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#there are also a bunch of characters I have to shuffle through so yeah again I apologize I’m doing my absolute best :}
emily-mooon · 5 months
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SCOTT PILGRIM CHARACTERS AS ALVVAYS SONGS PT 2: KIM PINE + BELINDA SAYS
I’ll egress to inverness with nothing in my pocket/ Belinda says that heaven is a place on earth/ Well so is hell
Song
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alovelyburn · 2 years
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I try to understand the reasoning with cycles and generations but I actually fail to get why would that be in any way meaningful? Griffith already got his cycle in a way didn’t he? would him having a child have any narrative purpose? And the fact that it would come from relationship this miserable is just awful. I cannot see how it would affect this story in any positive way
I mean, to be clear here, it's not like I'm championing the cause of Griffith and Charlotte having children. Whether or not it happens has absolutely no impact on my interest in or enjoyment of the story. So, I'm happy to answer, but at the same time, I promise I don't care.
SO OKAY THEN.
Berserk has often and always had a fair amount of emphasis on child characters - from Rickert all the way through to Isma, there's just always been a bunch of them around. But more than that even, it has an emphasis on child-parent relationships, the perpetuation and breaking of cycles, and the question of the I guess next generation (often but not always through Some Kid).
Also, many major turns for the characters or the plot are pushed by child characters and things that befall them, from the deaths of Griffith and Guts' respective (individual) golden ages due to the deaths of children to the Moonkid becoming the route to Griffith's return and Schierke becoming the anchor for Guts' continued stability. Griffith's own self-image is and has always been a child, as well.
I'm trying not to go on and on and on about this, but basically what I'm saying is, in a story that is as concerned with generations, childhood trauma, cycles and breaking or repeating those cycles, it does not strike me as unrealistic that Miura might have considered Griffith leaving a kid behind when he presumably shuffles off this mortal coil would be an appropriate coda to his story.
And even beyond the specific way Berserk in particular uses child characters, children within the context of a narrative (or the end of one) are often used as a pseudo-redemptive mechanism for a character who could be perceived as having gone the "wrong way." The character is... bad, or gone, or dead or whatever, but the child remains. Now whether you think Griffith in fact went the wrong way is another issue, but if we're saying he did then it would not be unusual for a story to do that.
And to be clear, I'm not saying they would literally have Charlotte sit there thinking, yes Griffith was a bad man but HawkBaby will redeem him! It's just kind of the implicit purpose of the trope.
And I don't think Moonkid counts as his cycle because Moonkid isn't generally presented as his son; he's more presented as Casca's son (not even Guts' really, tbh) and Griffith's… host body, like yeah it is in some ways the child of the three of them, but he isn't really presented that way within the context of the story. Also he might not survive the ending anyway.
Ultimately though, the question of whether a kid would have a narrative purpose depends on what they did with it, doesn't it? Something that doesn't exist has the potential for any purpose they're written into.
It also depends on when such a hypothetical person were brought into the story; personally, I usually assume that if it DID happen, it would be coda-level stuff: the kind of thing you find out in the epilogue/final wrapup chapter or something. I tend to doubt that that there would literally be another child walking around the story doing things. There could be, I guess, but it doesn't seem like the timing would work very well, again without another timeskip. Anyway, if it just showed up in the last chapter, then it maintains the aforementioned thematic purposes, but wouldn't need a narrative purpose because its purpose would be be pseudo-redemptive, and to make readers go "aww" at the end of the series or I guess to be happy for Charlotte if they like Charlotte.
Which brings me to my last thought, which is also the only one I can say is a true statement of opinion and not idle speculation:
I don't really think Griffith's relationship with Charlotte could be fairly described as miserable. Charlotte is actively happy, and Griffith is…. fine? Neither of them are really stewing in pain and misery and it's not the first lopsided or semi-political match ever, especially among royalty.
…or, well, Griffith may be miserable but if so it seemingly has more to do with his unresolved emotional issues than Charlotte.
ETA: Oh yeah one more thing. If Griffith dies, leaving an heir would allow his accomplishments to stand without Griffith himself having to hang around in the world ruling like a God-King. He comes to kick start a new era, he brings humanity into one nation, but he does so through means that leave his hands dirty, so to speak. But his kid would have the ability to guide that world without carrying the baggage of Griffith's guilt and the associated actions.
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nochuvalencia · 4 years
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𝐁 𝐁 𝐇 𝐌 𝐌 - jjk
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I was basically inspired by these ^^^ pics of jk bc wow hot hi
⚠️ ALSO QUICK DISCLAIMER :: this is my first fanfic on here so it might be terrible but enjoy anyway. ⚠️
𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 :: reader x crimeboss!jk
𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 :: bitch you better have his money.
𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦 :: ABSOLUTE SMUTTY FILTH heh angst too ig
𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 :: 11.9k
𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 :: long haired tatted jk, that’s it, that’s the warning, uh kinda sketchy plot hsjsjsj, WOW ANGST ASF at the beginning tho, dub!con towards the middle don’t hurt me, fuck or die ig, gunplay????? yeah????? jks BLATANT OVERUSE of pet names, dacryphillia, major-ish character death, describing the injuries on a dead body, jk has a sir kink ig??? um excessive over exaggerated choking bc jks hands yum, explicit seggs, rough jk, he’s kinda mean, dom!jk, sub!reader, oral m&f receiving (facefucking on both ends), coochie sniff if you squint, coochie slaps if u squint too, spanking, OVERSTIMULATION, unprotected seggs, degradation, he calls her a bitch once idk, other bad names, praise too ig, jk gives an ultimatum, SLIGHT aftercare, he kinda like switches from flirty to murderous like a bunch of times it’s kinda weird, jk has an impossibly huge shlong obv, contemplating death, super mature themes, reader is a BIG fucking crybaby, overuse of the word fuck, corruption kink at the end if u squint super hard, also DUB!CON in case you didn’t see it, at this point I should just write what it doesn’t have
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“If you’re not out of my house in 3.4 seconds, I'm dragging you out by the testicles” you uttered, your alarmingly calm voice laced with raw brutality as hot tears cascaded down your burning cheeks, your arm outstretched and pointed toward the blinding light of the hallway that contrasted with your dark bedroom. You said nothing more, with your eyes trained angrily at one of the four blank tan walls nearby, not possibly being able to bear speaking to or sparing a glance into the eyes of a cheating whore. The woman you had just caught him with scurried past you wearily, a terrified and confused glint in her eyes as she passed your frigid frame sans underwear, with her sparkly silver pumps dangling from her fingers and a wrinkly silver dress hanging limply from the clutches of her other hand. The man in question shuffled cautiously around the bed, clutching the exposed parts of his body and approaching you with extreme hesitation and outstretched hands, as if trying to calm the already blazing flames of your fury. He laid a cold, rough hand on your shoulder squeezing softly, a motion that once brought you comfort but only added the all consuming hatred that bubbled up inside you akin to ravenous bile filling up the pit of your belly. “Did you not hear what I said? Get out.” You spat, glossy eyes still pointed toward anything but him.
“____ please” he croaked, like the slimy frog he truly was, his voice dripping in false agony which only neared you closer to the brink of undoubtedly committing an act of extreme violence against that man. “Please baby it wasn’t-'' you blanked. He was about to make an excuse. A stupid, rediculous, horrible, completely false excuse which you had absolutely no patience to hear. So you snapped, harshly shrugging your shoulder and sending his arm flying back to his side. He stepped back, ceasing his incessant chatter as he stared at you, a surprised expression painting his “pained” features. He wasn’t accustomed to you acting like this, you were never one to raise your voice or act out in any sort of way so he stood there, eyes widened in dumbfounded silence and you took this chance, bending down, scooping up as much of his discarded clothing as you possibly could and throwing it in his face, your rage bubbling over into something much more carnal as you inhaled deeply through your nose.
“Shut the fuck up and leave!” He scrambled to catch as many clothes as he could and was taken aback by your abrupt outburst. He stood silent once again though this time, he was making the face he often made when forcing himself to cry. It was the face he made around his mother to get out of family responsibilities. The face he made around his friends when guilt tripping them into buying him drinks, and now he's using it for you. To guilt you into taking pity on his pathetic actions which merely was the catalyst for your unforgiving violence. In an instant you were behind him, heaving him out of the door with your bare hands, pushing with all your might, using the immense pain coursing through your limbs as motivation to drive his beefy frame further and further out of the bedroom, down the hallway, into the living room and closer to the door yelling “I said leave! Leave! Now!” Pushing harder and harder with every word you choked out. The tears began to flow faster, clouding and distorting your vision as your face contorted into an expression of pure anguish until finally, he was forced out of the open doorway and into the main hallway of your apartment building. You promptly slammed the door in his face and the only thought traveling though your mind was ‘thank god she left that door open’ because you wouldn’t have been able to force him through it otherwise.
You stood silently for a few seconds, back to the door, face still slick with tears as the cool wood on your back shook senselessly with every beat of his fist and muffled shout of his voice crying phrases like “____ open the fuking door!” , “this is my apartment too baby come on” and other variations of the sort. Your mind was empty while you remained there, letting the harsh reality sink in like the slowest molasses. You allowed that man, that pig, to take 10 years of your life. 10 years of your prime. 10 years that you'll never get back no matter how much you beg and plead for it. Come to think of it, you had shaped your entire life around him. His influence was there no matter how much you wished it wasn’t. His residue staining your life like the blackest ink of which you would never be able to rid yourself. At the surfacing of these thoughts, you’d finally broke down and cried, like ugly cried. Broken heaves and sobs escaped your throat until you felt like you were suffocating as you slid down the door, not caring if he heard your wails and whines of torment on the other side of the polished mahogany. You actually hoped he did hear, you wanted him to hear the anguish and grief he put you through. You wanted him to hear you cry out all of your attachment and love for him until there was none left, so he knows the tears flowing from your body hold all of the affection you harbor for him. All ten years of attraction flowing out in a gigantic tsunami of grief that can only end in a new start.
Your mind played through all the memories, and the small amount of good times you had with each other while you sobbed mercilessly, also coming to the realization that he never did anything for you. Ever since you were 14 you’d been changing everything about yourself for him, while he merely lived his life, dragging you along like a supportive little puppy and rewarding you with cheap token gifts and mediocre sex once in a blue moon.
He wanted to attend university in your hometown so you abandoned your dream school, which accepted you, to attend a closer college. He made the decision to study abroad, so you had to drop everything and move to Australia for him. He wanted to wait to have kids so you froze your fucking eggs for him. He got a great new job at a large company in Asia, so you dropped everything again and moved to South Korea. You learned Korean for him. You have the same friends as him. You even cut a few family members off because he was “uncomfy” around them. He wouldn’t even go down on you because it also made him ‘uncomfy’, which should’ve been a red flag from the start. You did all of this bullshit in the haze of love. The promise that he’d reciprocate all of it in affection and adoration, which he didn’t, and now you’re sitting in your living room bawling your brains out because you were too lovestruck to see the signs.
After sobbing hysterically for what seemed like hours, you’d sat limply in front of your door, slouching back onto it as if it were a plush armchair and staring blankly into space, your mind completely empty. Feeling overwhelmed and exhausted beyond belief, you leaned forward, groaning in anguish as your tired muscles cried out in distress after being immobile for more than four hours. Crawling over to the couch, you tiredly flung your nearly paralyzed body onto the soft cushions with a sigh, not even bothering to pull the fluffy throw blanket over your body as your entire frame began to steadily shut down. Before your eyes completely shut, you caught a glimpse of the clock perched on the wooden tv stand which read 11:11 and scoffing quietly as you thought to yourself, ‘I thought that was supposed to mean good luck’ and you gave in to the delicious expanse of slumber.
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You were startled awake by the incessant pounding of your now ex-boyfriends fist on the door, again. For the past 4 days since you’d forced him out, he’d show up outside your door at the ass crack of dawn just banging on the door profusely, as if that would persuade you to open it an inch. He had a schedule, he’d come at 5am, before he went off to work, then at 12:30 on his lunch break, then again at 9:45 just to make you miserable before you went to bed. You’re actually surprised the neighbors haven’t complained to the landlords yet. You tossed the blanket off of your sticky body, kicking and thrashing wildly due to the annoyance caused by that nuisance.
You cried more times than you can count during these last 4 days, especially during the times he would attempt to win you over with sappy shit like “baby, you’re my everything, you’re all i’ve ever wanted”, the lyrics to one of your favorite songs or, “you’re my forever ____, you can’t just throw 10 years away babe” to which you cried about for 3 hours after he’d said it, after realizing that he actually wasted 10 fucking years of your life. Anger bubbled up in the pit of your stomach as you listened to the repetitive banging of his fist and at this point you had enough and came to the decision it was finally time to pack his shit. Stomping into the living room, you grabbed a necessary box of bags that sat on the coffee table in the center of the room, figuring you were ready to use it. With a final nod of your head, you marched into your shared bedroom and opened all of the cabinets and drawers that contained the plethora of his belongings and flinging them on the floor, grabbing the box of xl trash bags you’d snagged on your march in here and started tossing things in left and right, not caring about the brand name or the state of the fabric or anything for that matter. All you saw was red as your eyes welled up with tears for the first and probably not last time that day.
“I can’t do this” you sobbed out, voice hoarse as you fell to your knees, ignoring the rugburn that was soon to form on those areas as your shoulders shook with every harsh breath you took. You had been dreading this task. Dreading it only for its significance that once you packed all his things and tossed them out, your relationship would be truly over. You definitely didn’t want him back but this would be the first time you’ve been alone in 10+ years and you were not certain you were prepared for that let alone wanting it. Inhaling shakily, you sniffed, ridding your face of any moisture as you cleared your throat and walked back into the kitchen, grabbing the bottle of chardonnay from your anniversary that fell on the week prior and venturing back into the closet to resume your task. You weren’t much of a drinker but for this task, you’d need a bottle or two.
A few hours later, he’d finally went off to work and you sat in the doorway of the closet, drunkenly dressed in the wedding gown you were made to be wed in this summer still combing through all of his clothing and tossing them messily into a bag that laid open on the floor beside you. You took a swig from the bottle, hissing softly at the satisfying burn that seared it’s way down your throat and rubbing at your puffy eyes with the knuckle of your index finger. The closet was mostly bare, except for a rack with some of his clothes and one rack of semi-expensive clothing his cheap ass reluctantly purchased for you and you glanced around, catching a glimpse of some ugly floral fabric in the corner of the small space. Getting on your hands and knees you reached a limp hand out, taking hold of the horrendous fabric and dragging it out with a groan, eyes wide at the surprising heft of the object in your hand.
It was a pillowcase. A pillowcase full of something brick shaped. You raised an eyebrow quizzically before reaching into the bag and pulling out a fat stack of cash. Taking a sharp intake of breath you paused, staring blankly at the wrapped wad in your hand and cocking your head to the side. You peeked over into the bag after a few minutes, eyes popping out of your skull as they feasted on more huge stacks of money. It was Korean currency but there had to be at least 250k USD worth in the entire sack. You furrowed your brows, tossing the money back into the pillowcase forcefully as a tornado of thoughts whirled in your mind. Had he been saving behind your back? Was he planning on getting rich then eventually hanging you out to dry for some younger girl? How long has he had all of this? Where the fuck did it all come from?
You looked back at the money then back at the corner you found it in, squinting as you spotted some more ugly purple fabric. Crawling behind the clothing earnestly, you managed to fish out 4 more pillowcases full of money. You stifled a laugh, having never been in the presence of so much currency, you guessed it had to be more than 1 million dollars. You smiled for the first time in 4 days, lips curling up into a wide joy filled expression as you dumped all of the money onto the rugged floor of the closet. With all of the alcohol coursing through your veins, (almost a whole bottle) you didn’t hesitate to grab the biggest tote bag you own and stuff as much money as it could hold inside. You figured it was the least he could do after cheating on you.
He deserved to pay, and you obviously deserved a raise.
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It was a full on shopping spree. After throwing all of his shit into bags, you tossed them outside your door and left with as much money as you could carry before he could come back on his lunch break. You even came back to get some more money, just to go out and spend it again. To say you splurged would be an understatement, you spent almost half of the money on clothes, shoes, a hair and makeup appointment, a manicure, a new car, and you even paid rent for six months after taking his name off the lease.
So here you were, struggling up the stairs as quick as you could, due to the fact that it was 9:30 and you were trying to avoid seeing him at his 9:45 visit. Your feet screamed in agony in your new jimmy choo pumps, because you’d been on them all day, and you had at least six shopping bags hanging from each arm, all full with an assortment of gaudy items such as shoe boxes, makeup products, and clothing. You had finally reached the door after a while, smiling at the absence of his bags which meant he took them and swiftly unlocked the door, clamoring in and tiredly dropping the bags in your hands. With a sigh, you locked the door, running a hand through your freshly styled hair as you rid your face of the designer sunglasses that shielded it. Kicking off your shoes, you hummed gratifyingly at the pleasurable feeling of bare feet and shuffled over to your couch, plopping down on the end cushion groggily.
A soft buzz in your back pocket caught your attention as you carefully fished out the new phone you purchased and unlocked it with your perfectly manicured fingers, raising an eyebrow quizzically as the texts rolled in, ‘i thought i blocked him’ you thought, preparing to do it a second time before a few texts caught your attention and you froze on the spot, chuckling heartlessly at his words.
+82 2 2263 5950 : whose car is in our parking spot?
+82 2 2263 5950 : did you already move on?
+82 2 2263 5950 : wow whore
You rolled your eyes, wondering where he attained the gaul to accuse you of a feat such as that. Calling you a whore as if that name isn’t suitable for himself. Even more so than you. You decided to text him back, feeding off of an unknown source of confidence as your fingers furiously tapped along the screen.
me : it’s my car asshole
me : bought it with the money u left me
me :thx baby <3
+82 2 2263 5950 : what money?
me : the money in the closet you didn’t bother telling me abt u dumb fuck
+82 2 2263 5950 : don’t use that money
me : why should i listen to you?
me : you aren’t my bf
+82 2 2263 5950 : no seriously ____ don’t use that money wtf is wrong with u
me : already did bye babe
You blocked him as quickly as you could, face burning with absolute anger as you tossed your phone on the cushion beside you. Who is he to tell you what you could or couldn’t do? You had come to the decision then and there that you wouldn't let him treat you like a child. He wasn’t your dad. Thanks to him you barely speak to your dad. The only thought going through your mind at the time was ‘fuck him.’ Before you could delve into your thoughts any further, it started. His incessant pounding on the door. Again. Although, this time it was much more frantic, desperate. He was much louder with his pathetic pleas and whines, crying out “please don’t use that money!”, “Listen to me god damn it!”, “___ open the fucking door now!” But you stood your ground, ignoring him once again as you did for the past few days.
Just to escape the racket of his wails of desperation, you retreated to your room, slipping on one of his expensive balenciaga sweatshirts you kept for yourself and climbing into the cool blankets, burying yourself under the plush fabric and folding your pillow over your ears. You knew this would be the longest night of your life..
And you were correct, It was the longest night of your life. He never truly got the memo that you would not be coming out to communicate with him so he finally left at around 1:30 in the morning. You had slept horribly, tossing and turning as the aftermath of his cries and pleads left a print on your mind and tormented you at all hours of the night, you didn’t manage to get any real sleep until around eight and woke up a mere five hours later in a state of confusion. It was well past noon and yet it was silent, you had woken up of your own volition, not because of some crazy man outside of your apartment screaming like a banshee. In due time, you had come to the conclusion that he had finally given up and gone about his day without banging on his ex-girlfriend's apartment door like an idiot at all hours of the day.
This theory was almost set in your mind until you heard a knock. Groaning violently, you stared up at your ceiling, eyebrows furrowed as you erased that theory from the whiteboard in your cortex. Fully prepared to ignore the person at the door, you rolled over to your side until another knock was heard. This wasn’t him. This couldn’t be him. The knocks were way too soft, they lacked an element of urgency, desperation. They were simply just way too calm. So, you sat up, swinging your legs over and reluctantly standing up, before making your way into the living room to be greeted with another knock and a smooth male voice calling out. “Miss ___ ___?”
You glanced wearily though your peep hole to be met with a tall male, dressed in a blue and white uniform. “Looks like a cop. He called the fucking cops on me, shit.” you whispered to yourself, voice small as you held onto the door handle. Figuring it’d be worse to make him wait, you opened the door, being met with the warm, dimpled smile, of the decorated individual. “Yes, i”m ____” you respond, shoving your hands into the pockets of your sweatshirt and looking everywhere but him, which probably seems more suspicious than anything but you were too riddled with anxiety to care. The officer clutched a navy blue manilla folder in his hand and opened it promptly in order to sift through its contents.
“Hi, i’m officer Kim.” he breathed out, calmly bowing and resuming his apparent spiel, “do you know this man?” he pondered, raising an eyebrow quizzically as he pulled a photo from his folder with calloused fingers and lifted it, spinning it around to face you. Your eyes widened slightly upon being shown a picture of your ex and you nodded hesitantly.
“He’s my ex boyfriend- well ex fiance I guess.” you responded, voice barely audible as your mind raced faster than the speed of sound. You asked yourself what he could’ve done that was bad enough for the police to show up at your door. Maybe you had been too harsh on him and he had gotten into one to many bar fights, maybe he robbed a bank at gunpoint, maybe he stole some old lady’s car and filled it with off brand mayonnaise before he returned it. All your questions- all your thoughts stopped as Officer Kim responded, running a tired hand through his hair.
“He passed, earlier today.” he paused, giving you time to digest things and you froze, staring at his face blankly as your mind processed what you had just been told and you hummed questioningly, your throat becoming tight with realization. “It happened around five this morning,” he paused again as you stood in complete silence. Sure you hated him but you’d never wish death upon another person, especially him. You hate him now but you were in love with him once too. You hate him now but, he was the closest person in your life. He was all of your firsts, your fiance, your best friend. You thought you wouldn’t be able to get all of that back because of the breakup but now you truly can never get any of it back, because he’s dead. Then, you started to cry, for the hundredth time this week but this one was different. You weren’t crying because you missed him, or wanted him to come back like all the other times, as horrible as it sounds. You were crying because you felt bad. Because of his short life that was ripped from him by the unforgiving hand of death. You weren’t crying because of him, you were crying for him. A hand on your shoulder interrupted your sobs and you wiped your face, glancing up at the culprit with glassy eyes. “I’m so sorry for your loss...” he paused, giving you a few moments to breathe as he rubbed your shoulder comfortingly before speaking again, “but we have an idea of who did it, it would be helpful if you just came down to the station with me for some questioning.” he asked softly as the shaking sobs and whimpers that came from your body slowed to a halt and you nodded.
“Yeah, uh. Let me just go get dressed.” You muttered, smiling up at him softly and shuffling back to your room to prepare. The longest night of your life was about to turn into the longest day.
And you were correct again as you stood in front of your apartment door after the absolute, and I cannot stress this enough, longest day of your life. Your ex was murdered, brutally, and they made sure to go over all of the gory details with you while you were at the precinct, they even took you to see his body, which made you cry because it was mangled almost beyond recognition and you were horrified. Apparently, he had been tortured for hours, which explained all the bruises, gashes, and burn marks on his body, strangled, thus the huge ring shaped mark around his neck, and dumped into a river, which made his body all pruny and wrinkled. You had spent 10 long hours at the police precinct and it was now nearing midnight as you fished your keys from your pocket in order to unlock the door. Inserting your key, you jiggle it around in the lock for a minute before realizing it was already unlocked initially. Figuring you had left it unlocked accidentally in your depressed haze, you pushed your way into your apartment and locked it promptly, pressing your forehead into the cool wood of the door. You sighed softly, relaxing only for a minute as you absorbed your surroundings before freezing as you heard the rhythmic tapping of someone's foot.
“Long day huh?” the voice was deep, one you hadn’t heard before as you remained facing the door, your grip of the handle tightening until your knuckles turned white. He spoke again, “you must be ____.” he murmured softly, sending a terrified shudder down your spine. “I’ve been wanting to meet you but he said you were off limits. You know, he talks about you a lot-...” he stopped himself as if realizing something, “well talked, I mean.” the man mused, an ominous chuckle flowing from his mouth.
“Who are you?” you rasped, attempting to conceal any cowardice but blinking your eyes harshly as your voice broke. You vaguely hoped this was one of your ex’s friends coming to visit, at an odd hour of the night, sitting ominously in the dark of your apartment waiting for you to come home just to say hi but the chances of that actuality was very slim.
“None of your business” the man retorted, a smirk evident in his ominous tone. “Now, let’s get down to business little dove,” you furrowed your brows at the nickname. You had never been called a nickname, especially by a man who randomly just snuck into your apartment one night. Your ex only ever called you baby or babe so little dove was different for you. It seemed endearing in the worst type of way. “I want the rest of my money.” he paused, “I found half of it in a closet here, and he said you might know where the rest is.” he paused again, only this time a sound is heard, a metal rattling of some sort that ricochets off of the walls of the apartment like a stray jumping bean in a pill case. Then it hits you, he has a gun, and he just shook it as if he intends to use it. . “Don’t make me ask again sweetheart.” Your eyes widen and well up as your head falls down, knowing you're going to die today and you take a deep breath, telling yourself you’d be ready for whatever happens so you decide, if you’re gonna die, you should at least know the name of the man that’s gonna kill you so you scrape together every last drop of confidence you can muster and ask once more.
“I said, w-who are yo-” you choked out, in an attempt to hold onto the last shred of your dignity as you blinked back the tears threatening to fall from your glassy eyes. However, your small shred of confidence is promptly ripped from your grasp as the man cuts you off mid sentence, slamming his gun down onto a hard surface with a loud clatter. You jolt, crying out softly as the tears you’d been holding back with all your might fall onto the ground before you.
“I said none of your fucking business bitch where’s my fucking money.” he spat, his sinister tone draing a choked sob from your thoat as you realized, you wouldn’t be getting anything you wanted today. “Answer me” he said, alarmingly calm as the sound of him cocking his gun travels directly to your mind.
“I spent it” you muttered between your soft hiccups and stiffened slightly upon hearing a heavy footstep approach you, then another footstep, and another, and another until they cease, and you can feel the man's warm breath raising the hair on the back of your neck. All your readiness for whatever happens and willingness to die flies out of the window as you lean your head on the door once more, taking a shaky breath as you begin to plead, aware of how pathetic you sound and part of the reason why you have such a strong urge to cry harder. “Please don’t kill me” you whined desperately as you feel the cold metal of the gun barrel resting on your shoulder.
“Relax little dove” he whispered, his lips brushing the back of your ear and sending a chill rushing through the entire expanse of your body. “Just find a way to pay me back and we’re even,” he continued calmly, his raspy voice reverberating in your eardrums as you think through what he just said carefully. You gasp and sniffle, shaking your head softly and lifting it slowly from the wooden door frame.
“I-” you stopped, taking a deep breath and preparing yourself as much as you could for his response then opened your mouth to continue. “I don’t have that kind of money” you whispered hesitantly, shutting your eyes tightly, allowing nothing to escape but the numerous tears that fell to the ground in anticipation of his actions. There was an eerie silence as he contemplated your words before he abruptly turned away, lifting the gun from your shoulder and holstering it in the waistband of his jeans, causing you to let out a wavering breath you’d been holding that entire time. His hand traveled back up, taking refuge on your left shoulder as the other hand made its way up your right arm, the warmth setting your skin aflame and sending a shockwave of warmth coursing through your body.
“There is another way you could pay me back.” his velvet voice rasped, stressing the word ‘another’ in a way that you immediately understood his insinuation and you took a sharp intake of air, bracing yourself for what he was about to say next. But he didn’t say anything for a moment, letting his hands do the talking for him as he gripped your arms softly, using his hands to spin you around and face him. You whirled around, yelping in surprise but stopping when you were met with the most exquisite, carnivorous brown eyes you had ever seen in your life that were accompanied by full pink lips and a tousled bunch of fluffy black hair you just wanted to run your hands through. Even in the darkness of night, the moonlight streaming through the kitchen window illuminated the room enough for you to trail your eyes down his face and get a vivid idea of what he’d look like with illumination.
Yummy as fuck.
Your eyes began to wander down to his exposed collarbone and before they could travel any lower, his fingers roughly grabbed your chin, forcing your gaze upward until you met his borderline cannibalistic gaze, which crushed you into nothing. He cocked his head to the side, a mischievous glint in his eyes as the corner of his lips turn upward slightly. “He was always bragging about you… saying,” he speaks, his sultry tone lulling you into a state of compliance as he spoke, “you’re such a good fuck,” he continues, placing his left hand gently on your waist and stepping even closer, if that’s possible, his soft breath hitting your face with every word as he speaks. “Your sweet little cunt is so tight” he glances down at your lips, running his thumb over your bottom lip “your mouth feels like heaven” he pauses again, running his hand down to hold the side of your neck softly to which you gasp “maybe i’d like a demonstration little dove.” he smiles, a twisted horrifying smile that snaps you out of his seductive trance and back to reality as your eyes widen and you pull yourself quickly out of his hold, running over to the couch and bracing yourself on it.
“No” you cry out, out of breath for some reason as you swallow thickly and shake your head. “No, I'll find a way to pay you back, I promise.” you plead, praying he wasn’t going to kill you on the spot and that he hadn’t noticed your blatant ogling. He probably did but at this point you didn’t care, you just wanted him gone.
“Whatever you say sweetheart” he replied, emitting a dark chuckle “call me if you change your mind, my number’s in your phone” he opened the front door and you glanced back at him, noticing the way his all black attire contrasts with his tan skin, and most of all, you notice the full sleeve of tattoos that ran down his right arm. Heat crawled up to your face as you realized you were gawking again and you nodded in response, feeling unable to form the words to respond with. He only uttered the words “you have a week.” before the door slammed and you were left alone in the dark.
You ran your fingers along the side of your neck where the aftermath of his touch lingered like a searing residue. No one had ever touched you like that, especially your ex. He was the man that took your virginity and was the man there for every time after so you’d become accustomed to his textbook missionary vanilla sex that left you touch starved and unfinished every. single. time. But you’d finish yourself off each time, feeling bad because you thought he was trying his hardest and truly didn’t understand how to please women. But as time went on, you realized he didn’t care about your pleasure and too enveloped in his own release to ever worry about your needs, but were too deep in love with him to care.
Your thoughts were interrupted when your phone went off to signal a text and upon picking it up there were two text messages from an unknown number that sent a shiver down your spine which read.
+82 2 5284 8735 : don’t try to run
+82 2 5284 8735 : we’ll hunt you down little dove
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“Can’t you just take the shit back?” You questioned frantically, clutching the phone by your head until your knuckles turned white, rolling your eyes tiredly when you got no response. “They hung up, great” you deadpanned, plopping onto the couch you had been pacing in front of. It has been 6 days since the man showed up and you were running out of time and hadn’t slept in two days, your mind running frantically with the thought of him coming back to see you nearly empty handed. Well, not exactly empty handed. You had managed to get 253k of the whopping +400k dollars you had spent of his money and after not being able to return the car, manicure, hair appointment, rent, and a bunch of clothes and shoes, you were manic. Some might even say a bit crazy. Many of the stores and the dealership knew you by name because of the amount of times you called them. You dropped your phone into your lap, burying your face in your hands and wishing someone was here to console you through this but the only person you knew even remotely enough to offer any consolation was your ex. You wish he was alive so you could punch that bitch in the face and ask him what kind of shit he got himself into because the man that paid you a visit was most definitely not from corporate.
You sat for a silent minute deliberating if you should text the mystery man and take him up on his offer. You had asked yourself, is it really worth your life? Were you really going to die because you didn’t want to sleep with the hot guy you stole money from? The answer at first was yes because you still had your pride intact then but now, you had been starting to second guess your confidence in getting all the money back. After all, the deadline is tomorrow. You still had your hesitations, the only man who has ever seen you in such a lewd nature was your ex. You didn’t know if you were ready for sex with another person, even if he was the hottest man you’d ever seen. But, against your better nature, you convinced yourself that your ex was gone and this was bound to happen sooner or later, so why not sooner?
You grabbed your phone in earnest before anything inside you could convince you to stop and unlocked it, opening the messages for his number and typing out your text, hitting send before any sort of regret had the chance to sink in.
me : i’ll take your offer
me : this is ____ btw
You placed your phone down on the couch cushions beside you and chewed nervously on the not so fresh manicure that was still on your nails. To your surprise, his reply came in quickly and you frantically reached for your phone as the dings came rolling in.
+82 2 5284 8735 : i know who you are
+82 2 5284 8735 : i'll be there in 20
+82 2 5284 8735 : be ready sweetheart
Your heart thumped restlessly as you shot up from your seat shouting “twenty minutes?!” and you cried out nervously. You hadn’t even seen his face in good lighting and you didn't know his name so you’d basically be fucking a complete stranger which scared you enough as it is but the fact that that stranger held you at gunpoint merely a week prior is what scared you shitless.
In the limited time that he gave you, you decided to freshen up a bit so you hopped in the shower. Your first shower in a few days after your psychotic state worsened. Humming in bliss, you relished in the feeling of the scalding water flowing over your skin as you took your time washing , shaving, and singing, in an attempt to rid yourself of the horrendous nerves that overtook your senses. After reluctantly stepping out of the steamy oasis, you’d decided on a white lingerie set you had gotten yourself for christmas but never got to wear for anyone because your significant other was always “working” or too tired/busy to take the time of day for you. Pairing the set with a matching white silk robe and not bothering to wear any shoes because you’re in your own house, you slicked your lips in a thick coat of gloss and applied some mascara and eyeliner to your tired eyes just to spruce up a bit. You figured, if you put effort into your appearance, then maybe he’d spare your life after the sex. You stared at yourself in the mirror, tying your robe, smacking your glossed lips together and ogling your appearance before a soft knocking was heard from the living room. “He’s here” you told yourself with a deep shaky breath as you vacated the bathroom and slowly ventured toward the door.
You stood silently before the front door, contemplating whether this was a mistake or if it was too late to turn back. As much as you hated to admit, there was no logical solution to your problem that was in compliance with any standing laws. Heck, what you were doing was probably illegal in everywhere but Las Vegas so you had no other choice than to twist the handle, open the door and stare up at the most alluring man you had ever laid eyes on. You ran your eyes all over his body, studying him, his features, his gorgeous eyes, impeccable nose, plush lips, smooth hair, and strong arms that lead to a presumed strong chest hidden under his plain white tee. He noticed you blatantly checking him out to which he placed a finger on your chin, lifting your face up so your eyes met and making you watch as he rolled his bottom lip into his mouth, sucking on it for a moment. Oh how you wished that was your lip.
“You ready little dove?” he asked, his tone seductive and smooth like chocolate as he walked closer to you, closing the door behind him and backing you up until you stood patiently before the couch staring up at him, a wistful glint in your eyes as you nodded. He reached up, using a finger to push your robe off of your right shoulder and cocking his head quizzically. “All dressed up just for me?” he pondered, his eyes trained on the white lace peeking out from under the robe. You nodded, to which he gripped your chin roughly, furrowing his eyebrows at your response. “Use your words sweetheart” he warned, loosening his grip so you could speak in affirmation.
“Yes…” your voice trailed off, thinking of what to call him, as you still didn’t know his name, so you addressed him as you would any man you didn’t know, “yes, sir. I dressed up just for you” you concluded, your voice barely greater than a whisper as the corners of his lips turned up. He let out an animalistic growl at the name you gave for him, obviously satisfied and moved his hand from your chin to grip the back of your neck promptly.
“It’s Jungkook, but sir will do nicely” he basically growled before latching onto your lips with carnal aggressiveness. You whined heartily into his mouth as his tongue slipped deftly into yours and intertwined with yours, causing your mind to fall into a haze as he coiled his arm around your waist, bringing your body flush against his toned frame. You reached up with shaky hands, fumbling with his shirt, eager to get it off of him and gaze upon the expanse of his abdomen. His lips detached for a moment, giving you the chance to pull his shirt over his head, which he gladly obliged and lifted his hands over his head, swiftly resuming their positions when his shirt formed a pile on the floor beside you. You leaned back in, attempting to capture his lips in another phenomenal kiss but he pulled back, leaving you to chase him and whine when you ultimately lose, to which he laughs mischievously, taking his hands off of your body and toying with the silk tie on the front of your robe.
“How do you want it baby?” he pondered, the new nickname sending shivers down your spine as you glanced at him quizzically, as if asking what he meant. He chuckled softly, tugging at the ribbon and opening your robe as he brought his hands up, carefully sliding it down your arms and bending down so his face was level with your collarbone. He placed a gentle kiss there, leaving fire in the wake of his lips as he spoke, his breath cooling the seared flesh, “would you like me to be gentle?” he asked leaving more hot kisses along the expanse of your shoulder and neck, drawing salacious sounds from your parted lips as he brought his hand up to rest at the base of your neck. “Or…” he paused, sliding his hand up and increasing the intensity of his grip on your throat, restricting the blood flow to your brain as your mind became hazy and your eyes rolled into the back of your head. “Do you want me to be rough?” he continued, lifting his head to watch your face as he loosened his grip. “It’s your choice little dove.”
You were elated, ecstatic and a little disappointed when he loosened his grip on your neck. Your ex was always into sex that lindered toward the vanilla side, as mentioned before, so he would never think to try anything like choking, which always intrigued you just a little bit. You wished you would have experienced other styles of love before you met him but you didn't, and this was your chance to try them out now. Your fingers travelled up, lightly grazing over that hand that was tightly wrapped around your neck. Whining quietly you rolled your bottom lip between your teeth, biting it softly as your other hand came up and wrapped around Jungkook’s forearm.
“I wanna try it rough” you mumbled, eyes closing as you relished in the hazy feeling this restriction gave you which only heightened as he tightened his grip.
“Perfect.” he groaned out almost inaudibly as he pulled your face to his, colliding your lips in the roughest, most passion filled kiss you’d ever experienced. He devoured your mouth with gluttonous amusement, his grip on your airway never wavering for a moment as he tongued you down, his carnal need prevalent and present in the thick air of the room. You reached up, completing a task you’d been wanting to do for days, tangling your hand in the messy black mass that fell upon his head, and relishing in the soft feeling of his waves. Then he detached from your lips and moved away, forcing your hands to fall from his hair and onto his broad shoulders, which, while pleasurable to touch, didn’t even come close to frolicking your fingers through his locks. He moved his hand from your neck to your shoulder, to which you whined with a small pout, missing the new contact as he chuckled at your eagerness. He stared at your lips, before leaning down and capturing your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down on it voraciously before he spoke. “Do you want me to put this slutty little mouth of yours to use little dove?” he asked, pulling back as if waiting for an answer, to which you obliged.
“Yes sir” You answered quite honestly in fact, as you felt all your hesitation and weariness about this task slip away. “Please put my mouth to use.” you pleaded, staring up at him, a wanton expression on your soft features.
“You’re so good for me .” he whispered, his soft breath fanning your face as you nodded in agreement, “such an obedient little dove, hmm?” he asked, to which you nodded once again, a bit more frantically this time as you awaited his cue. He used the hand on your shoulder to abruptly push you down with a small yelp so you were seated on the black leather couch behind you, the colder leather contrasting the burning lust in your entire body as you looked up at him. “Get to work slut.” Your eyes widened at the name. Maybe it was supposed to be an insult or he just liked calling you that but you couldn’t help the gargantuan wave of slick that coated your panties at the moment.
You looked down, a bit above eye level with his crotch as you reached up to palm him through his faded blue jeans. His scent was tantalizing, musky, and you couldn't get enough as you stared up at him through your eyelashes, your lips slightly parted as you gazed in awe. He gave you a warning glance, as if scolding you for teasing him for this long and you unzipped his pants. He held out his hand, as if to stop you before reaching behind his pants and pulling his gun from the back of his jeans. Your eyes widened, gaze now trained on the firearm in his hand, a horrified expression on your face as you ceased all actions. Which he noticed, peering down at you, a horrifying smile etched on his godlike features as he opened his mouth to speak.
“Relax darling, I won’t kill you,” he purred, reaching down and weaving the fingers of his free hand into the roots of your hair, grabbing and pulling back roughly so you have no other choice but to meet his dark eyes. “We’re only just getting started.” he lowered the gun, pressing the muzzle into the underside of your jaw, the cold metal like ice against your scalding skin. However, you felt no need to cry, felt no need to fear for your life even as this gun was pressed to your neck, aimed to kill, because you knew he wouldn’t do it. Through the dark facade and ominous gaze in his eyes there was something else that made you trust his inability to kill you. You realized you were enjoying the thrill, the excitement of putting your life in his hands. So, you did what any crazy bitch would do in this situation, you breathed out deeply, relaxing your shoulders and slouching yourself down to push your neck further onto the tip of the gun with a mischievous smile. Jungkook stared down at you in awe, running his tongue on the inside of his cheek and taking his gun off of your neck before tossing it over to the end of the couch behind you.
Resuming your actions with a shaky breath, you tugged his pants down until they fell to his ankles and placed your hands on the sides of his underwear clad hips. You might’ve been inexperienced in his style of fucking but you sure knew how to give a good blowjob, so you got to work, placing open mouthed kisses to his clothed appendage. You looked up at him once more seeing the lust clouded haze that filled his deep brown eyes. After a bit of teasing, you hooked your fingers in the waistband of his underwear, pulling it down in a seductively slow manner as you allowed his needy cock to spring free, and you stared up at it with a gasp.
It was huge.
You didn’t really know what qualifies as huge because the only dick you’ve ever had was around 6 inches on a good day but this alluring appendage swinging before your face had to be at least 9 inches long and you wondered how the fuck you were going to fit it all in your mouth let alone your pussy, which was already aching for it. Your mouth involuntarily opened wider in anticipation of his delicious dick inside and you grabbed the base, with two hands, drawing a hiss from the man that stood over you as he kicked off his shoes and the rest of the clothing that pooled around his feet. You licked teasingly up the sides of his dick, stopping at the tip to swirl your tongue around it, and catching some salty precum when you did. You glanced up at him and he looked absolutely furious in the best sort of way. Frustrated to the max as you teased him mercilessly, only spending meere fleeting moments at the spots which needed the most attention.
Then he snapped, taking you by surprise and using his hand that was still tangled in your hair to hold you still while he shoved his cock in your mouth. You tried to gasp but it merely came out as a small strangled whimper that was cut off as his length reached that back of your throat. You moved your hands to the sides of his hips once again, bracing yourself as he slowly pulled his member out of your mouth, most likely winding up for another thrust. He propelled his hips forward once again, stuffing not nearly all of his cock into your mouth, as his tip grazed the back of your throat. The feeling of him completely filling your mouth had you livid, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you moaned, the vibrations reverberating onto his appendage which drew a salacious moan from his plush parted pink lips.
“Fuck, your mouth feels like heaven.” he moaned out, then he started to fuck your face, tears pooling in your eyes while his dick basically hit the back of your throat with every harsh stroke of his hips as he gripped on your hair tighter. After one particularly hard thrust, he held his length down your throat as tears rolled down your cheeks and you gagged around him. He took his cock out of your mouth, to which you gasped, swallowing the spit that pooled in your mouth with an aroused groan.
“Tastes so good.” you mumbled, not possibly being able to get enough as he shoved his cock back into your mouth and fucked your throat relentlessly. The tension building in you was too much to bear and your need to cum only heightened as his actions resumed. You arched your back slightly, pushing your clothed clit into the black leather cushions of the couch as you gyrated into it slowly, praying he wouldn’t notice and would be too invested in fucking your throat to realize.
You were wrong. He noticed immediately.
He halted all movements, taking his cock from your throat and grabbing your neck harshly, to which you gasped, whimpering as he pulled you up to stand in front of him, cock slapping the front of your body as you stared at his face in anticipation of his actions. You could imagine what you looked like right now swollen glossy lips, and tear stains running down your face because you didn’t bother to wear your waterproof mascara. You never needed it any other time so you figured why would you need it now. Oh how wrong you were.
“Dirty little dove, trying to get off on the couch because you want me that bad?” he rasped, nearing closer to your face with each word and you nodded frantically, basically begging him to do something, anything. “Words” he barked, drawing a cry from your lips as you thought of what to say.
“I want your cock, please sir.” you begged, before he groaned hungrily and captured your lips in a ravenous kiss, taking you by surprise. No one had ever kissed you after they’d fucked your throat before so why would he do it. You didn’t dwell on that thought for too long before melting into his touch and wrapping your arms around his neck. Jungkook took his free hand, trailing it around your body to unclasp the back of your bra, your eyes going wide at the skillful ease of his fingers. He snatched the white lace clothing off of your frame, tossing it to the other side of the room and reaching back up to cup one of your soft breasts in his hand, flicking the nipple with his index finger and making you sigh satisfactorily into his mouth. He leaned forward, taking you with him as he lowered both of you back onto the couch, settling himself between your newly opened legs and never breaking the kiss. He unlatched his hand from your neck, trailing it down your body as the other hand continued to knead your breast skillfully. His burning touch slowly ventured further and further down your abdomen until he reached the band of your panties and abruptly tore the thin while lace from your body to your dismay and discarding it on the floor beside him. You whined sadly, as those had been your favorite pair of underwear but barely had any sort of time to grieve as you felt two rough fingers dip into the wetness of your slit, trailing them up and stopping right over the spot you needed him to be at, pulling a moan from your still swollen lips.
He began kissing a trail down your body, stopping for a mere moment to suck on the pert bud of your free breast before resuming his path of destruction. He moved his hands to settle on the inner sides of your thighs, spreading them apart and sighing as he got a glimpse of the treasure between them. Your eyes widened upon realizing his destination as you scooched away, holding a handful of his tousled black hair in an attempt to grab his attention.
“I-…” you paused, chewing on your bottom lip and thinking of how to word your statement. “i’ve never asked anyone to do that for me before, so y- you don’t have to do it.” you stuttered wearily as the nerves set in. No one’s face had ever been remotely close to your womanhood and the thought of it sent a chill down your spine as you released his hair from your grasp. You wondered what it would even be like. He glanced up at you, eyes dilated as he chuckled, a dark chuckle that made you shiver as he tightened his grip on your thighs, yanking you closer to his face and taking a deep drag of your scent once you were close enough.
“Oh baby I want to” he basically moaned out, licking his lips and glancing down at your glistening slit, the corners of his lips turning up in a hungry smile. You raised an eyebrow, asking yourself ‘why the fuck would he want to do that?’, and ‘isn’t this for my pleasure?’, but all your concerns were answered once he spoke again. “I can’t wait to make you writhe on my tongue little dove” he muttered, causing your cheeks to burn with the intensity of a thousand suns as he talked into your soaking entrance. “... make you beg and cry without even using my cock.” he continued, releasing your left thigh from his grip as he placed a hand on your pubic mound, lowering his thumb and slowly beginning to circle your clit eliciting a loud wail from you. “You think, if I had the power to turn you into a messy little whore all for me just by using my mouth, I wouldn’t use it at any chance I could?” He asked and you whined, nodding as your hips stuttered up in desperate need of more friction. “It’s all about power baby, and I have it all here” he groaned, watching you clench pathetic around nothing.
Then, he finally gave you what you wanted. His hand resumed its grip on your thigh, forcing it away from the other as his thumb was swiftly replaced by his warm tongue licking up and down your wet sex. You moaned, placing your shaky hands on the mounds of your chest, toying with your nipples just to add to the pleasurable sensations he was creating with his tongue. This feeling was unlike any ecstasy you had ever felt and you never wanted it to stop. His tongue slipped deftly into your soaked entrance twisting and turning skillfully as you keened loudly. His warm wet appendage swirling around your wet cavern was the best feeling in the entire world and you knew if he continued ravaging you at this pace, you’d cum in no time. But, you needed this release. You needed to let go of all this pent up sexual frustration you didn’t even know you harbored. You needed to experience your first orgasm in months, if not years, that wasn’t self inflicted and you hoped and prayed with all your heart that it would come soon.
He switched his focus,, moving his tongue up to play with your aching clit and slipping two fingers into your formerly empty hole with a deep groan that reverberated through your core like a powerful vibrator which only intensified your moans and cries of pleasure. You looked down on yourself to see the delicious sight of him devouring your cunt ruthlessly, the sight alone almost tipping you over the edge as you brought your hands up, covering your eyes while you neared completion.
“Jungkook you’re gonna make me cum.” you called out, an exasperated cry leaving your lips when your impending orgasm was painfully ripped away from you as all his motion stopped. You uncovered your eyes, about to stare down when your body jolted, a harsh sting being felt directly on your clit, sending a wave of warmth barreling through your entire body. Then you understood, he slapped you, and you peered down at him, your eyes glassy due to the orgasm that was ripped from your grasp.
“Who? said you can cum.” he deadpanned menacingly, staring up at you through hooded eyes as you leaned your head back tiredly, realizing the error in your words and prepared to beg, just like he said you would.
“Sir” you cried, holding your arms limply over your head as you continued to plead. “Sir please, please make me cum.” you begged mercilessly, a tear of relief sliding down your cheek as he resumed his assault on your core, attacking at a steady pace and retrieving the all too familiar knot that formed in the pit of your stomach. You reached up, grabbing the edge of the couch with an iron grip, your knuckles turning white as your hips began circling on his face, your clit rubbing against his tongue with every movement and venturing you closer to your sweet release.”Please don’t stop sir, oh my god” you whined loudly, fucking his face relentlessly as you chased your high, nearing it more and more with each thrust of your hips until he finally pushed you off the brink of ecstasy, a scream leaving your lips as Jungkook continued his unrelenting attack on your pained pussy.
You rode out your high, writhing and panting before him, his pace never faltering, his fingers never slowing, his tongue never relenting and it soon became too much. The euphoric delirium quickly turned into madness as you barreled down the path into overstimulation. You wailed pathetically, thrashing under his hold as the pleasurable pain consumed your body and you could barely form a coherent sentence but you persevered, scraping all the coherent thoughts you could muster and turning them into tangible words that sat on the tip of your tongue, ready to be spoken. “Sir please, it's too much!” you cried to which Jungkook finally let up, slowing his pace to a halt and sitting back.
“Oh my god that was so fucking hot” he growled before sucking on his glossy fingers and cleaning around his mouth with his skilled tongue as he gazed amusedly upon your exhausted body. But he was nowhere near done with you. This fact made apparent when he stood and wrapped an arm around your hip, lifting your limp body and turning you over with ease, positioning you so your face was pressed into the now warm couch cushion and your ass was raised high into the air before him. His eyes rolled at the view of your swollen cunt bent over for him and he gave it a light smack, eliciting a pained, but tired yelp from you as he chuckled muttering “you’re going to drive me crazy little dove.” under his breath.
He crouched down, coming face to lips with your abused cunt as he wrapped his arms around your bent bottom, lacing his fingers together as they rested at the arch of your back and dragging his nose up the tortured path of your slit, drawing whines and cries of overstimulation from your wiggling frame as you tried to get away from the punishing menace that was his face. “No, please. I can't take anymore, it's too much.” You whimpered, your voice muffled as you leaned your face into the couch tiredly to which he obliged, reluctantly, as he stood, grabbing his neglected dick in hand and pointing it toward your pink entrance.
“I can’t wait to stretch your pretty little pussy ____.” he purred and you moaned at the sound of your name slipping off of his tongue like the creamiest butter. He dragged his tip along your swollen clit, abusing it again for what seemed like the millionth time that day as he covered his girth in your slick, a guttural groan emitting from the back of his throat. Then, abruptly, he sunk into your slippery cavern, barely all the way in but you’d never felt so full in your entire life as he pushed forward slowly, filling you up and providing you with the most delicious stretch you’d ever felt. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you whined, a desperate whine that you could barely register was your own voice as he pushed his length completely inside of you, his head falling back and your name, rolling off of his tongue once again.
After barely giving you time to adjust to his alarming size, he reeled his hips back before slamming into you again, and again, and again, over and over again until he was fucking you at an unrelenting speed you barely knew was possible to achieve. Suffering from the overwhelming pleasure he forced you to endure, you shut your eyes tight, crying out in strangled indulgence as you grasped onto the fluffy throw blanket strewn lazily over the couch in front of you. You relished in the sting of his girth, staring ahead blankly with glassy eyes as he rammed into you with a punishing speed and black mascara filled tears streamed down your cheeks.
You knew you were about to cum soon, again, only due to the all too familiar feeling accumulating in the pit of your belly. Jungkook reached down, placing a hand on your shoulder blade and pressing your chest further into the couch while he drilled into you, moaning and cursing at the feeling of you flexing deliciously around his cock. He felt you were close, so he moved his hand, snaking it around your waist and trailing his other hand to assume its position around your neck, hoisting you up so your back was arched against his abdomen and you had no choice but to stare up at him as he talked down on you, never slowing the snapping of his hips for a wavering moment.
“You’ve never been fucked this good have you?” he teased through clenched teeth as he leaned down, sucking and marking all over the expanse of your neck with grunts and growls of pleasure. You were way too fucked out to even think about the words to form a coherent sentence, barely being able to form whimpered versions of ‘mhm’ after he questioned you but he was having none of that. He unraveled his hand from your waist, tightening his grip on your throat and landing a hard slap to your left asscheek, drawing a shrill shriek from the depths of your throat as he warned in your ear. “Words little dove” he slapped you again, “how many times do I have to fucking warn you.” he concluded, landing another harsh smack to your abused flesh as you whimpered.
“You’re the best I’ve ever had, I’m such a slut for you sir.” You sobbed out, “please let me cum, please fuck” you whined, drawing out your words and you reached back, tangling both hands in his unruly mop of hair as he split you open, moaning directly in your ear which in itself, was a thing that could make you cum on the spot.
“Cum then.” He said obviously, as if it was the most simple response, only it was this simple command that shoved you off the precipice of ecstasy for a second time. The feeling that bloomed deep in your stomach soon blossomed into a full blown orgasm that racked through your body quickly, leaving nothing but white hot pleasure in its wake as your legs trembled viciously, with one last loud cry of Jungkook’s name. But, he still did not falter, his pace quickening as he neared his own climax, the speed both too much and not nearly enough at the same time. You reached back, attempting to push him and escape the all consuming pleasure torturing your body like a blazing fire but your hands were caught quickly by Jungkook’s hands which crossed them tightly and held them behind your back, resuming his attack.
You shook your head, letting it hang as your tears fell freely onto the couch before you, his moans and groans of ecstasy increasing in volume and frequency as he neared his own climax, his hips faltering in their pace for the first time in a while as he worked to his own release. In what seemed like an instant, he released the most beautiful, salacious, strangled moan you had ever heard, pulling himself out of your soaked cunt, and painting the surface of your ass with his white hot ropes of cum. He finally let you go after a moment, watching as you fell limply to the couch, laying face down, panting exhaustively, your arms still crossed limply behind your back as he smirked down at your fucked out frame. He left you alone for just a bit, coming back but a few moments later before you felt the sore skin of your asscheeks being wiped off with what felt like a warm hand towel. You were relieved he had the respect to clean his mess, it made you respect him just a little bit more as a person but you were way too tired to dwell on the subject any longer.
“You did so good for me little dove” he cooed, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it as he placed a sweet chaste kiss on your lower back, caressing his hand up the side of your body. A simple touch that lacked any sort of sexual aspects, it felt comforting and you sighed, leaning further into the soft couch as you heard him begin to put his clothing on. You felt a pang of distress, seeing as you were more of a fuck and cuddle kind of girl, but you really hadn’t expected him to stay so why’d you feel the need to ask him to. Pushing the feeling deep inside your gut, you sighed deeply as he walked in front of you to bend forward and grab his gun that laid discarded on the opposite side of your couch, also grabbing the throw blanket beside it and tossing it over your naked frame before thinking about something. “So,” he started, tucking his gun in the back of his pants and humming, “I’m thinking that was worth about, hmm 50k” he started. You vaguely understood what he was saying and knew you’d flip out once you were conscious enough to truly comprehend his words. “I’ll keep in touch.” He said, pulling his shirt down and smiling deviously at you as you uttered a hoarse ‘huh?’ To which he answered simply, “if I wanna come collect some more money” and he spun on his heels, opening your door and sauntering out of the threshold.
When he got into the hallway, Jungkook burst into a wide smile, satisfied with the encounter he made today. He entered this agreement fully prepared to either fuck you once and take the money you’d earned back or just fuck you and kill you, but once he’d had a taste, he was insatiable. You were flawless, your compliance was impeccable. The way you obeyed him, begged for him, the way you tasted, the way you felt, the way you looked. There was no way he could ever get enough and is probably the reason he kept overstimulating you like a frat boy with a bruised ego. There was no way he was gonna just let go of an absolute gem like you, so he made his excuse, a plan. Everytime you fuck him, you pay back a portion of the money. He was so tempted to tell you this session was only worth $100 just as an excuse to come back over and over and over until he had his fill, but he kept his composure, giving you hope that you’d ever be free of his grasp. Jungkook for once was extremely ecstatic, elated, excited to ruin you even more than he already had and he was dead set on making you want him just as much as he craved you no matter what it took. Though he was pretty sure you already did.
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agustdakasuga · 3 years
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Between The Bloodshed | Chapter 19
Genre: Mafia!AU, Angst, Romance, Fluff
Pairing: OT7 x Reader
Characters: Doctor!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook
Summary: Being a freelance doctor, this was just supposed to be any other job, helping a private client and taking care of him through his recovery. But you were not expecting to get caught in something so much darker that would change your life entirely.
Today’s the day. No more running away. It’s time to face the truth. 
Warning: This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. It may contain depictions of violence, blood shed/ gore and mentions of abuse. Please read at your own discretion.
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When you stirred awake, your eyes widened and you shot up. You looked around the room and realised that you were in Namjoon’s room, the multiple books on the shelves being a dead giveaway. On the nightstand beside you was a scribbled note. 
‘Had to attend a meeting. Take the day off and rest. - Namjoon’
You sighed, falling back onto the bed. Looking down, you weren’t in your dress anymore. You only hoped that the boys weren’t daring enough to change you and in your drunk stupor, you were able to change yourself. 
“Kill me.” You screamed into the pillow. 
*KNOCK KNOCK*
“Go away.” You groaned. 
“Good morning.” Taehyung came in with a grin. You sat up in annoyance, running your fingers through your hair in an attempt to undo all the tangled knots from your sleep. 
“Here, this will help.” Taehyung poked your shoulder. He handed you the hangover pill and a glass of lemon water. 
“Thanks...” You swallowed the pill with the cold liquid. Sighing tiredly, you fell back onto Namjoon’s pillow. Since it was obvious that you slept next to the guy, who is also your boss, you didn’t care that Taehyung was seeing you enjoying the warmth and comfort of Namjoon’s bed. After all, you were too tired and hungover to care. 
“Hey, Taehyung. Where’s Jimin?” You asked. 
“Still sleeping. Whenever Jimin drinks as much as he did last night, he sleeps for a really long time. Like... until the following evening.” Taehyung shrugged. You nodded your head. 
“Do you... feel better? After last night.” Taehyung seemed a little cautious with his question. 
“Do I feel better? Well, I did feel more relaxed last night at the club. But right now, my stomach is churning and my head is pounding so not really.” You chuckled. Seeing that you still joked around, Taehyung grinned. 
“Need help getting back to your room?” 
“I can manage.” You forced a smile. Taehyung just let you grab onto his arm to stand up. He walked beside you just to keep you company. 
“Wait, Tae. Did... anything happen last night when Jimin and I came home from the bar?” You grabbed his wrist suddenly, startling the boy. He blinked, turning to look at you. 
“What do you mean?” He tilted his head. 
“Well, I obviously don’t remember how I even came home last night. And something must have happened for me to end up in Namjoon’s bed. Also, I know how bad I can get when I’m drunk. So tell me, how bad was it?” You interrogated. 
“You weren’t bad, doc. Don’t worry.” He assured. You let out a sigh of relief at his words. 
“You were cute.” He added with a snicker. You froze in your spot as your eyes widened. Just how drunk were you last night? That itself made you feel like throwing up even more. 
“I need to see Jimin and... or Namjoon.” You detoured and left his side. Taehyung trailed behind you as you went downstairs. 
“Wait, I wanted to ask-”
“Oh, (y/n)! You’re awake!” Jungkook ran over to you excitedly, cutting Taehyung off. You gave the youngest a slightly weird look, taking a step back. Why was he so excited?
“What’s wrong?” 
“Nothing. I need to see Namjoon.” You cleared your throat. 
“Oh, come on! You already didn’t want to leave his side last night! And now, you’re already looking for him the moment you wake up! What about me?!” Jungkook growled unhappily. You cupped a hand over your mouth to mask your shock. Behind you, Taehyung was sending signals to Jungkook to stop scaring you about last night. 
“Doc? I thought I heard you.” Namjoon poked his head out from behind the pillar, walking over. You gave an awkward wave. 
“Morning?” You rubbed the back of your neck, embarrassed. Namjoon chuckled, still finding your adorable, as he patted the top of your head. You shrunk back. 
“Uh, Namjoon... I didn’t do anything weird last night... Did I?” 
“No, you’re good.” He ruffled your hair. Before you could question him further, Hoseok came and tapped the watch on his wrist. 
“Listen, doc. We’ll talk when I get back.” Namjoon waved to everyone and rushed off with Hoseok, who winked at you with a giggle. Just then, Jin came out of the kitchen with a maid behind him. The maid placed a bowl of warm rice porridge on the table for you. 
“Here. It’ll make you feel better. It’s abalone porridge.” Jin said. 
“Thank you. I really needed this.” You took a spoon. The boys hung around you as you ate your food. 
“I’m hungover, not unstable. You guys don’t have to wait for me. Go do your work or something.” You raised your eyebrow at them. The boys cast each other looks but didn’t move. 
“It’s okay.” Taehyung said. 
“So, (y/n)-”
“I’m done eating. Namjoon said it’s my day off so run along. Go do whatever you mafia guys do.” You waved them off like little kids. You didn’t even hear Jin as you jogged up the stairs and disappeared into the hallway.
“Yoongi? You there?” You knocked on his room door. There was no reply. Even when you pressed your ear to the door, there was no sound of movement or any grunts. 
“Doctor. Are you looking for young master Yoongi?” The sudden appearance of the butler made you jump. 
“Uh... yeah. But it’s nothing important.” You blushed.
“Young master Yoongi just came back from a lunch appointment. He is in the other wing.” He informed. You nodded your head, thanking him with a pat on the shoulder before shuffling over to the other wing of the house. Your hand hovered over the golden handles of the double doors. The last time you were here, you weren’t exact the most comfortable. 
“Y-Yoongi?” You called out as you entered. For the first time, the wing was so silent and dark. Heading up the stairs, you looked at the various labelled doors that lined the hallways. 
‘Min Yoongi’
You knocked but again, there was no reply. Pursing your lips, you decided to go in anyway. It was a simple office, monochromatic with some dark blues.
“What are you doing here?” Yoongi’s sudden voice shocked you. You turned around to face the male, who had a stoic look on his face. In his hand was a crystal glass with whiskey. 
“Looking for you.” You replied. Duh. He nodded his head slowly, entering the office and closing the door behind him. He took a sip of his drink. 
“Want some?” He shook his glass. 
“No, thanks. Hungover.” You cringed as you pointed to your still throbbing temple. 
“Right. You were quite different last night. I don’t think any of us have ever seen you like that before. You didn’t want to let Namjoon go because of his ‘cute dimples’.” He said. Your jaw dropped slightly as you held your cheeks, totally wanting to bury yourself right now. 
“Namjoon said I didn’t do anything weird.” You whimpered. 
“Right...” Yoongi gave a slightly amused face. 
“Actually, I wanted to talk about-” You were cut off when Yoongi tugged you by your arm into his embrace. He resting his eyes against your shoulder, arms around your waist tightly. 
“Why doesn’t he want to get better?” He whispered, fists bunching the back of your shirt. 
“Yoongi...” 
“I went to see him. He didn’t even want to see me. But I just had to know... why he doesn’t want to be treated. He just... accepts it. Accepts that he is going to die.” He started to shake a little, voice cracking.
“I promised to stay awake if he lets me help him. But even then, he didn’t want it.” You smoothed to back of his head, remembering what Jimin told you. 
“Yoongi hyung always wanted to be close to his brother. But his father never allowed Geumjae hyung and Geumjae’s mother near them.” Jimin explained as he sipped his drink.
“Why?” 
“Geumjae hyung was the son of his past lover. Sure, he allowed the mother and son to stay in the same estate and still provided for them, a little. But as a kid, when Yoongi went to find Geumjae hyung to play, his father would get so angry and punish them, especially Geumjae hyung. That’s when Yoongi hyung’s father adopted Hoseok hyung.” Jimin shrugged. 
“That’s horrible. He’d rather adopt another child than to let both his sons be siblings.” You shook your head. 
“That’s how Yoongi hyung’s father was.” Jimin sighed. 
“I’m glad I never have to meet him.” 
“Once Geumjae hyung was old enough to provide for himself and his mother, he moved them out of the family estate. When Yoongi hyung found them again, apparently Geumjae hyung’s mom had already passed away.” Jimin said. 
“She passed away?” You asked. 
“According to Geumjae hyung, even as his mother grew older, she was mentally unstable. From the heartbreak and abandonment...” 
“I can imagine how hard it must have been for Geumjae to watch his mother go through that, and not be able to get over it, even as she aged.” You felt sad for Geumjae and Yoongi.
“Geumjae hyung’s resentment just... carried on to Yoongi hyung. I guess Geumjae hyung felt that he and his mother were replaced. Rather than blame a dead man, he’d rather blame Yoongi hyung.” Jimin finished, ordering another round of drinks. 
“And even so, Yoongi still wants to help him when he’s sick.” You looked at your empty glass. 
“To Yoongi hyung, just knowing you still have family alive is enough.”
“I’m sorry things turned out like this, Yoongi.” Pulling away, you looked at his face. He looked so exhausted and emotionally drained, even if it had only been one day. 
“You should rest, Yoon. You’ve had a long day.” You told him, taking the glass from his hand. Usually, Yoongi would snap at whoever takes his drink from him but with you, he let you take it without a fight. 
“Let’s go?” Yoongi waited for you at the door of his office. You nodded, walking with him out of the other wing. 
“Jimin will be asleep the rest of the day. He doesn’t usually get tipsy but he does sleep for a while after a night of drinking.” He informed. 
“Yeah, Tae told me.” You chuckled. 
“I hope you don’t mind that Jimin told me a little background about you and your brother. I just wanted to understand a little bit more... which I did. That’s why I was looking for you, to talk to you and maybe, understand a little more.” You said, putting your hands in your pockets. You were ready for him to get angry that you invaded his private life.
“Jimin knows what to share about my past on my behalf. I trust him.” He shrugged and you let out a mental sigh of relief. The both of you stopped in front of Yoongi’s bedroom. 
“Rest well.” You wished. 
“You too.” He forced a smile. Just as you were about to turn to head to your own room, you heard him clear his throat. 
“Actually, (y/n)...” He rubbed the back of his neck. 
“Hmm?” You titled your head. 
“Nevermind.” He shook his head before entering his room and shutting the door. You stared at the black door for a few seconds before you shrugged and headed back to your own room. 
“Jimin?!” You opened your bedroom door and was shocked to see the male in your bed. He was sleeping soundly, hugging your pillow. You fed Kookie his lunch before heading over to peek at Jimin. True to that, he was really fast asleep. You sighed with your hands on your hips. 
“I’m always finding you or Jungkook in my bed. And lately, Taehyung too.” You shook your head but of course, he didn’t respond. 
“At least scoot over.” You chuckled, pushing him to the side before you slid in, under the covers. Jimin didn’t even stir as you moved him or stole your pillow back from him. 
“Goodnight... I guess?” You closed your eyes. 
-
“Wait, you didn’t ask her?” The older ones all asked their maknae with crossed arms. They were in disbelief, having believed that Jungkook would be the first one to ask you to the ball. 
“I was going to. But Yoongi hyung just had to come and start such big drama.” Jungkook glared. Yoongi rolled his eyes with a snort. 
“Well, you did the same to me when I was going to ask her!” Taehyung sneered. Jungkook frowned. 
“I’m surprised you didn’t ask her.” Jin turned to Jimin. 
“That night out was for her to let go of her stress. It was about her, not me.” Jimin shrugged. The boys were all squabbling downstairs. When this whole ‘plus 1′ incident came up, they all planned to individually ask you to the ball that was taking place tonight but somehow, they all kept getting interrupted by each other. 
“She fell asleep before I could ask her. I was supposed to ask her when I got back but I was busy cleaning someone’s mess up.” Namjoon hissed, looking at Jimin, who was more interested in inspecting his nail bed. 
“Can we get back to this? So no one asked her?” Yoongi broke all the arguments and squabbles. 
“You didn’t ask her? I heard from one of the butlers you were with her in the other wing for a while. You could have asked her.” Jin asked. 
“No... There were more important things to discuss.” He crossed his arms. 
“The plan was to have someone ask her! Rather it be one of us than some stranger!” Hoseok said, annoyed. 
“I’m ready!” Your voice was heard. The boys were not ready for what they saw. You were in a light blue dress, the bodice decorated with intricate floral lace patterns and sparkles, the ends of the skirt just brushing against the floor. 
“Wow.” The boys were speechless. It would be cliche to say you looked like a princess but you did. 
“Is it too much?” You raised an eyebrow with an amused laugh. The boys didn’t say anything but shook their heads, you were mesmerising. Although, what was able to break them out of their trance was when you walked forward to sling arms with Jin. He smiled down at you. 
“H-Hyung... Y-You...” 
“Jin asked if I had a ‘plus 1′ to tonight and I was so busy to find someone to go with me. He offered to be my partner for tonight and I didn’t have any objection.” You shrugged. 
“I never said I didn’t ask her.” Jin snickered. The rest all looked at him with wide eyes of betrayal. 
“Let’s go.” Jin patted your hand and led you out. The other 6 trailed behind, glaring daggers into the back of Jin’s head. Jin opened the door of his chauffeur limousine for you. You bowed your head slightly and slid in. 
“Hyung!” Jungkook shouted in outrage. 
“All’s fair in love and war. Don’t worry, I know what to do.” Jin waved the others off. Hoseok went to the other door. 
“Nu uh. This is for me and her. You guys ride separately.” Jin pointed to the other car behind. Their jaws dropped, their cunning hyung already had everything planned. He played them and they fell for it like fools! Unwillingly, they trudged to the car while Jin slid into the seat beside you. You tilted your head in confusion. 
“Don’t worry about them.” Jin chuckled. 
“I’m excited to be going to an event where I don’t have my parents giving me a full briefing on who is who and what is what.” You smiled, smoothing your dress down. 
“Yes, it’s a celebration for you too, doc. You deserve to enjoy it” Jin nodded his head. When the car stopped, the door was opened for you. 
“Good evening.” The staff bowed deeply to you and Jin. 
“Hey.” You greeted them. 
“Bosses!” Seeing you and Jin, with the other 6 behind, everyone in the ballroom stopped to give the 8 of you a deep bow. Namjoon walked down first while you stayed behind Jin. The boys were received with big smiles and hugs. 
“Come on, (y/n). Let’s go to the bar!” The maknaes were quick to steal you when they saw Jin distracted, speaking to the manager for his casino. You giggled, following their lead. All of you ordered your drinks and clinked your glasses together. 
“Don’t you guys have people to greet too?” You asked the 3 boys, sipping from your glass. 
“Nah.” Taehyung waved you off. 
“Are you guys starting the party without us?” The 4 older ones soon joined. They ordered their drinks to toast with you. The 8 of you clinked all your glasses together with cheer. 
“To, doc!” Hoseok grinned. 
“To preventing us from dying!” Jimin added and everyone burst out laughing. You drank your drinks in one shot. 
“I was just doing my job, boys. It was no big deal, really.” You smiled softly, looking at all of them. It wasn’t long until they were all being pulled away by their staff to talk. 
“We’ll be back! Stay right here, I’ll come get you. There’s another surprise for you.” Jin winked. You nodded your head, waving with a smile as he was dragged away. You grabbed a plate of food and stayed by the bar, picking at the food with the forks. Some of the boys’ workers that you recognised came to chat and speak with you. 
“Ah, please excuse me.” You said as you slipped away from the conversation, heading to the washroom. 
“Ugh, finally. Some peace and quiet.” Yoongi grumbled as he stepped out onto the big balcony with his brothers. The others nodded in agreement, finally getting some space to breathe. 
“Where’s (y/n)?” Jungkook asked. 
“Jin hyung went to get her. I mean, afterall, she is his date tonight.” Namjoon chuckled. 
“Ugh, don’t remind me.” Jungkook said sourly. It was safe to say, the other 6 were still not over the fact that their eldest was able to sneak past all of them to ask you to be his partner for the event tonight. 
“Whatever, after tonight, hopefully we’ll all have the chance to take her out on a date one day.” Hoseok comforted the maknae. 
“That’s if she decides to accept us.” Yoongi snorted. 
“I think I see hyung coming! Everyone, stand together.” Taehyung said excitedly. All the boys straightened up, standing in a sort of straight line. But they were not expecting Jin to run out of the ballroom alone, a look of fear and panic on his face. 
“(y/n)’s gone.” Jin announced. 
~~ 
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rosiehunterwolf · 3 years
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There's Sand Everywhere!
(quick shoutout to @fires-of-ninjago for the title idea and inspiration for this- you remember that ask game where people suggested titles for fics and you had to come up with a story to go along with it? Well, he sent in this title, and I came up with this, and liked it so much that I screenshotted it and- here we are!)
Prompts: Summer and Heist
Word Count: 7,922
Characters: The whole gang (including Pixal) :)
Timeline: Between seasons 12 and 13
Trigger Warnings: none (holy shit that's never happened before-)
Summary: It was just supposed to be a day off. A simple beach day. But when your family consists of six ninja and a samurai, including a nindroid convinced he’s a detective, his reluctant sidekick, an aquaphobe, a girl who can command the sea, an unassuming teen who seems to attract every animal he crosses paths with, and a bunch of argumentative idiots, nothing is ever that easy.
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“We,” Kai proclaimed, surveying the room, “Need a day off.”
Lloyd shrieked at the fire ninja’s sudden outburst, falling out of his chair. Jay broke into snickers, and Lloyd shot him a glare.
“Kai,” Zane sighed, “get off the table.”
Kai stuck his tongue out at the nindroid, but hopped down, anyway. “Look at you guys!” Kai waved his hands at the group for emphasis. Papers fluttered to the ground where Lloyd had knocked them in his fall, Jay and Nya were sitting on the ground, surrounded by stacks of books tall enough to be mistaken for some kind of fort, Pixal was gathering some of the papers that had gone everywhere, while Cole and Zane had only just paused in their task of boxing up and carrying crates to the far side of the room. “Filing documents and organizing? Boooring.”
“Tasks which you’ve been a big help with, by the way,” Lloyd grumbled, as Cole offered him a hand and pulled him to his feet. He turned back to the desk, shuffling papers off of the keyboard of his laptop, the screen filled with lines of script and dozens of files that made Kai's brain hurt just to look at.
Nya pushed her reading glasses up her nose. “Jay and I technically aren’t working. We chose to do this of our own free will.”
Kai rolled his eyes at her. “What kind of psychopaths read for fun?”
Jay kicked his leg out, aiming for Kai’s ankle, but Cole quickly stepped between them, stopping the conflict before it could escalate into anything worse.
“We’re not reading them, we’re sorting them in order from most potentially useful to least so. They’re mechanics and engineering books. You never know when they might come in handy in a pinch.”
“Oh, because that’s so much more interesting. If you guys wanna spend all your free time geeking out, fine, what do I care. But what about the rest of you? C’mon, Lloydster. You don’t really wanna spend your entire day doing this,” he gestured at the laptop and paper-strewn desk- “do you?”
“It’s not about whether or not I want to. This stuff is important, Kai.”
“Lloyd’s right,” Zane agreed. “With all the crazy missions we’ve been on lately, we’ve neglected all our paperwork, and taking care of the Monastery.”
“It’s because we’ve been gone so long that we need a break!” Kai argued. “We just got done saving the entire city from an evil video game AI! If that’s not worth celebrating, I don’t know what is.”
“Technically,” Nya remarked, not even glancing up from the book she was skimming, “That was Jay who did that.”
Kai spluttered, ignoring the smug look on Jay’s face. “Okay, yeah, but we helped! And what about Aspheera? Or the Never Realm? That was all of us. And we didn’t have time to properly recuperate from that before we got launched right into Prime Empire!”
Pixal’s brow furrowed. “Y’know, he has a point…”
A frown flitted across Zane’s face. “I suppose we have been working for a long time…”
“That’s what I’ve been saying! Come on, let’s do something fun.”
“Not video games,” Cole groaned. “Jay and I spent the last three days playing a Lava Zombies tournament, and I’m all gamed-out.”
“No, let’s actually go somewhere. Like the-”
“The library!” Jay pitched.
“Or the museum!” Zane suggested.
“No!” Kai snapped. “Man, you guys are so lame. I meant somewhere fun. We should go to-”
“The beach!” Nya cried suddenly, standing up so quickly that she sent a pile of books toppling over. “Brilliant idea, Kai!”
“Wait, no,” he yelped. “That’s not what I was going to-”
But no one heard him. They were already scrambling to their feet, murmuring excitedly to one another.
“Guys, wait!” he cried. “Why would you want to go to the beach? It’s all sandy, and wet, and-”
“Don’t worry, Kai,” Nya giggled, “we won’t let the ocean hurt you.”
“That’s not-” he felt himself turning red as the others laughed. “That’s not what I meant! I just thought… wouldn’t laser tag or something be a lot more fun?”
The others glanced at each other, uncertain. Zane stepped forward. “Let’s take a vote. All in favor of laser tag, raise your hands.”
Kai lifted his hand, but no one else did. He scowled at them.
“And all in favor of the beach?”
Six hands went up.
“Seems like we have a clear winner. Let’s get going, shall we?”
---
“Do you have the towels?”
“All here!”
“What about the sunscreen?”
“Hold on- Jay, did you grab the sunscreen?”
“What?”
Lloyd cupped his hands around his mouth, yelling louder. “Did you grab the sunscreen?”
“Oh yeah, it’s here! Wait, do you have my-”
“Your what?” Lloyd called, walking over to him, passing Pixal and Zane as they came out of the kitchen. The female nindroid sighed.
“Can’t anything get done around here without everyone making such a racket?”
“Nope,” Nya elbowed her playfully. “When you’ve been with these idiots as long as I have, you get used to it.”
Pixal’s eyes widened. “I can’t imagine ever being used to all this.”
Nya smiled. “Did I mention I’m slightly deaf?”
“We finished making the picnic,” Zane told her, holding out the basket he was carrying. “Is everyone ready to go?”
Nya eyed the guys, who were running around the Monastery, barely avoiding tripping over one another. “‘Ready’ is an overstatement.”
“Hold your horses, we’re almost done,” Cole grunted, heaving the large beach bag over to them. “Have a little faith in us, Nya.”
Nya put her hand on her hip, waiting- and a second later, there was a crashing sound followed by an angry chorus of yells from Kai, Lloyd, and Jay.
Cole grimaced, rubbing the back of his head. “Okay, maybe you’re right to not have any faith in us.”
---
After an intense, fifteen-minute argument about what mode of transportation they would take, they ended up deciding on the city bus, and finally, finally got out the door. The bus ride went off without a hitch, for once, (except for a brief panic about not having the proper change for the bus fare, but luckily Zane had a few extra dollars on him), and before Nya knew it, they were staking out an area on Ninjago City beach. She was beginning to think this could actually work out.
Maybe.
“Check out my abs, dude.”
“They’re the same as last time.”
“Are not! I’m way more shredded than last time we went swimming.”
“Okay, that’s just a straight-up lie. I saw you sneak that extra piece of pie last night.”
“You better not be disrespecting my muscles, Flat Stanley.”
“Hey! I’m way more muscly than I used to be.”
“Are you kidding? We call you ‘green bean’ for a reason, and it’s not just because you’re the green ninja. You’re a twig!”
“I’m a twig? Have you seen Jay?”
“Hey, don’t rope me into this, green machine, and, for your information, I weigh a whole fifteen pounds more than you!”
“Yeah, well, you’re also two years older than me!”
“I think the lesson we need to learn here is that neither of you have abs anywhere near as pronounced as mine-”
Zane sighed, rolling his eyes. “Here, guys,” he held out a pouch to the group, “this is a waterproof pouch, you can store all your valuables in here.”
They quickly filled the pouch with phones, watches, and wallets. However, as Lloyd pulled back, he tripped over Jay’s foot, and half the guys collapsed into a pile, groaning.
“Jay! Get your foot out of my face!”
“Right after you get your elbow out of my ribs!”
Nya turned away from them, shaking her head. Glancing at Pixal, she asked, “Wanna help me get set up?”
The nindroid nodded, and they pulled the large picnic blanket out of the bag, unfolding it to lay it across the sand.
“Lloyd Montgomery Garmadon,” Kai cried, “You get back here right this instant!”
Nya looked up from the blanket to see Kai running through the sand after Lloyd, his feet sinking into the sand with each step, making it difficult for him to retain his balance. He waved a bottle of sunscreen at the green ninja. “It’s sunny out today! And you know how easily you burn!”
“No way!” Lloyd whined. “You always make me stay out of the water for at least twenty minutes to let it set, and it’s way too hot for me to wait that long! I wanna go swimming now.”
Kai lunged for him, and Lloyd yelped, barely dodging out of the way.
“Over here, Lloyd!” Jay cried, already wading into the shallows of the ocean. “He won’t follow you into the water!”
Lloyd hurried after him, splashing up water as he went, accidentally splattering Kai and causing the red ninja to flinch back with a yelp. Sure enough, he froze at the water’s edge, glaring at Jay and Lloyd, where they stood, only about ten feet away, laughing at him.
Zane rubbed a hand over his face, sighing. “They’re both going to get skin cancer, aren’t they?”
“At the very least, they’re going to be bright red tomatoes,” Cole laughed. “Oh, it’s going to be a blast when they take showers.”
Zane stared at him, horrified. “Please don’t let Jay do that again. He had the worst blisters, last time-”
Cole held up his hands. “It was a joke, Zane! A joke!”
Zane narrowed his eyes and didn’t reply.
Nya laughed, grabbing Pixal’s hand. “Come on. Wanna go bodyboarding with me?”
Pixal glanced at her. “I don’t know how.”
“That’s fine.” Nya stepped on the board, flipping it up into her hand and handing it to Pixal, before grabbing a second one for herself. “I can teach you!”
“Thanks, Nya.”
As they walked down towards the shore, they passed Kai and Cole, who had finally managed to get Jay and Lloyd out of the water. Cole had his arms locked around Jay, preventing him from running away as Kai slathered sunscreen across his face. Lloyd was sitting in the sand beside him, pouting, his face already smeared in white.
Nya grinned at him. “Can you guys handle yourselves for twenty minutes if Pix and I go out bodyboarding?”
Lloyd stuck his tongue out at her, and Kai rolled his eyes. “We’ll be fine, Nya. I think you’re forgetting we save the city on a regular basis? We’re perfectly capable.”
Nya put a hand near Pixal’s ear, whispering loudly into it. “Betcha anything the beach will be on fire by the time we get back.”
The two ran off, giggling at the sight of Kai’s smoldering glare, before he could set them on fire.
---
To Kai’s credit, he did not set the beach on fire, or anything, for that matter, but when Nya and Pixal returned, they found him and Cole shoveling sand onto Zane, who was chest-deep by this point.
“Zane!” Pixal exclaimed. “Are you alright?”
“When Kai told me he had something fun to show me, this wasn’t quite what I had imagined.”
“Aww, come on Zane!” Kai grinned. “I’m having a great time.”
Pixal shook her head, and stepped forward, grabbing Zane’s hand and pulling him up, sending sand cascading down everywhere. Cole and Kai groaned.
“Aww, come on, Pix, that took forever!” Cole muttered.
“Yeah, we were gonna shape it into a mermaid tail. Don’t you know how funny that would’ve been?”
“Humor is subjective.” Zane rubbed at his wrists. “Augh, now I’m going to have sand in my gears for weeks.” Shooting a glare at Kai, he added, “I’ll remember this the next time you ditch your swimming lessons.”
“Hey!” Kai yelped. “That’s totally different! Sand is warm, and solid, and most importantly, not dangerous!”
“You could suffocate,” Zane pointed out.
Kai scowled. “You’re a nindroid, you wouldn’t have suffocated.”
“You’re related to an elemental master of water. You won’t drown.”
“Being related to a master of water and being a master of water are two very different things! I control fire, not water, I can’t do anything to protect myself.”
Cole rolled his eyes. “You’re so lame. Remind me again why we brought our friend with aquaphobia to the beach?”
“Technically,” Zane said, raising a finger, “the word you’re looking for is thalassophobia. Kai doesn’t fear water in general, only large bodies, such as-”
“It was his idea,” Nya interrupted. “If it weren’t for him, we’d still be at the Monastery, filing papers.”
“I never suggested the beach!” Kai snapped. “That was your idea!”
“Yeah, well, your suggestions were lame. The beach was the obvious choice.”
“Hey,” Pixal interjected, suddenly realizing they were missing a couple of people. “Where are Jay and Lloyd?”
Cole sighed, pointing up towards their stuff, where Jay and Lloyd were struggling with a large, yellow duck inflatable that was very much not inflated at the moment. Jay had his lips around the mouthpiece, his face red.
“Blow harder, Jay,” Lloyd insisted, hovering by his side. “You’re hardly doing anything!”
Jay pulled his head back, breathing out heavily as the redness faded from his cheeks. “I’d like to see you do better! You’d probably pass out after a minute.”
“Would not!” Lloyd snatched the floaty away from him, blowing hard into the mouthpiece, putting even less air into the floaty than Jay had. His face reddened as he huffed desperately, although he still wasn’t making much progress. After a few moments, Jay pulled it away from him.
“Okay, that’s enough. I don’t want you to actually pass out.”
Lloyd glared at him, panting. “I wasn’t… going to… pass out.”
Jay sighed, grabbing the inflatable and staring at what looked to be the eyes and a very flat, crumpled-looking beak. “At this rate, we’re never going to get Mr. Quackington blown up.”
Lloyd’s nose wrinkled. “Mr. Quackington?”
Jay blinked at him. “Yeah, that’s his name.”
“No, it’s not! His name is Mr. Waddles!”
“Mr. Waddles? What kind of juvenile name is that?”
“Oh, like Mr. Quackington is any better!”
“It is! It’s loads better!”
“Nuh-uh.”
“Is so!”
“It’s not!” Lloyd snapped, green energy sparking between his fingers. Jay glanced down at them thoughtfully. “Hey, what if…”
Lloyd was evidently catching on to Jay’s train of thought, his eyes lighting up. “We can use my powers to inflate Mr. Waddles!”
Jay narrowed his eyes. “Quackington.”
Lloyd bared his teeth, the small fangs glinting. “Waddles.”
Jay sighed. “Okay, whatever. We can use your powers to inflate Mr. Waddles.”
Lloyd grinned widely, whether about the promise of getting his inflated duck or having won the name debate with Jay, Pixal couldn’t tell. He held up a hand and formed a basketball-sized sphere of green energy. Jay’s eyes widened, and he held the mouthpiece up to the energy. Lloyd channeled it inside, watching with glee as the duck puffed up, the yellow plastic slowly tinging green, making the duck look like he was about to be sick.
Zane took a step forward, holding his hand out. “Lloyd, wait-”
There was a sharp snapping noise as the floaty popped, and Lloyd and Jay cried out in horror as the yellow pieces of plastic fluttered to the ground. Lloyd fell to his knees, gripping the busted plastic and wailing, and Jay landed next to him, crying, “No! Mr. Waddles, you were so young!”
“I can’t believe he’s really gone,” Lloyd sniffed. “He was my best friend in the whole world.”
Kai threw up his hands. “Great. You spend the last several years of your life looking out for him only to get replaced by his inflatable plastic duck.”
“Oookay,” Nya said, walking over to Jay and Lloyd and ushering them towards the picnic blanket. “Someone’s obviously been out in the sun too long. Go sit under the umbrella and let’s have something to eat.”
“Good idea,” Zane agreed. “I’m sure we’re all getting hungry. Jay, could you grab the picnic basket? It’s right behind you.”
The lightning ninja grabbed the basket, peering inside briefly as he carried it towards them. “I hope you brought the Pringles. I could really go for some of those right now- augh!”
Before anyone could stop him, Jay was falling to the ground, the basket flying out of his hands and landing sideways in the sand.
“Jay!” Kai cried. “Look what you’ve done to our picnic!”
“Hey! That was totally your fault! Why did you leave your shoes right in the middle of the sand, perfectly positioned for someone to trip over?”
“Why were you clumsy enough to get in the way of my shoes?”
“Guys, guys, it’s okay,” Zane assured. Walking over, he carefully lifted the basket out of the sand. “I’m sure it’s still salvageable.”
“Yeah, but now all our food is going to taste like sand,” Lloyd moaned.
“Lloyd, the food barely touched the sand,” Nya pointed out.
“Doesn’t matter. Every time you go to the beach, if the food gets even remotely close to the sand, it always gets sand in it. Every time. It’s one of the great mysteries of the universe.”
“Well, I think you’ll survive,” she said, passing Lloyd a sandwich and a bag of pretzels. Lloyd took them, but narrowed his eyes.
“Brings a whole new meaning to the word ‘sandwich.’”
“Just eat your food, mister.”
Lloyd shot her a glare, but grudgingly obliged. As Pixal bit into her own sandwich, she realized Lloyd was right, she could feel granules of sand between her teeth as she chewed.
“Hey… at least it adds a little crunch, right?” Cole grinned.
Kai grimaced. “Next time, I elect we don’t let Jay anywhere near the picnic basket.”
Jay chucked a grape at him, but Kai turned at the last second, catching it in his mouth. “Ha!” His gleeful expression faded as he caught sight of something behind Jay. “Um, Lloyd, you have someone you wanna introduce us to?”
The group turned to see a seagull had approached them, tilting its head where it stood only a couple feet away from Lloyd. The green ninja was staring at the bird with wide eyes, an awed expression on his face.
“Lloyd,” Nya sighed, “please don’t tell me you fed it.”
“He’s not an it,” Lloyd snapped. “His name is Scully.”
“Great.” Nya rubbed her hands over her face. “We’re already into name territory.”
“Scully?” Kai’s nose wrinkled. “Isn’t that the name of the seagull from The Little Mermaid?”
“No, that’s Scuttle,” Lloyd sniffed. “They’re completely different.”
“Lloyd,” Pixal scolded, reaching for Lloyd’s wrist just as he tossed another chunk of his sandwich at the seagull, “Feeding wildlife is not a good idea, it can be dangerous-”
Lloyd shrieked suddenly as the bird launched itself at Lloyd’s face. He scrambled to his feet, screaming, and Kai lunged forward, pushing the others out of the way. “Move, move!”
“Get it off me, get it off me!” Lloyd shrieked as the bird’s wings flapped in his face, sending feathers everywhere.
“Blast it with your powers!” Kai called, looking worried but keeping a respectable distance.
“I can’t! He’s on my face!”
“Well, I can’t do it, I’ll set you on fire! Nya, you do it!”
“I’m trying, I’m trying,” the water ninja spat through gritted teeth, globes of water already forming in her hands. “I just need to get a clear shot! For the love of… Lloyd, stop moving so much!”
Lloyd hardly seemed to hear her. “He’s going to claw my eyes out,” he wailed, batting weakly at the creature.
“Nya!”
Nya quickly thrust her hands forward, sending a large ball of water at Lloyd’s head, drenching him and the seagull. The bird squawked angrily, falling to the ground.
“Oh my gosh, are you okay?” Nya and Kai darted over to him, Nya taking his face in her hands as Kai peered over her shoulder. A small red scratch stretched across his left cheek, but apart from that, he appeared unharmed, just frazzled.
“Dude!” Kai cried. “You just got attacked. By a seagull!”
“It owned you!”
Lloyd shot Jay a glare. “Did not.”
“You should have seen your face!” Jay laughed. “Oh wait, you couldn’t- there was a bird in the way!”
Lloyd crossed his arms. “I’d like to remind you how you reacted that time when my uncle set that berserk chicken on us.”
“The chicken had lightning powers. Hardly comparable to a simple seafowl, bud.”
“Ugh, I hope this doesn’t get infected,” Nya muttered, running her finger along the scratch. “We should probably get you checked for rabies when we get home.”
“Nya, I’m fine,” Lloyd groaned, pushing her off. “A seagull isn’t going to give me rabies.”
Nya shrugged. “With your luck, I can never be sure.”
“This is why you don’t give food to wild animals, Lloyd, it makes them bolder-”
“Watch out, Lloyd!” Jay shrieked suddenly, and they whipped around to see the seagull had caught its second wind, squawking as it charged at Lloyd.
Lloyd shrieked, taking off down the beach with the seagull in pursuit. Nya sighed, putting a hand on her head. Kai grinned, walking over to her and putting a hand on her shoulder. “Do you think he’ll learn his lesson?”
“No,” Nya said without hesitation. “Absolutely not. That’s the sad part.”
“Hey,” Cole said, pointing a finger down the beach. “The volleyball court’s just opened up. You guys wanna play?”
“Sure. Tell Lloyd he can join us when he gets that seagull taken care of.”
Nya glanced towards the green ninja, who was currently lobbing balls of energy at the bird and missing by an embarrassingly wide berth. “Looks like it could be a while.”
---
“Great job, team!” Nya cheered, high-fiving Pixal and shooting a grin at Cole. “Although, if I’m being honest, the rest of you didn’t put up much of a competition.”
“Hey, don’t look at me!” Kai snapped. “I was carrying the team! Jay, Lloyd, were you planning on helping me anytime soon?”
“I was trying!” Jay insisted. “But you kept getting in my way!”
“Because every time I let you get the ball, you dropped it!”
“Hey! I never said I was good at volleyball, okay? Why are you attacking me, Lloyd sucked too!”
“It’s not like I ever had time to fit in volleyball practice between all my green ninja training! It wasn’t exactly a top priority!” “Are you telling me you’ve never played before?” Kai spluttered.
“I’ve played!” Lloyd insisted. “Uh… once or twice.”
Kai facepalmed. “Why did I let you come on my team?”
Lloyd grinned widely. “‘Cause you love me.”
Cole elbowed him. “It’s because he lost the coin toss and Nya got to pick first.”
“Hey!” Jay yelped. “Are you telling me you would have picked me last?”
“After I saw you play, yeah,” Cole snorted.
“I’m still not convinced on some of those calls, Zane,” Kai said, walking over to the nindriod. “I don’t think that one play near the third point was a foul.”
“Hey, the ref’s call is law,” Nya smirked. “Stop trying to cheat your way to victory, Kai.”
“I’m not cheating! Zane’s girlfriend is on your team! He’s obviously biased!”
“I’m a nindriod, Kai. I cannot be biased.”
“Stop being a sore loser, Kai.” Behind her, a wave swelled up. She raised her hand- then pointed it forward at Kai.
Her brother shrieked as the seawater drenched him.
“Nya! What’d you do that for?”
“You deserved it, with all the whining you were doing. Besides, you looked hot. I was just doing you a favor.”
“It’s alright,” Lloyd laughed. “You can share my towel, don’t worry.” As he handed Kai the towel, the fire ninja eyed it shrewdly.
“It’s got ducks on it. Of course it does.”
“Hey, you want the towel or not?”
“No, I’m taking the towel.” Kai wrapped the towel around himself, shivering, unfurling the ducks for all to see. Cole snickered, and Kai shot him a glare.
“Should we pack up, then?”
Zane nodded. “If we want to be back in time for dinner, probably.”
The team trudged back to their blanket, wet and sandy, but chatting amiably. They had nearly packed up all their things when Lloyd cried out suddenly.
“Where’s my wallet?”
Zane frowned. “Didn’t you put it in the valuables pouch?”
“I thought I did, but…” he paused. “Oh, wait. I tripped over Jay. I must’ve forgotten to put it in after that.”
“Well, then, it’s gotta be around here somewhere. What color is it, Lloyd?”
“What do you think? Green.”
They spent a good ten minutes searching through their entire bag and the surrounding sand, to no avail. It quickly became clear that if Lloyd’s wallet had ever fallen around here in the first place, it wasn’t here now.
Kai shrugged. “Oh well. It’s not that big of a deal. You don’t have any cards, and I don’t think you were carrying any of the cash. We can get you a new one.”
“No, but I had the things in there!”
Cole frowned. “The things?”
“You know.” Lloyd lowered his voice. “The things. That the mayor gave us?”
“What?!” Jay yelped. “Those were in there?” “You lost them?” Kai cried. “Lloyd, how could you?”
“It’s not like I did it on purpose!” Kai groaned, rubbing his face. “We should’ve never trusted you with them. Or at least split them up, so they weren’t all together.”
“I still do not understand.” Pixal frowned. “What are these things that are so important?”
“They’re a top-secret gift from the mayor,” Jay whispered. “We’re not supposed to tell anyone we have them. Not that telling anyone now would matter anyway, because we don’t have them anymore.”
“It’s not my fault!” Lloyd insisted. “It’s that stupid seagull’s, he’s the one who distracted me-” Lloyd paused, his eyes widening. “That’s it! The seagull must’ve swiped my wallet when it was chasing me!”
“Looks like we have a lead,” Kai growled.
“Wait a minute, does anyone else hear that mysterious music-”
“Oh no,” Pixal muttered, putting a hand on her forehead. “Zane, please don’t tell me you’re going to do this again.”
“It seemed that, after only a few weeks, it was time for me to crack yet another case.” The odd, deep voice rang out, and they turned to see Zane slipping on a fedora.
“Where did that even come from,” Pixal despaired. “I’m positive you didn’t bring that with you. Positive.”
“Again, I was to be accompanied by my trusty assistant, but this time, my highly trained ninja associates would also be coming along, all determined to reclaim what someone had stolen in the heist.”
Jay glanced between Pixal and Zane. “What is happening right now? Am I supposed to know what’s happening?”
Pixal shook her head. “It’s a long story. Just go with it.”
Zane tipped his hat down. “Already, we were off with a very promising lead. I suspected the culprit to be the feathered fiend that had been spotted lurking around at the scene of the crime only an hour prior.”
Kai snorted, placing a hand on Jay’s shoulder. “Oh, this is gold! Did you mess with his voice again, Jay?”
“No, I didn’t touch him! Pixal, you didn’t…”
She shook her head. “Believe me, I wouldn’t do this if you paid me. It was all him.”
Jay grinned. “What do we do next… detective Zane?” He and Kai simultaneously burst into laughter, leaning against each other for support.
Zane side-eyed them. “The primary suspect was as clear as a black bear in a snowstorm, yet the whereabouts of the creature were still unknown. It had vanished into thin air, without leaving so much as a trace in its stead.”
“Hey,” Lloyd said suddenly, leaning down to pick something up off of the sand, “What about this?”
“It appeared to be part of the plumage of a species of avian native to these shores. Could it belong to the specimen we were looking for?”
Kai plucked the feather from Lloyd’s fingers, examining it. “The feather was white with a dark tip, definitely having originated from a seagull- although the spiked, disturbed edges implied that this was from no ordinary gull- it was from one who had recently been in a fight.”
Jay grinned. “It seemed like we had hit the jackpot. Already, we were one step closer to tracking down this culprit.”
Pixal groaned. “Don’t you two start, too. It was bad enough with just Zane.”
Nya grimaced. “Yeah, this is already getting annoying.”
“How is a feather going to tell us where the seagull is now?” Cole asked.
“I could sense the wind was blowing in from the northwest,” Zane narrated. “If we wanted to find the culprit of the caper, we would have to walk upwind, hopefully leading us to the source of the feather.”
“Alright,” Pixal sighed, “let’s get this over with.”
“And so,” Zane grinned, “The Great Gull Caper began.”
The team trudged up the beach for about twenty minutes, to no avail. They passed many other beachgoers, pointing and staring as the ninja passed, but no seagulls were in sight.
“Are you sure about this, Zane?” Pixal asked.
“The feathered suspect had gained an hour’s head start in its escape from the scene, meaning we would have to hasten our pace if we ever hoped to catch up.”
“Oh, I am not walking an hour just to find this thing. Are we sure it’s that important?”
“Yes!” the guys yelped in unison.
“It’s a very important gift from the mayor! It would be rude to lose it,” Jay said. “We have to get it back!”
“Couldn’t you just ask for another… whatever they are?”
“No! They’re one of a kind!” “Well, can we at least hurry this up? Frankly, I’m getting quite tired of Zane’s shenanigans.”
Zane grinned at her. “Although she voiced her disapproval, my assistant knew the efficiency of my methods, as they had gotten us out of a pinch the last time things had been amok.”
“First of all, I was the one who successfully found Dyer last time. You just ended up getting caught.”
“Perhaps, but you used my techniques.”
Pixal huffed. “Second, I don’t appreciate that you keep calling me your assistant. If anything, we’re partners!”
Zane adjusted his fedora. “So it was a promotion she was after, eh? Well, if my assistant could prove her worth by properly complying with my techniques in this case, she may find herself with a loftier position in the future.”
Pixal sighed. “Whatever. Let’s just find the stupid bird, and go.”
The group trekked after Zane again, and Pixal wondered how long they would be here, when Zane suddenly stopped, causing half of the gang to crash into him.
“What?” Jay yelped. “What’s wrong? Why’d we stop?”
Zane pointed near his feet. “It seemed like the culprit had been careless enough to leave behind tracks in the sand.”
Pixal peered over his shoulder. Sure enough, the tracks of some avian species left a trail in the sand- and after consulting her database, it appeared to match the foot of a seagull.
“We’re getting closer!” Cole said. “It has to be around here somewhere.”
Nya’s eyes went wide, and she pointed towards something in the distance. “Look!”
Down the beach, a large group of seagulls was flocking around a half-eaten pretzel, flapping their wings and squawking as they tried to push past each other.
“It could be any of them,” Lloyd despaired. “How are we going to know which one was the one who stole my wallet?”
Jay smirked. “There’s only one way to find out.”
Lloyd eyed him nervously. “How?”
“One seagull, in particular, has come to associate you with food. One seagull has been known to chase you down.”
“Oh,” Lloyd paled, taking a step back and waving his hands. “Oh, no, I do not like where this is heading…”
“Come on, Lloyd, do it for the team,” Cole pleaded.
“You are the one who lost them in the first place,” Kai agreed. “It’s only fair.”
Lloyd groaned. “Why do I let you bully me into these things?”
“Go on,” Nya gave him a gentle shove. “We don’t have all day!”
Sticking his tongue out at her, Lloyd stepped forward, towards the seagulls. Several of them looked his way, a few flapping their wings anxiously and squawking in warning. Lloyd stopped, swallowing.
“Um. Hey. I don’t suppose any of you have seen a green wallet around here?”
Jay rolled his eyes. “They can’t understand you. Get closer!”
“Okay! I’m going, jeez-” he broke off with a yelp as a seagull darted in front of him, nearly tripping him as he stepped on its tail.
The seagull shrieked, and, in a flurry of feathers, the flock broke into a frenzied panic. Lloyd’s eyes widened, and he cried out, running away and frantically ducking swooping seagulls.
He darted behind Kai as a last nervy seagull hopped after him. Kai held up a fist, which burst into flame, scaring the bird off. Kai glanced back at Lloyd, amusement sparkling in his dark eyes. “You okay, bud?”
Lloyd glared. “Don’t look at me like that. These birds are vicious!”
“Look!” Pixal pointed at a gull that had remained behind. With the others out of the way, she could see the small, green wallet between its beak.
“That’s the one!” Cole cried. “After it!”
For ninja, the group was embarrassingly unstealthy as they clamored after the bird, shooting elemental powers at it and screaming as they narrowly avoided each other’s blasts, so that by the time the seagull reached the water, the beach was a mess of crystalized sand, crevices in the ground, and various burn marks from fire, lightning, and energy.
“It’s a seagull!” Nya cried. “We’ve faced giant snakes, lords of darkness, elemental masters, Oni, more criminals and gangsters than I can count, and an evil video game AI, yet we can’t catch one measly seagull? It shouldn’t be this hard, you guys!”
“It’s getting away,” Jay cried, pointing at the bird, who had finally taken flight and was heading out over the ocean.
“No!” Lloyd moaned. “Now we’re never going to get it back!”
“Not on my watch,” Nya growled, racing past them towards the docks. “Come on!” “Oh no,” Kai groaned. “Nya Smith, whatever you are thinking, stop it right now, because I’m not doing it.” “Come on, Kai,” Lloyd insisted, grabbing his wrist and yanking him along. “We have to hurry!”
They raced after Nya, who was running down the dock towards a man who was examining the boats. Kai followed them more slowly, taking careful steps.
“Sir, we need to use a boat, right away! We’ll pay for it, we promise!”
The man shook his head. “Sorry, ma’am, but these are all private boats. The only one we have is that one,” he pointed to a small, worn-looking fishing boat, “and the motor’s broken, so it’s of no use to anyone.”
“It doesn’t matter, I can take care of that. Everyone, get in!”
“W-wait,” the man stuttered, looking flustered.
“We’ll bring it right back, I promise! Now, come on, we don’t have much time!”
“No!” Kai insisted, as everyone else piled in. “Nuh-uh. No way. Not in a million years. You are not bringing me out into the middle of the ocean in a tiny, crowded boat with a busted engine!”
“You don’t need an engine when you’ve got me!” Nya raised her hand, and the water swirled under the boat, rocking it slightly. “Now, come on, we don’t have time for this!” “Y’know what.” Kai took a couple of steps back from the boat. “I’m good. I’ll stay here. You guys have fun finding the wallet. I’ll cheer you on from the beach. The dry, dry beach.”
“Nope.” Cole reached forward, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him in. “This is your gift we’re saving, too. If you want to get part of it, you’re coming with.”
“Finally!” Nya huffed. The water rippled beneath them, and suddenly, it was propelling their boat, and they were off.
“Where’s the bird?” Nya asked. “Does anyone see it?” “Over there!” Cole pointed slightly towards their left, where the seagull was gliding away with surprising speed. Getting into the boat had slowed them down, and it had gotten a large head start.
Nya gritted her teeth. “Hold on.”
“Don’t go faster!” Kai yelped from where he huddled near the middle of the boat, protectively sandwiched between Lloyd and Cole. “If you tip this boat, I will never forgive you.”
“I know what I’m doing,” Nya growled, although the boat slowed slightly as they continued.
“Our team continued to chase the thief, determined to put an end to the Great Gull Caper and put the culprit to justice. Even when our path took us across the raging waters of the ocean, with nothing but a rusty, broken old boat, and deep, swirling waters around us, filled with the dark abyss and the creatures that lurked there…”
“You mean like sharks?” Lloyd perked, peering over the edge. “Did you see any? I wanna see one!”
“Nope,” Kai yelped, pulling himself into a ball as he sat down on the floor of the boat. “Nopety nope nope nope. I’m done. I’m outta here.”
“The prospect of sharks was a dire one, but one we were willing to take. We would get that wallet back, no matter the cost- even if it meant competition from this fierce predator of the sea.”
Kai screamed into his hands. “Just end me now!”
“What Zane means to say,” Pixal said, elbowing Zane sharply, “is that sharks are actually very off-put by the taste of human flesh, and do not go after humans on purpose.”
Kai stared at her. “Oh joy, now a shark can devour my flesh by accident, what a relief.”
“Do not worry, Kai,” she told him. “There is only one estimated death by shark per year in the greater Ninjago City area.”
“Knowing my luck,” Kai grumbled, “I’ll be that one.”
“Did anyone bring their phone with?” Lloyd asked. “I wanna get a good picture when the sharks come for Kai.”
“I call dibs on his katana,” Jay exclaimed. “Y’know, the super flashy one with the flaming dragon carved into the handle?”
Lloyd wrinkled his nose at him. “Why would you want a fire dragon on your katana? You’re the lightning ninja!”
“Hey, just because my element is lightning, doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate a super dope fire design when I see one-”
“Guys,” Cole sighed, pushing his way between the two arguing boys. “No one is getting eaten. We’re perfectly safe here, on this boat.”
“Cole’s right,” Pixal agreed. “The sharks around this area are smaller, reef dwellers, and won’t come after us. They may, however, come after our seagull friend if he gets too close to the water.”
Kai made a noise in the back of his throat, and Cole scowled at her. “Thanks for the help, Pix.”
“Nya,” Jay whined, “the seagull’s getting further away! We have to go faster!”
“Don’t!” Pixal cried. “This boat has not been manufactured to withstand a lot of weight. With seven people, especially when two of them are titanium, going too fast would be sure to capsize us.”
“I told you I should’ve stayed behind on the shore,” Kai wailed.
Lloyd leaned further over the edge, raising a hand to his forehead to keep the glare off of his face as he peered intently into the water. “Is… is that a shark?”
Kai stared at him. “Shut up. You’re just baiting.”
Lloyd shook his head, his eyes lighting up in a way that was not reassuring in the slightest. “I’m not! It’s a shark! It’s a real, live shark! I’ve never seen one this close before! Except at like, an aquarium!”
Kai closed his eyes, rocking himself gently. “You’re lying. You stupid liar, I hate you.”
Cole peered over, following Lloyd’s gaze, and promptly bit his lip. “You have got to be kidding me.”
“This is a dumb prank, you guys!” Kai was half-yelling by this point.
“Stop being so loud,” Lloyd hissed. “You’ll scare it!”
Kai blinked at him. “I’ll scare it?”
Lloyd crossed his arms. “A scared shark is an aggressive shark.”
Kai’s mouth snapped shut.
“I can’t believe this,” Cole muttered. “Did we really not bring any weapons?”
“No!” Lloyd yelped. “Cole, you wouldn’t!”
“I would if it kept us from being eaten.”
“For the last time, sharks don’t eat humans!”
Cole ignored him. “Well? Did we?”
Nya snorted. “Why would we bring weapons to the beach?”
“Hey, with how often this city gets attacked, I wouldn’t be surprised.”
Nya rolled her eyes. “It was supposed to be our day off.”
“It’s fine,” Pixal reported, keeping a careful eye on the shark. “It’s swimming away now. As long as we leave it alone, we’re safe.”
Kai frowned. “Looks like the gull isn’t so convinced, though.”
Pixal glanced up. Sure enough, the seagull was eyeing the shark nervously, pumping its wings as it flew higher and higher above the surface of the water.
“Do something!” Jay shrieked. “If we don’t stop it now, it’s going to get away for good!”
“Lloyd!” Nya cried. “Is your wallet waterproof?”
“What?”
“Just answer the question!” “Yes! Yes, it is!”
Nya gritted her teeth. “Hold on, everyone!”
Suddenly, a vast wave rose out of the water, looming over the seagull.
Kai’s eyes widened. “Nya, be careful, you’ll hit us too-”
But it was already too late, the wave crashing down, downing the seagull, and soaking them in saltwater. The team cried out, and Kai screamed, throwing his arms over his head in a futile attempt to protect himself. As they all tried to lurch away from the spray, the boat rocked precariously, and, for a horrifying moment, they were suspended there, on the point between balance and capsize.
And then that moment was over, and they were all falling into the ocean.
Pixal’s world immediately dimmed as she plunged into the water, quietness enveloping her like a blanket. For a moment, she was too shocked to do anything, until a foot thrashed past her face, snapping her out of her trance as she swam towards the surface.
A couple of feet before she reached it, a metal hand snatched her wrist and pulled her the rest of the way up.
“Pixal!” Zane cried, his detective voice dropped. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine. What about everyone else? Are we all here?”
Zane nodded his head behind her, and she turned to see the others all within a couple of feet. Cole had his hands on the now upside-down boat, trying to use his strength to push it over, but it was hard for him to get a good grip and stay afloat at the same time. Just behind him, Jay was spitting out a mouthful of seawater, sending ripples across the surface of the ocean as he treaded water. Lloyd was doing the same a couple of feet away, only the green ninja was struggling a lot more because of the arms wrapped tightly around his neck.
“Don’t let me go, Lloyd!” Kai yelped, although the feat would’ve been impossible even if Lloyd had wanted to- the fire ninja was clinging to him like a barnacle. “I can’t swim!”
Lloyd sighed. “I know that, Kai. It’s the only reason I’m letting you hold on to me like this.”
“I can’t believe this happened,” Kai cried. “We’re going to die out here. This is the worst day off ever.”
“Hey!” Lloyd snapped. “It’s not my fault this happened!”
Nya shot them all a sharp glare from where she was drifting alongside the boat. She didn’t even bother to tread water like the rest of them, instead using her powers to keep herself afloat. “It was going to work until you guys made such a big fuss about getting a little wet and tipped the boat.”
Cole sighed. “We’re not going to die. As soon as I get this right side up again, we’ll climb up and get out of here. Can you give me a hand, Zane?”
As the nindriod moved to help him, Kai suddenly went rigid.
“Lloyd,” he whispered.
“What, Kai?”
“Something just bumped my foot.”
“It’s probably just seaweed, Kai,” Lloyd sighed, looking down- and promptly froze.
“No one. Move.”
Jay squeezed his eyes shut. “Oh no, oh gosh, don’t tell me that’s what I think it is, this is not happening-”
“Jay, shut up,” Nya whispered, her face pale as she watched the dark shape lurking below them in the water.
“Everyone, stay calm,” Pixal murmured. “Don’t make any sudden movements and try to look it in the eyes.”
“Please, the last thing I’m gonna do is look at it,” Kai breathed, burying his face in Lloyd’s hair.
After a moment, the shark slowly swam past, losing interest.
“It doesn’t care about us,” Zane realized. “It wants the seagull.”
Several yards away, the gull was floating on the water, still trying to shake off the moisture from Nya’s wave. Suddenly realizing the danger it was in, the bird raised its wings- and launched itself into the air, just as fierce jaws snapped against empty air where the seagull had been less than a second ago.
Kai’s fingers dug tighter into Lloyd’s shoulders, and Pixal caught Jay biting his lip as he swallowed back a scream, but, its prey lost, the shark was already swimming away.
“Gotcha,” Nya murmured, reaching a hand out and snatching up the wallet, which the seagull had dropped in all the commotion, before it could sink to the bottom of the ocean.
“Okay. That’s great. We got it. Now can we get out of here?” Kai pleaded.
After a minute, they finally got the boat flipped over, and Cole hauled himself aboard before helping to lift the others. Ten minutes later, they were all safely out of the water and on their way back to the dock, and Pixal had never felt more relieved by the fact.
“So,” Jay asked, as the boat glided through the water, leaning closer to Nya. “Did they survive all that?”
“Let’s see,” Nya murmured, opening up Lloyd’s wallet. Pixal leaned forward, anxious to see what all the fuss had been about.
“Yes!” Jay cried, pulling out seven slips of paper. “They’re all here!”
“Wait.” Pixal snatched one from his hand, quickly scanning it. “A summer pass for free all-you-can-eat ice cream from the Dairy Dragon?”
“Yup,” Jay smiled, passing them out to the others. “The mayor gave them to us as a gift after we saved the city from Prime Empire. That’s what we were going to do today, after the beach, actually.”
“You’re telling me,” Pixal deadpanned. “That we just risked our lives. For free ice cream.”
“Free ice cream is free ice cream, Pix.”
“You’ll understand once you’ve tried their butter pecan,” Nya told her. “It’s to die for.”
“Butter pecan?” Jay spluttered. “No way, the Ninjapolitan is best.”
“You heathen, chocolate fudge is obviously the best flavor-”
“What are you guys talking about, mint chocolate chip is superior!”
“You just like it because it’s green.”
“Do not!”
“Do so!” Nya sighed, putting her head in her hands. “Here we go again.”
“Calm down, all of you,” Pixal said. “You can get whatever flavor of ice cream you want. Just do me a favor and try not to end up capsizing us in the middle of the ocean this time.”
Jay hummed. “No promises.”
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Pushing Him Out Of The Way And Getting Hit By A Volleyball
Genre: Fluff
Characters: Kuroo, Tsukishima, Iwaizumi, Osamu
Warning: Lots of swearing in Osamu’s part. Also head injuries???
A/n: I think this is the longest piece of work I’ve written so far. It’s like 2k something words. I hope you like it! I tried to keep it general reader but may or may not have made reader female in Iwaizumi’s part. Enjoy!
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KUROO
You joined the boys at the summer training camp as a temporary manager. Your boyfriend was super grateful because Yamamoto would finally stop whining about not having a manager he could show off to Karasuno. And you being with him all week was a bonus.
It was a match between Fukurodani and Shinzen High. Nekoma had just won their nth game against Karasuno, so Kuroo and a bunch of other teammates were observing the game between the Owls and the other team.
You were hanging out with Karasuno's managers, sparing occasional glances towards your boyfriend. Kuroo kept looking at you too, smiling fondly and wriggling his eyebrows at you, making you laugh.
Bokuto spiked the ball with all his might, it deflected off the blockers' arms and flew full speed towards your boyfriend who was currently looking at the data that Shibayama had graciously gathered. Everything was in slow motion as your feet moved by themself until you were pushing your boyfriend aside with all the force you could muster. 
Kuroo stumbled backwards, almost falling on his ass. The ball hit you on the head with a loud resounding smack, everyone gasped as you fell to the floor. "Y/n!" Kuroo called out in a panicked voice as he rushed to your side and helped you sit up.
"Are you okay? Can you hear me? Do you know who I am? Where are we? What is the date?!" You groaned, "Ughh, Tetsu quiet please, my brain feels like it's rearranged..."
Kuroo sighed in relief. Bokuto also came running and crouched beside Kuroo who was holding you up, "Y/n-chan! I'm so sorry!" he apologised, his eyes almost brimming with tears. You waved your right hand, your left still clutching the side of your head, "It's okay, It's not your fault," you reassure him.
"Let's get you some ice, okay?" your boyfriend says, his voice laced with worry. He helps you up and supports your weight as he leads you to the infirmary with one of the coaches.  
Kuroo holds the icepack to the side of your head, you groan at the pain. He coos at you. "Why did you do that?" he asks softly. You shrug but wince, "Dunno. It just kinda happened. I didn't want you to get hurt," you smile at him. He removes the icepack and kisses the injury as tenderly as possible.
You grin, "Did I make your heart flutter?" he chuckles and pinches your cheek, "Absolutely, my knight in shining armour," he teases. You both smile at each other, most fondly.
Kuroo cups your cheek with his palm and leans forward, you both close your eyes as your lips connect in a sweet kiss. His lips moved against yours gently but passionately. He pulls back, running his thumb over your cheek in gentle circles. You look at him, brows scrunched and slightly pale.
"What's wrong?" he asks, face still close to yours. "I'm about to throw up..." you say, hands clamped over your mouth, your face almost turning green.
"Oh... OH HOLD ON!" he panicked. "BUCKET. LET ME GO GET A BUCKET!" "Bleeerrrgghhh!" "Y/N!!!!!"
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TSUKISHIMA
Yo! Imagine Third Year Tsukki. OOfff! The flavour!
It was during practice, a bunch of first years were practising serves as Yamaguchi and Kageyama were supervising them.
Tsukishima was taking a small break, grabbing his water bottle and drinking from it. You approach him with his towel and gently dab the sweat from his face and neck. "Take it easy, babe," you say as you drape the towel over his neck. Tsukishima hmms in reply.
It became a routine for you to hang out at the volleyball gym and wait for your boyfriend on days where you didn't have your club activities. Today too, you were sitting on one of the benches with Yachi and Takeda Sensei; giving Tsukishima his towel or water every time he took a break.
The two of you were in your own little world when you hear one of the first years scream, "Senpai watch out!"
Apparently, a first-year had accidentally served the ball in the wrong direction, it was flying towards you and Tsukishima.
Without thinking, you nudge your boyfriend aside, the ball hits you smack dab in the middle of your forehead. You screw your eyes shut and place your hand on your throbbing forehead, "Owww..." you mumble. Even though it was not a strong serve, the ball still hit pretty hard, causing an angry red mark to appear on your forehead.
Tsukishima glares maliciously at the first year who yelps in surprise and quickly bows, "I'm so sorry!" he repeats over and over again, head still bowed. You roll your eyes and smack your boyfriend on his arm, "Kei! It was an accident!" you turn to the first year and smile, waving your hand in dismissal, "It's okay, just be more careful next time."
"You should still get it checked at the infirmary. See if you've got a concussion or not," Coach Ukai suggests. "I'll go with Y/n," Tsukishima says as he grabs your hand and takes you to the infirmary.
After the school nurse clears that you don't have a concussion and suggests that you rest a little while before going home, Tsukishima grabs your face in both his hands and examines the redness, "Are you an idiot?" he asks exasperated.
You pout and scrunch your nose, "And here I thought you would thank me for saving your face!" you hmph and cross your arms. Tsukishima smirks as he pinches both your cheeks and pulls, "My face? It would've hit my chest at most Y/n."
You smack his hands away and glare playfully at him, "Ungrateful asshole," you mutter. Tsukishima sighs and gently touches your forehead, "Does it hurt?" he asks solemnly. "A little," you reply, "Kiss it better?"
With a sigh, he leans forward and gently places his lips on your red forehead. Then he pushes you down on the bed, "Rest, I'll come get you after practice."
You nod as you lie down and close your eyes. "Promise me, you won't bully the first-years..." you say before your drift off to take a small nap. With a fond smile that you couldn't see Tsukishima says, "I won't... not too much."
True to his word, Tsukishima didn't terrorise the first years. Well, he didn't bully them as much as he wanted to. At least, he held back because he promised you.
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IWAIZUMI
No girls were allowed in the gym when the team was practising because of a certain you-know-who. No girls were allowed except for you. That was because you had zero interest in the pretty boy setter, Oikawa; you were only there for one and one man only, your absolutely amazing boyfriend, Iwaizumi. It helped that you were not annoying like the setter's fangirls and you also helped out as a temporary manager.
Just like all the other days, you enter the gym. Iwaizumi sees you and runs to you to greet you. "Hey, babe!" you greet as he holds your hand and smiles at you. 
Oikawa was currently practising his killer serve while the others were taking a break. He hit the ball hard, but somehow messed up the trajectory and hit it directly in his best friend's direction. "Shit! Iwa-chan!" 
You gasped and pushed Iwaizumi behind you, the ball hitting you right on your head. "Y/n!" Iwaizumi yells in alarm, "Are you okay?!!"
You blinked once, then twice, then turn your head towards your boyfriend, "I think I'm okay..."
Oikawa and the other teammates come running towards you, "Crap! Y/n-chan I am so sorry! Are you okay?! We should take you to the nurse."
Before Iwaizumi could yell and cuss at the setter, you spoke up, "You have to be careful Oikawa! What if you hit someone who couldn't take it? It's dangerous, have more care!"
Everyone, including your boyfriend, stares at you incredulously. "Y-y/n are you sure you're okay?" Iwaizumi asks confusedly. You nod, "Yeah! But who is that man in a black suit?" you say, pointing behind Oikawa. "What man?" "That man with the white face," you say, still pointing. "I don't see anyone-Y/N?!" suddenly you fall to the floor in a heap, passing out on the spot.
You wake up with a groan. "Ugh! Where am I?" you say as you sit up. "In the infirmary," you yelp when you hear your boyfriend's gruff voice. "Hajime! What happened?" you asked. Your boyfriend sighs as he sits next to you, "Oikawa spike-served the ball on your head," he answers. "Y/n-chan I am so freaking sorry!" you finally notice the other third years in the room. "Oh, hey guys!"
Hanamaki snickers, "No wonder you met the grim reaper." You look at your boyfriend in bewilderment. "You said you saw a man in a black suit before you passed out," he informs you. "Ohhhhh..." you didn't know what to say.
Soon after checking up on you, the others shuffled out of the infirmary, leaving you and your boyfriend with some privacy.
"So..." you begin but wince as he flicks your forehead. "Idiot!" he scolds, "What were you thinking! What if you got hurt even worse?!"
You pout, "I'm sorry! My body moved on its own! Besides, I couldn't watch you get hurt!" 
He sighs and runs his hand through his spiky hair, "It's better for me to get hit than you," you smile fondly. "Did that scare you?"
Iwaizumi blushes and looks away, "A little..." You coo at him and kiss his cheek, "I'll be more careful next time."
He gets up and helps you gather your bags, offering to walk you home. As you two make your way towards the gate, you see Oikawa waiting for you guys. He waves at you guys and Iwaizumi shows him the bird making you roll your eyes and elbow his side. "Should I ram his head against a wall?" "Don't be like that Hajime, I'm fine!"
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OSAMU
Today was just an unlucky day for you. First, you almost slipped and fell face first in front of your entire class, then your hair almost caught on fire in the science lab. You were exhausted to the point where you started to drag your feet.
Osamu had offered to walk you home after practice, so there you were, sitting on one of the benches, watching the boys practice.
"Rough day?" your boyfriend asks as he sits down next to you, wiping his sweat. "Don't even ask 'Samu," you sigh. He furrows his brows in worry and gently pats your back. You guys watch the court, Atsumu practising his jump serve. 
"Oi! 'Samu!" he calls out to his brother. "Come practice spiking with me!" he yells. "No thanks," your boyfriend replies listlessly. Atsumu growls and fucking spikes the ball towards you guys. As if on instinct, you push Osamu aside. The ball hits you hard right on your face, and you fall back off the bench, hitting your head on the wooden floor.
"Y/n!" Osamu calls in alarm. You hear Atsumu mutter "Shit!" as he comes running to you, you look up, face blank. Osamu helps you sit up. Kita and Aran gather around you asking if you're okay.
Osamu grumpily stomps over to Atsumu, you hear another "Oh shit!"
The twins literally get into a fistfight! You're still on the floor, all but forgotten as you watch Osamu and Atsumu roll around on the floor pulling each others' hair. "Why did you hit Y/n!" "I said I was sorry!" "You fucking did not! You shit pig!" "Fucking bitch!" "Piss head!" "Fuck stain!" "Dick wad!"
While you're watching, confused out of your mind, you feel wetness trickle down your nose. Lifting your hand up to your nose, you touch it, the moment you pull back, you see blood staining your fingers.
"Y/n's bleeding!" someone exclaims. Suddenly, Osamu and Atsumu freeze in their spot. Osamu rushes to your side, grabbing his towel and holding the clean end to your nose.
Atsumu also rushes to your side, "Shit Y/n! I'm so fucking sorry!" he apologises. You wave your hand in dismissal, unable to speak as Osamu is holding the towel to your nose.
Later, when Osamu is walking you home, your nostril is stuffed with tissue. You're dragging your feet beside him. "Today has been a bitch..." you chuckle dryly. Osamu looks at you worried and hugs you to his chest. "Sorry 'bout today..." he mumbles. 
He pulls back and cups your face in his palms, he leans forward and kisses the bridge of your nose, his touch almost ghost-like. "Wanna go eat ramen with me?" he asks. Your face lights up as you nod frantically.
Osamu chuckles and gets on his knees, his back facing you, "Hop on," he says, "I'll carry you."
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Just a feeling- Saul Silva x Female!Reader
Pairing : Saul Silva x Female!Reader
Word Count : ~2300
Warnings : Fluff, brief mention of drug use and burns
Music : Un homme - Jérémy Frerot
Author’s note : Getting pretty stressed because of a huge project at school, so I wrote this to blow off some steam ! I also wanted to say that I do not agree with the way some characters are written and treated in this show. I hope I did not perpetuate these errors, and that I got Silva’s personality a bit right at least. Feedback is appreciated, may it be on the story telling or even the grammar. English isn’t my first language. Flahs-backs in italics. Enjoy ! :D
GIF ‘s not mine, and I can’t find the creator.
French First World songs resonate in the Great Hall, she is dancing. Wild and free. Her loosened hairs fly through the wind. She has traded her Specialist armour for a long flowing dress. Her feet are hammering the ground in rhythm. The crowd carries her all over the dancefloor; she twirls and claps her hands following the music.
From an ignored fairy bloodline, her parents considered her a Specialist Legacy. When her mind fairies powers woke up, everything went wrong ; she was always an overwhelmed child. No one could help her everytime she lost control. Nothing but medication: earrings to contain, and pills to attenuate. It wasn't bad. She lived like that her entire life.
Silva is sitting on a plastic chair, leaning on the table by his side, his gaze lingering. She is an exceptional fighter; dance must be a piece of cake and fun judging from her large smile. To be fair, he barely remembered her from their time at Alfea. Farah told him she was three years younger than him and seemed to have a few memories.
« (Y/N) travelled a lot to the First World prior to college. Her parents were emissaries and brought back souvenirs. Rumours said that her room resembled a cave of wonders.
-Ever went there ?»
His friend chuckled.
« Once. It was full of trinkets, books, movies, postal cards too. Ben caught interest in it, especially the giant botanic encyclopaedia throning on her bookshelf. We both agreed after a while that she might be the ray of sunshine of her Specialist promotion. But I guess she was discreet, if you've never heard of her.»
It took some memory searching, but he indeed remembered one thing. A conversation between a bunch of 1st years talking about a secret party displaying famous First World movies. A few hours later, on the training field, (Y/N) battled fiercely. It caught the attention of many students, who gathered around the platform. Curiosity taking the best of him, he had followed the crowd.
« What's that First World song that I love to describe you with ?
-By the light Clairo, is it really necessary ? »
Her opponent mocked her. She rolled her eyes, wielding her sword before choosing her fight stance.
« You son of... Maneater from Nelly Furtado. Now let's fight please.
-Alright doll, eat me up. »
(Y/N) huffed in annoyance. Clairo was a good fighter, but a little bit too flirty. He launched himself at her. The young woman stayed incredibly calm. Dodging to the right, she left him to stumble before hitting his back with the wooden weapon. He fell to the ground with a grunt. A shy smile spread on her features.
Now that he thinks about it, her earring had intrigued him : an ear chain hanging from the top of the cartilage of her ear to her lobe. Each end was composed of a lavendish round lilac crystal. When she lost control recently, those crystals lit up with a blinding light and burned her skin.
« I change the earring every five year. Every year If any several big crises occurred.
-What about your burns ? How did they clean them up ? »
Her left hand ghosted over her intact lobe, while Harvey healed the bruised flesh. Her eyes stared at the floor of the greenhouse. Saul was holding her other hand.
« They... I stuffed myself with pills. Sometimes enough to sleep through an entire day. Within the Solarian force, it was the only way for them to treat me. None of their mind fairies could calm me down. I don't think you realize how much this, she lifted her intertwined hand, helps.»
The soldier chuckles at the memory. His eyes examined his fingers, remembering how she locked hers, as she found an anchor in his mind.
« My best guess ? Your training forged your head to have a certain mindset in crisis.
-Loads of Solarian troupers could have given you that.
-Yeah. I can't really explain it, she laughed shyly, maybe because you're a teacher, that two of your long time friends are fairies or just because you're good with people.»
Their gazes crossed. The air thickened. Truth to be told, (Y/N) was so lost upon why he managed to calm her down. Farah tried to guide her, but even then, nothing positive came out. Her youth as a student at Alfea only consisted in shared side glances with him in hallways. She sure as hell found the man attractive, but she had other stuff to think about.
A loud giggle snaps him back to reality. (Y/N) falls on his laps while trying to take off her high heels. Her eyes are opened wide and a little glassy. She's definitely drunk.
« Oh by the light, I'm sorry Silva. Aimed at the table ! »
The atmosphere becomes lighter. He catches her when she nearly trips off by trying to get up, one of his arms snaking around to help. Steadying herself on his laps, she catches her breath slowly, though some giggles erupt as she looks around.
« How can you still dance, uh ?»
With a guilty smile, she leans slightly against the table.
« Alcohol ! It's the only thing keeping me up, baby !»
Instant regret shoots through her veins. Some red creeps up on her cheeks, as her hands cover her mouth. The soldier chuckles, enamoured by her adorableness. One thing that strucked him when they met was her lightness. Out of all the solarian troupers out there, or even all the specialists he ever crossed paths with, she was one of the few who stayed so bright and playful. Subconsciously, his fingers dig slightly in her hips.
« It's alright, (Y/L/N).»
She giggles a bit, but thanks him. Farah watches from a far, joined by Ben. (Y/N)(Y/L/N) has been teaching at Alfea for a year now. The entire school seemed to have transformed into a much more joyous place : students got along better, the shyest opened a tad and the roughest softened. Ben's daughter Terra found a supporter of her personal projects and a confidant. Ben himself benefited from her return. Mostly in books and knowledge but that meant already so much to him. Farah gained a daughter ; (Y/N)'s powers were a mess for her advanced age, helping felt natural. But what she loved the most was how confused Saul got with the new Specialist. Their bond strengthened with time, however the first few days rocked the Headmaster all over the place.
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«(Y/L/N), what did you do to our office ? Did you... Are these books classified by alphabetic order and colour ?! »
His colleague shrugged, trying to see if he was mad or just surprised. It happened a few days after her arrival. Their shared office went under few renovations.
« (Y/L/N), why dancing classes ? »
She shot up, put her hands on his desk and took twenty minutes to explain how it would make their movements more flexible, strengthen teamwork and be a tool for future mission on the job. Astonished could not describe Silva's feeling.
An admirable change that proved beneficial to the students. These two grew very fond of each other. A lot more than they thought. Words in the hallways started to spread about their growing fondness.
« Okay, I got a question for you, soldier boy.»
Saul tilted his head to the side.
« Are you having fun ?
-Of course I am.»
(Y/N) looks disappointed. Turning around, she pours some water in her cup and chugs it down.
« Really ? 'Cause the only thing I've seen you do is sit in a corner all night. »
He lowers his head, searching for the right words. How does he say that he just loves watching her run around the dancefloor ? How she bounds with students but also keeps their respect ? The fact that she's so organised that she could plan a First World themed party and keep her teacher skills to their best ? The shortest way for that would be admitting his feelings. He zones out long enough for her to talk again.
« It's okay. »
His eyes lock with hers. How did she sober up so quickly ?
« I know you have a reputation as a serious and frowny teacher to keep. And this is a graduation party, so. »
Never mind, she did not. The woman gets up, only to kneel under the tablecloth. He panics briefly.
« (Y/N), what on Earth are you doing ?»
She mumbles before appearing back outside. Her hands are holding a package. Another bright smile shines on her face. Silva knows what's coming, and he has mixed feelings about it; between fear, excitement and confusion.
« Happy Birthday Saul. »
His heart nearly stops. Few people know about his birthday, she is now a part of them. He frankly does not mind, even wished for it for a while now. His hands gently take the package to open it. Before his eyes lies a hard covered sketchbook and a wooden box full of high-quality pencils. The cover has a crow flying in a pearly sky with a red sun. The box is made of ebony and his name carved in silver. She knows an another of his secret. He tears up. The woman worries when he starts to sniffle. Much to her surprise, the soldier puts the gifts on the table before hugging her with all his might. Thank God the students are dancing or already out of the hall to smoke. (Y/N) answers his embrace, reassured.
« Thank you so much dear. »
It's her turn to have glossy eyes. She buries her face in his shoulder. This man is constantly under pressure and she has always wondered what he does during his free time : Does he train more ? He probably reads, right ? The answer came on a regular afternoon.
Silva knocked on her quarters' door. He heard shuffling before (Y/N) opened. She was wearing a bathrobe and a towel around her hair.
« Hi Saul ! Sorry hum. I woke up late and did not expect you so soon so, hum. »
The woman looked around, making her towel fall. Picking it up, she invited him in. He indulged, though a bit surprised.
« I'll be back in a jiffy, you know, putting some clothes on and all. Okay.»
She disappeared in her bathroom, leaving him to explore her room. Many watercolour paintings covered the walls, some abstract and others from the Realms of the Otherworld. However, a few landscapes felt unknown to him. On her desk lied sketches with a horde of different pencils. He discovered portraits of Farah, Ben, Terra, Sky, Riven and finally him. The lines were thin, some shadows sharp for the warriors and smoother for the fairies. A hint of jealousy took over him, quickly brushed away by shyness. The fact that she took the time to draw him was flattering. His fingers grazed over the pencils, wondering if he had time to prepare a little surprise. He puts down the file he came to discuss. A few minutes later, (Y/N) came out, dressed but her hair still wet on the edges. Silva was leaning against her desk, file in hand, a small smile on his features. She mirrored it before asking about the important matter at hand. Twenty minutes later, he left. Her eye caught a change in her drawing material : the portrait of Farah and Ben switched positions. She shuffled them, making sure everything was here, only to find an unknown piece. A cute fox was smiling, a little bubble under him stating :
« Nice Work (Y/L/N). Nice pencils too. Wish I had your talent.»
That last sentence made her wonder if he indeed had an artistic side. Needless to say that his quarters gave her answer. Same reason as his when he came, she knocked on his door one night. Though he did not fully invite her in, her eyes caught glimpses of nice sketches lying on a table, some rudimental equipment next to it.
They stay like this for a few seconds. The headmistress and Professor Harvey look at each other. No words, no need. Terra is chatting with a second year in a corner, bur her eyes catch them. She smiles, looking away shyly, but happy Sky sees the scene too, thanks to Riven who taps on his shoulder. They can't help the smile growing on their faces. Sky's father figure finding support is definitely going to be one of the highlights of their first year. (Y/N) and Saul part. One of her hands pats his arm.
« Wanna dance ? »
He closes his eyes, sighing. There is no lack of desire but the fear of what the students will say.
« I wish but... I don't know.
-I get it. But one day, you will ! That's a promise. »
With one last smile, she strolls back to the dancefloor, leaving him sheepish. He takes the sketchbook and a pencil. He might not dance tonight, but he'll make up to it.
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echo-of-sounds · 4 years
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halloween pt.3
Small Halloween drabbles with Aizawa, Toshi, Hizashi, and Fatgum.
Hizashi’s is for a mature audience. I realized how horrible it would be to go shopping with him. He’s definitely the type to get distracted by everything that you have to keep pulling along to get your shopping done.
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Aizawa Shouta - Halloween Fair
“Let’s go down there.” You pointed to the branching street.
Aizawa took a long swig of his beer before chiding, “We’re not going to waste money on any games.”
“Sho, come on. You said you wanted to come with me but you don’t want to try anything.”
“They’re rigged and the prizes aren’t even good.”
You grabbed his hand, stopping him in the middle of the flowing crowd. “If we’re not going to do anything, let’s just go home. We’ve already walked everywhere and petted all the animals, anyway.”
He stared at you. Eyebrows weighed low. Dark eyes reflected twinkling lights. Only he could manage an incredibly grumpy expression surrounded by cute mermaid and fairy costumes and glittering jack-o’-lanterns. 
Heaving a long sigh, he glared at the stuffed animals in the distance. “Two games.”
“Each?”
“In total.”
You smiled wide and led him down the street. A wall of balloons caught your attention. Orange and black balloons laid out a pumpkin design with purple ones enclosing it. A fair amount had been popped. “I’ll play this.”
“It’s the easiest game here.”
“Which is why I’m choosing it,” you whispered so the worker didn’t hear. She handed you three darts. You quickly and rather easily popped three balloons.
“You can choose from those items,” the worker said, motioning to the right side.
The giant bat stuffed animal was the only real choice. Its wings fit around your shoulders and Velcroed together in the front. You wore it like a shawl.
Shouta just glowered at it. You squeezed his hand, smiling and requesting, “Can you try to have some fun? If not for you, for me?”
“I don’t see how any of these games can be fun. Most depend on dumb luck and the very few that require skill don’t offer good prizes. It’s how they take your money.”
“Try this one. There’s skill in it.” You walked to the apple bobbing game. “Looks like a new group is about to go. Join them.”
He kept his groan to himself. A buff man was talking with, or more like to his girlfriend, about using his skillful mouth to win. His gaudy machismo grated almost everyone around him.
“Dumb place to brag about that,” you muttered, noting the kids running by.
Shouta finished his beer, then agreed with a smirk, “Cherry stems are better at proving that anyway.” He tied his hair back and handed over his cellphone and wallet. “Hold these.”
He lined up at the basins right beside the big guy. The worker explained they couldn’t use their hands and the first to catch one in their mouth, won. The contestants crossed their arms behind their backs. A whistle blew and everyone’s head dipped into the water, splashing and soaking themselves.
But Sho waited, calmly watching the apples float and spin. He bowed for one. His nose and chin barely ducked under the surface to swiftly pop back up, holding an apple by the stem. The worker blew his whistle, congratulating him as the winner. A bag filled with colorful objects was thrust into his arms.
Lifting the bottom of his shirt, flashing his abs, Sho dried his face and returned to you. He handed over the prize: a bunch of 3D puzzle cubes and toy puzzle games.
Despite knowing he didn’t like PDA, you gave him a peck on the cheek. And you couldn’t help but smile overhearing the buff man accusing him of cheating. You’d rather deal with a grumbling and grumpy Shouta than someone who’s way too into it like that guy.
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Yagi Toshinori - Haunted Hedge Maze
A blast of air rocketed out. You spun, hiding against Toshi. Despite his laugh, you felt his hand shaking on your back and his heartbeat quickening. “It was only an air cannon, sweetheart.”
You glimpsed out from the safety of his chest. No monster or man stood on the path. You muttered to yourself, “Okay, alright, I’m good.”
“Let’s go. The faster we walk, the faster we get out of this.”
“Yeah.” You stayed flush behind him, holding his hand, letting him lead. Beams shot into the night sky from all over, giving a little light. The dirt walkway was barely visible under the smog.
“Left or right?”
A yelp came somewhere from the right. His shoulders stiffened for a millisecond. You answered, “Definitely left.”
“Definitely.”
Something popped out from the hedge, growling and crackling and dripping liquid. You tucked into his shoulder blade as you walked past the monster. It glared then lurched forward. You pushed on Toshi’s back, “Go, go, go!”
The corner opened to a spacious area- definitely not the end. Little girls danced around in circles, all singing different nursery rhymes. Their white dresses splattered red with blood. When you took a step, they stopped, turned, and started.
“Just walk away,” you whispered.
He nodded, slowly shuffling to a new path. Right as he was about to step over the threshold, a ghost vaulted down from the hedge’s arch. The girls shrieked. You turned, seeing them rushing at you.
Toshi gripped your arm and pulled you to another pathway. A few other demons and doctors jumped out, scaring you each time. Your heart began to beat a little too fast, fearing you were lost.
But Toshi didn’t stop. He kept his hold and hurried forward, eventually rounding a corner that revealed the end. Relief smacked your chest. You could breathe and took the finish line’s safety to kiss him deeply. 
Fingers dug into your forearm, shaking more than before. He asked when you broke the kiss, “Are you alright?”
“Are you?” you said, half breathless, half laughing.
“I’m okay.” He looked at the Haunted Mansion’s front doors. “Do you want to go in there next?”
You scarcely made it through the hedge maze, but if he truly wanted to go through the next part of the haunt, you would. You croaked, “Yeah.”
Blue eyes snapped to you. “Are you sure?”
“Are you?”
A group of teens walked out giggling. They complained about the ‘lack of horror’ and mentioned heading to a nearby restaurant.
Toshi cleared his throat, “I could go for some food.”
“Me too. Let’s go.” You scurried back to the car, more than ready to leave.
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Yamada Hizashi - Costume Shopping
Nothing caught your eye in any of the rows and racks. Hizashi’s laughter came from another aisle. He popped out, holding a racy maid costume, chuckling, “You’d look so sexy in this. Try it on!”
“No.” You grabbed it and hung it back on the rack. “If I’m going as sexy anything, I’m going as sexy Present Mic.”
Arms embraced your waist. Lips kissed and nipped your neck. You sighed his name, trying not to get distracted like he’s been the entire damn day. “I’d rather not get it on in a witch shop.”
“It’s a metaphysical shop,” he corrected. 
“Whatever. We’re just here for costumes. Have you found anything good?”
“No.”
“Well, we’re screwed then. We’ve checked everywhere else.”
“It’ll be fine.”
He continued his kissing while you searched the hanging outfits, hoping just one was good enough to wear, but it was all sexy nun, sexy clown, and sexy Pikachu. It wasn’t too much to ask for a decent costume. Or at least something that’s actually sexy, not a children's video game character.
Hands rubbed down your hips, clearly in want. You sighed, “Go try to find something.”
“Alright,” he sulked away. But he scurried back thirty seconds later, smiling as wide as he could, holding a green cylinder with spirals. “What about this?”
“What the hell is it?”
He read the sticker, “A six-inch, Reiki infused, jade dildo that increases love-”
“Hizashi.”
“- and nurturing, and stimulates and aids in emotional-”
“Hizashi.”
“- release. It also boosts fertility and balances bodily fluids.” His eyebrows bobbed up and down as he smirked at you.
“Hizashi, did you find a costume?”
“Oh no, I got distracted in the sex toy section.”
“You were gone for a few seconds. Costume shopping shouldn’t be this hard,” you grumbled, walking the rest of the aisle.
He followed, hugging you again, kissing your shoulder. “Don’t stress about it, baby. We’ll find something.”
“The party’s tonight and unless you’re going as a sex enthusiast, we don’t have anything to wear.”
His head snapped up. And you realized you shouldn’t have given him the idea because he ran back to the sexy maid dress. “I’m totally going as a sex enthusiast.”
You laughed, “You think you can fit your shoulders in that dress?”
“I’ll make it work. I’ll educate people on sex safety and give out free orgasms.”
“You’ll give me free orgasms. No one else gets you.” You kissed him.
“Oh, here!” He picked up something from the floor. It was a gray headband with mouse ears. “You can wear your gray dress and those fishnet stockings with the lace,” he hummed, pulling your waist against him. “And that cute, little pink bow you wear for me whenever I ask because you’re such a good-”
“Are you guys gonna, like, buy somethin’ or just keep makin’ out?” The worker blew a giant bubble with her gum.
“Sorry.” You took the items from Hizashi. “We’ll take these.”
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Taishiro Toyomitsu - Making Candies and Cookies
Tai meticulously spaced out the globs into four rows, measuring their size and roundness till they were perfect. When it was filled, he took out another baking sheet.
“What do you need that for?”
“Oh, there’s more.” He tilted the bowl down. A huge amount of cookie dough still remained. “I quadrupled the recipe. Gonna make seventy-two!”
“Tai, we don’t need seventy-two cookies.”
“I do.”
“We already have two pies, fudge, brittle, and a truckload of whoopie pies. I think we have enough,” you laughed.
“Nah. I found a good recipe for peanut butter bark. Looks good.” He pulled a recipe from the top of the microwave, handing it to you as he finished pouring the cookie dough. “Get the stuff out, babe. We’re making that next.”
Pans and crumbs scattered over the counter. Foil and containers were running low. Silverware lumped in the sink. All the snacks and desserts were arranged on the table. As much as you enjoyed sweets, you weren’t confident in yourself to finish all of them.
“We’re going to be sick come Monday.”
“We’ll deal with it then.” He kissed your forehead on his way to the sink. 
You gathered the ingredients. The chocolate chips melted quickly. As you poured it, Tai kept trying to smudge some on your arms or nab the candies before you could use them. You fended him off each time and sprinkled peanut butter cups, toffee, and candy over the melted chocolate.
The white chocolate was next. Right when you were about to drizzle it, a finger sunk into it, gathered a globule, and moved to smear it on your cheek. You grabbed his arm, laughing, “Tai, don’t.”
“You just need a little right there.”
He poked your nose. Between your giggling and his strength, you struggled to hold his arm away. 
“Trust me, baby. I know what’s best for you. It’ll look pretty.”
“No-” Fingers tickled your side. You tried dodging it, but he followed, ultimately plastering your face with the chocolate. His mouth landed next, smooching and licking it up through your laughing.
You scooped some onto two fingers and smeared it over his forehead. It clung to his hair which rubbed off on yours as he continued tickling your sides. He wasn’t going to release you until you were nearly peeing your pants.
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Missy’s Lesson Plan
Lesson #1 Listen to Her Worries
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pairing: marcus moreno x f!teacher!reader characters: f!reader, marcus word count: 3.6k+ warnings: fluff, awkwardness, bonding, summary: dating is hard; dating after losing a significant other is even harder, but Missy is sure she has a foolproof plan that will help her dad and her teacher finally confess their feelings and get the happily ever after that they deserve! a/n: sorry for the wait! since so many people liked it i wanted to make sure everything about this chapter was decent to post, so ya’ll have @forevans​ to thank or else this would’ve been stuck in limbo for a long time lol--also, im about to dub reader and marcus the thank-you-couple lmfao--you’ll see why
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There are three things you are absolutely sure about in your life.
1. Your name. 2. You love your family. And 3. Missy Moreno is your favorite student.
“Turns out she was just testing us!” She moves around your classroom, picking up scraps of paper and throwing them into the black, durable trash bag she’s hauling around with her, recounting her heroic tale of saving her dad and the other Heroics with her new super powered friends. “A transfer of power or something. Can you believe it?”
Yes and no.
Your heart had literally jumped out of your throat and blood turned cold when Missy was plucked from school during recess—“taken somewhere safer,” the principal had informed you after you stormed into her office wanting to know where your student was and why you weren’t informed.
School was released an hour after that, a way to prepare citizens for the inevitable destruction the Heroics tend to cause in the heavily, populated metropolitan areas, and after making sure every single one of your students had been picked up by a family member, you hurriedly headed home.
You had sat yourself down in front of the television with your mom, worried for Mr. Moreno and the rest of the Heroics (more so for Missy’s dad), feeling completely and utterly helpless.
It only got worse when agents suited in black and white showed up at your doorstep, demanding to know where Missy Moreno and the other super powered children were hiding.
“You lost them?” You had balked—your worry rising to new heights—first Mr. Moreno and now Missy? You didn’t know what to do other than demand how a bunch of agents could have lost a group of untrained children during an alien invasion!
None of them answered you, remaining stoic, and if it weren’t for your mom, you would’ve pounced and clawed the closest agent out of desperation.
The agents only left after turning your house upside down in their search for the children.
And then, after hours of waiting, the news showed the Heroics, Anita Moreno, and the children landing in front of the White House, safe and sound. You almost cried from relief in your mother’s arms.
So, no, you can’t believe it; but seeing her here, this special girl, that has somehow worked her way into your heart from the moment she walked into your life, safe and sound in your classroom, you do believe it.
But you can’t tell Missy all of that when she’s practically bouncing on the heels of her feet, beaming up at you every few seconds to watch your reactions to her story. Instead, you widen your eyes for good measure and your mouth hangs open. It’s a little exaggerated, but you really are impressed with Missy—very much worried, but impressed. “Woah! I’m so proud of you!”
Her grin is so bright and proud, it makes you chuckle under your breath, your shoulders finally relaxing at the rare, childlike mirth dancing in her eyes.
“Are you going to write about it for your report?”
She shrugs. “Maybe.”
Now that stops you from sorting through the craft supplies, eyebrow raising in surprise. “Maybe?”
“It’s stupid,” she murmurs, focusing a little too much on one area.
“Missy,” you start, patient, “why do you think it’s stupid?”
“It’s just—” she shuffles on her feet and then sighs heavily, looking up at you with dark eyes full of doubt—“what if no one believes me?”
It takes you no time to close the distance between you. You coax the bag out of her hands and set it down on the floor, motioning for her to sit at the desk she had just been pretending to clean. “Why do you think no one would believe you?”
“Because I don’t have super powers.” Her nose wrinkles, looking away from you and to the whiteboard.
“Missy…”
“I know, I know!” she exasperates, having heard this spiel from you many times before. “It doesn’t matter, it’s never mattered, I get it!” You stare at her incredulously, and she is quick to assure you, leaning forward on the edge of the chair. “I do, really! But I—it would be useful, you know?” She slumps back, finger rubbing at a spot on the table. “Proof, I guess.”
“Powers could always be useful,” you agree with a soft laugh. “But not always necessary.” She still doesn’t look at you, and you sigh softly, a small amused smile forming on your lips. “I know you know some of the most amazing, most brave people are the ones without powers.”
She looks up at you, head tilting and waiting for you to elaborate.
“You once told me that aside from your dad, your mom was your absolute favorite hero, remember that?”
She nods, a smile finally appearing on her cherubic face.
“Don’t underestimate yourself, Missy.” You crouch down to her level. “You not having powers doesn’t mean the rest of the class won’t believe you. They know you’re a leader, they look to you not just because you’re Marcus Moreno’s kid but because they believe in you.”
“I knew it was stupid,” she murmurs bashfully, tanned skin brightening as she huffs and folds her arms over her chest.
“Hey, no, none of that. Having doubts or being scared or even jealous is never stupid. It’s perfectly human,” you assure her, her brown eyes searching yours. “In fact, I sometimes feel that way too!”
“Really?” She drops her arms and her pout softens. “You?”
“Of course! Just because I’m an adult doesn’t mean I don’t sometimes doubt myself or feel a little insecure.”
“Like what?” she asks, dark eyes curious and wide.
“Oof, a lot!” Your eyes roll to the ceiling as you think. “I think… one of my biggest doubts and fears is not being a good enough teacher.”
“What?” She gasps, jumping in her seat and eyes narrowing with scary determination to get you to believe that: “You’re an amazing teacher!”
Warmth fills your chest at the sincerity in her voice and eyes. “See!” You cross your arms over your knees, but Missy takes your hand in hers, and you let her, squeezing her smaller hand in yours. “Sometimes, we don’t see ourselves in the same light as others do, and that’s okay. We just need a little reminder every once in a while.”
“Yeah,” she drawls, playing with one of your fingers, “I guess you’re right.”
“I know I’m right.” You nudge her nose gently with a hooked finger and she wrinkles her nose in response. “And this is my reminder for you today: I truly believe you’re capable of doing extraordinary things, Missy. Powers or no powers.”
She grins, nudging your nose just as you had. “And I truly believe you’re the most amazing teacher ever.”
Yeah. Missy Moreno is definitely your favorite student.
“I know.” You ruffle her hair and she grabs your wrist to push you away, laughing.
A loud thud by the entrance of the class brings you to your feet, spinning in place and firmly placing yourself in front of Missy and the sudden intruder—only to find a sheepish Marcus Moreno mid trip and hand raised sheepishly.
“I—ah—sorry, I was going to knock, but the door was opened—” he says, quickly crouching down to pick up the empty rack you set up for the kids to place their backpacks and lunch on. “Sorry.”
Missy lets out an exasperated, “Dad!” while your form relaxes (replaced by a new tension squeezing your chest).
Clearing his throat, he straightens up, raising a hand in greeting and an apology. “Sorry,” he murmurs again.
“It’s fine, Mr. Moreno.” You offer him a warm smile, ignoring the little butterflies in your tummy. Turning to Missy, you catch a very much exasperated eye roll that only makes you stifle your laughter behind your hand. “Come on, Missy, get your things.”
She eyes her dad for a moment longer before nodding and hurrying to her table shared with Karina at the front of the classroom, a table away from your desk.
“Thanks for letting Missy stay.” He scratches the back of his head, his other hand resting on his hip as he shifts his weight. “Paperwork took me longer than I would have liked.”
“A hero’s work is never done, huh?” you joke, keeping your voice light.
He cracks a charming smile, the one that always seems to melt your insides into a pile of goo. “Unfortunately.”
Your eyes move to Missy, who is slowly putting her things away, organizing them and reorganizing. Her head tilts slightly when the conversation between you and Marcus pauses, dark eyes trying to inconspicuously look over her shoulder to get a glimpse of you and her father. Her eyes catch yours and widen in surprise before she snaps her head forward, pretending to be busy but not hurrying her movements, either—much to your amusement. What is she doing?
Shaking your head and returning your gaze to Marcus, you’re met by brown eyes full of exasperated fondness, an apologetic smile on his handsome features.
“I heard about what happened,” he suddenly says. “About some of our agents raiding your home.”
“Oh!” You blink owlishly, embarrassment crawling under your skin—what else did he know? “You heard about that?”
“Read about it in the report, actually.” He tilts his head, scratching the stubble on his cheek, and you press your lips together to keep from questioning what else he read in case they didn’t add the part about you losing your cool. “I have agents on their way to help clean up any mess they might’ve made and to replace anything they might’ve broken.”
This man is truly a god sent, isn’t he? “Mr. Moreno, I appreciate it, thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to,” he assures you, firm and kind. “It’s our fault you got caught in the cross hairs.” His eyes fall away from yours, and again, he shifts his weight on his feet as he pushes his glasses back up over the bridge of his nose.
You wait for a moment, but when he doesn’t look back up at you, you let out a little defeated sigh, disappointed that the conversation is over. Not that you want to keep talking about agents ruining your home, but you like listening to Mr. Moreno speak. He has the softest, most reassuring voice that makes you feel safe in his presence; like he trusts you.
“Well, again, thank you,” you start as you make your way over to the plastic bin full of craft supplies on your desk and are about to take them to the closet you store them in when warm fingers brush against yours, taking the box from your hands. “Oh!”
“Let me help you with that,” he says, soft and rich, warm eyes full of kindness staring into yours.
“Thank you,” you murmur—and he’s close, not like when he was sitting across from you as you introduced yourself to him and showed him the first progress report of the year, but close enough that you can see the glints of black and umber in his eyes, tips of his shoes barely touching yours, and a small box keeping your chests from brushing against each other.
“It’s no trouble. Least I could do.” He flashes another smile, and again, your heart melts and you have to physically keep yourself from biting your lips by swiping your twitching fingers over your mouth, eyes darting away from him.
Clearing your throat, you say, “Let me show you where I need them.”
He nods and follows after you, keeping a fair distance even after you point at the empty space the bin was in earlier that day.
“Thank you,” you say—again! all you do is thank the man!—as he puts away the bin and closes the closet doors for you.
“Of course.”
“Okay, I’m finally ready!” Missy announces, a little too loud for it to not to be intentional.
“We should start heading out, then.” His hand settles on Missy’s head, steering her towards the door. “Again, thank you for letting Missy stay—really saved me.”
“It was no trouble at all.” You wave him away, following after them to walk them out.
“That was painful to watch,” you swear you hear her whisper to her dad, and he shushes her.
Did you imagine it?
“Ah, actually, Mr. Moreno, may I speak to you for a moment?”
“Of course!” He pats Missy’s shoulder. “Go on ahead, I’ll meet you down the hall.”
She narrows her eyes at him, as if trying to communicate something to him before nodding and walking off. “See you Monday, teach!”
“Bye, Missy! Have a good weekend!” You wait until she’s completely out of ear shot, or at least on the other side of the hall to address your worries to Mr. Moreno. “Missy told me about what happened on that spaceship and I—I’m worried. I know what Missy is capable of, trust me, I know. She’s—extraordinary. A good kid.” You bite your lip, wrapping your cardigan tighter around your frame, the cold wind brushing against your exposed skin. “But I—I can’t help but worry either way. I know it’s not my place—”
“No, no!” He steps forward and a little to the side, blocking the wind from hitting you. “Thank you for caring so much about Missy. I—I always feel grateful knowing you care about her and that she’s in capable hands at school.”
You release a breath you didn’t know you had been holding, a huge weight off your shoulder now that you know you’re not stepping on his toes.
“I’m worried too, if I’m being honest.” His eyes slide to Missy waiting for him at the end of the hall where she’s rocking on her feet, and you follow his gaze, both of you smiling when she glances up and waves. “She’s headstrong. Once her mind is made up, you can’t stop her.” He chuckles, the sound low and a little self-deprecating.
“I would never ask you to change her mind,” you affirm gently. “All I ask, is that you look after her—not that you don’t already do, because I know you do, but it’s… different out there.”
He nods resolutely. “I promise.”
“You need to stay safe out there, too, Mr. Moreno. I can’t keep having two heart attacks in one day,” you tease, leaning against the metal doorframe.
“I promise you, we’ll stay safe,” he says it so seriously, eyes locked on yours that it practically steals your breath away. “Missy and I—we’ll protect each other.”
“Like you always do,” you hum into the space between you.
“Like we always do,” he reaffirms, just as soft.
“Good.” You stare at one another for a beat longer than necessary, but you look away first, straightening up. “Have a good evening, Mr. Moreno. Drive safe.”
“You too.”
You watch him walk away, waving each time he looks back until he reaches Missy. They wrap an arm around each other and with one final wave, they disappear into the stairwell.
Smiling, you head back inside to get your things.
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“So,” Missy starts as they climb down the stairs, “did you ask?”
“No.” He sighs, bracing himself for the ten year old judgement (he can’t wait to see what her pre-teen and teenage judgement looks like, probably even more brutal).
“What?” She pulls away from him as they reach the final step. “No? What do you mean ‘no’? That was the perfect timing!”
He knows it was perfect timing! There were many perfect moments that he could’ve asked if you were doing anything this Saturday, but no! He just had to get distracted by the curves of your lashes and the way your eyes glinted under the setting sun and how your nose wrinkled when the cold air kissed your nose and—“Next time.”
“A deal is a deal, dad!” She reminds him, staring up at him with those eyes that used to remind him so much of her mother, but now they’re becoming less and less like hers and more her own. “You said you would!”
“I know, I know,” he whines in mock defeat. “I just… what if she doesn’t like me?” It’s a legitimate worry, one that has only grown since Missy started encouraging him to ask you out.
“Seriously, dad?” Her hand connects with her forehead. “It’s so obvious! And besides, how will you ever know if you don’t ask?”
“I guess you’re right. Any ideas?”
She cups her chin, thinking. Her eyes brighten. “I do have a plan!”
“And what exactly is this plan?” he asks, a little wary of what his precocious ten year old could possibly come up with.
“Just trust me!” She grins up at him and wraps her arm around his waist, tugging him along with her towards the car. “With my plan we’ll win her over completely!”
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Leverage Season 2, Episode 10, The Runway Job, Audio Commentary Transcript
[Silence]
John: Marc?
Marc: Hi, I'm Marc Roskin, Producer and Director of this episode.
John: I'm John Rogers, Executive Producer, and the one with the Guinness, so you have no excuse for missing that cue.
Albert: And I'm Albert Kim, I'm the writer of the Runway Job.
John: Here we go. And this is a great opening sequence, what- is this a set Marc Roskin? How did you create this incredible look?
Marc: This is the largest girls school uniform factory on the west coast, and they-
John: So this is some sort of internet connection where you order school uniforms or-?
Marc: It was very hot. No, this was-
Albert: Strangely Marc knows a lot about girls’ school uniforms. I don’t know why, but-
Marc: Yes, this was an actual working factory. A lot of the background workers are some of the factory employees who knew how to operate the machines. It was right across the river, really close, and they opened their doors to us just like everybody did in Portland.
John: I love the fact that we wanted to do a fake sweatshop, so when we shot in there, when they saw the hours they shot the workers in the fake sweatshop, we're like, ‘These hours are horrible. How can you people work under these conditions?’ And Albert, since we’ve just seen someone collapse with these- this great shop, which, actually, I believe was the pitch. How did you come up with the idea for the episode?
Albert: Well as you know, I'm quite the fashion icon in the office, so it was quite natural for me.
[Laughter]
John: Yes.
Albert: No, I knew that I wanted to set an episode in the fashion world because it seemed like a fun environment to get into, and lots of great visuals and scenes with models and fashion designers and runway shows. So I knew the area was there, and then so the trick was coming up with a sympathetic victim, and then, as always, a credible villain and threat. So I did a little research and finding the victim wasn't too tough, because the real- in the real world, the fashion industry has sort of been dogged by allegations of sweatshop abuse for a while, so having the sweatshop victim came fairly easy. Finding the threat required a little more research, but as I dug into it, I found that it was actually a real world connection between sweatshops and global clothing counterfeiting, which is controlled by the Chinese Triads.
John: It's interesting because a lot of people talk about intellectual rights and stuff in new international treaties and people immediately think of movies, television, digital rights. A lot of it also involved intellectual rights on clothing.
Albert: Yes. Clothing counterfeiting actually counts for more of the income of these Triads than illegal narcotics trade. So it’s a huge billion dollar business for them and right then, sort of, the pieces fell into place for the elements of the episode.
John: And now these actresses are, Marc?
Marc: That is- um-
Albert: Jen.
Marc: Cathy Vu.
Albert: Cathy Vu and Jen Hong.
Marc: On our left and Jen Hong, and they were great though local Portland actresses. And they knew how to speak some Mandariarin and it worked out great. This was actually, in the shooting order, Jeri Ryan's first episode working with us.
John: Yeah, it's really interesting because, you know, the crew- the cast was genuinely kind of freaked out by Gina not being on set, and so a lot of the weird vibe you get on this episode is from ‘there's a new person’ and of course Jeri became great friends with everyone and really fit in, but it was a really interesting vibe the first couple days on set. It really felt like, yes, Jeri’s a new person here; we don't quite know how to handle it.
Marc: But we had to play it like she was already part of the team because we shot these out of order.
John: It does help that really you don't make her part of the team until the end of the previous episode. 
Marc: Right.
John: This is almost a cold relaunch.
Albert: And we played that in the episode, too, so you sort of everyone's tentativeness around her worked well for the dynamics within- the character dynamics within the story as well.
John: And this is, again, this wass also a scene we added just to- It was interesting, we really wanted to make sure that everyone understood that Sophie- Because originally there was going to be a giant gap between episodes, we wanted to make sure everyone understood Sophie signs off on this. You know, audiences were very attached to Gina Bellman - rightfully so - and we did not want them to think we were shuffling her off and bringing in a new actor. We listen to you. Not a lot, not really.
[Laughter]
John: But we do listen to the bigger screams. Also love the callback there that Hardison screwed up in the Ice Man and that's what motivated this entire- this entire replacement.
Marc: We always like to bring up Hardison's screw ups; blowing up offices and whatnot.
John: Blowing up offices. But it's interesting that this is one of those trios where you just kind of park the camera and, you know, they have the dialogue, just let them run; let them do 4 or 5 versions, get the hell out of their way.
Albert: And this scene is really our version of: the kids are wondering where mommy went. You know, so it's like they are a little uncomfortable, it's a new family dynamic, so they're on the phone with her.
John: Yeah.
Marc: Right. But of course, they don't want dad to know that they are speaking to mom.
Albert: Yeah.
John: Yeah, and that's a- that actually started in Ice Man, where they are calling and not telling Nate. And we continued it all the way through where they just don't feel comfortable letting Nate know. And that was a nice little moment with Beth, you know, just ‘I miss you’. It's not often we crack the shell on Parker, that's part of the advancement of the character, to show that she's comfortable in the family, even if she’s not comfortable with other humans. And these two actors the- not those actors, that's stock photography- but the two actors playing the bad guys are?
Marc: Grace and what's her last name?
Albert: Grace Hsu and Tom Choi.
Marc: Grace was a Portland local, she was fabulous; and Tom came from Los Angeles. They did a really great job. 
John: The con here is kind of convoluted. It's interesting, just watching this, is the idea that we really had to come into the fashion show from- the fashion industry is one of those industries where if you're inside it, you know everything. We had to constantly figure out, what does the audience need to know in order to understand what we're doing without overexplaining it?
Albert: Right. Again, this is a case where research helped. I mean, to actually looking into what happens during fashions shows. It's based on a real life event, Fashion Week, which normally takes place in New York though there are regional ones all around the country where there are big showcases for new designers as well as opportunities for the stylish designers to bring out their new lines and things like that. So we knew we had an event that was tied to a specific time which helped; it gave us a very limited time frame. And then, again, researching into how the Triads operate and what their connection is to the clothing industry. All of that just helped flesh out the con.
John: I love the Parker giving her instructions on how to be photographed, you know Sophie gave her instructions three weeks ago for some other con. And this was kind of fun, creating the idea for how do you create- in modern media, how do you create the illusion of an actual human existing for some period of time, object permanence to a great degree?
Albert: Right.
John: So you figured out how to- you know, my wife watches a lot of fashion TV and it was kind of backing up: how do I actually know who the hell any of these people are? And it was because of the fashion shows and magazines. Cover both of those and you're done. And DVRs have certainly been a boon. And also this, printing off one magazine it's actually easier than we made it look. 
Albert: Yeah.
Marc: Oh yeah.
John: There's actually a service that prints off short runs of magazines that you can use if you're say doing a trade show or running a con.
Albert: This was all done on location. Beautiful house. This beautiful house in- was it in Clackamas?
Marc: Yeah, just outside of Clackamas.
Albert: It was great. It was a huge mansion that worked perfectly, and we ended up recreating the mansion later when we blow it up.
John: Also that what they're doing there, where they are looping, that's exactly what it looks like at Electric Entertainment - it’s basically just a laptop and a mic in the kitchen and that's how we finish up these episodes. No, but it was fun to be able to say, ‘Oh well, put the words on her mouth when we’re on her back, just like we do with actors.’ 
Marc: Right.
John: Presently, Tim Hutton delivers no more than 50% of the dialogue you hear per episode. We put the rest in his mouth later with a cunning Tim Hutton imitator. Yeah, this is to close off the sale that she's locked in.
Marc: Yeah, just to continue the sale.
John: Now Marc, you directed a bunch of episodes by this point, coming into this, right?
Marc: Yes.
John: And what was it like having a new human on the staff?
Marc: It was interesting. We- it brought a new life to it, and was interesting to see how everybody worked together. And she was just trying to get a feel for everybody and, you know, she was really easy going and said, ‘Listen, if you want a different performance, please, I'm here to help you guys.’
John: ‘Who likes to do this style? Who likes to do that style? Is that head writer really drinking that much in the middle of the day?’ Basic questions.
Marc: What is that smell coming from his trailer?
John: It's shame. It's the smell of shame. This scene was actually not in the original shoot, right? We wound up- this is one of the scenes that was: how much do we explain to the audience? Do they explain what Fashion Week is or isn't? And when we kinda looked at the first cut, it was like, you know what? I know because I watch it on Saturday morning on fashion TV, but we gotta make sure we establish the rules.
Albert: Right. Just a little more explanation as to how the fashion world works and where the con is going; just another step in the process.
John: And an excuse to get Aldis in orange.
Marc: Exactly and have Aldis in orange and Eliot in mascara.
John: That's eye makeup, that's not mascara.
Marc: Sorry.
John: Don’t. Please. Please, I don't want that phone call again, don't make that mistake.
[Laughter]
Albert: What's great about that factory, even this part of this set was also in that factory. 
Marc: This was just another portion of it.
John: Wait, so all the dresses and stuff, did we bring those in or those were-?
Marc: Yeah, we just put up the bolts of fabric and some employees.
Albert: We spent a lot of time in that sweatshop.
John: Yeah. As one does.
Marc: As one does. 
John: I love, by the way, in this episode, just watching what Kane is doing behind her during this scene. I'm- he's making a lot of interesting choices for Eliot there. Especially with the card snap coming up. And this was a lot of fun, too; this was a lot of the fun of the show is learning all the rules and idiosyncrasies of each industry.
Albert: Sure, that's part of the formula is figuring out what's the interesting world you can look into and then diving into and explaining to the audience how these worlds work.
Marc: Well it's funny, cause she needs to explain it to her teammates on the show.
John: And the card! I love the card delivery.
Marc: And the card the bam, yeah, you get to explain it to the teammates and explain it to the audience as well.
John: We’re really replicating what we’re doing in the room. Which is, one person knows the field pretty well and they explain- I remember when we did Iceman and we were talking about getting the serial numbers off the diamonds and Chris Downey was like, ‘I'm not following’ and I went, ‘It's like getting VIN numbers off a car’. ‘Oh, ok perfect!’ And that wound up in the script. Also this was fun having somebody who didn't know how the earbuds worked; it kinda reset the rules for the audience. And some beautiful- how did we get all this beautiful Boston stock footage?
Marc: Some we bought, some we shot. 
John: You actually went out and shot a lot.
Marc: I did. Myself and Dave Connell spent a couple days running around the great city of Boston.
John: Now this is your directing debut, isn’t it Albert?
Albert: It wasn’t my debut, but it was probably the longest sequence I've done.
John: And it's just naked backs.
Albert: It was just tedious, grueling labor to just have to order these models around to take off their clothes and take off their shoes. No, it was great, it was. We already had the set, we finished the big scenes in the set, so Marc let me take a few people out and just get as much fun behind the scenes stuff you can, so that’s kind of where we ended up.
Marc: You and Norbert, right?
Albert: Yeah, Norbert. That was one of his first days there.
John: I love the hair. Whose idea was the Swiss Miss hair?
Albert: Well the other thing about this episode was hair, makeup, wardrobe, obviously had a field day with it. They were really excited about being able to put their best foot forward on a lot of this stuff, so they were able to-
Marc: Yeah, they really had a good time.
John: I also love the fact that Hardison is basically using CIA technique of human intel signals  and analysis on the PA’s on a fashion show to figure out who’s in charge without actually figuring it out. It's a lot of fun, and our friend Apollo Robbins helped us out with the envelope slip, and it helps that Beth is very good-
Marc: This girl is great; she was a lot of fun, this girl, Caitlyn, Caitlyn Larimore. We- she read for us a few times on other things; we just knew there was gonna be something for her eventually.
John: So really, if you're looking to act, you should get out of whatever little LA or New York, whatever little hick town you're in and move to Portland because that's where you're gonna get some work.
Marc: Move to Portland; that's where it's gonna happen.
John: This actually hacking into the printer is something we've done before. A favorite trick of Apollo is to print stuff out in your office when you don't realize something is about to happen. And then the slide- 
Marc: That wonderful calligraphy on those envelopes was my mother in-law’s.
John: Really? That's great.
Marc: Yes, Louise.
John: We didn’t pay her did we?
Marc: Oh god no.
John: Alright, just making sure. We are a cable show.
Albert: But she ends up featured as a featured extra in the episode, too. She's in the fashion show; you'll see her later staring down Parker.
John: Mother-in-law? You got your mother-in-law on tv?
Marc: That's right.
John: Wow, you're the best son-in-law ever. This actress- actually nice shot. We wound up repeating that character later. I remember we were kinda restructuring; we were like, ‘Oh, we can just use her again, that’s fine.’
Albert: I remember watching her read, and she was great at it, so we decided to, rather than use a separate character for a scene later on, just, you know, bring her back. And she wound up doing that scene later when they approach the security people.
John: Just some love for the extra, ‘Hey, how are you doing?’ A little something from Eliot just for you.
Marc: Just a little.
Albert: Well he had to know that if you're gonna do a fashion episode, one with lots of models, that Eliot was gonna be right in the thick of things there.
John: Yeah. And the overheard- How did you stage this? The overheard conversation is a staple of the show and the bane of all directors everywhere.
Marc: Yeah, we didn't have a lot of time on this day, but we figured out a way; just keep her in the background, eventually a couple close ups of her ears perk, and soon they'll drag her in deeper. 
John: Now each one of them is doing a specific person. I can't remember, he's doing-
Marc: Lagerfeld.
John: He's doing Lagerfeld. She’s doing Donatella Versace. I can't remember the British guy that Hardison is locked in on, cause I remember Aldis actually had pictures of him. I’m trying to remember...
Albert: André Leon Talley from Vogue, who is the legendary creative director of Vogue. And he's sort of channeling him. But yeah, again, during the course of research-
Marc: I got my ladder shot in there, by the way. I'm just two for two on-
John: On having ladders in your-
Marc: Yeah.
John: That's good; that's excellent.
Albert: This whole set was built; this was the whole fashion show.
John: We actually built this in the museum that we shot the finale for 207 in, right?
Marc: No, this was just an empty warehouse. 
John: Did we have permission?
Marc: Yes we did.
John: Good. Cause sometimes we don't; sometimes we just build stuff and then get the hell out before the cops show.
Marc: Yes, we used a lot of fabric to hide things.
Albert: But the beauty of it is, if you go to real fashion shows, it's kind of what it is. The highlight of fashions shows are supposed to be the clothes, so they keep the surroundings very minimal, and that's- that's always the idea of a fashion show. So luckily for us, it's fairly easy to recreate realistically as a set.
Marc: A lot of times it's just a wedding tent and a runway and chairs.
Albert: Well anyone who's watched Project Runway can see what it's like. It’s just a runway and some folding chairs.
John: I thought we built- that's interesting. Where did we go back to the museum for? I can't remember; it's gonna drive me crazy. Whose idea was the buckles?
Albert: Buckles was something I came up with in the script when I was trying to figure out how to explain what a poor designer Gloria is.
John: What's the one thing nobody likes a lot of?
Marc: Buckles.
Albert: So it became a little joke that someone that- someone, I think it was Chris actually pitched the joke about ‘pilgrim chic’ which we put in there, and found out later that that's actually kind of a real thing. If you make up any kind of joke in the fashion world you'll find out eventually that it's a real thing somewhere.
John: Yes.
Marc: This was actually the workers rec room, which was pretty much an open area room and- 
John: You're kind of ruining the whole sweatshop vibe with, like, ‘They had a rec room.’
Marc: Yeah, they had a rec room and basically we've pretty much four walled it. 
John: Yup.
Marc: And, you know, put in-
John: Which means?
Marc: To put up a wall to close it off. 
John: So this is a bigger space behind him.
Marc: Yeah, it's actually pretty much the same size, but it's just a platform where they had their lunch table set up. But we liked the ability to have shots like that where we can look down onto the floor, it was always-
John: And then shoot back up.
Marc: It was always something that I know that you guys mention, that we wanna have more connection with our victims. So we placed that shot-
John: It is tricky, particularly when we’re doing complicated ones, you can lose track of that vic that's in the opening, and we really tried this year to tie it back a little bit more.
Albert: Yeah, it was interesting. I had a conversation with another writer just the other day about - who works on a crime procedural - and they have the same issue about how to connect with their victims. It's much harder for them because usually their victims are dead. So they show up in the beginning dead, and they can wrap things up with the relative of the victim at the end. If you notice, what a lot of crime shows do is they have flashbacks, so then you get to learn the personality of the victims through the flashbacks.
John: Oh, interesting.
Albert: So we don't do that, but our victims are alive so there are opportunities, like in this scene, to reconnect with the people who we’re working for and establish what our emotional stakes are.
John: And this is also one of the places where we sort of set up- and if you watch what we did with Jeri’s character, and sort of the difference between Sophie and Tara Cole. Tara Cole is a short grifter. Sophie is never gonna push it, she's never gonna try to get the big payout. And Tara’s job is to get in and get out with as much money as possible, so this is one of the times where we really sort of set up how she needs to adjust. Though when you look at the back half, we don't really change it that much. The team doesn't really change, it's- she kind of adjusts herself to fit in the team a bit more. They wind up using her short term push just as a different sort of batter.
Albert: Whereas personality-wise, there's something you told me I remember which helped make everything click which was - Tara is really kind of a guy’s girl. You know, she's the kind of girl who sits around and watches football with the guys on Sundays. Sophie is very much a girl's girl; she's out there doing the shopping and fashion and all that stuff. So that kind of distinguishes the two characters. Although they fulfill the same role within the team, they're very distinctive in terms of their personality. 
John: But that's also from when we originally created the show. A lot of these characters have slightly different personalities, and the actors brought other personalities, and we realized as long as that job was fulfilled in the team, you can range pretty widely within there. How did you shoot- where the hell is she?
Albert: She's supposed to be-
Marc: Tashkent, right?
Albert: Tashkent. So- 
John: Uzbekistan?
Albert: Yes.
John: Oh right there you go. Of course. ‘Cause Tashkent is in Uzbekistan. Who doesn't know that?
Albert: Right.
Marc: And yes, so we shot Gina on a much later date, during a later episode, and just one green screen and some stock footage behind a little wind machine and there you are.
Albert: And camels.
Marc: And some camels, yes.
John: As one has in Tashkent. 
Marc: In Portland.
John: Oh no, we went to the Portland zoo see, I was hoping you'd give them the whole speech about sand, and yeah. That's a little bit of jealousy, a little bit of- and that was another thing, too, to make sure that Sophie wasn't just a character that you checked in with once a week. She had to have her own little arc that whenever you went to her she had a distinct attitude about the team. Yes and the reindeer gag, which I really foolishly insisted on keeping in the script because it was my favorite bit.
Albert: It was brilliant; it was great; it was all John.
John: That's mine. Whenever you see a joke that doesn't quite work and seems kind of doomed but we keep, that's usually me diggin in at the table, particularly if it's absurdist. Now did we put banners up or is that digital?
Marc: Digital. Those were digital banners on the building. Do our little whip pans to Eliot and whip back. 
John: Just to establish, yes, he's with a model. Where do you think he was gonna be? And he’s out.
Marc: And he's angry he has to leave the model.
John: The- and again, it was interesting to, sort of, know that we had to plot out these arcs on the back six, and figuring out exactly, like, how do we show trust and acceptance? And, you know, you can do it in dialogue, but you don't want people talking about their intentions. And the ear bud became kind of an interesting metaphor; it goes in and out of use over the back six and even with Eliot we wound up using it.
Marc: Yeah, it's like the chief asking for your gun and badge.
John: Yeah, exactly. And it also solved the problem later when you know it’s- she shouldn't have heard X. 
Albert: Right.
John: And that's a big problem on the show is in theory, if they can all hear each other’s conversations... Whereas a lot of cop shows, a big chunk of the time is, ‘What did you find out from witness x, Billy?’ What did you find out about witness y? Alright now let's put it together.’ They know. Now how did we do this blow?
Marc: Now that wass digital smoke, and that is a model.
Albert: Green screen model.
Marc: Yeah, we modeled the windows and actually shot it in our parking lot right here in Highland, in Santa Monica Boulevard.
John: Now we built- we do builds on the- building’s blowing up is better with models. The cars we've found we can do just digitally, but the buildings really look great with the model.
Marc: But we still use the model for the car as well. We just don't have the time or the money to do full explosions, you know, we do just a little aftermath with some debris and smoke.
Albert: Especially when it's someone's real house.
Marc: Yes.
Albert: Don't want to-
John: Generally they kind of frown on that, of just blow out the windows.
Albert: Because last year we did, Marc and I worked on another episode where we blow up a warehouse. And it was an abandoned warehouse, so you blow out the windows and break the glass, so it's not such a big deal.
Marc: Yeah, we did a little damage to the Prison Break set on that. What they shot was-
John: I remember, because I pulled up the day you were shooting that, I was like ‘I hope I haven't missed the blow.’ I was a quarter mile away and my windshield shook and I'm like OK, that was a little bigger than we anticipated’.
Albert: But this was a house with six kids was it?
Marc: Six kids, yeah.
Albert: So it was-
John: So blowing it up wouldn't have changed it all that much.
Albert: Probably not. Actually that family was incredibly neat.
John: And this is a lot of fun. And again, this is where, if you pay attention, we never tell you Tara’s backstory; if you pay attention all six episodes, you can figure out exactly what Tara used to do before she became a con woman. The information she knows, the way she puts stuff together, you’ll figure it out. Also the yelling. This was a lot of fun, because Eliot would be annoyed in this situation, and Chris Kane is never funnier than when Eliot is incredibly annoyed.
Marc: That’s right, and it's usually with Hardison.
John: Yeah. Thank you, I don't know how you make this show without phone cameras I really- we couldn't have made this show in 1978 this would've been a lot harder.
Albert: Or earbuds.
John: Or earbuds. Well earbuds we could've got around, but- no earbuds might have made our life easier, actually.
Albert: This was another thing that came up in research, actually, when I wrote a book about the Chinese Triads, and it is actually true that they're signature weapon is a meat cleaver. We looked at a few pictures of them, they're pretty impressive; they are really big and they have engravings on them, stuff like that. I've also looked at way too many pictures of victims of the Triads.
Marc: Yeah, missing fingers, and hands, and arms.
Albert: But that, again, it just added another fun element, knowing that there was, in reality there was a signature weapon that they use, and gave Eliot another fight scene.
John: Of course they'd be fancy meat cleavers, you're not gonna just pick a meat cleaver at Tesco or the kitchen section of Best Buy; you're gonna get one specially made. This was a lot of fun, too, something we haven't done in a while, which was watching Eliot figure out his fight space. You know, control access doing the math in this head. You know, it's always a little easier if no ones around him, just so he can tear people around a little easier. Fun stunt. Jerri did this, right?
Marc: Yeah, she was really nervous about doing her first fight with us, but she was a trooper; she did a great job.
John: She actually killed that guy. I feel a little bad about that, that's the first time we've admitted that, but you know. This was one of my favorite fights, cause we don't do a lot of weapon fights.
Marc: Yeah.
John: And it really reads well; the cleavers read real. Also we do a nice fight style with Chris here.
Albert: We did use cleavers back in the first season with the Wedding Job.
John: Oh that's right, we had the kitchen thing.
Albert: A kitchen thing. But it was a different kind of fight; it was a one on one in an enclosed space. This was an open space with multiple attackers ,and again, different props to use. So like, you saw the mannequin dummy there, and the rolling carts, and things like that, and so it ended up being a really fun scene.
John: And again, thank god for the surveillance culture - the fact that there are so many traffic cameras. Although you may bitch about privacy, it really helps us.
Marc: It really, really helps us.
John: This was interesting. This- I forget how this came up, I think the fact he had two IDs, but they had only checked one. I had a friend who was a Mountie- and remember, we were talking about my buddy who had done undercover up in Canada, and gh said the problem was, the guys got the fake, ran up records on fake Canadian IDs and you never knew the original crimes. Yeah. ‘Hey, how does Tara Cole know how to handle a meat cleaver?’ You’ll find-
Marc: Yup.
John: There you go, and that's a nice hit. And the head butt. I love the head butt, I'm sorry, man, that's a great way to end a fight.
Marc: She gets to take part.
John: Also, there's a lot of really nice hair flipping around in that fight scene, I gotta say.
Marc: I love-
John: I don't know whose looks better.
Marc: It's like a [Unintelligible. Sounds like ‘Germat’?] commercial.
[Laughter]
John: And that's, again, one of the problems with having a really uber competent team is, ‘OK they would have run this guy's background. What is the one loophole we could find that Hardison could screw up?’ You know, it's not screw up, it's nobody’s perfect.
Albert: It's just overlooked.
John: That's the trick, it has to always be some sort of fair play thing. Not a mistake, not just a ‘I didn't look in that drawer.’ This is a legitimate loophole.
Albert: Look how great this location is, though. It's everywhere; there's stuff everywhere. We really would not have been able to duplicate this on a set. 
Marc: No.
John: What? No?
Marc: Never. 
John: I love that he keeps the voice up here. That killed me here the first time I saw the dalies I was like, ‘Is he still doing Lagerfeld’?
Marc: Jack Bouvier. 
John: Yeah the fingerless gloves are really the pièce de résistance there. There's a lot of stuff there that could be on anybody, but the fingerless gloves really digs in.
Albert: Again, that's straight out of the Lagerfeld book.
Marc: Tim went for it.
John: Are those glasses actually rose tinted?
Albert: Yes.
John: Yes they are, that's magnificent. And the evil speech of evil: ‘Listen, I'm just a businessman. I have obligations.’ You know, in his head he's keeping many people employed back in China. You know, and he's a copy fighter, he's like those electronic freedom foundation guys who doesn't believe in copyright.
Albert: He's a hero, really.
John: He is a hero.
Albert: Of his own story, but- 
John: Exactly, he just happens to interact with our story. 
Albert: Exactly.
John: And this is actually a cue, this is a hint to where Nate’s- This winds up being the first episode of the second half of the season. This is kind of a hint of where Nate’s arc is going for the season, where he's getting so addicted to control and not losing and beating the bad guy, he's starting to make poor decisions. And he makes a series of remarkably poor decisions through the back six that really just the competence of the team protects him from.
Albert: He's kind of like those football teams that keep pulling it out in the 4th quarter and just decide that's just what they have to do. So they don’t mind coasting through the rest of the game or even, you know, getting down and behind before then.
John: Yeah it's- it's the mental discipline, and something that Parker says later on in the season which is, ‘Be the Nate Ford that we came back for.’ The mental discipline that made him legendary and which they count on is starting to slip. And it's not because of the booze, it's because of what he's substituting the booze with.
Marc: Right.
John: This is me drinking my Guinness, by the way.
[Laughter]
Albert: It's not your Guinness, it's what you’re substituting for the Guinness.
John: No, no, this is my Guinness; I'm actually drinking.
Albert: Oh ok. It's actually another Guiness that is substituting for his Guinness.
[Laughter]
John: It's, again, a Guinness that's somewhere else that I would like to be drinking. Some bargaining, trying to get them to take Eliot instead of Jeri.
Marc: That wasn't something he planned for. 
John: No, no, and it's interesting, and again, this is all trust issues. She kind of volunteered herself for this position, she’s, you know- 
Albert: The trick is, part of the whole episode was really the character dynamics. Because it was a new character, because it was a new team member, even though she'd been introduced in the episode beforehand, this is really the first full con they run together as a team. So it was a very tricky thing, and so I had the outlines of what the broad strokes would be, but this is the point when you go to the show runner and you say, ‘John how does this work, exactly?’ And then John takes over.
John: We stare at the ceiling and- that's what the writers room is for. And this is great, we actually wound up paralleling this shot. You created this shot for this episode, Marc; we wound up paralleling this argument in, like, two other episodes. There's actually a similar version of this shot in the first half in the season finale, where it's like, we are now sitting judgment of Nate Ford, and we’re a little distrubed that we’re not feeling very comfortable here. Yeah, and this cutting pattern replicates, and it’s interesting, and it's because we have editors working over certain episodes that make certain choices. And those are I think the names of-
Albert: They were real Electric Entertainment employees.
John: ‘Maybe I want to meet...’ Yes. Hardison is the most hard done by character; he never gets what he wants. And that, again, is one of those things where this episode was shot in 6 ½ days.
Marc: Yes, there's my mother-in-law.
John: There you go; she's a lovely woman.
Marc: A lovely woman.
John: Are you checking the list of actors to pick her name up? That's not good.
Marc: No, gosh no.
John: You know, we had four different ways this scam works. All depending on exactly how this shooting schedule worked out. And I remember I had to sit down with my wife and I was like, ‘Alright’, cause she's big into this, I was like, ‘Exactly what is the timing and choreography on a fashion show?’ And there, the thing with the dresses and they're all transported across town. So it was a good lesson for writers is, the great thing about TV is you're shooting every week; the really great thing about TV that will also drive you crazy is, you learn how to have a bunch of choices. Because sometimes the world decides not cooperate with you, and you can't shut down production for two days and just go- You've worked on big films, you've seen this. Like, ‘You know what? We're just gonna take a day off and find the right location.’
Marc: Yes.
John: No. Not so much.
Albert: The scene coming up with Parker in the gown. This is really, if you think about it and you say that you're gonna do an episode with the Leverage team involved in the fashion world, kind of the promise of the premise is you're gonna get Parker in a fashion show. In a gown, in a fashion show.
John: Right, because she's the one person who would despise it.
Albert: Right, and you kind of have to deliver this scene.
John: This was also shot later, and it was interesting because we don't usually get Parker and Eliot- you know, Parker and Eliot in a two-hander. And if you go back, you can see in the back half of the season when we- especially when we saw how it worked out in The Lost Heir Job, it became kind of a little more standard that we go to this partnership. You also see it pop up in the bottle show, the bar show, what the hell did we call it?
Marc: Bottle Job.
John: We called it The Bottle Job, that's right.
Marc: The problem with doing these two-handers is he can get her to laugh and break.
John: Yeah, Chris can crack Beth up. Him doing the dirty dresses on the floor line, Beth I think broke character maybe ten times because we are in the basement shooting that day. 
Marc: And this is the dress that Nadine our costume designer built.
Albert: Yeah.
John: It's a pretty amazing dress.
Marc: A beautiful dress.
John: The thumb drive of intent. Thank you thumb drive, for giving us a short hand so audiences know what we're doing. 
Marc: Yes, so she basically- you'll see that all of the Andre V, that's the Andre V character, has a touch of yellow in it.
John: That's right. Nadine created a unified theme for the fashion line - the fake fashion line that we were doing. 
Albert: She created an actual line.
Marc: Yeah, so she created a whole line and there's a touch of yellow in everything and as you’ll see when we get to the runway-
John: Where's this dress? We should auction this dress off.
Albert: Nadine probably has it.
Marc: It's actually in my car.
John: Oh no. I wish I didn't know that.
Marc: And then Dave Connell carried it with the lighting design as well.
John: Oh that's great, that is great. It's like we do this for a living.
Marc: Almost.
John: I love that Parker does the most- the little slide across the spot; that's a lot of fun. And now, did you shoot this at night? You had how many days on this set?
Marc: I think we did this-
John: You had the day, which was the warm up and then-
Marc: I think we had this location for two days.
John: That's not bad.
Marc: That's Jeffery Gilbert who played Andre V; he was just great. And I love Parker with the moves.
John: With the big head turn.
Marc: Just for a moment she thinks she got it under control, of course.
John: No, not so much. Walking is hard; walking in those heels is hard.
Albert: Walking in heels is hard.
John: I also love the little improv- it wasn’t in the script, but I remember seeing it in the dalies - she cracks her neck.
Marc: Yes that was definite Parker move. And I know this had to be- the scene coming up had to be a John Rogers line, where it's written that Andre V is banging his head repeatedly against the wall.
[Laughter]
John: Well, yeah, because I do that in the writers room.
Marc: And they said, ‘We gotta move on.’ I said, ‘No, I need to get the guy banging his head.’
John: Trust me, have some sympathy. And this is where we pay off the idea that Tara has heard about this team, and now believes she's given Nate one clue as to what she’s gonna do and she's desperately hoping they're as good as they think they are, and she’s doing the set up to this, she's setting up this beat. It was tricky, because we did actually play- she does actually look like she's selling the team out here, and if you're watching the DVD, you are watching all the way through the seasons. aAnd we did go back and forth on how loyal would she be to the team. And it really is the fact that one of the reasons you watch the show, or at least I think one of the reasons you watch the show, is the family vibe.
Albert: Absolutely.
John: And just having somebody who wasn’t into the family vibe in the middle of it, it might've been interesting from a writing standpoint, and we’re all fans of the show who write the show, it wasn’t interesting from an audience standpoint; it felt a little overly clever, a little constructed. But we do it just enough that we can get she's part of the team, but she doesn't buy into Nate’s bullshit, and as a result her actions in the finale make some sort of organic sense. And the van, oh, the van.
Marc: Gotta have the van.
John: Not anymore.
[Laughter]
Marc: Well-
John: No the- and this, again, we had like four variations how this particular con worked. Who did those designs? Who did-? We have a lot of actual fashion designs floating around in this.
Marc: I think Nadine.
Albert: Nadine and her team did pretty much everything.
John: They sketched them up and sent them off to Derek to do the computer graphics.
Albert: They did the sketches, they did the buckles sketches, they designed the clothes. Like I said, this was a real- this was a field day for the wardrobe and makeup and hair.
Marc: For the glam department.
John: That was nice, too. Cause the thing we originally missed, that having him hand him the badge, it’s a nice touch. Again, the trick when you’re doing- Some of the endings we stop and explain a lot, some just kind of unroll, and you have to make sure you set up all the pieces. And a lot of times when you're running and gunning and shooting, that stuff goes away.
Marc: It does. And so much of it is like, you get to a certain scene like, oh my god, in the flashback you're supposed to see that happens later.
John: Do you break those off separately when you shoot these or-? I mean, I know you, kind of, barely read the script.
Marc: A lot of times they are within the scenes and god bless Suzanne, our script supervisor, she just, she-
John: She's the best. She's actually the best I've  ever worked with.
Marc: She's the gatekeeper, yeah, she’s amazing. 
John: A Script Supervisor’s job, in case you don't know, if you're watching, is to sit next to the Director with a copy of the script, with special notations that they go to school to learn, to track what is in every shot, what the angles are, what the sizes are, who’s crossing, who’s walking in from what direction.
Marc: She's basically- she's keeping score and she’s the directors best friend, or worst enemy.
John: You will hear a lot of directors, even really experienced directors say-
Marc: As well as an editor, because, you know, an editor just gets a hard drive of footage, and if he can't decipher her notes, then he's gonna struggle as well.
John: I've seen really experienced directors, guys who are famous, they will finish and will turn to their script supervisor and go ‘What do I need?’ Cause they're watching the coverage while the directors watching the-
Marc: And we do a lot of different things and as a director, you're watching performances, and you're making sure you're hitting all the right emotional beats, and you know, when we do certain scenes where we have multiple characters, or you’re doing a 360-
John: We have a five-hander here.
Marc: Yeah, or doing a 360 and the camera’s going around and around, you need someone to be keeping score for you.
John: I like the physicality, by the way, watching this again, of watching Tim does with his face when he’s with the character and when he's just dropped it, and all of a sudden that kind of fake character, the wardrobe doesn't matter if he's just pissed, and you know he's dug in.
Marc: As soon as he's pulled off the glasses-
John: It's Nate.
Marc: It's Nate. 
John: Great job.
Marc: And we haven't even had him say that, when Tom, later on, you know, points that out, you're not even who you say you are, he, like, looks at him in a certain way.
John: Yeah. No, nice call. The- oh yes, this was, again, interesting, is one of the things that really depends on the speed with which these guys can rip this stuff off. You know, in one of the original versions we were talking about where the dresses are actually transported- right after the fashion show, the dresses actually are driven across town and are put in a private closed viewing for the buyers. They won’t let anybody else close to those dresses because even with photographs, they can be knocked off within a matter of 48-72 hours. Which is stunning, which is what you're trying to fight when you're trying to fight piracy. And hung by his own sin, which is one of the rules.
Albert: There's always a rule. Yup. Going back to the wardrobe and hair and makeup departments, the other thing you don't end up seeing is that they went through a lot of their own iterations of what- before what you see on the screen. They did a lot of tests, they did a lot of different looks. If we had time, we could probably show all these other test photos they took, and different hair configurations, and make up, and at one point they did this whole sort of Kabuki look, but we decided that might've been a little too fashion forward for this show. They really went all out.
Marc: They went all out.
John: Did you say fashion forward?
Albert: Sure.
Marc: And some of them were just based on the element of time, you know, we wouldn't have time to change actors over to a certain style, and-
John: Yeah, cause I mean, that's the thing, is when the difference between shooting Parker as Parker, and shooting Parker as Parker as fashion model, is two hours to change that character's look.
Albert: At least.
John: At least. And the walk of victory.
Marc: Dun dun dunnn.
John: This is nice, this is- I, you know, I always love the 60s, 70s call back; it's a nice style choice. Also, you've got that great street to shoot down. Where was that? Was that outside of-?
Marc: That was right outside of the actual warehouse location.
Albert: Across the river.
Marc: Just across the river from downtown Portland, so it was really close; you know, had a nice overpass.
John: Looked like that section of T that’s elevated.
Marc: This, again, is supposed to be in Asia, which was actually just another area of the warehouse again.
John: And then that's a kind of an iconic shot for this show now. That's nice, the Jeri Ryan era, as the fans call it. If you go on the boards and see the fans arguing over which six episodes are the best in the giant ouvre of Leverage ouvre. And she pays a horrible horrible price for her treachery.
Albert: Those are real working steam presses, and I can tell you from having been there, they were ridiculously hot. 
[Laughter]
Albert: I didn't want to be anywhere near it. I was like, ‘Wow, Gloria is really a trooper going through this.’ She had to learn how to operate it; it had, like, foot petals and things.
John: This is why it's good to be a writer, is, we write horrible things and then the directors and actors go live there, while we occasionally- Sometimes we venture from the hotel room to go visit the set.
Marc: At times.
John: But it's for the best if the writer isn't there; just causes trouble.
Albert: We can go pose and take pictures with the models; that's when we show up on set.
John: Yes. And then this is actually based on, there's a bunch of factories now that are owned by the employees that were taken over. Some car factories, some- there was a big thing in South America for a while of the workers seizing foreclosed factories and opening them up as co-ops.
Marc: I did not know that.
John: Yes, there you go. Anything we can do to undermine the infrastructure of capitalism of America in Leverage we try to, we try to.
Marc: Now this is a happier factory, it's brighter.
John: Brighter colors.
Marc: Yeah, it's brighter colors, there's sound.
[Laughter]
John: I love that. I love you sitting in the director’s chair like, ‘Alright, now make it the happy sweatshop.’
Marc: How else can we make them happy?
John: Lunch breaks.
Marc: Lunch breaks! Sandwiches. Sandwiches make everyone happy. Everybody’s happy with a sandwich.
John: There you go, and milk, that's delicious. Look, and we saw that particular extra was unhappy earlier.
Albert: That's right.
Marc: She was.
John: There you go; really sold it. And again, it's interesting because, you know, you shot two years of this now, and you understand the vics aren't a big part of actual screen time, they are on in the opening, they're on in the closing. Those actors are insanely important, because it means you have to like them really fast, and if you don't like them really fast, you know, it won’t pay off.
Marc: Yeah, and they have to keep up because, you know, it's not like we get a lot of time to do rehearsals, and so some of the crux of the episode can be in their hands.
Albert: Oh yeah, the emotional core of the story always hinges on the victims and their choices.
John: And sometimes those scenes with Tim Hutton in the bar, that's the entire reason you're gonna care about this episode. And this is a lot of fun with- this is when we- again, we really track, if you watch the back six episodes where Tara Cole feels in how she's getting the money. Happy about getting the money, ambivalent about getting the money, not caring so much, you know. She never doesn't care, cause that's just wrong. And now, it's interesting, Tim and I had a nice conversation about this particular phone call, cause he called me about this and he's like, ‘I'm not sure where we're going with this.’ I'm like, ‘You know that moment when you've had an argument with the wife and you've realized you've said the wrong thing and you can never take it back?’ And he's like, ‘Oh yeah.’ and I'm like, ‘That one right there.’ And it's one of my favorite little Nate/Sophie scenes and they're not even in the same room. Because it's, you know, it's- banter is fun, relationships are hard.
Marc: Right.
Albert: Oh I like that. Banter is fun, relationships are hard. 
John: And, you know, end of day, unless you show a couple of these scenes every now and then, you don't buy these relationships as real. And that's why I think one of the reasons the Eliot/Nate relationship feels very grounded is, we give opportunity for Chris Kane and Tim to kind of dig in on the fact that they don't always agree, those characters.
Albert: And you gotta give somewhere for the characters to go. That's the thing about a scene like this, at the end it gives them somewhere to go after here.
John: That was great. Thank you so much, guys, that was a lot of fun. The episode was fantastic.
Albert: That was The Runway Job.
Marc: Thank you.
John: Anything you wanna say to the nice folks before we move onto the next one?
Marc: Stay tuned.
[Laughter]
John: It's a DVD, I don't think they’re gonna wander off-
Marc: For the season.
John: Oh for another season, that's right. Season 3. Albert anything you wanna say?
Albert: No this was great, this was, I think, my third episode working with Marc. Third, that I'd written. Kind of fourth.
John: Kind of codependent.
Marc: Yes, yes.
Albert: We are, but I've learned that one thing: banter is fun, but relationships are hard, so we gotta keep working on it.
Marc: That’s right.
63 notes · View notes
realcube · 4 years
Text
comfort hcs 💗 feat. overworked! reader
characters: yaku, oikawa, yams & akaashi
trigger warning: swearing
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thank you to anon for this sweet request!
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morisuke yaku
♡ he has concerned mom energy to i feel like he’d notice that you’re overworking yourself before starts negatively effecting you 
♡ once he figures out that you’re actually stressed and he’s not just being paranoid, he will probably hold an intervention where is like ‘sit down, let’s have a cha--’
♡ but you just push him out the way to grab your coat, ‘sorry, sweetheart. i don’t wanna miss my bus!’
♡ DFRTYJUHG he just stood there like a statue looking at you like (●__●) this bitch-
♡ anyway, once you come back from uni/college/school/ work etc yaku insists that you need to sit down and discuss your problems with him 
♡ then you’re kinda just like ‘what problems?????’
♡ also, after what happened that morning, yaku was not taking ‘no’ as an answer
♡ no matter what you say 
♡ homework? you can do that later
♡ chores? he’ll do them for you if you just listen to him
♡ hungry? you can eat while you listen to him
♡ showering? you smell fine!
♡ so yeah, he will pick you up and carry you to the living room if he has to
♡ he’s probably really serious about the issue bc your feelings aren’t a joke to him but he lined up your favourite plushies on the couch so he could talk to them as a third party when you disagreed with him
♥ ♡ ♥ ♡ ♥ ♡ ♥
“i study in moderation! and i have not been neglecting our relationship; i just need to focus on my studies!” you tutted, averting your gaze from yaku’s as you thought about his accusation; did he really feel as though you had been taking him for granted? because of course, that wasn’t your intention at all and the more you thought about it, the more you realise that perhaps he was right.
yaku rolled his eyes at your response, quite enraged by your dismissive tendencies but he didn’t want to take his anger out on you so he simply turned to the kiiroitori plush that sat beside him, “duck, do you think (l/n) has been overworking themselves and ignoring both of us?”
kiirotori was forced by yaku’s hand to nod in response.
you snorted slightly before trying to furrow your eyebrows in anger once again, “their name is kiiroitori!” 
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tōru oikawa
♡ dsfghjkl ngl he clearly overworks himself too so he wouldn’t even notice 
♡ he’s like ‘oh, you’re spending hours upon hours of a day - losing sleep and energy - to dedicate yourself solely to one thing so you can be perfect at it??? that’s completely normal!’
♡ spoiler alert, it’s not
♡ it’d probably take a third-party to point that what you are both doing isn’t healthy (either iwaizumi or a therapist)
♡ then you’d both look at each other like ⚆_⚆ wut 
♡ anyway recovery time ig ✨
♡ he’d definitely just try distract you whenever he sees you studying/training/practising
♡ forget overwork, he doesn’t even let you work 
♡ oh and y’all have started having ‘lazy days’ once a month where you make it a point to nothing but each other :))
♥ ♡ ♥ ♡ ♥ ♡ ♥
you both stared at the television, pretending to be absolutely engrossed by jumanji. however, once you let out your fifth sigh that minute, oikawa could tell that you were just as disinterested as he was so he peered over his shoulder to look at you, “this is so boring.” 
you nodded, shuffling closer to him so he could drape his arm around your shoulder and bury his nose into your hair. “it’s so hard to just sit here and do nothing when i know that i have a lot to do, y’know?”
oikawa hummed in agreement, “but it’s nice to finally spend some quality time with you, angel.” he placed a kiss on your temple, scooting awkwardly in his seat before pulling you down to lay down next to him on couch. 
“yeah,” you purred, happily falling onto the soft cushions while in oikawa’s embrace, “i’ve suddenly had a change of heart - i love these lazy days.”
“that was fast.”
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tadashi yamaguchi
♡ it would take him a wile to built up the courage to actually express his concern about you overworking yourself
♡ but until then, he’ll show them in more subtle ways
♡ like if he sees you working at your desk - whether your posture is straight or not - he’ll rush up to you and massage your shoulders/back while talking
♡ he always sends you goodnight texts and gets v snappy when you text him in the middle of the night 
♡  ‘tadashi, what did you get for number five on the maths hw?’
♡ if he opens the message and notices that you sent that crazy late at night or the ass crack of dawn, he’ll lose his shit
♡  ‘(Y/N) WHY WERE U UP AT 3AM DOING MATHS HW LITERALLY GO TO SLEEP’
♡ he forces himself to ask you out on dates irl so that if you use work/training/practise etc as an excuse..he can give the puppy eyes 🥺
♡ don’t get me wrong, he’s not manipulative at all but you just overwork yourself so much he think that the teeniest tiniest little bit of fun wouldn’t do you any harm 
♡ he literally cares for you so much and he just wants you to be healthy and happy like is that too much to ask ಥ_ಥ
♡ it would take him 3 months of mental preparation to confront you but he’d do it eventually lol
♡ he’d still be super duper nervous though 👉👈
  ♥ ♡ ♥ ♡ ♥ ♡ ♥
“(y/n).” yamaguchi’s soft voice rang quietly through the hallway before he stuck his head inside your room in search for you. he let out a sigh upon noticing that - like always - you were sitting at your desk, drowning in papers of schoolwork. 
he hurriedly approached you, suddenly throwing his arms around your shoulders as he hid his face in the crook of your neck before wailing, “(y/n)! i know it’s none of my business but i just think you work yourself way too hard and i see how sleepy you are all the time and you didn’t even eat the cupcakes i made you because you were too busy studying - i thought you loved my cupcakes!”
your eyes widened at the sudden contact and the string of words yamaguchi was babbling in your ear; but you semi-understood what he was getting at. so you steadily turned around to wrap your arms around his neck and rub his spine reassuringly, “i am so sorry, tadashi. i had no idea i was worrying you.”
he shook his head against the skin of your neck, “it’s fine, i worry about everything.” he joked before changing to a more serious tone, “it’s just that-- i think you should care more about yourself. take some time to relax once and a while, y’know?”
his sweet words resulted in your lips curling to a smile while his arms wrapped securely around your body brought you a much-needed feeling of peace, “alright, i’ll try.”
“good.” yamaguchi chirped, pecking your forehead then positioning his face where it was prior, going back to enjoying the feeling of your soft skin agaist his. “-so, are you gonna eat the cupcakes or”
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keiji akaashi 
♡ he overworks himself too
♡ if anything, i think he’d praise you for being ‘hard-working’ at first ‘:)
♡ but once he notices how much you work and how negatively it’s effecting your mental/physical health, he’ll intervene
♡ like yamaguchi, i think he’d start small by subtly doing things to reverse the effects of your stress 
♡ and simultaneously, it kinda helps him too
♡ for example, if you get stress ance, he’ll do a bunch of research on the best skin treatments for it, buy the products then do facemasks with you + create a whole new nightly skincare routine for both of you 
♡ or if your not taking care of yourself properly, he’ll book you both in for a spa appointment 
♡ or if you’re tense, he’ll get you both massages from those professional ppl that make you strip naked
♡ when they make you get your tiddies out, you know they are a professional  masseuse
♡ and he’ll take out on ten times more just to help you relax
♡ also, they’re always slow-paced dates bc like ofc akaashi takes you out to the park/beach for picnics....does he seem the sort of guy to take you bowling?? no.
♥ ♡ ♥ ♡ ♥ ♡ ♥
you sighed as akaashi brought a spoon up to your lips, looking at you expectantly but you simply whined, “keiji, i should be at home studying right now. you know my exam in 5 months, right?” though akaashi wanted to believe you were joking, the seriousness in your voice made it clear that you genuinely thought 5 months was a short period of time - even considering all the work you’ve already done in preparation for it. 
so akaashi simply shrugged in response, continuing to prod your lip with the spoon until you parted you lips, allowing the pudding he made to enter your mouth. then, he pulled it out lower it to observe your pouty expression for a moment; you were so cute that he couldn’t help but smile softly. 
“i’m sure you’ll do fine, sweetheart. i believe in you.” he said, gripping your waist before placing a tender kiss on your cheek. “for now, let’s enjoy this perfect weather. it only comes around once a year, so why not make the most of it, hm?” 
before you were able to reply, akasshi utilized the hand  the had on your waist to pull you back onto the picnic blanket with him, so you were both looking up at the pale blue sky, decorated with delicate clouds. “what do you see?” he inquired, gesturing up to the shapes the clouds formed.
you snickered, slowly intertwining your finger with his as you examined the sky for any familiar shapes or silhouettes in the sky. “oh!” you exclaimed, lifting your index finger to point to a particular cloud adorning the sky, “that kinda looks like my maths professor in a gallon hat.” 
akaashi snorted, “i have no idea what your maths professor looks like but alright.”
you laughed, lowing your finger but not everting your gaze from the special cloud you spotted, “what about you, babe? what do you see?”
with a moment of hesitation, akaashi immediately replied, “an angel.”
your eyes scanned across the sky for a cloud in the shape on an angel but you simply couldn’t find the one he was referring to, so you whipped your head to the side to see where he was pointing, only notice that his eyes were fixated on you. 
“y-you’re such a simp, keiji.”
108 notes · View notes
suituuup · 4 years
Text
pandemic shenanigans
Chloe discovers TikTok and decides to do a bunch of pranks on her girlfriend
rated: T
word count: 3k
ao3 link
*
It’s the pandemic’s fault. 
Chloe was bored af one day at the start of quarantine, and decided to download TikTok, the app Gen Z has been raving about. Little did she know five minutes on the app could turn into four hours without her being aware and brought procrastination to another level. 
She quickly becomes addicted to cute animal videos (duh) and couple pranks. So addicted that the temptation of trying a few on her girlfriend is too great. 
i. Did you forget what today was
“Morning,” Beca mumbles, rubbing her eye with the heel of her palm as she shuffles towards the coffee pot. While Chloe’s an early bird, Beca rarely makes it out of bed before ten on the weekends, and Chloe is usually already showered and dressed by the time she does. 
She and Beca live in that same studio which they used to share with Amy, until their Australian friend inherited some serious money and moved out. 
It’s been really nice to have an actual bed instead of that crappy pull-out couch. 
“Good morning,” Chloe chirps, craning her neck to accept the kiss Beca brushes to her lips. Beca slides in the chair across hers, pouring some milk in the bowl Chloe’s set out for her, followed by cereals.
(yes, she’s that weirdo who puts the milk first.)
“What?” Beca pauses with her first spoonful halfway to her mouth, finally noticing Chloe staring at her. 
“Did you forget what today was?” She asks with a raised eyebrow, cradling her mug in her hands.
Beca blinks, and Chloe can nearly see the fuck popping up in her brain as panic flashes in her eyes. “Uh, Saturday?” 
Chloe purses her lips, both to appear annoyed and to keep her bubbling laughter in. “Beca.” 
Beca’s nose scrunches up. “I know, I know, gimme a sec. This is not our anniversary, or your birthday, you’re not working today so there’s nothing important regarding your job,” she lists off, her eyes lighting up a beat later. “Oh! Is it this weekend Aubrey’s coming up?” 
“No,” Chloe sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I can’t believe you forgot.”
“Shit, I’m sorry,” Beca rushes out, standing up and crossing the distance between them to sit across Chloe’s lap. She kisses her softly, looping her arms around her neck. “I’m sorry. What’s going on today? I promise I’ll make time for it. And I’ll give you a massage tonight to make up for being a bad girlfriend. And we can eat whatever you like.” Smirking mischievously, she adds in a lower tone, “And, I’ll let you do whatever you wanna do to me later.” 
Chloe grins, unable to hold it any longer. “Nothing’s going on, babe. I was just messing with you.” 
Beca’s jaw falls open as she pulls back, glaring. “Not cool, dude!”
Chloe simply giggles, nuzzling her neck and pressing an apologetic kiss to Beca’s skin. “You’re cute when you’re panicking.”
A huffs puffs free and Beca pouts. “Whatever.”
Chloe tightens her hold around Beca’s waist so she can’t get away. “Can I still do whatever I want to you tonight?” 
The whimper that rises from Beca’s throat shoots a chill down her spine. Beca’s cheeks redden and she squirms a little in Chloe’s lap. “Yeah--yes.” 
Safe to say Chloe won’t be uploading that video on TikTok. She also won’t tell Beca this was a Tiktok prank, because this turned out to be a lot of fun and she’s got more up her sleeve.
ii. climb on their lap while they’re busy doing something else
Friday nights are Chloe’s favorite. As none of them work during the weekends, it means they get two whole days of quality time with each other. Tonight though, her highly professional girlfriend needs to take care of a few work things to make sure she can spend a stress free weekend, but it’s been hours, and Chloe is kind of craving some attention. 
Beca’s working on her laptop while sitting on the couch, and after changing into her PJ’s, Chloe unceremoniously curls up sideways on her lap, looping her arms around her shoulders and resting her forehead against the side of Beca’s neck. 
“Oh,” Beca breathes out, setting her computer aside before her arms loosely wrap around Chloe’s body. “Hello.” 
“Hi,” Chloe murmurs back, brushing a kiss to Beca’s neck and releasing a soft sigh of contentment. 
Beca’s hand runs up and down her thigh as she pushes a kiss to Chloe’s hair. “You alright?” 
Chloe hums, forgetting all about her phone propped against one of the shelves capturing the moment to make a TikTok, instead basking in the instant comfort being in Beca’s arms provides. 
Beca peppers her face with soft, featherlight kisses that make Chloe warm from the inside out. She really is a slut for Beca’s affection. “M’sorry I had to work tonight.” 
Chloe smiles. “It’s okay.” She pecks Beca’s lips and brushes her nose against hers. “I’m heading to bed. Don’t work too late, babe.” 
Beca nods, winking softly. “Right behind you.” 
True to her word, Beca slides under the covers less than five minutes later and tugs Chloe’s body against her own. Chloe releases another happy sigh, which is cut-off by a yelp when Beca runs her freezing toes along Chloe’s bare calf. 
“Becs!” She cries, moving away and slapping her arm. “Your feet are freaking icicles!” 
Beca snickers like a teenager, seemingly very proud of her act. 
“Put some socks on.” 
Beca’s nose scrunches up adorably. “Ew. No way.” 
“Then stay on your side,” Chloe grumbles, tugging the covers higher around her as she rolls away from Beca, settling on her opposite side. 
“Sorry,” Beca whispers into the dark, shuffling closer. “I won’t do it again.” 
She feels her resolve break as Beca’s lips trace a trail from her exposed shoulder blade to the side of her neck. She hates her traitorous body for not having any willpower when it comes to Beca’s ministrations. “You better not, or I’ll kick you,” she half-jokes. 
“Kinky,” Beca breathes along with a soft laugh, pressing one final kiss to Chloe’s cheek as she drapes her arm around her middle. “I love you.” 
Chloe laces their fingers and squeezes. “I love you too, weirdo.” 
iii. walking out naked while they’re in a zoom meeting 
“Well what doesn’t he like about it?” Beca’s voice carries from the living-room as Chloe stands in their bedroom, a towel wrapped around her naked frame. 
That video of her and Beca cuddling on the couch blew up, hitting 3 millions views and about 400k likes. The few homophobic comments that popped up were quickly drowned out by thousands of people gushing over their relationship or crying about wanting the same kind of relationship. 
Beca was of course aware Chloe would post that video on the internet and weirdly wasn’t opposed to it. 
“Again?” She hears her girlfriend sigh and steps out, losing the towel as she rounds the corner. “I mean, yeah, sure. I’ll see what I--” 
Beca’s words die on her tongue the second her eyes flicker up from her computer screen. Her jaw drops and her mouth gapes wordlessly for a few seconds. 
Chloe is briefly concerned she might have broken her girlfriend.
“Beca?”  Her boss’ voice carries through the speakers, snapping Beca back to her meeting. 
“Yes, yeah-- um-- sorry, I…” She stammers as her cheeks burn, and clears her throat. Her eyes quickly glance back to Chloe, who is fighting against a string of giggles. “I’ll-- I’ll work on something else, no problem.” 
“Alright, keep me posted.”
Beca nods. “See ya.” She shuts her computer so fast Chloe’s concerned she might have damaged it. “You’re evil,” she mutters, shaking her head. 
“Are you complaining?” Chloe husks, strutting over in her birthday suit and tossing her phone on the couch.
Beca visibly swallows, bracing on Chloe’s waist as she settles down her lap. “Never. But next time try not to give me a heart attack?” 
“Deal,” Chloe murmurs, bending down to capture Beca’s lips in a searing kiss. 
iv. Ask them what they would do if they were at a party and a hot girl came up to them
“Hey Bec?” 
“Mm?” 
It’s a rainy rainy afternoon, the ones Chloe loves as they don’t have anywhere to be, and she gets to chill on the couch with her favorite person while listening to the rain pelting against the window. 
Chloe’s head is on Beca’s lap as she lies on the couch, reading a book while Beca messes around on her phone. Beca has absentmindedly been scratching her scalp, and Chloe was about to fall asleep when she got a prank idea. She discreetly propped up her phone against her mug on the coffee table a minute ago, pressing record. 
“What would you do if you were at a party and a hot girl came up to you?” 
Beca lowers her phone, peering at Chloe over it. “What do you mean?” 
Bending her knees, Chloe shifts to sit up and faces Beca. “What would you do if a hot girl flirted with you?” 
“You know I don’t know when people flirt with me, right?” 
Yes, Chloe does know. She lost count of how many times she’s flirted with Beca over their four years of friendship pre-getting together without Beca having a freaking clue. 
“Okay, but still,” Chloe clears her throat and straightens a bit from her slouched position, tucking her legs underneath her. “Let’s say you’re at a party, and I’m a random girl, not your girlfriend, alright?” 
Beca rolls her eyes but nods anyway, setting her phone down and angling her body towards Chloe a bit more. 
Chloe props her elbow on the back of the couch and cradles the side of her head in her palm as she smiles softly, getting into character. She reaches out to run the tip of her pointer finger along Beca’s forearm while keeping her gaze locked on hers, her teeth racking over her bottom lip in an over-the-top flirty move. “Hi.” 
“Hey you,” Beca murmurs with a small smirk, leaning closer a little. Chloe swats the back of her head. “Ow! What was that for??” 
“It’s not me,” she reminds Beca as the brunette rubs the spot with a glare. 
“Sorry, it’s just hard to remember that with those eyes of yours,” Beca laughs. “I can’t focus, they’re pulling me in.” 
“Aw,” Chloe beams. She leans in to peck Beca’s lips, raising an eyebrow when Beca pushes her away. 
“Dude, I’ve got a girlfriend.” 
Chloe rolls her eyes, shoving her as Beca laughs. “Touché.” 
v. ask them if they still get butterflies
“Bec?” 
“Mmm.” 
Spring morphed into summer. A hot, sticky and humid summer. The pandemic is still very much a thing, and Chloe can’t even tell you what day of the week it is anymore. To make things worse, their AC is down, which is why they find themselves on the rooftop of their apartment building that evening, laying on a couple blankets as they stare up at the night sky. Chloe misses the hundreds of stars she would gaze at when she was a kid in Oregon, but she sort of finds the steady sound of cars passing by in the street below them soothing. 
Or you know, maybe it’s the joint she smoked twenty minutes ago with her girlfriend that is finally hitting her. 
“Do you still get butterflies?” 
Beca’s head rolls to the side so she can look at her. “Still?” She asks, smirking softly. “They never left.” 
Chloe giggles, shoving her lightly. Beca is known to grow sappy and affectionate when she’s high, and Chloe absolutely loves it. “Dork.” 
“Felt them just this morning when you were singing in the kitchen while making breakfast and almost pinched myself because I still have to wrap my head around the fact that I get to marry you.” 
Chloe does a double-take as she registers Beca’s words. “What?” Her voice is barely there, hidden under the layers of emotions seizing her throat. 
“Well… yeah,” Beca shrugs, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re like, it for me, you know?” 
Moments where Beca splits herself open like that are rare, and they never fail to make Chloe’s heart soar. 
“Are you going to say something Beale or keep staring at me like a weirdo?” Beca eventually quips, chuckling softly. 
Chloe shakes her head a little, then leans forward to push a lingering kiss against Beca’s lips. “I love you, future wife.” 
She feels Beca sigh contentedly as she curls up against her side, her arm wounding around Chloe’s back. “I love you, too.”
vi. sigh loudly in front of them
“What’s wrong?” 
It’s day two hundred something of quarantine. Chloe is bored out of her mind. 
“Nothing,” she whispers, keeping her tone unconvincing on purpose. She’s lying on the couch while Beca sits at the end working on her computer, a Friends rerun playing low on the TV. 
Beca shuts her computer and sets it on the coffee table before crawling up Chloe’s body and settling on top of her. She presses a light kiss to the side of Chloe’s neck. “You sure?” 
“Mhm,” Chloe hums, looping her arms around her girlfriend’s waist. 
“I can stop working,” Beca suggests softly, placing another kiss to her chin, then to the tip of her nose. “Wanna go grab some Chick-fil-A? Then we can watch one of those cheesy rom coms that you like.” 
“M’okay,” Chloe agrees quietly. “Can we just cuddle for a bit?” 
“Yeah,” Beca breathes. “Course we can.” She settles her head on Chloe’s chest, lifting it a second later. “Wait, is this a TikTok thing?” Upon Chloe nodding, she groans. “My reputation is taking a blow with each one of those, you know that right?” 
A giggle bursts past Chloe’s lips. “I’m sorry, your what?” 
That earns her a glare. “Bite me, Beale.” 
vii. wipe their kiss away
“I hate this fucking pandemic,” Beca grumbles as she makes it inside, kicking the door shut with a little more force than necessary. “I hate those Karens who don’t wear masks,” she continues as she hoists her two grocery bags on the kitchen counter. “Scratch that, I just hate people in general.” Beca eventually takes off her mask, heaving out a sigh as she drops it onto the counter. “Finally.” 
Chloe smiles in amusement, walking over to start putting the groceries away. “Thanks for going out, babe.” 
“No problem.” She pecks Chloe’s lips on her way to store the yogurt in the fridge, doing a double-take when Chloe wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “Did you just… wipe my kiss away?” 
“What? No I didn’t,” Chloe replies innocently. 
Beca stares at her, cocking an eyebrow. “Was it not up to your standards or something?” 
“I mean…” Chloe shrugs nonchalantly. “It was just a peck.” 
“Mmm.” She resumes her task, closing the door to the fridge behind her before making her way over to where Chloe is standing, setting her hands on her hips from behind and coaxing her to turn around. 
“What are you--” the rest of her sentence is cut off by a moan as Beca’s lips capture her own. Chloe’s knees wobble from the heat of the kiss, its intensity sending shockwaves throughout her body, all the way down to her toes. She’s left in a daze by the time Beca pulls away, blinking twice in slow succession as she rolls her swollen lips together. “Holy shit.” 
Beca puffs out her chest a little, smirking. “That’s better.” 
Groceries forgotten, Chloe slides her hand into hers and drags her to the bedroom. 
viii. call them your spouse during a phone conversation
“I’m home,” Chloe calls out as she steps inside their studio apartment. She pauses in the doorway, taking in her surroundings. 
Their small kitchen table is beautifully set, two candles lit on each side and a gorgeous bouquet of flowers sitting in the center. Soft acoustic music is playing through Beca’s portable speaker. “Hey, you.” 
“What’s all this?” Chloe asks, smiling brightly as she slings her purse off her shoulder, setting it down. 
Beca approaches, a sheepish smile spreading across her features. “Well… because of this freaking pandemic, we haven’t been out in months, so I thought we could just do a home-date. I ordered from your favorite sushi place, should be here any minute.” 
“Aww.” Shrugging off her jacket, Chloe steps up to place a soft kiss to Beca’s lips. “You’re sweet. And very sexy,” she adds with an eyebrow waggle, taking in Beca’s fancy jumpsuit and hairdo. “I’m gonna go change real quick.” 
Chloe hurries to the bedroom and opens her closet to pick something; she can’t remember the last time she wore a dress, her main outfit having consisted of a hoodie and sweatpants for the better part of the year. Plucking her navy blue, knee length dress out, she changes into it and takes ten minutes to arrange her hair and put on light make-up. 
Beca is on the phone as she steps back out into the kitchen, grinning when Chloe appears. “Yep, got it. Listen, I gotta go, my wife and I are about to eat dinner.” 
Chloe freezes mid-step, her heart stuttering as she registers the term Beca used. 
“Sorry about that,” Beca says once she’s hung up, casting Chloe a smile as she sets her phone down. 
“You just called me your wife,” Chloe murmurs, her eyes shrinking suspiciously a beat later. A gasp follows when it hits her. “Wait, are you TikTok pranking me??” Her gaze quickly sweeps the room. “Where’s the camera, Mitchell?” 
Beca simply grins, shaking her head as she reaches for something in her pocket. “Not a prank, babe.” 
Shocked eyes lifting from the square velvet box nestled in Beca’s palm, Chloe watches as Beca steps closer and lowers herself on one knee. Her heart trips dangerously and she stops breathing altogether. “Bec, you better not be lying.” 
The way she seems nervous all of the sudden tells Chloe this is definitely not a prank. “Chloe--” 
“Yes,” Chloe croaks out, tears pooling in her eyes as her head bobs up and down in a frantic nod. 
Beca’s chuckle comes out strained as she blinks back the moisture in her own eyes. “Dude, let me ask the question at least.” 
“Sorry.” Chloe clamps her lips together and squeezes Beca’s hand to wordlessly let her know she may keep going. 
“Chloe,” Beca repeats, her voice wavering slightly. “This year has been weird as fuck, and the most challenging one yet, but despite everything, I had a near constant smile on my face because of you. You’re my best friend, and the most beautiful person I know, inside and out.” She sucks in a deep breath through her nose, letting go of Chloe’s hand to open the box. Chloe gasps softly at the sight of a simple, yet elegant oval cut diamond set on a rose gold band. “Will you make me the happiest person on earth by accepting to become my wife?” 
“Yes.” She tugs on Beca’s hand, capturing her lips in a searing kiss as soon as she straightens. “I love you so much.” 
Beca grins against her mouth, backing away just enough to seek out Chloe’s eyes. “I love you, too.” 
As she stands there basking in this new, overwhelming wave of feelings, Chloe decides that 2020 wasn’t that bad, after all. 
121 notes · View notes
jaeminscoffee · 4 years
Text
The midnight man | l.ty
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Pairing- Lee Taeyong x reader
Mentions- Lee Donghyuck, Na Jaemin, Liu YangYang, Nakamoto Yuta, Seo Johnny, Kim Doyoung, Ten Lee, Lee Dong Wook.
Genre- Horror!au, angst, crack, part fluff.
Warning(s)- Evil entity!Taeyong, Manipulation, Major character death (lmao you'll actually punch yourself towards the end), sexual themes suggested, impulsive decision making, talks with religion.
Word count- 11.83k
Synopsis- 'Lust though pleasurable, innocent and vice, thee shall stay loyal to thy partner regardless of wants. To betray thy partner is to deceive thy people and hence the kingdom. Thou shall pay for thy soul shall remain wandering, driven by the desires but, shall not be able to feel the human love thou took for a grain of salt. And all who shall follow thy steps shall face the same wrath.'
@kpopscape
This story is pure work of fiction and therefore doesn't speak about the mentioned members' personality in real life. I, in no manner, am trying to encourage hate speech towards the members so please don't come at me. This story was written using a mix of a bunch of urban legends and few made up by myself and therefore it isn't going to be spoken about the same way as it is in google. I also worked really hard on this piece and it's by far, the longest story I've written so feedbacks would mean a lot!, also it could get a little boring since i took time to focus on the side characters too. Make sure not to repost my works and sign it off as your own because that's a little disheartening and mockful towards the writer. So all credits reversed to @jaeminscoffee 2020©®
If anyone here doesn't know the story behind the midnight game, then read on! Because I've described it throughout the story! Happy reading!
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29/10, Thursday, 10:57PM
"We need to do something this halloween man, Y/n come on!" 
Your friends all collectively whined as you constantly kept rejecting their proposal. 
Halloween is bullshit. It's overhyped and in all honesty, childish. You'd rather prefer staying home than go house to house and make a fool out of your existence. Not to mention you were all past the age of trick or treating. And to add on top of that came all the sugar rush you'd all go through at the end of the day. "For the last time, Hyuck we're not dressing up like crewmates and going trick or treating. I've got other things to do for the love of god" you grunt, rubbing the scrunched up skin to soothe the pain at the temples. University has been acting up again and so has life. "If your 'other things to do' is binge watch high school musical then no, you have no other better things to do" Yangyang bites back. 
"It's just, I don't feel like it anymore, alright? It feels too weird going out asking for candies when we're all literally 19 and above. It's time to up the notch." you say, plopping down.
When Haechan called for an emergency meeting in pure 'among us' style back at the guys' dorm, you'd expected it to be about something along the lines of having to console Jaemin or someone for having been stood up on a date. What you didn't expect was to have the boys prepare an entire presentation on who'd dress up as what character from among us and who'd be the impostor, do a little play and then say 'red is sus' and then ask for candies. What made it worse was that you thought they were just pulling a prank on you when in all reality, they were dead serious which made you go, 'oh, oh they aren't pretending to be stupid, they're just in their original form.'
"It won't be that bad, doll. It's a genius plan if you ask me" Jaemim chirped in on the conversation finally after looking back and forth between you, Donghyuck and Yangyang caught up in a meaningless fight. "I don't see how any of this is genius, Jaem. If this plan's anything, it's stupid." You pull out your phone after making your way all the way to the headboard of Jaemin's bed. "How about we try out one of these creepy pasta games?" Yuta finally spoke up. Jaemin's brother, an early graduate, senior and of course a dear friend of yours. Yuta, despite the age difference between your classmates and you, had little to no trouble blending in with the tiny group of yours. Probably the only one who didn't behave like a toddler and the most sane one according to you. Yuta's been an amazing planner since junior year where you first met Jaemin, Yangyang and Donghyuck who then proceeded to introduce you to their senior friend group that consists of Yuta, Johnny, Doyoung; Donghyuck's cousin and Ten. You guys had a friendship the entire campus was envious of. But two year after you getting into the university, the seniors had to graduate. But that didn't stop all your bonds from staying as strong as ever. Not even after Ten got his posting in a town a little far away from the one you guys lived in. The distance didn't change anything between you guys and you were as close as you could ever get. 
"Creepypasta?" Donghyuck inquired, looking straight at the guy who aimlessly scrolled down the screen of his device as Yuta didn't even bother looking up while passing the confused boy a nod. Sitting up cross legged from his previous side sitting posture, Yuta showed his phone screen to Donghyuck, who immediately got surrounded by the other two while you stare at the oldest in the room, slightly intrigued by the idea. "Creepypasta's like these horror-related legends that have been copied and pasted around the Internet by people who're too bored for their own sake." you explain as Haechan took the phone out of Yuta's hand who agreed to your explanation. "I read some sick games that I kinda wanna try out and see for myself," he said, looking at you with expectations and then the rest who seemed too immersed in surfing the website. 
"Yuta, you of all people should know better than to think all these made up crap's real" you say nonchalantly. 
Yuta's a huge skeptic, and so were you. Which is why you got along really well despite the mentioned age gap. The night gatherings back at the boy's dormitory or the girls (in this case, girl, yours) would always end up in narration of on spot made up stories of all genre, mostly horror because apparently according to Jaemin 'Rom-com's overhyped, sci-fi won't be fun when you narrate it out loud, mystery can easily turn boring, comedy, meh i guess, but a good horror story narrated properly, -yes, like you, Haechan- while adding jumpscares here and there could actually result in y'all being too scared to use the bathroom on your own'. And yeah, you'd startle here and there but the stories weren't believable enough for you to actually be scared. On the other hand, Haechan and Jaemin were scaredy cats. Literal toddler's who're so gullible, you could literally tell them there was an alien invasion news flash two minutes ago and they'd be hiding under their bed. And then there's Yangyang, he just doesn't care. He goes along with the plans solely for the fun of it and for the other's' (Haechan and Jaemin) reaction. "That's the point. I don't" he shuffled around to shift closer to you,
 "Which is exactly why i want to try them out" 
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Maybe it's the feline that crossed over his body, maybe it was the fact that his spirit just wasn't ready to leave the human realm yet. Maybe it's the mourning of his family or maybe it's him himself knowing full too well his potential was truly wasted due to the fast departure. Whatever it was, his spirit was definitely made restless. 
The world is a cruel place where harsh actions are always sugar coated by honey like words. It's how he knew the doings of his people were wrong that made him disappointed. The practices of the people, his people, were stupid, meaningless and only harmful to the human kind. They fend off the satisfaction of their almighty even if that means that there needs to be sacrification of their loved ones, their nemesis, or them themselves. And it was his ancestors fault for starting all these practices. 
Passed down generations from generations was the curse put on the first of their bloodline by the princess he'd defied to go out and be ruthless by disregarding his duties as a husband, a father, a member of the royal courts and as a human being.
Lee Dong Wook. The root of all evil, the main reason the males of the family line faced the same wrath as him, all cursing at him but one namely enjoying his role. The pagans, dating back to the roman times era had a very, let's say, interesting method of punishing. The said lords they'd worship, the people following the religions had a strong belief that nature is sacred and that the natural cycles of birth, growth and death observed in the world around us carry profoundly spiritual meanings. Gods and goddesses of life, or say, death or anything else that exists beyond life and death, they believed in all. 
The doings of his ancestors started off innocent. Sacrifices to the lords of goodness and tranquility, a peaceful life by the towns and outskirts, forgiveness for wrong doings and of course, happiness. It's how any religious rituals would go about and all were happy until the said betrayer of the group came in with that curse of his. 'The doings of his shall be repented for all the men following shall be the one paying it,' 
At first glance when the man returned back to his royals, there were little to no suspicions of a curse being casted on him. He seemed normal to his family, his people except for the occasional forcing people to do something they despised. And it wasn't just the men of the family instead, it was all. But mostly the men, unless the same sin were to be committed by the females. Obscure behaviors have been asked to follow starting exactly at midnight to the witch's hour be it hurting your loved one, your enemy, doing sinful things, allowing self to get manipulated and mostly, shortening their own life time in the human realm. It was all unexplainable. Why was he asking people to do things like this but most of all, why are they even listening to him? 
It wasn't until they discovered that Dong Wook, for one, was never the one who returned home. On a second note, he, 'Dong Wook' mainly only targeted the men whose doings were similar to his that was fueled by the same sin that had him going. Which only remained undiscovered. The curse was unbeknownst to all still, Dong Wook himself remained undiscovered. Or proposed by the elders of the community, his body remained undiscovered while his spirit roamed restless among the people. 
The pagan romanticists are, in most cases, ignorant of the “paganism” they praise—the redeemed paganism of Christianity depicted in the transfigured water of the True Well of Life. Wrestling with the Greek gods, however, leads us to see the hyper-anthropomorphization of the gods with one intention in mind—justification of sexual lusts and displays of power over the weak.
The oldest written account of the Greek deities is from Hesiod. His Theogony, literally “birth of the gods,” charts out the genealogies of the major and minor deities in two branches. The first set of gods come into existence without sex. The second set of gods come into existence with sex; often very graphic and violent sex and they continue to have violent sex after their birth. 
As Hesiod continues to describe the birth and death of the gods and great monsters of antiquity, the chaining of Prometheus to his eternal torment is described. So too is Hades’ rape of Persephone. Battle is depicted left and right, and “a terrible din arose from their dreadful wrath, and the work of power was revealed”. Lust, sex, and war reign supreme in Hesiod’s telling of the birth of the gods. Moreover, it is from this brutality and carnality that Hesiod gives them praise—only those with enough cunning and ambition are worthy of having the praise of the muses.
That the gods birthed through sexual lust are themselves lustful was not missed by Christians of the pagan community. Though St. Augustine received the Romanized version of the Greek myths, he goes to great lengths and laborious pains—using the pagans’ own prophecies —to highlight the moral depravity of the gods in Confessions and City of God.
His sin, after all the years, was lust and the want to dominate. 
'Lust though pleasurable, innocent and vice, thee shall stay loyal to thy partner regardless of wants. To betray thy partner is to deceive thy people and hence the kingdom. Thou shall pay for thy soul shall remain wandering, driven by the desires but, shall not be able to feel the human love thou took for a grain of salt. And all who shall follow thy steps shall face the same wrath.'
Oh, how lust was a dangerous feeling. 
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29/10 continued. 11:28PM
It's how you all circled around in the living room like any other day that was comical to you. Instead of reading out your own made up story, it so happened to be the Creepypastas Yuta screenshotted for what he wanted to try out and see for himself. It wasn't even his idea to read them out. Haechan and Jaemin's 'too curious for their own sake' selves were the ones who wanted to read it out loud. "How about we sit in the order of who's gonna read out what and when?" Yangyang suggested, standing up from his seat. "Yuta read out the topics and we'll pick randomly." 
"No fun! Hold up," Haechan did some pretty exaggerated hand actions before getting up and heading to his room, well, Jaemin's room to do who knows what. "Okay? I'll get the candles!" Yangyang said, him getting out of his seat too, "And I'll go get the bible, jesus christ" and Jaemin was out of his seat too. You look at Jaemin in a funny manner, as though questioning him with your eyes if he's actually going to get a bible or not, "What? I don't want to die young, I'm too hot for that" he said, before following Haechan's steps to his bedroom, "Yikes, you aren't going to die dude" 
"Okayy, I'm back, make way bitches" Haechan dictated to which he earned a few groans and a smack on the ankle from Yuta, "Jaemin! I can't find the candles!" "It's beside the Reese's cups! Second rack inside of the refrigerator!" Jaemin says while walking back up to your tiny circle with an empyre comic in his hand and a cross pendant dangling off of his neck, "That's a bible?" you question. "Shush, do not question the power of avengers and fantastic four." Jaemin replies, holding the comic up close to his chest. You all collectively dismiss it with a concerned look directed towards the male, "Are we not going to question the fact that Jaemin keeps his candles inside the fridge?" 
"So here's what we're going to do, I've got these tiny papers which have numbers from 1 to 5,because we're five people and I've folded the paper into chits, once i toss it, we pick random sheets and the number you get is when your turn to read is, any objections?" Haechan explained, "Even if you have any, keep it to yourself because I don't care" he bites in again while juggling the folded sheets in a closed palm while the other supports his body by it being planted behind him. "Okay I'm back with the candles" Yangyang finally joins in on the circle, completing it, "You took that long to find one candle?" Yuta asks, "No i was eating the reese's cups" he replied, wiping his hand on your jean clad thighs earning him a loud whine of 'Eww that's disgusting man' and a little too far from soft smacks on his shoulder, "You piece of sh-" Jaemin starts, "Okay all, Focus!" Haechan cuts him off, ready to throw the bits onto the space between the five of you in front of the now lit candle (Thank you, Yuta), and so he tossed it a little high up from the ground, letting the paper fall of his palms and onto the floor while being cautious of not throwing it anywhere near the flame. 
"Now let's arrange ourselves according to the numbers, who's number one?" Haechan asks, Yuta raises his hands while pointing at where he's sitting, "I'm not getting up, y'all arrange yourself so that the person going second is to my right and the last person would be to my left", you all look at him nonchalantly, "What?" with a shake of your head, you proceed calling out numbers, "Number two?" Haechan shoves Yangyang back to take his place beside Yuta, "bitch." Yangyang seats himself beside Haechan, followed by Jaemin and lastly, you. 
"First, Yuta!" Jaemin slurs the elders name, receiving a death glare from his cousin. Nevertheless, Yuta cleared up his throat and switched his attention to his phone screen, "The first urban legend is from Japan, ironically." He states as a matter of fact, "It's called Aka Manto."
"Aka manto is an urban legend related to toilets—particularly those in elementary schools.-"
"Is that why you take a relatively long time inside of the bathroom? Are you, you know? Tickling pickles with Aka Mant-ow! Sorry!" Yangyang was wasted as he was tackled onto the floor by Yuta, while the rest of you cracked up, "Now let's get a little serious, come onnn!" Haechan whines. 
"This phenomenon is known all over Japan, with countless variations on the same theme. It usually takes place in a specific stall in a specific bathroom in the school. Usually it is an older or seldom used bathroom, often in a stall with an older style squat toilet.  Often the fourth stall is the cursed one, as the number four is associated with death." "I'm so glad our university has only two stalls," Jaemin chimes in, suddenly grasping the cross pendant. 
"Most stories follow this general pattern: while at school late in the evening, a student suddenly finds him or herself in desperate need of a toilet. The closest restroom available is one that is normally avoided by the students; it is older and less well-kept, separated from the rest of the school, and is rumored to be haunted. But with no time to search for a different restroom, the student enters. He or she does their business, and when they have finished, they reach for the toilet paper only to find that there is none. Then they hear a strange voice" Yuta looks up from the phone screen, "“Do you want red paper? Or blue paper?”" 
"None bitch, give me the classic white,"
With a roll of his eyes, Yuta continues, "If the student answers, Red paper, moments later, they're stabbed and sliced up violently that blood seeps out of them, painting the walls of the stall red and it soaks up into their body, making them appear red", "And if the student responds blue paper, then their blood is going to be sucked up dry, leaving them dead and blue-faced on the floor."
"But! If you try to outsmart Aka Manto, by replying to question with, i don't know, "Yellow paper" then too, dead is inevitable, you will be shoved onto the floor where the spirit is said hold your head down in the dirty toilet water until you drown and well, die" Yuta ends with a shrug of his shoulder, "Seems pretty bullshit to me" and you agree alongside, though, it could be a little creepy if the existing legend did turn out to be true. "Okay next!"
Yuta leans back a little more, pressing onto your side which you took as an invitation to lean on his shoulder. When you did so, all Yuta did was beam at you and wrap his arms around you to keep you close after handing the phone over to Haechan, "If you want me to start reading you have to give it up for me. Give me the grand welcome that i deserve" the lad said in a childish voice which again only earned him a few smacks and half hearted applauds. "So this one is apparently called, the one man hide and seek" though all narrations were being taken on a lighter note, the mood set in the room gave you enough space to picture the stories, added to that came the factor that Donghyuck knows exactly how to narrate what. 
"The "One-Man Hide and Seek", also known as the "One-Man Tag," is a ritual for contacting the dead. The spirits, which are wandering restless on the Earth, are always looking for bodies to possess. In this ritual, you will summon such a spirit, by offering it a doll instead of a human body." He lowers his voice while focusing solely on the screen.
"The warnings say that if you have any psychic abilities, you may feel unwell or be prone to accidents during the ritual." He raises his eyebrows, looking at all four of you in a curious manner. The things you need for this game seems lowkey sketch"
"One stuffed doll. It must have limbs, Rice, enough to stuff the doll full. One needle, and one crimson thread. One pair of nail clippers. One sharp-edged tool, such as a knife, glass shard, or scissors. One cup of salt water. Natural salt would be best. A bathroom, with a bathtub and some form of counter. A hiding place, preferably a room purified by incense and ofuda. There must be a TV in there." Haechan's face contorts with each requirement for the game. Letting out a defeated sigh, he hands the phone over to Yangyang, "Of all the stories i could've narrated, i got chosen for this and for what? Just to contact stupid poltergeists. Just play a ouija board and go" 
Giving Haechan a sympathetic pat on the back, he takes the device. Looking through the screen he cracks up a smile, "Alright, listen up closely. This is an Urban legend classic"
"The Slender Man-" a bunch of 'aahhs' of realization resonate through the room
"-is a supernatural creature that is described as appearing as a normal human being but he is described as being 8 feet tall and he has vectors or extra appendages that are described to be as sharp as swords. The creature is known to stalk humans and cause many disappearances. He is described as a shadow creature that has a missing face. The creature fits into many mythologies in legends from nations such as germany and celts which brings up the possibility that he could be real." Yangyang pauses to add in a little more life to his reading while all of your paid full concentration to him
"A man named victor Surge found this legend and made his own version of it which he called slender man. The slender man is not exactly evil according to mythology but victor Surge’s version shows him as an evil creature that stalks humans to kill. In mythology he was actually trying to save you from a painful death by taking you to the underworld early." he ends, placing the phone down in front of him, screen down. "Kills you to save you from a death and collectively shortens your lifespan? Seems legit to me" Jaemin chimes in while the rest of you chuckle whereas Haechan pouted at the device in front of his friend, "I should've gotten that story" 
"My turn!" 
"So, ahem-" Once the focus is all on him,Jaemin  looks down onto the device containing his part of narration. "- This is an urban legend about a girl named Daruma who was a young Japanese woman that died in the bathroom, which upon entering to take a bath, it stumbled and her forehead ended up against the edge of the tube, destroying it the brain, at the same time that her eye embedded in the tube , leaving it in consequence, one-eyed key and later , dead by bleed out."  "Oh god ouch" You hiss as though your forehead was the one that hit the edge, " Her appearance as described is apparently; black hair that is entangled, her clothes rotting and made shreds. She only has one eye. Her left eye is completely open and injected with blood." "That's gruesome," Yangyang adds, earning a nod from Jaemin who's eyes were still fixated on the screen. "And apparently there's a ritual that you can follow to summon her into your house for twenty four hours straight" At the silence, he continues. "I'll shorten it, so you have to begin it right before your bedtime, shed all your clothing and enter your bathroom, turn off all the lights and fill in your bathtub, climb into it while being seated facing faucet, close your eyes and start washing your hair while chanting "Daruma-san fell down" and keep chanting that until you're done washing your hair, and yeah don't open your eyes."
"If you did it right then you'll get this image of a japanese who'll slip and fall in front of you. Even if you hear a noise behind you, do not open your eyes, no matter what it takes, Ask out loud, 'why did you fall in the bathtub' and let that hang in the air. With your eyes still closed, get up and out of the tub and be careful not to slip and do not drain the tub. Go to your room, don't turn the lights on, shut the bathroom door closed and sleep. Wake up the next day and carry on with your day and you'll apparently feel her presence alongside you all day. She'll constantly try getting close to you, when she does, scream 'Tomare!',"
"That means stop," Yuta adds to which you all hum in understanding.
"To end the game, capture her gaze from over your shoulder and say 'Kitta' which means 'I cut you loose' while swinging your arm in a chopping motion. If you followed the procedures then you'll be rewarded but if not then, run. That's all it says here" He stops, looking a little shaken at how he created an image of it all in his mind. "They didn't say how to get rid of her if you fail following the procedure?" you ask
"No." Jaemin shrugs it off
"Alright boys, my turn"
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30th October, Friday, 10:53PM
It's probably how you read out your part of story telling, or it was how he felt the game was a little too unrealistic that had Yuta hooked onto the urban legend. 
Yuta found himself at his dorm doing a little more research on the midnight ritual. A backpack already consisting of all the elements required for the game, 'could it really be played just by one person?'. Whatever it was, he really wanted to do the game. He wanted someone to accompany him, of course. But knowing his friend group, not many would be ready to play it alongside. Doyoung was probably busy preparing his resumes for his job interviews. Johnny's all the way back in Chicago for a little family time. Ten was a little too far from your town so he'd feel bad calling him all the way over just to perform a probably demonic ritual. Donghyuck and Jaemin are out of the question, they'd obviously say no. Yangyang has a company party to attend as the heir. And you had to study for your test on Monday so he didn't really feel like disturbing you though, he did inform you that he was going out to have some fun and that you could join him anytime. Closing his laptop with a sigh, he gets up and walks over to where his bag was sprawled across the floor, picks it up and makes his way out of the studio apartment like dormitory after grabbing his car keys. 
Not like he believed it was real, it's incase if the legend turns out to be even the slightest of reality, he wasn't going to get his dormitory haunted, instead opting to perform it at the house he grew up in, his childhood house. That was left abandoned ever since they moved out months before his younger brother was born after his father had an episode still unknown to him inside the place. It was convenient enough to perform the ritual in and no one lives there anymore, and it was just a few minutes from where his house was anyways. 
Reaching the place and swinging the backpack over his shoulder, he makes his way into the surprisingly still intact house. Not much time to waste, looking around, Yuta slowly made his way up the wooden stairs, the wood creaking with each step he took to prove the existence of this house dated long back. The guest room shut lock from lack of human souls even when they used to live there. The paintings still hung off of a single screw, nostalgia hitting him straight as he recalled the one time he was playing catch with a neighbor's kid and ended up breaking the glass frame. The wallpaper's adhesive seemingly had gotten weaker from how they had started coming out from nooks and crannies of the walls. The place, without doubt, looked a little creepy but nonetheless felt homely. 
Switching on all switches from the main controller that was in the control room right by the end of the hallway, the entire darkness was replaced with light as the bulbs shockingly still seemed to function. The warm white colour of the lights took Yuta all the way back to his growing up years, missing all the fun he'd had there and all the memories he'd created. He, though grew up mostly by himself from how busy his parents were on the weekdays and sometimes the weekends, missed them more now that they live far off in Japan with his mother's family. Especially now that he was in the place they spent the most time together in. Shaking his head, he had no trouble navigating his way to his childhood room. Where he set the bag down.
He reached out to his back pocket to get out his phone, switching it on as the screen illuminated, 11:28PM, the screen read. To kill the time, Yuta set up all the items required in place to proceed the ritual smoothly. He pulled his laptop out of the backpack once he was all set to maybe watch something on the internet. It being other peoples attempt at the ritual he was about to perform.
11:55PM.
Yuta inhaled, having only a few more minutes until he had to proceed. He recalled your words,
"Alright boys, my turn" You snatch the phone out of Jaemin's hand who seemed really immersed in finding out more about the legend he just read out about, earning a pout from him. "I was reading" he let out in a whiny tone immediately going stoic after receiving a 'do i care' look from your end. "Okay, so the story I'm going to read out is called the midnight man, or the midnight game" You scroll back and forth through the pages the oldest of the group screenshotted. "From what he's gathered, there's not much backstory, but apparently it's a ritual or mostly a punishment that the pagan's use to punish the betrayer of the group who failed to stay loyal to their lords or the group. One of the people of the religion will summon the midnight man to an abandoned house where they lock up the said betrayer who'll then be put through god knows what by the midnight stranger," You stop to look up from the screen to look at each of your friends before letting out a sigh. 
"My take on this though is that it's highly impossible since the rules here state that once you start the ritual you aren't allowed the leave the place until the game is completely done unless you want the midnight man to follow you around for as long as you live, so unless the midnight man actually favored the pagans, there's no way they could punish the betrayer without one of the loyal ones passing away along with the one being punished" you state, "But what if, it's the midnight man that they preach? You know, like, they could be praying the midnight man" Haechan adds in a point which seemed to make sense, "That's possible too" 
"Why would someone preach an evil entity? That's so sketch" Jaemin asks perplexed. "They did a lot of sketchy things back in the days, Jaem. I wouldn't question it," Yuta chirps. "Is there any other backstory given about the midnight man?" Yangyang finally speaks up, "Well not really, but when i was taking screenshots of this it apparently started with a curse on someone whose identity is unknown to most. There was no such thing as the midnight game or ritual until the said bewitched man came back into town. I only know up to there, but there are high chances that he's probably the origin of the ritual." Yuta explains. "Why does Y/n get the best always, that's so unfair"  Haechan's dramatic self whines while leaning onto Yangyang who rolled his eyes but nonetheless threw his hands around the latter's shoulder, "Anyways, the procedure for the ritual is given here."
"You need one candle, a lighter or a match box or anything that ignites fire, a piece of paper, something to write with, a sharp object, it could be a pin, it just needs to be something sharp enough to draw blood, a wooden door, and salt for protection-" You read out, "Now why the fuck would they need blood," Jaemin asks, shaken up. "That's for them to know and us to find out" 
"Here's how the invitation for the midnight man goes. Begin prior to midnight," 
Yuta stood up from his bed, and walked up to the backpack on the floor, picking out the papers he'd brought along and took out a blunt pencil. 
"Write your full name- first, middle, and last- on the piece of paper with your writing implement." He wrote syllable by syllable, Nakamoto Yuta. "Prick your finger with the pin and squeeze until a drop of blood appears. Dot the blood on the paper and allow it to soak in. Turn off every light in your home." He took out the small safety pin he brought along from his jean pocket, pressing his fingers hard and pricked into the skin as hard as he could, keeping in mind to not draw too much blood. Yuta let the droplet fall right in the space between his last name and first. 
"Place the paper with your name and blood on it in front of the closed wooden door. Light the candle using the matches or lighter and place it on top of the paper. If you are using a taper, make sure it is placed in a candle holder." He walks up to the door and places down the paper with his name and blood on it, with the half melted scented candle he brought along. Yuta took out his phone once again, 11:59. "Knock on the door 22 times. The final knock must occur precisely when the clock chimes 12am. Open the door; then blow out the candle and close the door. Relight your candle immediately." He starts to knock on the door, drumming on the dusty wood, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22.
He checks the time once again, 12:00AM.
He leans down to pick the glass jar containing the candle, relighting it, 
"I welcome you."
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Taeyong loved the tiny creatures in the human realm. They were so naive and so, stupid but weirdly smart at the same time that made playing with them ten times more interesting. The callings from them, or the way they say it in the human realm, summoning the spirit was the only way he could gain access to enter the place. Summoning wasn't even necessary. Saying his name out was more than enough for him to go up to you. Midnight man, midnight stranger, midnight visitor, pagan's god, What not had the human's named him. 
The only one besides his ancestor of said curse that enjoyed the power of punishing people was Taeyong himself. The youngest of the bloodline and the freshest of pagan's spirit, he loved the power he had. Sure he had no access to love, instead besides lust and range he felt nothing, maybe amusement too, but none other than that and he seemed perfectly fine with that. Human's always seeked lust more than love either way so he found no problem in being void of feeling a vulnerable emotion. Instead, he found love pathetic. Watching human's from where he lived, he'd seen all from men and women seeking love by going to heights of trouble only to waste away your remaining life with one partner. Leeching off of pleasure at times when you had a significant other. He always got a hearty laugh from all of that. According to him, if you want someone, get them. Instead of tailing them and trying to be a goody two shoes, just make them yours in a way that's inevitable for them to fall for you. Control how they feel. Easier said than done since he was the only one with the ability to do so, 'how fucking pitiful'.
So when he saw you and your small group of friends discussing about him, laughing at all the assumptions you made along the way, he wanted each of you to himself. "My take on this though is that it's highly impossible since the rules here state that once you start the ritual you aren't allowed to the leave the place until the game is completely done unless you want the midnight man to follow you around for as long as you live, so unless the midnight man actually favored the pagans, there's no way they could punish the betrayer without one of the loyal ones passing away along with the one being punished" you're smart and that was intriguing to him. He liked the way you thought of things and the male beside you too, you both seemed to take tales of him as a grain of salt and that, besides angering him, made him feel the want to prove himself to you. Taeyong found the other three cute, seemingly scared of him just the way he liked it. 
His ancestor's who held the same power as him, the curse actually, came to be known as said lord because of their power of manipulation and to inject in their worst nightmare into their minds that had the people divide themselves into groups. One that believed the power they had was for the good and considered them to be their god, their savior. And the other being the one's scared of their power and the fear that the same faith would bestow upon them that had them pray for forgiveness for sins they never committed. So your friend had the point a little, but it was inaccurate. They believed him. Believed Taeyong and feared his power. He loved people bowing down in front of him, eyes trembling and body shivering. It gave him a sense of dictatorship. And he had set his mind to have both of you non-believers fear him. 
Having been brought up with little to no love, Taeyong followed down the same path as his great grandfather. Not having enough time to feel the vulnerable emotion, he chose to go down the path of pleasure and power play. His powers though, seemingly stronger than the past generations, probably due to the fact that he was young, ruthless and free of care. He could make himself appear physically in the human realm in any shape and form, though he always preferred to go in his original, but less scarier form. His visuals were out of the world. He didn't have to scare people to make them obey, instead all he had to do was pretend to be there and just be himself and that only made humans seem even pathetic to him. 
"Relight your candle immediately"
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12:01PM, The main event. 
"Keeping your candle in hand and your salt and matches or lighter close by, begin to move about your home. Should your candle go out, you must relight it within the next ten seconds.  If you are successful, continue moving about your home. Do not stop moving until 3:33 am. If you are unsuccessful in relighting the candle, immediately surround yourself with a circle of salt.  Remain inside the circle until 3:33 am. At 3:33 am, it is safe to stop moving or to step outside your circle of salt. You may also turn on the lights. The game Is Over."* You conclude. Hissing slightly at the sudden pain by your shoulder that was exposed from the minimalistic clothing you'd adorned, the stranger looking over it all smirked to himself. 'Got it'
Yuta opened the door again, mindful to keep his phone back in his jean pocket along with the lighter and of course, the salt be brought along. Starting from the end of the hallway, nothing seemed to change except now, the eerie silence was starting to bother him, 'Just 3 hours to go,'. He didn't miss a single corner, walking room to room, corner to corner, mindful to stay inside all the way. The temperature of certain rooms seemingly lesser than others. A cold pocket. 
"There are few warnings too," you swipe the image to go to the next one, "At 3:33 am, the Midnight Man will leave your home. After he has left, you may safely end the game. Do NOT turn on any lights during the game.  Do NOT use a flashlight during the game. Do NOT go to sleep during the game. Do NOT use a lighter instead of a candle during the game." Check. He had a lighter on him just to relight the candle anyways. 
Taeyong, following the guy seemed to be quite impressed by his bravery. Not even the slightest of shaken up as he proceeded to walk about the villa. That's good, no slip ups and he seemed too good to mess anything up either ways, and that bored the entity. Where's the fun if he just succeeded? 
To avoid the candle from going off at the sudden flickering, Yuta covered it up the best he could with his hands and checked around whether any windows were left open. Darkness engulfed the surrounding all of a sudden, the lad being taken aback, 10 seconds. He rushed to take out his lighter, 9,  pressing the button repeatedly to ignite the flame only to get a small blue flame instead, huh? 8, running back full speed happy that he was in the premises of where his backpack is, he pulled the spare lighter, a brand new one out of the side pocket, 7, repeating the same process of flicking the button over and over, 6 until a bright orange flame engulfed the dark room, 5, he immediately grabbed his candle from besides the bag, 4 reaching in close by the wick, burning himself slightly in 3-, the process. Yuta heaves out a sigh of relief, while the spirit laughs at the frantic boy. 'He's cute.'
For a breaker, he took out his phone, looking at the time that seemed to pass by quickly throughout the ritual, 2:47 AM. A little more while to go until he'd finally get it over with. "Do not attempt to provoke the Midnight Man during the game." You ended for the nth time that night, "Which idiot would-" Yangyang asks "Haechan-" Jaemin pretends to cough while blurting out his best friends name, the mentioned feigning offence while tilting his head to the side, tongue poking at the insides of his cheek. "Seems like that's pretty much it." you shrug while the older guy beside you leaning back on both of his hands, "I kinda wanna try that out" Yuta raised his eyebrows at you. "Halloween night? We all go together" you chirp in, both of you whipping your heads to look at the three perplexed boys. "Uh, I have to water my fish on halloween? She'd get pretty thirsty". Jaemin's eyes wandered about, coming up with an excuse, "And I gotta walk my rock yo, physical fitness." Haechan adds, "Can I bring my fish along? She could use some exercising". 
"Come on guys, it won't be that bad, we'll stick in a group?" You pleaded, trying your best to muster up the cutest puppy eyes. "I'm down" Yangyang shrugs. You do a tiny seal clap, looking expectedly at the other two, Yangyang and Yuta doing the same. "We stick together?" Haechan asks, to which the three of you nod your head, 
"Alright then we're down too"
[3:04AM 30th, October. ]
A few more minutes left until he'd succeed, Yuta was starting to grow tired of constantly roaming. He'd usually not the one to wear out that quickly, but for a reason unknown to him, he felt utterly sleepy, tired, hungry and just wanted to lie down. He decided to take a small break, the candle still light, dangerously flickering but yet still intact. Yuta sat by the foot of the stairs as Taeyong looked at him with the same cocky smirk on his face, contemplating whether to pop out or not. 'Maybe let's make it subtle? '
Taking up the form of a black humanoid figure, Taeyong makes his way towards Yuta whose eyes seem to be dropping low with each passing second. Upon hearing the sounds of footsteps Yuta looks up, a hand on his forehead from the sudden throbbing headache. Letting out a loud yell at the figure in front of him that disappeared almost immediately, he rushed to grab his lighter again. The sudden temperature drop made him shudder. Taking out the new lighter, he pressed the button again and again as the time limit started to exhaust, 6, at a successful fire, he reached for his candle, only for the flame to go off when it neared the candle wick. "what the fuck.." 5, "come on.." he stated in a rushed voice, sure that he just saw whatever he saw once again. Finally flicking the button one last time, he succeeded in lighting the candle. 
Contrary to popular belief, the midnight man didn't always radiate death. Sometimes he just messes around with the humans because the underworld could get a little boring. And as the curse states death and wrath is only to be faced by those who sinned and the boy playing right now seemed to be of no threat. All Taeyong wanted to do was get the guy to believe in his existence. Skeptics were like an insult to him. So if he had to prove himself and his existence on his own, then so be it. He gets some pretty good experience out of it anyways. 
Yuta stood up immediately, remembering the warning's you'd stated, "Do not stop moving until 3:33am", walking back up the stairs, he took out his phone to check the time, 3:29am. Almost. 
The same sounds of footsteps resonated from behind him, Yuta took an immediate U-turn. Going back down the stairs and roaming the empty, dark hallways, making sure to enter each and every room, keeping a mental note to thank his parents for having a slightly confusing infrastructure. The wax was almost completely out in the glass jar, but he had to hang in there for a little longer than 2 more minutes when he felt something brush his shoulder, much similar to how a friend would drape their hands over his/her friends' shoulder. He could've brushed it off as anything if it weren't for the sharp pain he felt right after the feeling of someone touching him. He's getting the proof he wants. Almost as if someone pulled his hoodie, Yuta stumbled back, letting out a shaky scream, tripping on his own foot, landing butt down onto the floor, catching a glimpse of the same humanoid figure he'd been seeing. He needs to get out of there. 
Stumbling back onto his feet, Yuta bolted it upstairs, grabbing his phone once again to check the time, 3:32am. Reaching his room, he set the candle down right beside him, vary of the windows and doors, starting to back his backpack, the sounds of rushed footsteps running start to where he is ringing through his ears, hands shakingly packing his bag. Keeping the candle closeby, contemplating whether to draw a salt circle or not since there was only less than half a minute left when the same humanoid figure neared him with fast footsteps, reaching by the door frame with a loud agonizing scream only to disappear immediately. 
Not realising the stress of tears flowing and the tresses sticking to his forehead, Yuta looked at the door frame in a perplexed yet confused manner. What the fuck was that. 
Taking out his phone once again while grabbing his backpack, laptop and the car keys in the other hand, 3:34 am. He'd made it through. After reaching the front door, not even bothering to close it, he rushed to his car, starting it before pulling up your contacts, seeing the messages he'd never sent you. 
Yuta san 1:39am: The boys said they won't make it tomorrow, it's gonna be just you and i
Y/nleE 1:43am: Why not? 
Yuta san 1:45am: Dk, they said they aren't interested. So come near xxxx tomorrow at 11:30. I'll meet you there. 
Y/nleE 1:48am: Coolsies. 
Yuta san 3:38am: Y/n don't come here, gather the boys and meet me by Haechan's dorm tomorrow. The game's no fucking joke. 
And with that he started driving away quickly to his dormitory, not once looking back at the house to see a human. Or a human like figure standing there, A bright red hair standing out due to his blood drained looking pale skin. A smirk on his face
Message not delivered. 
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31st October, 22:37PM, 2020.
Today was a weird day, 
Having all plan's set two days before, you'd make sure to keep yourself ready for whatever you and your friend group were supposed to do today. You finished up all your assignments earlier that day to keep yourself free from afternoon and on. 
The weird part was that, no matter how much you kept your phone for charge, each time you tried calling one of the guys to ask for the sudden bailing out on plan, which is a shocker because they've never done that, your phone kept switching off. You could've gone all the way to their apartment, well, dorm, but you decided to wait until later to do so. Maybe a few minutes before leaving to the place Yuta texted you so that they'd have no choice but to come along. Since your last time texting with Yuta, you hadn't heard from him. Granted, he did text you quite late at night saying he's going to do god knows what and to tell you of the sudden plan change, but you hadn't heard from him after, that being weird since he literally lives a floor below yours, he could've come any moment but nope. You kept a mental note to tell him off later. 
You took out your phone once again to check if they'd sent any messages or missed calls only to have an empty chat box, other than that of your other friends that is. Added on top of that came the constant pricking feeling on your shoulder blades from the last day you hung out with the boys. The pain would appear randomly and it would be hurtful enough to draw blood, which is weird considering the fact that you kept yourself away from all sharp objects and had a full sleeve covering the area. 
One stone, two birds. Taeyong's motto. 
After having interfered with your phone, your friends, trying to keep you away from them until you'd go through the same as your other skeptic partner, Taeyong made sure that Yuta would be sick enough after returning home to keep him from even getting up from his bed. Temporary paralysis. Your other friends, of course they tried reaching out to you, only for him to cut the service to keep you away from them for a while. They got easily distracted from you ignoring their texts as they were focused on reaching out to Yuta. 
Unknown: Hey Y/n, I'm Yuta's friend. He told me you aren't replying to his texts so asked me to do so. 
Y/n: Who's this? 
Unknown: Oh! I'm Taeyong! A close friend of well, your friend XD. 
Y/n: Nice to meet you, Taeyong. I'm Y/n but it seems like you already know that. 
Unknown: Yeah :). Yuta's on his way here and told me that you'd be joining us? Are you nearby?
Y/n: He left? No, actually, I'm just leaving my place. I guess I'll meet you there? 
Taeyong: Meet ya :)
[23:22PM, 31st October, 2020 continued. ]
Hailing a cab to the address Yuta had sent you with his friends, Taeyong's number saved on your phone in case the later won't pick up, you left your place. Still feeling a little eerie from how Yuta just decided to leave you behind when he could've just offered to go together, which is pure Yuta style. He probably wasn't in the best of moods but he could've at least texted you letting you know of his departure from the apartment building. 
The journey to the given address didn't take that long surprisingly. A little towards the outskirts of the town in a much aloof part but nonetheless, doable. It's not like you'd be alone there any ways. Paying for your fare, you took your purse, brushed your fingers through your hair to tame it a little from the ride, and turned towards the building, jumping slightly at the bright haired guy sitting by the front porch. Adorning the simplest of fit, a black knee slit jeans, with a graphic tee and a black leather jacket with a chain or two. He, in no doubts, was ethereal. His pale skin stood out the most in the street light if you could call it that and his lips seemed a little drained of blood, eyes hollow yet captivating when he looked up from the dirt below him to you who still stood yards away. Smiling, he got up, making his way towards after brushing off the invisible lint from his jeans, "Hey" he offered you his hands for you to shake upon reaching you. "Hey..? Taeyong, right?" 
Wanting so badly to smirk, he only looked down with a silent snicker, looking up immediately to not look suspicious, "Yeah, Y/n..?" you nod in response, shuddering from the coldness of his skin, "Have you been out for too long? You're freezing," you exclaim, looking at him with a guilty expression and taking a mental note to hit Yuta for not arriving earlier. "Oh no, i just reached a minute or two prior to your arrival." you nod in understanding, withdrawing your hands from his hold, "By the way, Yuta called me a few minutes ago, telling me that he wouldn't make it and to just carry on" Taeyong said, looking at you with his eyebrows raised at your confused, innocent expression, his humane form threatening to change into his original form. "What? Why? It's like,-" you look down at your wrist watch, "11:50! And he's bailing out now?", smiling at you in fake sympathy, he replied, "he said he had other things to take care of," "But you said he'd left the place and was on his way here?" you ask, hands on either sides of your hip, "Last minute plan changes" Taeyong shrugs, "Anyways, let's get inside?" 
He pointed towards the front door with both his hands, gesturing you to go forward first. And so you do. You offer him a smile before turning your back towards him and making your way towards the old house, the door seemingly open. Climbing up the stairs with caution, humming at the sound of dried leaves crunching up below your feet with each footstep. Taeyong stood behind where you two had introduced yourselves for a few minutes, a few more minutes. "Taeyong? Are you not coming?" you turn around slightly, looking over your shoulder at lad standing still, "Yeah, I'm coming" he replied soullessly, still standing his group until he saw you open the door ajar and then took his first step forward. Not bothering to go too quick. 
The insides were simple, very very simple yet magnificent. The flooring seemed to be that of wooden finishing that creaked with each step you took, implying that of how old the infrastructure must be. You look around in awe, clutching at the sling bag that you carried along. You go corner to corner, not bothering to look behind to see if the friendly stranger was hot on your trail, instead seemingly being captivated by the olden time-ish wallpapers and paintings and antique pieces that the wall adorned. Taeyong on the other hand was just growing restless, 4 more minutes until he could play his next victim, he was growing frantic. He did follow you inside, instead opting to walk the opposite direction as you, towards where he'd hidden the paper with your crimson blood and name written on it, contemplating whether to just tear it and carry on proving his existence to the female in the room. 3 more minutes, he bit into his lips, "Taeyong? Look, i found something!" He heard you scream.
Puffing out a breath of frustration, Taeyong replied "Coming!" and he walked out of the room, hands in his pocket towards where you stood by the bottom of the stairs, looking at the lighter in your hand that seemed relatively unused. "I found lighter down here" you look at him with a tiny pout evident on your lips, looking back and forth between the candle and the guy, puzzled. "It must be some thugs who came here to smoke or something" He shrugged it off, taking the lighter out of your hand. It must be you over analyzing things but without a single light turned on in the villa with only your flashlight acting as a source of light, but Taeyong looked even more lifeless than before. Eyes dark ebony and dangerous, somehow intimidating, lips adorning a bright shade of red in contrast to how you saw it the first time, and his aura had seemingly darkened. 2 more minutes. You shake your head and walk up the stairs and towards a room which has it's door wide open. Choosing to lay out your things there, you stretch out a few stiff limbs, "So, me and the boys were planning on doing the midnight game, you know. One of those stupid creepy pastas? I can't believe all of them bailed out on me last minute," you speak particularly to no one in the room, assuming that Taeyong was listening to you, whose ears only perked up at the words midnight and stupid. Midnight. 00:00Am. The devil smirked to himself. Midnight, at last. 
"I mean, Yangyang, Jaemin and Haechan came off as no shock to me- they're the other friend's by the way, but Yuta, it's weird for him to at least not let me know." You keep going, scrolling through your phone screen, only for it to load suddenly, No internet access. Sighing, you pull out offline downloads, "Did he tell you anything else? Like if he's feeling unwell or something?" you ask, letting the question float in the air, waiting for a reply. Getting known even after the passing of a few seconds, a minute too maybe, "Taeyong?" you stand up from the bed, well, the bed frame and make your way outside, "Tae?" you look left and right, searching for any moving soul when you feel your phone vibrate in your hands, and the sound of notification resonates through the eerie silence. You look down at the device in your hand, one new message from Yuta san and an immediate black out of the screen. Impossible. 
You remembered full well charging your phone to a hundred percent before leaving your dorm. Hell, you even kept it on airplane mode your whole cab ride. Shrugging it off, you keep your phone beside your bag and then proceed to go out to look for your new friend? acquaintance? You didn't even know how to classify him as yet. "Tae, if you're trying to scare me, I'll give you heads up, it doesn't work on me." you chuckle, walking to the room beside the one you were previously lounging in. "It's past midnight and we both seem too uninterested to try out whatever we were supposed to anyways, how about we just head out?" you start, looking down at your wrist watch which displayed 00:09 on the screen in neon green. "I mean, it was stupid enough that my friends and i even decided to try it out knowing it's some made up shit to scare some seven olds, probably" you continue, feeling as though you're talking to the walls at the lack of response. "Taeyong, come on. I'm growing bored." 
"Tae-" "You know, the way you logicised made it seem like you're smart enough. It was impressive," you hear his voice, a little too hoarse and plain for your liking, he continued before you could muster up a reply, "But seems like you aren't all that smart after all, seeing how you believed a total stranger and are even ready to spend time with him." you look around the place, only hearing his voice but his figure to be nowhere near you, "Taeyong, what are you talking about?" you head out of the room you currently stood in, jogging to catch his voice.
"It was a little angering you know? The way you spoke about me and my followers, it was disrespectful. And I could've taken you then and there, but what to do. You seemed too cute to take your soul without a small game? Is that what you humans call it?" You feel breathing fanning the nape of your neck and a cold air following it right after, making you turn back, "Your friend got his share of play" you whip your head forward, finally seeing the male in front of you, standing by the door frame of a connective hallway, you swore you felt his presence behind you though. His infamous smirk still adorning his features. Figure a little more towering and intimidating. If you thought he couldn't have seemed more lifeless a few minutes ago, then his appearance now only seemed to prove you wrong. "So it's only fair if you got your part of the play too, right?" 
"Taeyong, you're only making your existence weird for me, let's go if you're done." He only tilted his head in amusement, "Oh it's only about to get weirder, darling" You turn back to face a blood red shot eyed male, well, Taeyong, eliciting a gasp from you, you look over your shoulder to see the place where Taeyong stood a blink of eye ago. "How..did-" His chest visibly vibrated from the hearty laugh he let out, "How did I do that?," you step back as his voice dropped even lower, only for you to bump your back into something rigid, something cold, making you let out a yelp as Taeyong seemed to stand still in front of you, "I can do a whole lot of things," you feared turning back, the insides of your stomach hurdling around as whatever was behind you reached their arms up and held you still in a vice grip. "Y/n!" you hear a voice scream from downstairs, "Y/n! Come out! We need to get out of here!" you recognize the voice as that of your friends, Yuta's. 
You squirm hard to loosen the person's grip on your shoulder. Once succeeding, you bolt down the stairs, skipping a few steps, tripping now and then but nevertheless making it down without landing face first as you hear Taeyong's laugh thunder throughout the place. You take a turn to reach the front door, where Yuta stood in all his glory. You immediately run into his embrace, ignoring how his body seemed just as cold as the one you felt from whatever Taeyong was, "Y-yuta, he's sick, let's go, we need to go!" you try pulling Yuta's body a little closer to the exit, only for him to stand his ground, wrapping his hands around you even tighter as he caressed your hair, "Oh, Y/n.." your body goes stiff as your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, that sounded nothing like your best friend, "Yuta..?" 
You try pulling your head away from the nape of his neck to look at him, "No darling, it's 'stupid made up shit''," his body vibrated once again from the laughing against yours, as you feel yourself growing scared each passing second. You try mustering up all your strength to bring it to his sides and push him away when you feel a plush yet cold muscle press against your neck, only for it to go futile. "Still made up for you?" you feel a sharp pang of pain flow through your nerves, result of him biting the skin in a manner far too away from soft, "Taeyon-g- lord--midnight man, whatever you are.. I'm --sorry" you say in a hushed voice, scared that if you voiced out a little louder, he'd pounce at you. You feel him nibble at the soft skin, making you whimper, "Oh no, darling, do not apologize. Your doings really intoxicated me. Kept me entertained for a while." 
"But now, it's angering me to know a feeble creature as you kept poking fun at my people. At me. And I want no more than to turn you into something belonging to me. Who'd worship me the way 'my people' do." He whispered against the area, lifting his head up and leaning down, making sure not to let go of his grip on you, "oh no, pretty girls aren't supposed to cry. Tsk tsk, what is this, Y/n" His eyes bore holes onto the crown of your head. "Look at me." he acted on making you look at him faster than you could, "Could you beg for forgiveness? Give me a piece of yourself?" he inched closer to your face, a small snarl escaping his throat at your scared and trembling figure, "Or you could just be my queen and come below with me, and you'd not have to cut down your lifespan" 
"Are you turned on by all of this, Y/n? Or is it out of fear?" you let out a shaky breath as the tip of his nose touched yours, "Because i can smell you from here and oh," he let out what sounded like an animalistic growl, "Is it delicious.". "Taeyong, please let me go.. I'm sorry. I really am, just please don't hurt me,-" you let out a whine of pain when you feel his other hand knot his fingers in your locks and pull it back with much aggression, immediately planting his lips onto your trembling once, bearing his fang like teeth into plush flesh to draw out blood, earning a loud high pitched scream from your end as you try your best to push him away, futile once again. His hands tighten their grip at the waist while his other hand pulled your head further back, latching onto the firm skin of your neck, treating it with the same aggression, puncturing through the skin with his teeth as your hands go limp beside your body, nevertheless, letting out a whimper from the harsh treatment, which, in all your defense couldn't be help since you still are a human with all emotion any human would feel, that including lust. You feel his cold lips curve into a smirk against where blood flowed out, lapping it up with his tongue as you feel your vision blacken the more as time went by. 
"Oh darling you're no different than me.."
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4th November, 19:48Pm, 2020.
"She's awake!!" you blink multiple times to get accustomed to the blaring lights in the room, a comfortable white filling your eyesight. You move your head towards the side to find all your friends sprawled out on each side. A drip connected to your hands making you squint in confusion, "Can you hear us, Y/n?" you feel your shoulders being shaken as jolt, "Hey? Yeah i can hear you, why won't i be able to?" you ask, confusion still laced in your voice, "Because you hadn't responded to us the last time we called you. And because you've been laying dead the past few days" Jaemin spoke up first, earning a smack from his elder brother 
"Why didn't you stop when we screamed your name the other day, Y/n? You literally weren't breathing the day we found you" Yangyang inquired and stated, "And why did you leave us all on seen??" Haechan added, "Most of all, where were you even??" Yuta spoke. You hiss at all the questions being thrown at you as you try sitting up by the inclined hospital bed, "Screamed? Didn't respond? I left you on seen? That's highly impossible and where was i??" you stare blankly at the plain wall in front of you, trying to remember any such episode. The more you strained your head, the more clueless you grew. Your throat starts to grow dry so you turn your neck to check if there are any water bottles nearby, only for a sharp pain to flow through your nerves at a particular spot in your throat. You yelp at the sudden pain, "I'll get the doctor," Haechan rushed outside, when you reached out to touch your neck, feeling it with the tips of your finger, feeling in the swollen skin, the dried up blood when it all hit you. Your eyes grow wide as you start shaking, for it to be first noticed by Yuta, "Yuta, that house! The game, it's all real! I saw hi-him, his name! I swear he's real!" growing concerned at your sudden frenzy behavior, Yuta kneeled down beside your bed, holding your non-injected hand giving it a comforting behavior. 
"Calm down, angel. Tell me point by point," he encouraged you to take in a long breath, as Haechan rushed in along with the doctor whose face was half covered with a doctor's mask, "Doctor, he-he's probably out for me, you need to get me far away from here! Please" you beg with your eyes stinging with all the tears, "No one's going to get you from here, Ms. Y/n, you're safe here" You pause your frantic actions for a while. That voice sounded a little too familiar for your liking, making you think you're over analyzing everything again. The doctor gestured to your friends to leave you up to him to have a doctor to patient talk. All of your friends nodded in understanding, giving you one last reassuring smile before collectively leaving the room. 
The doctor, once after making sure that everyone left, removed his mask to reveal the oh so familiar smirk and the hair protector, rustling the same, familiar bright red hair with the same familiar pale fingers of his. Your eyes widen, mouth falls wide ajar
"Oh wait, there's one last warning, Do not assume that the Midnight Man has left your home for good at the conclusion of the game. I'm for real done now" You laugh at your friend who snatched the phone away from you,
"Pleasure to meet you again, darling"
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vaguely-concerned · 4 years
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X-men Evolution; the great 2021 rewatch liveblog
exactly what it says on the tin, about halfway through the show I had TOO MANY FEELINGS and had to start writing some of them out haha (gets quite gambit & rogue/gambit heavy in the latter half, Because of Who I Am as a Person)
- this is my childhood’s x-men, my formative experience with them, and I’m happy to report that still seems like a good thing. the little eleven year old within me gets to geek out and have a good time with the characters and the surprisingly good animation and writing, adult me gets to CACKLE at regular intervals at the fashion/technology/absolute bonkers hot garbage comic book nonsense they use to justify a storyline every now and then, it’s been a good time 
- I was like ‘ah well it is super dated it probably won’t be quite the same now’ and then rogue’s HAIR did the THING in the opening and ‘it’s all coming back to me now’ started playing in the background... the little baby queer in me swooning across time and space
- such a good beast, both his design and the writing, my heart aches for him all the time. he’s just so passionate! about being a teacher! helping young humans learn the stuff they’ll need in life! the most wonderful nerd man, just let good things happen for him
- I’m going to go ahead and assume that rogue’s ‘crush’ on scott is more of a deeply complex psychological process about desiring normalcy and intimacy and trying to figure out if she’s queer and dealing with her emerging sexuality and latching on to the first and best safely unavailable and nonthreatening older boy to project these issues onto rather than actually being a real thing, because I respect her so much as a person and I cannot bring myself to imagine she’s honestly attracted to a man who has POSTERS OF CARS on his bedroom wall. (I’ll give jean a break just because she seems to have a longer deeper history with him that might counteract some of that libido-kill, and also she’s a jock so lol)
like I am very sorry but can u imagine being a teenage girl with any interest in a boy with model cars in his bedroom when gambit’s swanning around being a much, much, much worse choice on almost every possible level but in a teen girl kryptonite kind of way? inconceivable  
(I drag scott quite a few times in this and it’s not because I don’t love him, it’s just his tragedy to be the most draggable man in the world)
to be fair by the time gambit shows up that whole Situation has mostly played itself out I suppose but still  
- toad’s design is so ineffably brilliant, I can’t quite tell you why but that ugly cute charm has really stuck with me, he’s one of the characters I remembered the best to this day just visually
- poor evan... he truly never had a chance, did he, they just saddled him with the most 90s teen bullshit they could come up with like he’s some kind of ‘what adult writers think teens like’ frankenstein’s monster ;______; it’s not your fault honey
- poor poor POOR storm, she gets one focus episode and they were like ‘we’re going to make an episode so racist -- ‘
I’m still STUNNED at how bad it was, but undeniably I laughed hysterically to the point that my neighbours were probably worried when that dude was earnestly like ‘He [stunningly breathlessly racist caricature of a ‘witch doctor’ guy] has stolen her powers, and he’s going to use them to take over Africa!!!’ fhajsdlfhsakjldfh oh really? tell me more, like how the fUCK this could be on television within my life time fasdlfhsdkjfhsad f  just... fahjksdfh
- it’s a testament to gambit’s appeal as a character that his charm can survive what they’ve done with his hair and beard choices in this one fajskfhs regrettable but true I still fuckn LOVE him and in my highly biased yet Correct opinion he should have been around much more. get you a man who manages to stay hot through sheer Vibes even with a bowl cut
- aw scott/jean is kind of sweet in this show even if it’s taking them forEVER to get there, I like it 
- it’s very nice of rogue to not mention magneto’s romantic daydreams and nostalgic memories about charles xavier after touching his face that one time... or maybe her brain did her a service and repressed it, there’s some stuff you shouldn’t have to know about your father figure   
- the danger room is the very definition of ‘why do we even have that lever’ and I wonder what the fuck prof x does to have enough money to replace everything that gets busted all the time
- I’d say that a lot of the writing holds up surprisingly well! (but some of it is also incredibly inexcusably racist in ways that beggar belief, so... not full marks here) the characters have distinct voices and their arcs are set up and delivered on solidly for the most part, and there’s a lot of love showing through in small moments that are just there to have a funny/interesting thing to say about the characters and how their powers work separately and in combination. listen, sometimes I get so thirsty for like. basic goddamn competency in storytelling, let me have this
- ugggggh why is there captain america in my x-men have I not suffered enough... very very funny when prof x goes ‘sounds like you knew rogers personally’ and logan is like ‘I did ;)’ *all the students ganging up on steve rogers* “did you fuck our teacher, captain america?!”
- fskadfhas WHY are you showing me hot young-ified magneto’s ass fksjahfskj charles is not even here to see it, what a tragic waste erik 
- ...I was sort of kidding before but uh I think logan genuinely did fuck captain america (or at least wishes very much that he did lol)
- wanda can have a little watching the world burn. as a treat for the way every single adult in her life has fucking failed her (’aren’t they treating you well here’ professor x she’s in a straightjacket)  
- poor rogue tho can you imagine finding out after your biggest crush on a girl yet that she’s your fucking MOM in disguise... I would break out in cold sweat every time I thought about a boob forever after
- well seems like they really just had all that homoerotic rivalry stuff between quicksilver and spyke in their first ep only to never do anything with that again ever?? I mean even without the gay undertone that seems like a dynamic you spent most of an episode setting up writers what the hell haha
- dslhfkasjlh GAMBIT THERE HE IS MY BOY IS ON THE SCENE THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!! I don’t even care about his awful hair situation or the fact that his eyes are wrong here (coloured contact lenses, maybe, for a watsonian explanation? though he’d probably have to get them made special, considering he needs the sclera and the iris covered up in different ways, I’ve seen some comic panels indicating he has been known to?)
(cute little detail: when he shuffles the cards the first time we see him he ends with removing the top card to show the ace of hearts beneath <3 foreshadowing baBEY he’s a... good-ish boy deep down. hey he tries okay shit gets complicated sometimes lol) 
- cracking UP at gambit perched cheerily on the edge of a crate dispensing cards in the middle of the battle... he’s like ‘eh it’s a livin’ sfsajkhf remy stop working for supervillains just because you had nothing to do on a thursday afternoon and they said they’d pay you
- I’m guessing magneto must have imposed a strict order of silence on these guys or something because I cannot imagine any other reason for him to shut up, especially once he notices rogue is a QTE (or, far more likely, they hadn’t settled on any voice actors for the new characters until next season haha. it is kind of odd that they’re all keeping up near monastic silence, though, even sabertooth lol) 
- WHAT an epic first meeting for us rogue/gambit fans here... first his shadow like there’s fireworks going off behind him lighting him up and then he gives her the fuckn king of hearts and she’s so enchanted by his dumb handsome face she doesn’t even notice it’s about to blow up in her hands and it all happens in heavily meaningful silence afjsdfjashjk no wonder this ship ingrained itself in my hindbrain  
yeah look smug while you can remy she’s gonna have you on your knees one day and you’ll be happy about it lol
- god storm is so COOL, everything just fading out of focus when she really gets going... give her more screen time, show!!
- mystique is every person... this person... that person... that bird... that cat... that wolf... I’m not even sure she’s not also me... are you sure she’s not you? 
- holy fuck I respect the hell out of the decision to just... blow up the entire status quo in a season ender, I only vaguely remembered that (actually in general I appreciate how good the continuity is -- buildings and places that get damaged in battles need to be repaired or rebuilt, it makes the consequences feel more real even when no one gets seriously hurt. where they get the money to restore scott’s car and logan’s motorbikes every time they go cablooie is still an open question tho lol is it credit card fraud, professor? is it telepathically acquired blackmail???) 
- I first watched this when I was nine or so, so it’s a real experience to go from my starry eyed intrigued ‘oh my god... they’re teenagers’ to my horrified adult perspective of ‘oh my god... they’re TEENAGERS D:’
that goes double for the brotherhood boys honestly, I’m here with tears in my eyes like ‘I’m sorry the system has failed you so badly you’re all just a bunch of dumb kids whose caretakers clearly fucked up spectacularly’  
like lance is always waiting for mystique to come back because she’s the closest thing he has to a safe parental figure, may we speak about how crushingly depressing that is 
- rogue is so ready to throw hands at literally any moment and for that I love and treasure her immensely (I think getting to see her be so surly and unreasonable and sometimes difficult and jealous, like any teenager, meant a lot to me as a kid who was not really allowed to be any of these things, this version of the character has stayed with me so deeply. she holds on so fiercely to her right to feel what she feels and be what she is even when it’s ‘ugly’ or unreasonable, which I think plays in really interestingly with how her powers involve getting invaded by other people’s thoughts and memories to the point of overwhelming her own sense of self and the fact that she clearly has a lot of self-loathing and self-consciousness and confusion about her identity as well. I love her so much)  
- oooof this is the ‘the gang experience a microaggression’ episode huh (well more like macroagressions really)
hits a bit different with adult eyes and perspective huh
- hearing jean sound almost like a child when she says ‘that’s so unfair!’ somehow has me like ;______; -- she has to be so adult and responsible all the time, and having her be reduced to the kid she still is and should get to be in front of this awful awful man she could squash like a bug with the flick of a thought... ugh I’m Big Sad (it is funny that jean seemingly plays Every Sport tho djfhaskj)
- MY BOY IS BACK!!! this time with the duster coat and his eyes the right colour, im so happy (too bad about the subdued colour scheme tho; I adore his dumb bright pink getup with my whole heart)
it’s kind of adorable that he takes the time to take the bullies aside and go ‘I know these guys can’t wreck you without getting expelled, but I think you’ll find no law set down by god or man would stop me from doing so whenever I wanted to. so piss off and leave them alone’ lol he’s looking out for them, in his own way
- in this episode: remy lebeau wrangles some kids while looking bored yet mildly amused the whole time. what the fuck does magneto have on you for you to agree to this level of babysitting duty buddy
- fun detail I noticed b/c when I get a fave I hyperfixate: he gave rogue the king of hearts before, but he ‘introduces’ himself to the brotherhood here (lol) with the jack of hearts, probably to symbolize he’s here as someone who works for magneto in this setting and not as his own man? it’s a demotion he’s given himself there, anyway, might be he’s not very pleased about his current position huh 
- I like it when rogue and kitty team up, they’re not very effective together but their squabbling is so cute and non-aggressive 
- pietro is what draco malfoy would be if I ever found malfoy interesting to watch for even one moment, every time quicksilver talks I’m like ‘what wonderfully insufferable thing is going to come out of your mouth this time you little shit :’)’
- a) why are scott and logan shirtless for this scene? I am not complaining on the logan side of things at least but why and b) I laughed so hard I almost fell off my couch when scott asked logan if he’d ever been in love and he was like ‘once. she was the most beautiful bike I ever saw’ falsdfhaskjfhsakjlfhasklhjfd THE BEST VERSION OF WOLVERINE EVER, ACCEPT NO SUBSTITUTES 
- mystique’s sheer dedication to being a petty bitch is kind of inspirational tbh, almost makes me want to go on a completely bonkers and extra crusade of personal revenge myself  
- oooh they’re doing some genuinely cool things with vision/lack of vision in this one (it’s the scott left on his own in the desert without glasses one btw) even visually, dang! I’m so sad this show didn’t get more seasons than it did, honestly, it deserved it
- hell yeah jean wreck her, go get your man with the suspiciously specific clothing damage normally done to female characters 
awww :’) okay yeah they’re super sweet, I love the tiny loving animation details like how he leans his head against her and her stroking his hair away from his eyes
- nooo don’t bully evan leave my t0tally r4dical sk8er boy alone :(
- I love the running joke of people fleeing in blind panic only to reveal that what they’re running from is kitty’s cheerful well meaning little face fskfaskh 
- scott and jean are already peak married after officially being together for one episode and it’s adorable, and they just stone cold threw logan under the bus, rip wolverine we hardly knew ya
fjasdlfasldfhslajdkfhsadkjlfhsdkjalfhsdakfh h jean establishing herself as the alphabitch of this relationship by throwing her man to the wolves right after dsjfhaskjfhaskjhfsakjdhfaskjhfaskdhfskjahfskdajhf get smarter or get volunteered scott 
- ...eyepatch lady is so hot ngl
oh evan went to the place hank used to go to calm down ;________; (honestly he’s kind of won a place in my heart just by being a pretty normal teenage boy haha)
- jesus fucking CHRIST can you imagine being storm having to look her sister in the eye as she tells her ‘I lost your only child, he’s *vague gesture* somewhere in the sewers we think’ this poor woman
- amanda the self admitted monster fucker you are so VALID (I love her and her family’s design so much tho!)
- it’s so cool that even in his human ‘disguise’ kurt’s fingers follow the shape of his actual hand beneath it rather than moving like a five fingered hand, it’s such a lovingly consistent little detail 
- magneto and mystique in a breathless race to see who can be the shittiest parent... tune in next week for yet another parental nadir (also some low-poly gambit appearances in this one, for those at home keeping score (me), he’s in the background looking like someone drew him with their eyes closed fakjldfhasd look how they massacred my boy)
- someone please teach the brotherhood boys about consent huh
- jean ‘soccer mom before her time’ grey and her SUV dfhakjlhds :’)
- im sobbing rogue baby girl i’m so sorryyyyyy, this voice actress is so good, my parental instincts suddenly kicked into overdrive hearing the crack in her voice :( (bb me was right tho rogue centric episodes ARE the best episodes. that tension between ‘do I identify witn this character or am I crushing on her?? both???’ now has the fun new addition of ‘oh god oh no you are a baby I want to shield you with my body from everything trying to hurt you’)
- mystique is like ‘so you see despite you telling me you never wanted to see me again I completely disrespected that and posed as a friend your age, manipulated you by offering you the mirage of direly needed emotional intimacy and belonging and added some sprinkles of homoerotic tension to it just to massively worsen your already existing grievous psychosexual trauma and identity issues... out of love’
god go jump in a black hole you fucking monster 
- there’s some very interesting and quite subtle subtext about the people she’s morphing into and what that says about her mental state/how it shows off some of her emotional baggage with the rest of the team. it’s like she’s switching between people/powers that fit the purpose as if she’s going through cycles of fight/flight (and then bursts of freeze where she’s herself, which is... so sad)
- this whole episode is hurting my heart but rogue at full power is undeniably epic  
 - ‘professor x get your goddamn act together and get this poor girl some fucking tHERAPY’ challenge
- SAFE PAPA LOGAN ;_____;
- EYYYYYY opening straight on My Lad, I cannot stop winning!!!!! 
fasdfhsad disintegrating the window with a smiley face... remy I do love you more than my heart can bear honestly, hello may we speak about the fact that his urge to be a little shit is so deep and strong it survives mind control (that little breathed out ‘hiah!’ as he vaults the fence too dsakfjsd)
hahaha and he does up the coat fhsalfdsaj 
- magneto dismissing other telepaths like ‘puh-lease, your Meaningful Looks have got nothing on my ex-husband’s’ 
- :’) rogue and kurt sibling timeees
- say what you want but this pyro guy’s got job satisfaction in being a creepy arsonist with a weird recurring horse theme (well at least twice but still weird)
- I love how beast is the kindest man to ever walk the earth but also straight up savage, this man drags people so hard their ancestors wince in their graves
- gambit taking the time to complete the guard’s game of solitaire -- this episode is giving me everything I want. u little disgrace mr lebeau
and THEN he takes the spider out in the most hilariously bonkers way my heart is so FULL
(I love that when magneto moves by he looks startled and has to quickly move his head out of the way to avoid getting kicked in the temple too that’s a fun detail)
I’m so INTO how this sequence shows off that his greatest strength isn’t even his powers (which are pretty straightforward, really, he makes go boom, longer time and bigger thing bigger boom) but that he’s clever and creative and always extremely ready to be the most harebrained-bananapants-extra-in-a-deceptively-laidback-sort-of-way person in the room (I actually have some genuinely Deep Thoughts about how his whole character does a really interesting thing with having the straightforwardly destructive nature of his powers yield to what his nature as a person is, and how using the playing cards play (heh) into it, maybe I’ll write it out some day. just the fact that he could use anything, but he deliberately chose something that adds style and playfulness and corny charm to it and that also limits the damage of the explosions compared to if he habitually used something with more mass... I find it fascinating how much he’s made a story around himself with it and how deeply it shows he does have a good heart, at the end of the day, in almost a metatextual way. he doesn’t want to destroy things or people, he’s at worst (and best lol) a thief.)
- I honestly have literally no memory of white nick fury (which seems so weird now isn’t it funny) in this series from when I was a kid, he clearly did not make an impression on me lol
- mr wolverine ‘assigned canadian at birth’ x-men 
- oh man I dig the androgynity of x-23′s outfit (even tho they had to compensate with the long hair, which... kind of doesn’t make sense in-universe but does on a design level because it’s a crucial thing that she’s a female clone of logan so yeah okay fine whatever have your arbitrary gender markers if you must haha)
ooooooh that’s actually really clever, they make her gender gradually more obvious as she unravels through the episode and her outfit changes -- first the mask coming off, and then her jacket opening to show her silhouette more clearly, that’s cool!  
- my god what really sets this show apart is how much it invests in little character and relationship moments, it’s just so fucking GOOD! it gives laura looking in on those moments such depth and weight because it’s new to her but established to us as an audience, this is how you make found family devastating people (storm growing bonsai trees is so charming too haha) 
- ooof this is honestly quite harrowing 
SHE’S SO SMALL COMPARED TO HIM I’M CRYING (at least that part of his genes translated over faslkfsjdh short king, I say this with all the love and support of a fellow short monarch)  
- tabitha seems to just be running around doing precisely whatever the fuck she wants and you know what I support her even if she is an asshole her father left her a bunch of trauma and no fucks left to give 
- still thrilled about professor x explaining the spider key fuckup to magneto after the fact like ‘magnus you dumb bitch this is why we split up’ 
- awww kitty has anime and movie posters on her wall and sleeps with a stuffed toy :’)
-          remy                           rogue
                              🤝
doing completely unnecessary parkour around the brotherhood living room seemingly just for the hell of it... I’m not saying soulmates but fucking soulmates 
- fhsadkjlfhsakjldfhsadjkfhsdajkfh just as gambit’s soul-level need to be a little shit survived his bout of mind control, rogue’s deep and urgent desire to kiss gambit full on the mouth survived hers I can’t breathe
she looks so pleased with herself too GOOD FOR YOU GIRL at least get something out of this other than more trauma 
also not only the fact that he’s smart enough to figure out what’s going on (though he’s only partially right about who’s behind it. I do so enjoy gambit/mystique deep and sincere antipathy as a constant across all universes tho lmao pure wlw/mlm hostility) but also that he keeps fending her off like he’s not trying to hurt her even though she’s in nigh on unstoppable and invulnerable terminator mode... awww 
- gambit having absolutely no patience for wolverine and sabertooth’s bullshit macho-off and consistently being this little biker trio’s one brain cell is adding years to my life with every passing moment
his voice is a little different in these scenes too, a bit softer and less like he’s trying to impress someone, it’s nice
- hank: well I barely recognize any of these (completely made up) ‘ancient egyptian hieroglyphs’ but from what I can make out -- *proceeds to infodump a perfect coherent narrative* fjdhfak  
listen this whole thing is such nonsense on so many levels, I’m just turning my brain off so I won’t have to think about it okay, the compulsion to put ancient aliens in egypt haunts us as a culture 
- I am CACKLING about gambit in the snow after having to listen to these two chucklefucks ooze testosterone at each other for hours
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he started out taking it in good cheer and is now reduced to ‘dieu would both of you just jump off this fUCKING mountain please’
- ah. a little oops-a-daisy there, we seem to have unleashed the apocalypse. please stand by (they really don’t pull their punches with the season cliffhangers in this show haha)
- opening the season on gambit’s merrily grinning face is the easiest way to gain my favour. yes good this season may commence 
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baby u r my
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 ANGELLLLLLLL
(he’s so cute here tho haha I think it shows the design isn’t unsalvagable, just get him better hair and stubble more like logan has and you’ve basically got it) 
love his exasperated eyeroll when the dude gets spooked (by his eyes? or just the general weirdness?) too
he’s just trying to keep this crazy family of evil mutants together and unmurdered by one another until they’ve managed to avert the end of the world, bless him  
- oh NO rogue’s LIP wobbles my hhhhhheart ;____; such a good animation detail to put in
- like... I know kurt is just a sad scared teenager with a lot of shit going on and all the adults are too busy averting the end of the world to help him... but buddy maybe don’t ask your sister to wake her abuser (who forced her to kickstart the end of the world!!!!!) when she feels utterly unsafe even with her statue version around huh
- ...wanda is good and I want only good things for her. and for her dad to be disemboweled for what he did to her both the first time around and when he forced her to forget I mean what 
- magneto throwing an epic satelite-slinging tantrum b/c ‘no I am the biggest sexiest strongest mutant of the pack :(’... erik fucking get over yourself 
- yes boys absolutely go along with a plan suggested by a dude who looks at you like this 
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nothing bad can come of this surely asdfkhsa
- lance’s quarter of a braincell always trying to go ‘hey wait, maybe... not do this???’ and it never helps lol
- in this episode: Logan Has A Bad Day 
...some very specific bondage positions he’s held in here, I am sure this episode awakened something in someone once upon a time lol 
- logan shielding x-23 with his body... im fine it’s okay I’m not crying don’t look at me
- afsdhlsdfjasdlk those sure are some ‘scottish’ accents flsadkjhkdsjahfsd
- scott relieved to finally be able to cede the position of ‘charles xavier’s least favourite son’ to someone else fjsaklfhsajd (poor scott it’s not your fault honey)
supremely cowardly to suggest there is an ex-wife involved rather than charles slutting his way around the british isles back in the day but okay
- kurt with a cold is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. it’s okay kid it’ll get better soon
- ...is there an implication here that professor x is naturally blond. because I am losing my entire little mind about it (i mean he at least has to carry the gene, as does this lady?)
ETA: upon doing some research into this I can indeed confirm that charles xavier does seem to be naturally blond, and after this knowledge I will never be the same 
- “listen, dracula” fskdafghasd oh scott you sweet baby angel I love you
- I know jean’s abilities are a bit ‘as strong or as weak as the plot needs right now’ at this point (so you can have the setup for what’s going to happen with them eventually and she’s basically invincible ;____;), and normally I’m cool with it but god I want her to just squash lucas like a little bug
- ewwwww please don’t ever say ‘daddy’ like that again
- ...what the fuck is even going on this episode’s a mess 
like okay the split personality thing could be something but the way it’s done... what just happened lol
- MY BOY EVAN IS BACK! with a real glowup too (...though kind of weird how he suddenly looks like a grown man)
- augh scott’s eyes are so pretty oh my god ;__________________________;
- that episode in the first season where evan makes the ‘this is my new family!!’ video is so sad now (also, again, his poor poor parents) 
- time for: life affirming road trip with gambit (involuntary) faskljdfhaskjd
stunt therapist remy lebeau 
- I mean the way he goes about it is batshit insane and it’s very much secondary to what he’s actually up to but this is the first time rogue’s sounded genuinely hopeful and confident and like herself in like a season <3 
- he is disconcertingly pleased about her nearly throwing him off the train, and may I just say I agree it’s so nice to see rogue with her old fire back 
- the first time I watched this it was of course dubbed into norwegian, so I had no idea either of these characters were southern lol (though to be fair I probably wouldn’t have had much context for what it meant exactly either, I was like ten at the time and not too interested in america) I seem to dimly remember the norwegian voice actor did a little more of a ‘french’-tinged accent for gambit all over tho haha  
- you know what respect where it’s due, pyro dude knows to live his life for the lols and one has to admire his sociopathic dedication to it
interesting that he, too, seems to have fucking hated magneto -- I wonder if the implication here is that he kept all the acolytes in line with blackmail or by keeping something/one hostage? (except sabertooth maybe he’d just have to say ‘you get to fuck shit up and fight wolverine’ and that’d be enough)
- fsdakfhsd he’s so focused on her he doesn’t notice that guy about to hit him fkafhsa 
- fuck everything else except whatever the hell these two’ve got going on
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- it’s weirdly cathartic to have rogue have a conversation with someone who was not happily adopted as well, I don’t think kurt like. gets it because his parents loved him unconditionally and still do 
birds of a feather motherfucker  
- fun detail: when the x-men team are on the shore and logan is sniffing around scott is stepping in something and trying to wipe it off his boots in the background
- when he wakes up after passing out from the touch he’s smiling even though she’s standing over him looking like the rage of god outlined by the moon fsajfsa well the last time he passed out like that it was from a kiss, maybe he still has some hopes and dreams in that direction lol (also he recovers from the tumble down the hill first and is checking on her before accidentally brushing her cheek with his hand, which I thought was sweet) 
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and it was in that moment he knew he fucked up *passes out*
- ‘I can explain’ can u remy. can u  
- did it ever even occur to you to just. ask her. to help you. I mean I know it didn’t but like rogue’s always one second away from throwing hands with some bully and is stupidly ride or die, if you’d given her the puppydog eyes she would have crumbled immediately (fair enough I guess this entire episode is telling us he’s not from a background where he has much experience with people just helping him without a price haha) 
- his eyes glowing when he’s angry or upset or using a lot of his power is undeniably cool as all hell. I’m just saying it would be Big Sexy if they sort of flickered with light in moments of genuine vulnerability okay  
- his coat... his coat is what makes the Silhouette tm and I could not be happier about it 
- another parent of the year contestant enters the running lol “hey remy have you ever considered that you’re more of a walking bomb factory than a person? that’s certainly how I think of you hahaha c’mon kid let’s go” 
- the running joke of jean luc getting dollar signs in his eyes seeing the other mutant powers and gambit being like ‘nO!!!!’ and pulling him along is amazing haha
- from the way he looks when he touches rogue accidentally and the way he talks to his dad I’m sort of getting the feeling this gambit might actually be a bit younger than he looks?
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here too -- idk why but it’s making the ‘wait is he baby???’ alarms go off in my head haha. very early twenties at most. 
- and we’ve officially seen him with all the face cards in the heart suit folks! (yes this is the sort of thing my brain notices no I don’t know either)
- poor logan running his ass off this whole episode in a panic and then she’s like ‘nah he’s fine (in several meanings of the word ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ) please put him down’ hfaskfsda
- rogue without makeup!!! her eyes look so naked like this haha <3
- oooh here’s a really interesting thing that tickles my brain a bit in this specific part of the scene where gambit frees his dad -- the part where he’s leaning against the door frame waiting for jean luc, who’s about to suggest using the opportunity to ruin the rival gang from the inside rather than slipping away while they still can
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from his expression here he knows what’s about to happen, what jean luc is about to say, and it’s clearly a ‘man who thought he’d lost all hope loses last additional bit of hope he didn’t even know he still had’ sort of situation. he KNOWS what jean luc is like, and it still hurts that he really, honestly can’t give him even this, can’t appreciate that remy’s already done all this shit for him when he extremely didn’t have to, without immediately (no really, it took him less than ten seconds to go there? jesus) demanding more.  
remy tells him “I’m just here for you” and jean luc does not understand it. remy seems to be sincere in this motivation -- rogue certainly thinks so, having experienced it second hand and found enough at least emotional merit in it to decide he was worth saving even after all his bullshit (lol a bit of a running theme maybe. I think it’s very telling that after she absorbed mystique she was like ‘what the FUCK you’re a fucking monster’, and after she absorbed gambit she went ‘you did the wrong thing for the right reasons’ after she got over the first wave of outrage) 
there’s also what he says as he stands there: “You don’t need me for that”, with the distinct implication that jean luc would only keep him around because he has a use for him and for no other reason -- and then jean luc shamelessly doubles down on that by specifying that it’s not even him he’s got a use for as such, just his powers. that’s some kicking puppies level of deliberately missing the point, it’s almost impressive in how cheerfully mean it is haha
this idea of using people is really important in this episode because remy’s doing basically exactly the same thing to rogue to begin with; it doesn’t really matter to his plan that it’s her that’s with him through this, just what her powers are. (I think it’s  p r e t t y  solidly implied that he does actually like her a lot outside of that too and maybe there is some comfort in having her around for this, but mostly he’s behind a smokescreen of lies through the whole thing sooo I doubt he’s even aware of it, honestly)     
but then it does matter that it’s her when she comes back for him, even after what he did. and unlike jean luc he understands what that means, that she did that for him, and that she didn’t have to. and instead of asking her for more, in return he gives her the thing it’s been established is what he considers the most valuable thing he has; his ‘last card’, the thing he’s credited with keeping him alive many a time, basically. it’s gone from using to mutuality, a tentative place of friendship, and at the end of the day he is a different man than his adoptive father, with a capacity for selflessness and love he lacks. which is of course some of the same stuff going on with rogue and mystique too, except rogue acted from a more fragile and unstable place and did something she regrets, or at least has a LOT of doubts about now, and she found some catharsis in helping someone make a different choice in a similar situation. man there’s some Stuff going on under the surface here haha
(by the way it’s a weirdly... meaningless yet intensely meaningful thing, the gifting of a symbol? of an idea? but he’s putting something very crucial of himself into her hands, is the subtext, and he expects her to understand, which she also does seem to do. at the beginning of the episode he’s proving that he’s seen something true about her -- “You’re such an unhappy girl”, knowing where she comes from, the way she’s mourning her lost confidence and autonomy with her abilities -- and here she’s proving she’s seen something true about him. :’) I wish this show had gone on long enough for this dynamic to progress, it’s really interesting and touching)   
- gambit dragging himself up onto dry land seeing someone approaching (to help?!): :D
gambit seeing that it’s logan and the look on his face: D: 
- rogue using her powers so confidently and fearlessly in this episode tho!!!! 
- *me crying* and then her FAMBILY comes to take her home and he says he’s looking out for her too and kurt still loves her even though they’re having a conflict thing between them and she’s finally able to use her powers without so much fear again and --
- ...did I just watch some baby lesbian love at first sight shit right now???  
- okay last two episodes let’s go
- HELL YEAH STORM (I love that she’s like ‘don’t give me a dumb order like that and I won’t have to disobey it’ too sdfjsaj) her voice has such command I’m usually very much not the ‘step on me’ type butttt
- y’know I feel like apocalypse’s main fault across all versions I’ve seen of him is that he’s like an immortal superpowered god king and he’s not even sexy. like at least make him hot if he’s going to be insufferable in every other way 
- also callout post for apocalypse: one time he made gambit into the Horseman of Death... and didn’t even make him sexy!!! you were handed remy lebeau, supreme bi disaster slut of the x men universe, and you couldn’t even make his brainwashed superpowered evil side hot?? a beautiful stubbled twunk with glowing red eyes and extremely charming :> face practically delivers himself into your hands and you do that to him???? I mean I’m sure apocalypse did some other bad stuff too but that was the worst one
(comics are so dumb y’all) 
- having to watch jean cry is emotional terrorism!! ;___; she has such older sister/mom energy, whenever she gets sad and helpless it hurts 
- oh, OH so PROFESSOR X you’ll make into a hunk and ~*strategically*~ rip his clothes to show off a nipple and a flawless pec in a way that makes me extremely uncomfortable because he’s like The Dad??? apocalypse you are rotten to the core this is unforgivable 
- so wait wanda never actually gets her real memories back. what the FuCk I hope that was a dropped storyline because they ended the show tragically prematurely rather than like. the plan
- why is spyke calling storm ‘storm’ show that’s his auntie o!! >:(
- as a society we need to acknowledge that apocalypse looks like a fucking clown
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- ooooh yeah I have been thinking that this show’s greatest visual weakness so far has been not having a visual way to show telepathy/battles of the minds, but this is a pretty cool way to do it! better late than never
- I’m so happy rogue gets to end this herself, since she was forced into starting it against her will, it’s just nice and neat storytelling
- YEAH FUCKING TELL HER KURT AND ROGUE I AM SO PROUD OF YOU and she has the temerity to look pissed off oh my god
the only valid thing mystique has done in her entire life is be in love with destiny. literally everything else she gets up to is a travesty. like I know objectively she’s hot but my loathing for her stops me from even appreciating it. I do enjoy loathing her tho so please don’t change her haha
(a bit odd to have kurt’s attitude to her swing so much but I’m just going to assume he and rogue had a good long conversation after ‘cajun spice’ and that he understands what’s going on better now)
- this last part is such a cruel tease faskdfhsdaj ‘here are all the cool-ass things we had planned. sucks you never get to see it huh’ im devastated 
- magneto without his helmet and playing charmingly with children like charles is going ‘well at least I saved my marriage finally’ fsadkhfjsd (honestly tho I would be super interested in seeing how they’d redeem this magneto because he’s been a real bitch the whole time lol) 
there’s an interesting thing here where magneto looks down at wanda as the last thing he does on screen before this epilogue part (yeah I hope it fucking haunts you forever what you did to her erik you absolute piece of hot garbage) and the last thing charles does is look at jean b/c he knows what’s going to happen to her and it breaks his heart... Dramatic Parallells  
- just the hint of jean as the phoenix has me in full D:D:D: mode tho maybe I wouldn’t have survived it
- gambit in the last groupshot with his arm around rogue ;^) I mean I’m sure they’re headed for some turns and roundabouts along the way but what’s that thing she says as her wedding vow, that she’ll always find her way back? anyway that got me in my heart
- man I really wish this show had been given more seasons, we were barely even getting warmed up here :’(
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destielhasmedead · 3 years
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this is the first part to a story i started - thoughts?
It had been two hours in the Impala for Cas to suddenly crack, he cleared his throat,
“Uh, Sam.”
“Yeah?” Sam turned around to see the angel. Cas made a head-nodding motion towards Dean and pointed to his ears.
“What y’all playing charades now? What is it Cas?” Dean laughed and took his eyes off the road for a minute to look at the two passengers,
“What…..”
“Dude, we’ve been listening to the same song for the past hour, and the same album for the past two, even Metallica isn’t that good,” Sam said.
“You watch your mouth Sammy, I'm the one driving here!” 
“Dean, I do too thoroughly enjoy the melody, but perhaps we could hear something else?” Cas piped in from the backseat nervously. Dean moved his attention to the rearview mirror, took a good look at Castiel, then back to his brother, and with a deep sigh begrudgingly agreed. Sam grabbed something from his feet,
“An aux cord? You have to be kidding me”.
“Dean, unlike you I enjoy living in the 21st century. You should try it, upgrade from your cassette tapes.” Sam scoffed, but let out a soft chuckle. 
“Fine let’s see what garbage you listen to.” Said Dean annoyed and skeptical. Cas moved eagerly towards the space between the two front seats to get a good look at all the commotion. Sam plugged the wire into his cell and proceeded to scroll through till he found the playlist he was looking for.
Sam had always been a soft rock, jazz, and even pop kind of guy. Though, he was sure to always have a playlist that wouldn’t get him kicked out onto the side of the road. Soon, Lodi by Creedence Clearwater Revival came on through the speakers. Dean's face fell flat but remained silent. They were on their way to the beach, so Sam knew he had some leeway and extra room to play with, and Dean was fully aware of the opportunities Sam had. It had been years, decades even since they had a proper visit to the beach. The only times they’ve been there was on a case. Sure, when the boys were younger John had let them stay a couple of days afterward from time to time, but even then it was stress-filled and tense. 
A few songs in, Cas reached, sitting up higher, and pointed out the sign that read of the hotel they had booked. Cas had all the windows of the Impala opened, his hair flopped about as the salty air flowed around him. The hotel was located on a quiet street, just a short walk from the shore. It was nicer than the places they typically stayed at. 
Sam helped his brother find a parking spot, and closed the doors almost simultaneously. Sam stayed back for a minute grabbing their bags, while Dean and Cas ventured inside. It was quaint, a typical beach hotel. Whiffs of sunblock, the squeaking of damp flip flops, bright lights, and inspirational signs filled their senses. 
“Hi, we have three rooms booked.” Dean leaned on the counter and put down a credit card that wasn’t his.
“I see only two on the reservation list..” the clerk said clicking on his computer. Dean looked at Cas nervously, searching for a response to give to the man. Sam strolled in with their bags.
“What’s going on?” Sam butted in on the conversation.
“You only booked two rooms,” Dean said, glaring at his brother. Sam shrugged and turned back to the desk for answers.
“I’m sorry there’s nothing I can do, there aren’t any extra rooms” 
“We could stay somewhere else..” Sam started to say but was interrupted.
“No! The reviews said this joint has great water pressure in the shower and I’m not giving that up!” Dean exclaimed passionately. Suddenly Cas cleared his throat,
“Well, I could um share a room with Dean. I don’t sleep anyway.” Cas’s face grew flushed and he shifted his weight on his feet. 
“Ok, that works for me. I’m sick of sharing with you anyway, you snore real loudly.” Sam commented about Dean. Though Dean didn’t respond. His eyes had glazed over, staring at the wall deep in thought. He felt his heart in his throat as if he had been chasing a vamp. He gulped it down and felt a soft palm on his shoulder that pulled him away from his thoughts. 
“Are you ok?” Cas looked him in the eyes.
“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine just thinking” Dean gave him a smile, and Cas’s head straightened once again out of its tilt. Both of the men were visibly flustered from the string of events that just occurred. Sam cleared his throat,
“Ok, wanna find our rooms and get some rest, I for one would appreciate getting more than four hours of sleep for once in my life.” The guys nodded, now aware of the time. Dean bunched up his sleeves till they reached his elbows, and looked at his watch. It was eleven pm, which in hindsight made sense since they had arrived when the sky was darkening. 
They started towards the elevator and to the 4th floor. Dean had been iffy about not getting their usual spot in the corner on the base level. But Sam just poked fun at him saying,
“Dude quit overreacting, we aren’t on a hunt, and we’ve saved the world like 12 times. We can survive two nights in a room that doesn’t look at a parking lot.” But Dean had just rolled his eyes. Soon, he found himself following Cas into their room, and Sam walked down the other end of the hallway to his.
“Have fun you two!” Sam teased. The new roommates' faces reddened. Cas swiped the key card over the black square and pushed the door open.
“You have to be kidding me,” Dean said under his breath, yet still audible for Cas to hear. He tossed his duffel bag a few feet away from him and rubbed his hands through his hair until his nails dug into his neck. Before them, they saw a couch, a TV, other typical Hotel amenities (bathroom, mini-fridge), and one queen-sized bed. But, looking back on it, the man at the front desk hadn’t said there would be a second bed in that room. 
“Dean, I don’t sleep much anyway, you have the bed and I can hang out on the couch.”
“You sure Cas?”, Cas nodded. Dean felt his eyes getting heavy, he tugged at his duffel and got out his Men Of Letters robe, Led Zeppelin T-Shirt, and his hotdog pajama pants. Meanwhile, Cas had found the TV remote and started channel surfing. He paused it on a show called Lucifer, which he had found very amusing. Dean walked back in to find Cas hunched over in front of the screen pointing at the different characters and saying how inaccurate they are.
“You having fun over there?” Dean said through a smirk as he drew the blanket toward him.
“Though it’s ridiculous, it’s also very comical!” Cas nodded to himself with a smile, maintaining his focus. 
“Alright, well you two have fun, just turn the volume down a bit so I can sleep? We’ll come up with a plan for tomorrow in the morning.” Dean kindly shook his head.
“Alright goodnight, Dean.”
“Night, Buddy.”
--------
chapt 2 (not completed?)
It’s 9 am and Dean awakes to Castiel pulling the curtains open, letting the effulgent sunlight bounce around the room, filling Dean’s face with the brightness. He cups his hands by his eyebrows, grabbing at the covers while doing so. Once Dean’s eyes stopped ping-ponging and the static washed over, he grumbled “good mornin.'' and tossed around the clothes in his bag till he found what he called his “summer flannel” and shorts. Cas moved out from by the windows and shuffled over to Dean’s ill-made bed and began to meticulously tidy it up. 
“Alright, you ready? Sam’s meeting us downstairs for bacon. Well, he’ll probably have some fancy-schmancy healthy smoothie, but I’m having bacon.” Cas turned towards the bathroom doorway where Dean was still a few feet away from, nodded to Dean in agreement, and walked towards their room’s door.
“Wow wow wow there champ, you’re wearing that?” Dean held out his hand in a stop motion, running over to block the door from him.
“Y- Yes?” Cas replied, unsure of the question.
“Okay, I know it’s your outfit and stuff, but it's the beach! it’s hot outside!”
“But, you’re wearing your summer flannel, and this is all I have.” Cas gestured to Dean’s extra layer and then proceeded to look down at his overcoat.
“Well, that’s different.” Dean said, slightly defensive, and followed up with “We’ll ask Sam downstairs, but I for one am starving”. Dean swiveled, now facing the door holding onto the round silver knob, letting Cas walk through first.
Once the two arrive in the food court, they find Sam already set up with, as his brother had predicted, a bottled smoothie and eggs.
“Hey! Bacon’s over there, Dean.” Sam’s head tilted in the direction of the food. There were lifted metal container-looking platters lined up each with lids to keep what was inside warm. Excitedly, he grabbed a plate and piled on his food.
Castiel joined Sam at the circular table.
“So, how was last night?” Sam asked, showing genuine curiosity.
“It was fine. I did what Dean refers to as channel surfing, and I read all of the brochures on the table.”
“Oh yeah? Find anything interesting?”
“Not particularly, I saw a couple of different restaurants, there is an ice cream place down the street though.” Yes, Cas didn’t need to eat, but recently Rowena cast a spell for him so that he could at least taste it without feeling every single molecule. He hadn’t gotten around to trying Ice Cream yet though, he was still getting used to the sensations.
“What’d I miss? Oh, Sam! Cas refuses to change his clothes. The son of a bitch wouldn’t listen to me.” He had put emphasis on the word “refuses” to get his point across. Cas rolled his eyes at him, recalling the interaction and being fully aware that there hadn’t been anything he would refer to as a refusal.
“Cas only ever wears that trench coat though. And you on the other hand,” Sam turned to Dean,
“Are wearing your summer flannel which by the way does not exist.” Sam lightly laughed as Dean bites dramatically into his bacon.
“Well, this is a vacation, remember? So, if I even see your asses walking to the beach without wearing bathing suits, or at least not long sleeves, I swear I will shoot you.” He waved his fork in the air as he spoke. The men in question, who had been sitting next to each other, locked eyes. The two, without talking seemed to come to the consensus that Sam would in fact shoot them in the leg. Sam himself had been wearing dark purple swim trunks and a T-shirt. Having spent part of the night reading about the town, Cas mentioned a nearby store for him and Dean to walk down to. 
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amerrierworld · 4 years
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Babysitter (pt 9)
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Thor (Ragnarok) - fanfiction
Pt 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 
Summary: A Loki interlude.
Characters: Hela, Loki
Word Count: 2,111
Warnings: Idk, swearing?
Loki was incredibly annoyed at the current situation. 
He’d woken up on a random, clunky spaceship with a pounding head and a bruised neck. He remembered the world going blank and being quite certain that he’d been dead until, frustratingly so, his lungs gasped for the most painful breath he’d ever taken. 
A janky pirate ship had snatched him from floating in space amongst the debris, stripped him of his armour -no doubt to sell or melt down into other knick knacks- and left him in the back amongst the cargo. They’d presumed he was dead, so when he had woken up, they had a bit of a shock. 
Not a word was comprehensible, Loki couldn't understand whatever gibberish language they spoke, so he ignored them and shuffled to their food supply. That got him a whack on his back from a whip and a kick to the back of the knees. 
Trying to take back his armour also earned him a few bruises. They didn’t seem very dangerous, but quite a nuisance. 
Amongst the cargo he found familiar debris that struck an icy chord inside Loki. There were piles of Asgardian clothing- ripped and filthy, but Asgardian nonetheless. Bags with very few belongings, and metal scraps of the ship they had been on. 
It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the remainder of the ship of refugees was probably lost. When the pirates began to beat him again for rummaging through their stuff, a rusty old pipe amongst the stolen goods helped quiet them down immensely. 
With his kidnappers knocked out, Loki scarfed down what measly rations they had and set course for Earth at light speed -well, the closest speed they got to light speed which was more like a quick paced jog. 
He tied up the crew and tossed them in the back, and lounged in the cockpit as the ship traveled on autopilot, picking scraps of food from between his teeth. 
Communications on this ship were absolute garbage, he concluded. There was barely any signal and he couldn’t figure out where the closest planet was. So, he took a nap, ate some more food, and tried not to think too much about the harrowing experience of Thanos choking him to death.
Hours later, they entered a very familiar atmosphere. Loki let the ship crash-land, grabbed a bag of few supplies and hopped out just before they hit the ground. 
He marched on through the thicket of trees where they landed. Angry shouts that were no doubt curse words echoed from the smoking ship as he left them behind and tried to gather his bearings. 
An old cabin was the first building he saw. With a rusty dagger at the ready, he inspected the home around the back, looking for a vehicle he could take, something to get him moving faster than his legs, when suddenly a high pitched shriek nearly shattered his eardrums.
A young girl, no older than six, was staring at him with big brown eyes. Rain boots covered in mud, an aged stuffy in her hands. Loki put his finger to his lips, dreading that he was going to have to kill the girl before she gave him away or screamed bloody murder. 
“Daddy! There’s an Avenger in the yard!” she sped off towards a shed, where there was a light on inside. Loki’s shoulders slumped in disappointment. Whatever outcome he was expecting, this was by far the worst. 
“I’m not- fuck.”
He shoved the dagger away and out of sight and stomped towards the shed, fuming with annoyance. He was about to go off at the man for letting his daughter talk to random strangers and how he certainly was not an Avenger, but the man in question had a large saw in hand and about 200 pounds of muscle to carry, so he snapped his mouth shut. 
“Oh, hello there,” he said, his daughter bouncing about the workshop. “What brings one of you all the way out here?”
“And where exactly is out here?” Loki asked.
“Canada! What, you superheroes never been to Canada before? Always hanging around New York, eh? Are you taking a trip or something?”
“No. I, uh, crash-landed here.”
“From space?” the girl piped up, gawking.
“Yes, from space,” Loki said through gritted teeth. “Fighting angry aliens.”
“I told you, Daddy! He’s a hero!”
“I bet you’re trying to find your way to America, then? Lord knows why, there’s all kinds of weird things happening around town nowadays.”
“What do you mean?”
“Half the world’s gone! Poof! Just like that, some alien business I bet.”
“Are you going to save us from them?” his daughter asked again. Loki sighed.
“I’ll try my best. Now, can you please show me how to get to New York as fast as possible?”
The lumberjack’s husband took Loki and his daughter in his jeep and drove a merry long way to the nearest airport. On the way, the little girl asked him all sorts of questions about the Avengers, that he could only half-answer.
“Is it true Thor is super powerful?”
“Well. He's not that powerful. He just uses a hammer. Anyone with a hammer can use it as a weapon and suddenly be considered powerful.”
“I wish I had a super powerful hammer. Then my brothers would stop teasing me so much.”
“Hey,” her second father softly scolded.
“They’re mean!”
“Sibling feuds? I know the feeling,” Loki muttered.
“Do you have siblings, Mr. Avenger?”
“Sure do,” he smiled wryly. “Absolute bullies.”
“Me too!”
“Hey now, let our guest settle down a bit,” her dad said. “She gets a little excited around new people, so sorry.”
“It’s no problem.”
“The local airport’s just up here. It’ll take you to Detroit, and then you gotta get a connection flight to New York.”
“Thank you,” Loki said, genuinely.
“Why are you going to New York, Mr. Avenger?”
“To find my siblings,” Loki sighed. “At least, one of them should still be there.”
“But they’re mean to you?”
“Yeah,” Loki pondered as the car came to a stop. “But they’re family. I suppose.”
-
A few cunning lies and disguises later, Loki was suddenly landing in New York, amidst chaos. It had been a few days since he’d woken up, and apparently a few days since what they call the ‘Blip’. Humans clearly don’t like having their realities altered. 
Your home was abandoned. Alfred didn't even greet Loki at the door, and no amount of pulling and prying opened it for him. The lights were off, and he feared the worst.
It wasn’t until he was in the streets and overhead muttering about some crazy goth lady terrorizing a nearby street that Loki thought he had finally found something.  
He marched down the street until, to his surprise, he found Hela sitting hunched on the side walk, scowling and daring anyone to come close to her. She looked incredibly tired and disheveled, but her eyes were clear and angry, and recognized her idiot brother immediately. 
“What the hell brought you back here?” Hela snarled. 
“A toddler’s wisdom, if you’ll believe it,” Loki said, ignoring her glare as he sat down next to her. 
“You look like shit.”
“Thanks. So do you.”
Hela grumbled. 
“Have you eaten?”
“Since when did you become Mother? I don't need your help.”
“Really?” Loki picked up a filthy scoop from a pile of three ice cream tubs that were fully devoured. He dangled it from his fingertips for a moment, pulling a face. “I think you do.”
“You’re supposed to be dead.”
“Glad to see you too, sister.”
Silence. Hela really did look like shit, Loki noted. Her hair was mussed, and there were rips and broken pieces in her armour, reminiscent of the time they’d met. She had to be weak not to bother fixing it with her powers, or was just too preoccupied to even think to fix it. 
“Where’s Y/N?” Loki asked. 
“Beats me.”
“Did you kill her?”
Hela’s eyes snapped to his, a sudden fire in them. “How dare you say that?”
“Well, her home is abandoned and no one answered the door, and you’re here  cowering like a criminal. One makes conclusions.”
Something changed in her expression, and she turned her body to face him. “Abandoned?”
Loki frowned, “yes. Didn't you know?”
“No- I.. I’ve been here, the last time I saw her...” 
Hela jumped to her feet, nearly kicking Loki in the process. “That bastard, he took her, didn’t he? Him and his awful, forsaken pieces of shit he calls friends.”
“Who?”
“Our darling brother,” she spat. “He came in and- and threatened me, and then took her from me.”
She paced in front of him, green fire trailing behind her heels, hot with anger. She had expected you to come find her, take her back to your home, make her feel safe. But when you never came she had assumed you had abandoned her. Now, knowing Thor had taken you instead, filled her with rage.
“Where does your little posse hang out, hm? Some supposed secret lair? A great big castle in the sky?”
Loki blinked at her, at her sudden outbursts, at the scared glances from passerbys, and didn’t know what to say.
“Fine then, I’ll get her myself,” she growled, turning away from him. 
Loki nearly let her walk away, let her walk into whatever doom she was getting  herself into, but with a groan and a mad realization, he knew she was the only one he could rely on right now.
“Wait,” he said, reluctantly, hurrying after her and grabbing her arm. “You can’t just go running off. Tell me what happened.”
Hela spat at his feet. “I don’t need to tell you anything.”
“You care about her, don't you? Y/N? Why else would you want to ‘rescue’ her from our brother?”
“Be silent,” she hissed.
“No, no, I’m right, aren’t I? You care for her, but you messed up, and now you have no one on your side. That’s why you left, and that’s why Thor had to take her.”
Hela yanked her arm away before Loki could see her face, but he knew what she felt; remorse, and loss. 
“Tell me.”
And so, reluctantly, knowing she had no other choice, Hela sat him down, this time on an actual park bench rather than the ground. She told him what had happened, how her mistrust had turned to affection for you, and how Thanos had destroyed everything in the end, and how the Avengers had fought her out of fear.
“I know the feeling,” Loki agreed, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, watching an elderly lady feed a bunch of pigeons as if nothing drastic had happened to the world the past few days. 
“And now I don't know where she is, and she probably hates me, but who am I to blame her for that?”
“If I know anything about Y/N, is that she cares about everyone, but it takes a lot more to win her love. She doesn’t hate you. She’s just afraid. I mean, you did after all break her window and run off into nowhere.”
Hela stayed quiet, made an annoyed sound in her throat, and looked away.
“I’m starving, how did you get all that ice-cream? Why not an actual meal? Or were you just eating your feelings?”
“Y/N doesn’t like it when I kill people, so it was either massacre the street or steal their dairy products,” Hela bristled. 
“Fair enough.”
“Now what, hm? You come out here, seemingly from the dead, chastise me for messing up, and now judge my diet? What do you really want, Loki?”
“Not sure, to be perfectly honest,” Loki said. “I thought I was dead, and then I wasn’t. Frankly, my priorities are shifting.”
“And what is your current priority?”
“Getting you back to Y/N so you stop moping around and fix this.”
“And how do you suppose we do that?”
Loki grinned, standing up. His armour shimmered and regained its full glamour; horned helmet and deep green cloak. 
“Taking notes from me, are we?” Hela grumbled. Loki glared at her.
“I was wearing this look long before you got here. Now, get up, we’re going to infiltrate the Avengers and give you your romantic happily-ever-after so you stop being such a pain in everyone’s neck.”
“You think we’ll just be able to get in? You really are as mad as Father was.”
“I’ve broken into quite a few places over the years, I’ll have you know. I’m the God of Mischief after all.”
“Am I supposed to be impressed?” Hela stood, her own armour strengthening again. 
“Shut it.”
A/N: Loki is not dead! I know he’s technically alive in an alternate universe or whatever.. but I wanted the Odin Trio to be together sooooo here we are. Let me know what you think!!
taglist: @midnight-lestrange​​ @cheerfullyvenomous​ @germansarechill​@gaylorrds @amii-nyc​ @waitingfortheendtocome​ @novakitten0901​@marvels-writings​ 
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