 

At first, to your great relief, they’re pretty tame. You spend a solid few minutes breaking down Sierra’s latest character arc, and the time she’s spending hunting on her own. You do get a few questions about whether she and Dean could get together when she gets back with the brothers, but as long as it stays firmly in the realm of your characters, you’re not worried. 

“And what’s your name?” You ask gently, trying to reassure the nervous young woman at the microphone. 

“Uh, Y/N…”

“I love that name!” you wink at her, rearranging yourself in the chair to be more comfortable. “What do you want to know, Y/N?”

“Uh,” she stutters, her face blushing pink. “You’re my favorite actress, and, I, um,”

“That’s very sweet,” you interject, nodding to encourage her. 

“I just, uh, really want good things for you, and I just wanted to ask if, um, areyoureallydatingJensen?” she spits out all in one breath. “Cause you deserve him,”

You blink, shifting in your seat. You’d arrived at the elephant in the room. Damn. 

“Uh,” escapes your mouth as you frantically try to construct a diplomatic sentence. “No, actually, no, we’re not.” I wish. “The, um, the article was a surprise to us too!” You added a little shrug in as punctuation, trying to play it off. 

“But you guys look so cute together!” Other Y/N exclaims. “He looks at you like--” she cuts off, biting her lip so hard you can see the white from the stage. “Nevermind. Sorry.” 

“No worries,” you assure her casually, like you’re not dying to know what she was going to say. “Next question?”

The next one up is another young woman, this time much bolder in her question. “But if you were given the opportunity, would you date Jensen Ackles?” 

God, Chuck, literally anyone please kill me. “I don’t know how to answer this without getting in trouble,” you finally laugh nervously. “This is a dangerous question,”

The audience all laughs loudly, some of them throwing out comments and suggestions. “In the interests of not getting killed in my bed tonight,” you say lightly when they’ve quieted. “I’m going to skip that question,”

There’s really no saving you, though. After that first question, it’s like a dam has broken and everyone wants to know about your relationship with Jensen. What do you think of his house in Austin and does he cook for you and what do you do between takes and where’s your favorite place to go together. Someone even asks if you’re hooking up even if you’re not dating, which you’re positive turns your face completely purple before you get through redirecting that fan. 

An hour later, you stagger off the stage mentally exhausted and thoroughly grumpy. 

“Ouch,” Briana sympathizes, sliding up beside you as you grab a water bottle in the green room. 

“Can’t wait for my dumb red face to trend on Tumblr,” you mutter, wondering darkly if you could just jump out one of the windows. 

Briana laughs like she knows something you don’t, and rubs a hand over your back soothingly. “Come on, let’s get you out of your head before your photos,”

The two of you end up on a walk a few blocks from the convention hotel, fresh coffees in hand and Briana chattering away while you nod along. It’s not that you’re tuning her out, exactly, you’re just...overwhelmed. You do, however, notice when she stops talking. 

“Are you listening to me?” she looks at you sharply.

“Sorry, B,” you mumble. “Got distracted. What?”

Briana shakes her head with loving exasperation. “I asked what you’re wearing to karaoke tonight,”

“I’m probably not going to--” you start.

“Oh, no you don’t. You can’t leave me there alone,” Briana interrupts, folding her arms across her chest. 

“What do you mean, alone? Kim and Rich and literally everyone will be there,”

“You are not allowed to skip karaoke.” Briana says firmly, and you suddenly know how her daughter must feel when she’s misbehaved. “Besides, Jensen’s singing with Louden Swain beforehand. Don’t you want to see it?”

“Fine. But I’m wearing this,” you gesture to your plain black top and jeans. To be honest, you’re not sure if you actually do want to see Jensen perform, or bother with the rest of karaoke night. Mostly you just want to crawl into bed and put the covers over your head and pretend that you haven’t been making a fool of yourself all morning, but Briana is a force of nature when she wants something. 

She smiles excitedly at your acquiescence, pulling out her phone for a moment to type something before you start heading back. 

You nudge her teasingly with your elbow. “Your phone more exciting than me?”

Briana just slides it away hastily before you can read more than Jared’s name over her shoulder. “Just taking care of something.”

There’s something she’s not telling you, but you don’t feel like digging right now. You’re just focusing on getting to the end of this convention without spilling all your secrets and looking like an idiot. 

By the time you’re sitting down in the seats for Louden Swain’s set, your face is indeed all over Tumblr. (You always deny having the stupid app, but sometimes a girl’s gotta know what people are saying about her and her hot costars.) There’s comments full of stupid speculation that you’re hiding your relationship, including a whole thread about how you’re clearly hiding your secret threesome with Jensen and Misha. Great. 

“Uh, okay,” a familiar voice snaps you out of your thoughts. Jensen’s on stage in front of the microphone, holding his guitar. “This was not part of my original plan, so...if this goes badly, it’s all Jared and Briana’s fault.”

The crowd laughs good-naturedly as your gaze snaps immediately to Briana. Infuriatingly, your friend just shrugs. 

“This is a cover of a song neither of us wrote,” Jensen continues, gesturing between himself and Louden Swain behind him. “But I thought it could be fitting,”

He’s nervous, you realize, watching the way he’s fiddling with his guitar strap while he talks. But you have no idea what he’s doing. And you have no idea why he didn’t tell you. The two of you always know what stupid thing the other person is planning, especially stunts in front of the fans. But clearly not this time. With a sinking sense of dread, you wonder if maybe he does hate you a little bit after today, and that article. Maybe that’s why he’s not talking to you. You swallow hard against the sting in your throat, and Jensen starts playing. 

The opening chords are definitely from a country song you vaguely recognize from the radio, and you wonder why this is Jensen’s choice over one of his own songs. 

“Girl, you know I've known you forever / How many nights we hung out together,”

Across the room, Briana has an enormous smile on her face.

“My boys are laughing and tap me on the shoulder / Making a motion like, ‘Could y'all get any closer?’” He punctuates the words with a little scowl in Jared’s direction. 

“There's a rumor going 'round about me and you / Stirring up our little town the last week or two / So tell me why we even trying to deny this feeling / I feel it, don't you feel it too? / There's a rumor going 'round, and 'round, and 'round / What d'you say we make it true?”

There are a lot of people suddenly making noise around you as they come to the same realization that you are, but you’re frozen in your seat. The rumor is you. He’s talking about you. Jensen’s singing for you. And you should be elated but your mind is stuck on a loop of what the fuck there’s no way this is real. 

You don’t even realize that the song is over until everyone is clapping and you’re still stuck staring with embarrassingly wide eyes, Jensen up on stage with an embarrassed dusting of red across his face and a slowly deflating expression. 

“Hey,” Jared’s elbow digs hard into your ribs suddenly. “Please do something. I can’t take any more of him like this,”

“What--oh--shit!” spills out of your mouth as you stand hastily, your phone tumbling off your lap. “I’m just gonna--”

By some miracle, you make it through the crush of people and around to the backstage area, your heart racing unevenly in your chest. You have no idea what you’re supposed to say, or if Jensen will be there, or if you’re even interpreting this right. Maybe it’s all just wishful thinking. No, Jared wouldn’t have encouraged you if that were true. Would he?

You’re so lost in your thoughts that you end up plowing straight into Jensen’s chest, his arm sliding automatically around your waist as you wobble off balance. “Shit, I’m sorry!”

He steadies you, green eyes searching your face with a flicker of vulnerability. “Hey,”

“Hey,” you whisper back. You have no idea what happens now.

With his free hand, Jensen rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “Look, if that was too much--”

“No!” you shake your head quickly. “I’m sorry, I was just...processing. I...it was really sweet, Jen,”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you confirm. “I just… me? Are you sure?”

“Why not you?” Jensen’s face wrinkles in confusion. He moves both hands to your waist, the warmth of his skin bleeding through your thin shirt as he tugs you closer. “Y/N,” 

There’s something in you screaming that you might not get to do this again, that he’s going to come to his senses, that the whole thing is a dream, and before you can second guess yourself you launch yourself up onto your tiptoes and kiss him. 

Your arms go around his neck while Jensen wraps you up tighter against his chest and it’s not fireworks, or earth shattering, or anything so dramatic. His mouth moving against yours just feels like home and love and of course. Of course you were going to get here, of course it was going to be like this. 

Jensen lifts you off your feet for a moment before breaking the kiss, and he looks just breathless and flushed enough that you’re equal parts proud and turned on. 

“Of course it’s you,” he murmurs, one hand under your chin to tilt your head up to him. “Of course I love you. You’re my best friend.”

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