#two bc i realized all of my feelings for others were orchestrated in my head and then got in a relationship very soon after that and was

[m4ndysk4nkovich]

regarding the “she treated them more like business partners” thing, svetlana said it best when they were in couples therapy— she doesn’t show love regularly, she shows by doing. when she lists everything she’s done for kev and v, it becomes clear that acts of service are her way of showing that she cares. this makes sense with her background.

her communication skills aren’t great, and she can be very stoic, but she was always doing things that ultimately helped kev and v out and she was also very affectionate. i don’t think it would be realistic if she showed love the same way as them, given that she probably hasn’t been shown very much love in her life (or even had healthy relationships).

oh man, that’s a loaded question but i’ll give it a go. basically the svetlana as a con artist narrative doesn’t work for me because her actions don’t line up with someone who was planning a long-con. she runs into kev at the park by chance, and he’s the once who strikes up a conversation with her.

then, when she’s at risk of being deported, her immediate plan is to run off to kentucky— it’s v who says that there must be some other way (interestingly, bc she doesn’t want to lose svet as a babysitter/bar employee) and kev whose idea it is to marry her so that she can get a green card.

then when she does marry v for a green card, that’s all it is. they both acknowledge this. when the whole throuple thing starts, all parties are in it for convenience. kev and v want to keep svetlana around to cook, clean, watch the kids, work the bar, etc. they plainly state this. meanwhile svetlana gets a roof over her head, a job, and a family for yevgeny.

things get messy once real feelings get involved, but svetlana never targeted kev and v to scam them for the bar. she isn’t even the one who asked to look at their finances— v asks her to do this once she realizes svetlana is good at math.

similarly, it’s isn’t svetlana’s idea that they adopt each other’s kids— v suggests it so that they can claim each other’s children as dependents on their taxes. it wasn’t even about them being a family.

all of this to say: all of these opportunities just fell into svetlana’s lap. she didn’t orchestrate any of them. every single idea (getting married, looking at the finances, adopting each other’s kids) came from kev and v. this doesn’t align with svetlana being a con artist who targeted for their bar.

even when she finally had the bar, she kept insisting that nothing had to change between them. putting the bar in her name was never about stealing it or throwing kev and v out on their asses, she just wanted control because she was a better manager (i’m not saying she was right to do this, i’m just speaking from her pov) and the bar would have gone bankrupt in six months if they had continued to run things the way that they were running them.

she also kept asking if they could be a throuple again after she had the bar and was clearly hurt by them turning on her, whereas if it had just been about her getting the bar then she wouldn’t have cared when they iced her out.

and, like, svetlana is a smart girl…if she wanted to con someone i doubt she would have set her sights on a poor couple on the southside with two kids of their own. she would have hit up bars with billionaires like she did in s8.

i hope this doesn’t sound rude or argumentative this is just my two cents since you asked. also sorry this kind of got away from me i just have a lot of opinions when it comes to svetlana lmao

i honestly don’t disagree with any of this or have anything to say against it, but read what anon said because they’re great at writing and make great points ^

[youngbeezer]

hi!! can I please request something?

going to a lake house, maybe friends to lovers with bowen byram?

thank you! 💗.

A/N: HI IM SO SORRY THIS LITERALLY TOOK 4 EVER!!! i was having such bad writer's block with also zero motivation, but i eventually put a little something together and i hope whoever requested this first off actually sees this bc seriously its been a good month of this sitting in my inbox but also i hope you like it :)

Word Count: 2940

Warning(s): kinda angsty in beginning, curse words, ends fluffy !!!

masterlist || join my taglist

These next few days is either going to turn out to be the best week of the summer, or the most awkward week of the summer...

I’m currently stuck in a car surrounded by couples on our way to a lake house in Colorado. Somehow I ended up being lumped into this chaotic group of professional hockey players and their drop-dead gorgeous significant others.

About a year ago at my local salon, I just so happened to be seated right next to a woman named Grace, who I immediately hit it off with. We became fast friends and are now basically inseparable at this point. Her boyfriend just so happens to play hockey for the Colorado Avalanche, Cale Makar. Now I have also grown quite close with Cale as well, since I am always at their shared apartment for Grace. At this point Cale is basically third wheeling us, instead of it being the other way around. Therefore I was also always invited to team parties and get-togethers, which prompted more friendships with most of the guys on the team and their respective partners.

Someone I have surprisingly grown super close with is Bowen Byram. As soon as Cale introduced us two, his blue eyes and raspy voice immediately drew me in. Straight away we bonded over common interests and that night we talked for almost three hours. After that, we were thick as thieves. So thick that recently I have come to the realization that I have caught major feelings for him along the way.

It has only been a few weeks since I have come to this realization and it has already started to affect our relationship. I definitely started to ignore Bowen a little bit when I first figured out my feelings because I was scared he would somehow find out or I would just end up blurting it out at some point. And the last thing I want is for my silly feelings to ruin such a great friendship.

Thus why this week can either turn out to be the best or the worst.

I’ve decided that at some point during this trip I need to confess my feelings for Bowen. He’s also seemed to notice the shift in my attitude towards him. I have become more closed off and not as touchy as we used to be. Bowen and I are both very touchy/feely types of people. So what seemed like just some harmless cuddling and play wrestling with each other, to me did very little to quell down my feelings.

For example, this morning when we were packing up the cars for the trip a group of us are taking to Tyson Jost’s lakehouse, Bowen went to wrap his arms around my middle from the back and I subconsciously flinched away at his touch. I know he definitely noticed my mood shift from the defiant pout that was resting on his face. After that I did what I do best, and ran away to the other car that was driving up and basically begged Nate to switch seats with me.

Which now leads to my current thoughts. The entire car ride up I have been contemplating on ways I could tell him, but each scenario just ended up with him telling me that he doesn’t feel the same, and our friendship essentially being over. Obviously I was just overthinking just a little, but I’ve never been stuck in a situation like this before-- and now we are going to be stuck in a lake house together for an entire week, so I am going to be forced to face this situation whether I want to or not.

“Yo. Earth to y/n?” Tyson draws, trying to gain my attention. I snap out of my thoughts as soon as I hear my name, and bring my gaze to the rearview mirror to meet Tyson’s questioning look. “We’re here.” He announces.

Susanna, Mikko’s girlfriend, adds on, “You alright? You seemed kind of out of it the entire car ride.”

I shake my head to try and clear my thoughts and notice that we are indeed here at the lake house we will be staying at for the next week. I clear my dried up throat before croaking out a weak, “Yeah, I’m fine. Just don’t like long car rides.”

Both of them nod, content with my answer and exit the car to join Mikko in unloading all of the luggage from the trunk. I take a few more moments to fully get my head together after dealing with all my jumbled thoughts throughout the entire three hour car ride.

Jumping out of the car, the first thing I see is Bowen letting out a yawn and stretching out. As his arms raise over his head, some of his shirt rises up with it and immediately my eyes are drawn to the small portion of skin and v-line that is in front of me. Bowen then notices my presence and makes eye contact with me, giving me one of his adorable little smiles. I advert my gaze as quickly as I can so my obvious ogling isn’t as obvious and go to finally retrieve my luggage.

Yeah this was gonna be a long week.

…

After everyone got pretty much all settled into their rooms, we all ended up coming back together to sit around the firepit to chat and enjoy some drinks. For this trip that Tyson orchestrated there are in total ten people staying in the house. Me, Tyson, obviously since it’s his house; Bowen, Cale, Grace, Alex Newhook, Mikko and his girlfriend Susanna, and lastly Nate and his supposed new girl who will be joining us later on in the week.

Apparently a group of the guys and their partners have been taking trips together at the end of the hockey season for a while now, and since growing closer with the team this year, I graciously got an invite.

Since it was getting later and a little bit more chilly, I grabbed a random sweatshirt that I saw already laying around in the living room before making my way outside to join everyone by the firepit. Getting closer I noticed that the only seat available just so happened to be next to Bowen.

Cale and Grace give each other a not so inconspicuous knowing look when they see me approaching. As soon as I sit down, a question is being thrown at me.

“Whose sweatshirt is that y/n?” Cale brings everyone's attention to me with a growing smirk on his face.

“I don’t know, I just found it in the living room.” I give Cale a questioning glare, trying to figure what his endgame is right now.

“It’s mine.” I hear that same raspy voice that I love and know so well. I feel my face start heating up at the idea of wearing Bowen’s sweatshirt. Am I wearing his name on my back right now, and I just didn’t even think to check earlier?

“Oh, uh. Sorry, I can give it back to you, if you want it.” I stumble out, now feeling awkward and a little embarrassed about how flustered I am getting over a simple sweatshirt.

Bowen gives me a little smile before replying back, “Nah, it’s fine. It looks better on you anyway.”

I clear my throat and stumble out an awkward ‘thanks’ at Bowen and then turn my attention to Grace right next to me so I don’t embarrass myself even more. What I don’t see though is the way Bowen's face immediately falls when I turn my back on him.

…

Around midnight is when everyone started to make their way back inside the house to start getting ready for bed. I was mindlessly scrolling through my social media, so I didn’t notice that mostly everyone had already gone inside.

“Y/n.” I look up at the mention of my name to notice that Bowen and I are the only ones left outside.

Also noticing the intense gaze I am receiving from Bowen, I quickly gather my things and stumble out, “Oh my gosh I didn’t notice everyone left already. I should head inside as well.”

Bowen is quicker though because he grabs ahold of my wrist, halting me in place before I make my very obvious escape.

“Hold on, please. Can you please talk to me?” Bowen pleads out.

“What do you mean? We’ve been talking all night.” I countered, trying one last time to get out of this conversation.

“We’ve been talking as a group all night yeah, but you couldn’t even make eye contact with me. You know what I mean. What’s been going on? Did I do something?” Bowen frowned.

At that moment I felt so guilty. I’ve been so focused on trying to ignore my feelings that I have developed that I ended up pushing my best friend away and hurting him in the process. I close my eyes and let out a deep breath. I knew I would eventually have to have this talk with Bowen during this week, but I just didn’t expect it to be on the very first night.

“Okay. Yeah, let’s talk.”

I lead the way down to the dock overlooking the lake and sit down to dangle my feet into the water. I know for a fact that Grace and Cale realized that we both haven’t come in behind them, so they are most likely snooping by the backdoor wondering what we are doing.

Bowen joins me, after slipping his shoes off and dangling his feet in as well.

“What’s been going on y/n?” Bowen asks again.

“I-I think I’m in love with you.” I blurt out. I can feel my heartbeat pounding in my ears as I await any type of response from Bowen. Taking a peek over at him, I see the pure shock on his face. Probably wasn’t the best idea to start off the conversation with that.

Taking his silence as a bad sign, I start spewing out whatever I can to try and calm the anxiety coursing through my veins. “I-I think I have known for a while and I just tried to ignore it, I guess. But then I realized that I was just pushing you away, an-and I never wanted to do that. Our friendship means that absolute world to me, and I would hate myself if anything I did, or-or my stupid feelings jeaporized that.” At some point during my little rant, a few tears escaped. I turn my head away as I try to hold back on a full on sob breaking loose.

“You think?” He eventually breaks the silence.

Confusedly, I turned my head back around and let out a strangled, “Huh?” I see the corners of Bowen’s mouth start curving up into a tiny smile, confusing me even more.

“You said, you think you’re in love with me.” He pointed out.

My eyebrows raise in question and I give him a little shrug, prompting him to elaborate more.

“Well… I’m pretty damn sure I’m in love with you.” Bowen softly declared.

My breath catches in my throat and my mouth turns as dry as the Sahara Desert. Those were definitely not the words I was expecting to come out of his mouth. He chuckles at my surprised face and scooches a little closer to my body to wipe a stray tear on my cheek.

“Are you serious?” I whisper out.

“Of course.” He whispered just as softly back to me as his head inched closer to mine.

My heart pounds in my chest as Bowen’s hand comes up to cradle my cheek. All of our pent up feelings and emotions that we both have been too afraid to admit all come crashing together as our lips finally meet. He kissed me gently, almost carefully, but after all this time gentleness was not what I wanted right now. Bowen let out a low groan as I pulled him flush against my body, my fists bunching up the collar of his shirt.

Before this could go any further, we both pull away breathlessly, basking in what truly just happened-- just now realizing how much our relationship is about to change.

“Fuck.” Bowen breathed out, running his hands over his face. “If I knew that was what it was like to kiss you I would’ve blurted out my feelings the day I met you.”

My ears perk up at his last few words and it seems like he also realizes what he just admitted, as his cheeks immediately turn a rosy color.

“You’ve liked me for that long?” I bashfully question.

Bowen runs his fingers through his hair and blows out a breath of air before answering, “Yeah, I-I mean… yeah I have.” He stumbles out, awkwardly letting out a laugh.

I lean my head on his shoulder and connect our hands, feeling super content and never wanting this moment to end. We take a moment to just sit on the dock-- with our feet hanging in the water, hands intertwined; and bask in the feeling of finally letting our feelings out into the open.

“You know everyone in that house is going to have a field day when they find out.” Bowen mumbles against my shoulder, before leaving a lingering kiss on the exposed skin.

“Oh I wouldn’t be surprised if they all had a bet going or something.” I chimed. I raise my head that had previously been resting on Bowen’s shoulder back up to look at him, and see that he is already smiling at me. “What?” I drawled, feeling my cheeks heating up under his gaze.

“You wanna sleep in my bed tonight?” He asked hesitantly.

My cheeks now feel on fire as I ponder on how I want to go about this. I raise my eyebrows up at him in question as I ponder out, “Do you want me in your bed tonight?”

Bowen gives me an almost incredulous look as he voiced, “Of course I want you in my bed.”

I just give him a simple nod and push my body up in a standing position, reaching out my hand to prompt Bowen to join me. “Okay, let’s go.”

Bowen immediately shoots up from his sitting position, clinging onto my hand as we make our way back up the yard to the sliding glass doors of the lake house. Just as I predicted earlier, Cale and Grace were totally snooping. Actually, the entire house was snooping. Everyone was gathered in the kitchen trying to act casual as we walked in, but as soon as they noticed our conjoined hands, all hell broke loose.

“I fucking knew it!”

“Aw you guys look so cute.”

“Bout time.”

“Ha! Nate, you owe me fifty bucks.”

I looked over at Bowen with an unimpressed look, “Told you they probably had a bet going on.” Meanwhile Bowen has an incredulous look coating his face watching his friends freak out over his newfound relationship. Instead of questioning our oddball friends, Bowen just simply shakes his head, letting out a little chuckle.

“Alright I’m heading up, I can’t deal with these idiots right now.” Bowen gives me a quick peck on the lips before announcing his departure for the night. Most of the others also start making their way up to their respective rooms for bed, the guys putting on a show of making kissy noises and making a few chirps as they follow Bowen up the stairs.

Grace joins me by the counter, making a show of wiggling her eyebrows at me. I’m smiling like an idiot as Cale also joins us, chuckling at my lovesick expression.

“You’re welcome.” Cale smirked.

I scrunch my face up in confusion as I question him back, “For what?”

“For introducing you two, duh.” Cale teased. Grace smacks him on the arm with a tut, making a show of rolling her eyes at her boyfriend. “Alright, seriously I am happy for you guys though.” He eventually relents.

My cheeks heat up from the attention but also from the thought of Bowen and I’s new relationship. Grace grabs me by the shoulders and starts pushing me in the direction of the staircase.

“Obviously I’m happy for you too. All I’ve wanted is the best for you and I think Bowen is just that. And with that being said, go get your mans!” She sends me off with a quick smack on my ass. I giggle the whole way up the stairs on the way into Bowen’s [now our] room feeling extremely giddy and content.

When I enter the room, all the lights except for the bathroom are already off, and it looks like Bowen is already settled into bed. So, I quickly do my night time routine and change into my pajamas before making my way over to the bed I will now be sharing for the week.

Bowen is awaiting me with his arms wide open, which I happily cuddle into the second I am under the covers. He buries his head into my neck, leaving featherlight kisses here and there.

“I love you.” Bowen mumbles into my neck. I card my fingers through his hair and kiss the top of his head as I mumble back those same words, in complete awe over how fast my life has changed in one night. We both knew that we would eventually be together, it just took a little time and a trip to Tyson Jost’s lakehouse for us to figure it out. This week will definitely be one for the books.

Taglist: @barzysandmarnersbitch @handwrittenheroes @hockeyplayerstories @barzy-xoxo @gnemgn @joelsfarabees

Tagging some mutuals as well so this doesnt flop,,,

@2manytabsopen @bb-nhlqueen7 @frederikanderson @simon-edvinsson @coltonndach @carepriceisgoodathockey @lovereadinghockeyy @pettypeteys @kentjohnsons @joekellys @mattybenierss

[wolf-and-bard]

The Geraskier (and Lambden) H2O: Just Add Water AU of my dreams (bc Mermay is almost over and I haven’t done a thing for it and putting Geraskier into my favourite teenage shows is too much fun; this got long and messy):

-Geralt, Eskel, and Lambert grew up on the coast of Australia on an estate that is very big and private with its own sectioned-off part of the beach; among all their surfer kid school friends they are definitely the outcasts; they keep to themselves a lot and everyone thinks it’s because of their overprotective father who keeps them from throwing the best parties and also doesn't want them to go out into the ocean or have swimming lessons

-Vesemir is overprotective, but not for the reason everyone thinks; whenever he and/or his boys come into contact with water, they turn into mer-boys, complete with shimmering golden tails; he hoped this genetic oddity would pass them by, but it didn’t and so he taught them to be very careful for fear of them getting hurt

-they all cope with this in different manners: Geralt and Eskel mostly use their ability to do good; they protect little turtles from falling prey to predators, they collect trash from the bottom of the ocean; they also wrestle in the water a lot; Lambert tries to forget this is a thing and stays as far away form any body of water as he can; he spends most of his time secluded in his room, listening to edgy grunge music; sometimes his brothers can lure him out for a round of waterball in their private pool

-Jaskier is one of the popular kids one grade below Geralt (together with Lambert). He always gets the lead role in theatre, he has dozens of friends and a cool band and his outfits are outrageously fashionable; he vlogs a lot, he vlogs so much that anyone who has half a mind to get invested in his life will know everything from his morning routine to the night cream he uses; his favourite cafeteria lunch, the name of his teddy bear and his least favourite cousin

-Jaskier is also determined to befriend Geralt and his bros; he grew up in the same street as them and ever since he discovered Instagram, he’s been dying to take some shots in that house; he’s been over once, when Vesemir made the mistake of inviting a few kids Lambert’s age to his birthday party which ended up in a cake-throwing disaster; little Jaskier thought it was a great idea to tow the garden hose in and clean everything which ruined Vesemir’s favourite rug and had Geralt turn into a mer-boy on the spot; needless to say, Jaskier attributes this memory to a fever dream

-So, Jaskier starts following Geralt and Eskel around (he knows he’ll have no luck with Lambert) and they brush him off every opportunity they get

-What Jaskier doesn’t realize is that Geralt is hardcore in love with him, like so much so that his poor teenage mind cannot stop producing hormones on overload; he spends a lot of time out in the depths to distract himself from this

-What Jaskier also doesn’t realize is that he is falling for Geralt; it’s only for the sake of the 'gram, he tells himself, and because his followers seem to love the chunky mysterious senior with his strangely white hair

-Jaskier’s followers figure it out, the whole school figures it out, Lambert and Eskel figure it out (Geralt lets the guy sit at their lunch table, of course they’re in love) and eventually, even Geralt figures it out. Only Jaskier doesn’t and Geralt has a big-ass secret to keep anyway

-and so, to get rid of his pent-up frustration, he dives deeper and deeper; Eskel starts to worry, Vesemir says it’s just a phase, Lambert plainly doesn’t care

-Speaking of: Aiden is the snarky rich kid / bully that spends way too much time obsessing over uncovering their secret (bc he thinks he’s smart and always thought something about Vesemir was weird and he doesn’t like how they make such a fuss over their privacy). when he invities the three to one of his pool parties, he tries everything to make them reveal what they have going on, but Geralt doesn’t even show and Eskel keeps disappearing to play with Aiden’s dog and so Aiden is stuck with Lambert whom he definitely has a crush on, but won’t ever admit it. they’re enemies, okay? there’s a lot of tension and they end up drunkenly making out behind garden shed, something they both regret in the morning; Lambert doesn’t leave his room for a week straight and feigns a flu so he doesn’t have to meet Aiden at school; Aiden and Jaskier are friends ofc

-one day at school Geralt and Jaskier hang out on the lunch break alone because Eskel’s on a zoo trip with his class and Lambert is avoiding Aiden so he spends all his time holed up beneath the seats of the football field writing angry poems; Jaskier’s forgotten to charge his camera battery so it’s just them, stealing fries off each other’s plates, actually talking for once and Geralt’s sweating because Jaskier sits so close their knees bump and he looks ridiculously cute in his pastel dungarees and there’s this spot of ketchup on his nose that Geralt’s just itching to reach out and wipe away

-Jaskier isn’t all that hungry and he watches Geralt devour a third slice of pizza when he remembers his stupid childhood fever dream; he tells Geralt all about it, the cake fight, the ensuing mess and how he distinctly remembers Geralt growing a fish-tail and flopping around on the living room floor while Vesemir was screaming at them all to get out. “Funny, isn’t it? What your brain can make up?”; Geralt turns chalk-white and splutters a fake laugh

-he isn’t at school the next day and neither are Eskel or Lambert

-nor the next

-they are all a bit afraid, cautious and they just need to spend a few days, just the four of them, throwing themselves into the waves and being free of the shackles of their secrets; they chase each other around, they play some water ball and Vesemir makes them hot cocoa and rubs them dry the way he used to when they were younger and still unable to handle their transformation well

-as he does this, Vesemir thinks about moving somewhere more secure where there are less people, but he can’t take the boys’ life away; Geralt is clearly happy with Jaskier, Lambert’s coming around to opening up to someone, even if that someone is a giant asshole, and Eskel’s too easily unsettled to move elsewhere

-by the third day the boys don’t appear at school - and answer none of his texts - Jaskier gets unsettled; his followers urge him to just go and visit Geralt (they also finally enlighten Jaskier about his own feelings) and Jaskier does. thankfully, his camera is still uncharged and he forgot his phone at home or he would have filmed what he saw as he climbed their garden fence very ungracefully (no one opened the door)

-Geralt went too far out, too deep and got caught in the undertow of some massive waves, then was pulled under and cut himself on some rocks; Jaskier just about catches Eskel and Lambert dragging their brother ashore, his tail flopping helplessly; there’s blood washing away in the waves; Geralt’s eyes are closed and Jaskier understands with rare clarity that somehow this is his fault

-he hurtles towards Geralt, kicking up mud, so afraid that Geralt is going to die and as he does so he calls for Geralt, ignores Lambert’s curses and Eskel’s glower. They gently lower Geralt to the sand where the other two are out of reach of the hungry waves and Lambert runs for Vesemir, Eskel crouches down by Geralt’s tail, inspecting his wounds; meanwhile Jaskier is completely unfazed by the mer-boy thing, he simply drags Geralt’s head onto his lap and strokes his hair, apologizing over and over

-once Geralt is transformed back into human form, his wounds are patched up and Vesemir has given him a thorough lecture, he and Jaskier cuddle on the back porch couch and Jaskier keeps altering between laughing and crying; it’s ridiculous, Geralt is a mer-boy, but also he looked so fragile being hauled out of the water and Jaskier just loves him so fucking much

-and Geralt loves him back. and that’s how a spot of angst orchestrates their happily ever after

-meanwhile Aiden finds out when he has Lambert over for some making out one day and thinks it’s a funny idea to deposit his not-boyfriend in the pool mid-kiss; Lambert just floats in the pool, arms crossed, tail beating, waiting for Aiden to call the cops on him, but Aiden is super turned on and jumps in the pool with him and there’s more making out

THE END

[sukifans]

zuko + 7. ( a kiss on the eye lid ) pls? thank you <33

campcampie said: hey! i’d like to request a kinda modern day zuko x reader where they’re going on their first date and they’ve been friends for like ever using prompt 24 from the 50 types of kisses? if you don’t have time that’s completely fine

LAST FIRST DATE // zuko

WC: 2.4k

PROMPT: “a kiss on the eyelid” & “deep kisses where they have their hands tangled in each other’s hair to pull them closer”

WARNINGS: say goodbye to ur teeth

A/N: hi loves! i hope you don’t mind, but i combined these two requests bc i thought they’d just be super cute together :^) i made it extra long since it’s two requests in one. thank you for sending them in!! we love tooth-rotting fluff here

⇦ 𝘔𝘈𝘚𝘛𝘌𝘙𝘓𝘐𝘚𝘛

It was the only time you had ever felt like this before a first date. You didn’t look him up to check if he had an arrest record, or turn on location sharing with your friends, or repeat conversation starters like a mantra in your head. You didn’t schedule an “emergency phone call” as a graceful way to bow out. You didn’t do any of these things, because you knew you didn’t need to. Your pulse didn’t race in your neck out of nerves, but excitement.

You tried on all your clothes in every possible combination, all of which he’d seen you in before. You fixed your hair one way, then changed your mind, then put it back again. It all either felt like too little for such a blind leap or too much for such a natural step. How was it possible that everything and yet nothing might change today?

Okay, so maybe you were a little nervous. You tried not to focus on how wobbly you felt when you went to answer the knock on your door, but it all melted away at the sight of your best friend standing on your porch with a half-wilted bouquet of your favorite flowers. When he caught sight of you his lips turned up into a sheepish grin, his cheeks already going pink.

“Hi,” you said, much quieter than you’d intended.

“Hey,” he exhaled. “You look... beautiful.”

Now your face was starting to feel hot. “Zuko, you’ve seen me wear this before.”

“So?” He crossed the threshold into your home when you stepped aside to let him in. “You always looking amazing. You could make a burlap sack look designer.”

“Oh, hush.” You accepted the fleeting peck he placed on your lips. It was something you’d done a million times before in greeting or goodbye—yeah, you’d been more than friends without being “more than friends” for some time now—but there was a new electric anticipation to the familiar gesture and it made your heart palpitate. Trying to calm yourself, you fixed your eyes on the flowers he held in an almost white-knuckle grip. “Are those for me?”

He looked down at his hand as if surprised he was carrying a bouquet. “Oh, yeah.” You took it when he thrusted it out at you. “I, uh, saw them at the store and they reminded me of you. They’re your favorite, you know.”

“I know,” you giggled, moving to rustle through your cabinets to find something to put them in. Redness crept up his neck from under the collar of his shirt and he grimaced.

“Right, of course you do.” He looked at you apologetically. “I’m sorry they’re not as pretty anymore. I... got a little excited when I saw them and bought them on the spot a few days ago. I probably should’ve waited.”

“I think they’re beautiful,” you said, filling a jar with water and setting them in place. “Thank you; you didn’t have to.”

“I know. And I knew you’d say that,” he chuckled. He took your hand when you stood in front of him once again. “I just want to make sure I do this right. You deserve to be... wooed, or whatever.”

“Well, consider me wooed.” You squeezed his hand. “I’m happy no matter what, as long as I’m with you.”

The soft, sweet look he fixed you with made you want to melt into a puddle. God, you were head over heels for this man. It was unbelievable how long it took for you to realize and actually do something about it. Everything felt so obvious now—the years of feelings you’d swallowed back like bitter medicine despite how he’d clearly been doing the exact same thing; the ache of yearning in your chest and the burning jealousy that rose like bile in your throat every time you saw him with someone else.

But none of that mattered anymore, because you were here now, with him, sitting in his passenger seat with the windows down and trying to goad him into singing along to the stereo with you. You held his free hand that wasn’t on the wheel in yours, forcing his arm to dance along with you. He watched your antics out of the corner of his eye with a smitten half-smile. You were satisfied when he tapped his fingers against the wheel along with the rhythm pumping from the speakers and bobbed his head. You swore you could even hear him humming when you leaned in close enough while swaying in your seat.

The date had been your idea, because of course it was—you knew him better than just about anybody else, especially himself and maybe even his Uncle Iroh. Your sharp perceptiveness and ability to read him like a book had unnerved him at first, early in your friendship as awkward, angsty teens. He didn’t like the concept of being known and analyzed; uncomfortable with the idea of existing in other people’s minds in a form beyond his control. That always led to expectations, and expectations led to disappointment.

Learning how to be okay with his own vulnerability and personhood was one of many things you had helped him with over the years of your relationship. Because of you—for you—he was a better person, a better friend, a better man. It was something he wished he knew how to thank you for. Even if he could find the words (and the nerve), it would never be enough. He had settled long ago on just trying to show you, every day and in every way he could.

As the two of you traipsed across the park grass and you searched for the perfect spot, he couldn’t help but marvel at the fact his hands seemed to be designed to hold yours. The way your fingers fitted perfectly between his, the warmth of every contact point between your palms; it felt as natural as the tides or the winds or anything else that had always been and always would be. He’d experienced the feeling of your hand in his hundreds if not thousands of times before, but it all felt so much more... poignant, somehow, in this time and place.

“You’ve been really quiet,” you observed as you laid out the blanket once you’d deemed the area suitable. He sat on it next to you, dropping down the backpack of snacks he’d been carrying. “Are you okay? Is something wrong?”

“No, definitely not,” he quickly reassured you, wanting the worried crease between your eyebrows to smooth away. “I’m fine. I’ve just been thinking.”

You nodded, not pressing him. That was just one more of a million things he adored about you: you never forced him to tell you things he didn’t want to say. This, however, was something he wanted to share with you.

“I’ve been thinking about how important you are to me, and how lucky I am to have you in my life. And how... easy this feels.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “Easy?”

“Yeah. In a really, really good way. I feel like this is exactly where I’m supposed to be. Even if this doesn’t really work out the way we want it to, you still mean everything to me. I can’t even imagine who or where I would be if I hadn’t met you.” He spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully. Taking in a deep breath, he continued. “I think about it a lot, actually, but I guess I’m just... thinking about it more, now.”

Your lips curved up into that gentle smile that made his heart skip a few beats and you squeezed his hand. “I know exactly what you mean, Zuko. I feel the same way and I couldn’t’ve said it better myself.” The tips of his ears burned when you leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek. He mumbled something incoherent under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck, and you giggled at his sudden shyness. He cleared his throat and looked over at the raised stage a little ways away.

“Um, I think the show is starting.” You followed his gaze up to where stagehands were setting up props for the play. The crowd of people hushed as the lights illuminated the stage and orchestral music flowed from the speakers. His stomach flipped when you shifted closer to him and turned your head so your lips brushed his earlobe.

“I’ve heard this troupe is better than the Ember Island Players, but if they’re not I packed some tomatoes to throw,” you whispered before burying your face in his shoulder to stifle your laugh at his scoff in response.

“If they’re worse than the Ember Island Players then consider this our first and last date. I don’t think any relationship could recover from that,” he mumbled and you rolled your eyes with a grin.

“Harsh, but understandable,” you sighed. You rooted around in the bag and pulled out the bottle of cheap wine you’d slipped in. You passed it to him after taking a swig, a devilish smirk on your face that made goosebumps rise on his skin. He took a sip just as the first actors entered the stage.

They were much better than the Ember Island Players, though that was a pretty low bar to set. As much of a theater snob he could be, he had to admit they did Love Amongst the Dragons justice (and even brought some tears to his eyes that he hastily blinked away in hopes you wouldn’t notice). The sun had set long before you both rose with the rest of the crowd to give the troupe a standing ovation. He could feel his heart swell with adoration as you clapped and whistled enthusiastically, the lights on the crowd making the tear tracks on your face glisten.

“That was amazing!” You turned to him breathlessly, eyes sparkling. The wine you’d shared was making him feel bold (and a little wobbly) and the way you looked at him was making the blood rush in his ears. Without thinking he slid his palms under your jaw and leaned in to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. After your initial moment of surprise you closed your eyes and twisted your hands into the front of his shirt, pulling him against your body as you kissed him back insistently. A jolt shot up your spine when his tongue prodded at your mouth and you parted your lips, humming as you tilted your head to deepen the kiss.

“Zuko,” you breathed against his lips, pulling away just far enough to gasp for air.

“(Y/N).” Your name rolled off his tongue like a reverent prayer. His hands slipped down to your waist where he dug his fingertips into your skin, as if afraid you’d dematerialize if he didn’t hold you in place.

“Are we spinning? It feels like we’re spinning.”

“No,” he chuckled. “I think we had too much wine.”

“It’s not the wine.” You opened your eyes to see his were still squeezed shut. He was afraid that he’d open them and wake up and it would all have been a dream.

“I’m pretty sure it is.”

“No—“ you cupped his face and tilted it so you could press a kiss to his forehead, and another to each cheek, and then one brushed over the rough skin on his scarred eyelid that made his breathe catch in his throat “—you always make me feel like that.”

He opened his eyes now, cheeks flushed a blazing red. He drank in the sight of your wide eyes and kiss-swollen lips and felt his heart leap into his throat. You felt captivated by his hungry gaze; he was staring at you like a man starved. “Sorry,” he mumbled breathlessly.

You weren’t expecting that. “Sorry? For what?”

“Making you feel... spinny.”

You giggled and pulled him in for another kiss, threading your fingers of one hand through his shaggy black locks while the thumb of your other skimmed across his scar. He raised his own to tangle in your hair, tugging you impossibly closer. Your foot caught on the blanket and you stumbled, bringing you both crashing to the ground as your faces smacked together. Surely you two were a sight to see for the people filtering out of the park now that the play was over.

“Fuck,” you groaned, rubbing the bridge of your nose where his chin had slammed against it. He grunted and propped himself up so he wasn’t laying on top of you anymore.

“That was definitely the wine,” he said and you nodded in agreement. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” You dropped your head back into the grass and scrunched up your face. “Your chin hurt my nose.”

He leaned over you with a grin. “Well, your nose hurt my chin.”

“Oh, my apologies. Didn’t even consider how your bony chin could be injured after smashing into my soft cartilage.” You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore how his huff of laughter made your stomach feel fluttery.

“Just try to keep it in mind next time. This time, though—“ he gently kissed between your eyes, then the bridge of your nose, then the tip “—I’ll kiss it better for you.” He reveled in how you visibly flustered, opening your mouth and then closing it again quickly.

“Dork,” you muttered and he laughed again. “The hell do you mean, ‘next time?’”

“Well, y’know, if we keep falling for each other, then—“ You cut him off with an exasperated groan.

“If I didn’t know better I’d think Sokka gave you the idea to purposefully fall, just to drop that stupid line.”

“I mean, he did offer to help since I always seem to trip over my words around you.” You made a disgusted face in response to his cheeky smile and shoved him off you. He rolled onto his back next to you as you sat up.

“I should’ve seen that coming,” you grumbled.

“Yeah,” he sighed, obviously pleased with himself. You looked down at him when he tugged on your sleeve. “Hey, Sokka’s tips didn’t ruin my chance at a second date, right?”

You took his hand in yours and laced your fingers together. “As if I’d let Sokka’s stupid ass fuck up the years of pining I’ve put in. You’ll have to try harder than that to get rid of me, Zuko.”

You could feel his smile against your skin when he brought your knuckles to his lips. “That’s what I like to hear.”

ATLA TAGS: @hotgirlazula @octophopi @simpinforsukka @protect-remus @akiris @sunflowerazula @wooscottoncandyhair @chewymoustachio

ZUKO TAGS: @fiantomartell @avatarayeaye @hypercakeiii @sher-lockedmarvel @sunflowerr-mami @emeraldpotato @september-ctd @duh-dobrik

[kishimoto-did-us-dirty]

Naruto Arts School AU

Reposting bc I love this post and bc I can lol

Character

- major

description

Naruto

-Drums

okie nobody can deny that our main boy over here is a loud soul, however, he can also carry a damn good beat that compliments his band mates’ music really well. Tbh, he sucked at music to begin with and had trouble matching rhythms and listening to his band mates when they played, however he eventually became a really good rhythm maker.

Sasuke

-Guitar (lead)

He’d be assigned to the same band as Naruto, and that’s how they met. This boy is a damn good guitarist y’all, but has attitude problems™, and used to not be able to deal with Naruto’s haphazard beat making, thus perpetuating a rivalry between the two. He constantly feels overshadowed by his elder brother Itachi, a piano major.

Sakura

- Dance

Ya girl fucking demolishes every single dance routine. Initially starting out with a focus on ballet (pre-shippuden in canon), our pink headed queen soon realized that she wasn’t getting the full experience of what it meant to dance. Her point shoes were her loves, however they hurt and nipped in places not just physical. She realized that she didn’t want to be pigeonholed into a genre of which she would be inhibited by standard, and rather to dance so as to forget technical perfection. Thus, what would partner with post-shippuden Sakura in canon, Art School AU Sakura got into hip-hop. And bitch, she goes hard. A lot of the other girls who she used to dance ballet with admire her for her absolutely BODYING her dance routines, but also for never sacrificing her femininity to dance and not taking BS for being a girl who goes so hard in a male-dominated genre. (Some people believe that hip-hop is heavy hitting and a little metaphorically “dark” so to speak, which Sakura is not. So obviously I expect a little disagreement regarding this, however if you look at people like Delaney Glazer or Kaycee Rice, that is how Sakura would dance).

Hinata

- Creative Writing

Shy and bookworm-like, Hinata can write the best poetry, romance and adventure pieces out of all the creative-writing majors. She’s especially good at writing character relationships and development, and has such a subtle sense of intelligent wit in her writing, that if you blinked you would miss it. However should you catch it, you’re sure to chuckle. Her only struggle is that she tends to drag on in important scenes, stretching them against the regular flow of the rest of her writing. Needs validation for her writing through an IV drip.

Kiba

- Drums OR Photography

Drums for obvious reasons (loud and obnoxious), although ruff boi looks good with a camera, too. Great at landscapes and street photography.

Shino

- Creative Writing OR Photography

I could definitely see Shino having fucking beautiful handwriting, and being a beast at writing anything within the sci-fi realm. I could also see him doing some journalism, and writing for the school paper. He’s very good at the logic of his sci-fi books and coming up with logical but enrapturing stories, that intermingle knowledge and mystery. He’s a very specific type of read, however, and may not appeal to all, however if you enjoy anything similar to Star Wars or Hitchhikers guide to the galaxy, then Shino is your author. If this doesn’t float your boat, though, try photography-major Shino. He can get the best angles of bugs he sees, and has an extensive portfolio with entomology-related snapshots.

Ino

- Dance

Like Sakura, she, too, began with a focus on ballet, however began to branch out into contemporary ballet a little later than Sakura. This is another reason why Sakura switched her focuses, as she and Ino had always had a fierce rivalry for dieting (ballet dancers are pressured to be as thin as possible) as well as battling for technical perfection when they were ballet focused. As the two grew, Ino focused more so on contemporary, but can certainly do some hip-hop with Sakura every now and then, just as Sakura occasionally takes a contemporary class with her. The two still have a rivalry, however, just not to the previous extent as when they were actively competing against each other. They’re more like sisters.

Shikamaru

- Guitar (bass) OR Creative Writing OR Architecture

Smart boy’s a tricky one. He would either be a bassist, a mystery and historical fiction writer, or, of his school offers it, be great at architecture. Idrk.

Choji

- ermmmmm….. maybe graphic design? Tech theatre (props)? Vocal???

Choji is hARD dwnccnpc (that’s what she said). I could see him behind a computer screen, animating and designing games/covers/posters or whatever. He could also do something in theatre, but I don’t think he would do anything up on stage. Something like props would suit him. He might do something in music, tho???? Can he sing???? Help???

UPDATE: Choji is a band kid. He plays tuba or some shit. Big boy got big lungs.

Tenten

- Dance

Always has been, and always will be a hip-hop dancer. She wanted to be like Tsunade, a legendary dancer and followed in her footsteps, taking up hip-hop. (that’s why Sakura focused on hip-hop, too, because Tsunade mentored her and taught a few of her classes, too). Tenten is fast and can keep up with any beat. Not only is she a great dancer, but she’s also athletic, and does track and field (cross country), football, and softball at another school too, since the arts schools doesn’t offer it. Overall great dancer with styl. She’s really looked up to by some of her underclassmen for her cheery, but badass style and skill.

Lee

- DANCE (hip-hop, too)

It’s sweat. It’s burn. It’s energy. It’s Lee.

Neji

- Violin

First chair violinist in his freshman year for the school’s philharmonic orchestra. He be extra like that.

Gaara

- Guitar (bass)

He had a lonely childhood with neglectful/abusive parents, and rock music really helped him with that. Emo music is emo and often made fun of, but the songs have messages and Gaara related, so self-taught himself the bass guitar to help cope, and bring him closer to the music that salvaged him.

Kankuro

-Art

Specifically sculpting. For obvious reasons.

Temari

- Acting

Girl can make you cry with some of her monologues. Total lead. Has a seriousness in her acting that makes her believable, however can falter on the less-serious roles. She may also double-major in whatever Shikamaru does. And she’s better at it than him.

Itachi

-Piano

Boy could play any etude at age 7. Performed at Carnegie Hall when he was 10. And no, he didn’t pay to play there. The hall invited him. Began composing at 9. Has perfect pitch. Owns international awards. If he’s not at school it’s because he’s traveling to play for crowds. He excels at classical and baroque, however has an ear for romantic, and enjoys playing/composing pieces either written or inspired by romantic pieces. Enjoys Schumann, Debussy, and Tchaikovsky. Hates modern classical music, though. Can only take cinematic pieces composed by people like Williams, however can’t stand Prokofiev at all. He does like modern music, though, so long as it’s outside of the orchestral/classical music realm. He likes R&B. He would have liked to do film with Shisui, particularly producing, however his parents pressure him with piano, so he helps Shisui with student films and projects outside of school (will probably pursue film after graduating, tho).

Shisui

- FILM / VIDEO PRODUCTION

Fight me on this!!! THIS BOY IS SO GOOD AT CINEMATOGRAPHY MY FILMMAKING ASS CAN’T EVEN. AS SOMEONE WHO IS IN LOVE WITH FILMOGRAPHY, TRUST ME, SHISUI HAS IT™. THE IT™. HE’S GOOD AT EVERYTHING. CINEMATOGRAPHY. DIRECTING. SCREENWRITING. GRIP-WORK. EDITING. PRODUCING. HE’S SUCH A FILM NERD TOO, AND WATCHES OLD FILMS ALL THE TIME. HE’S JUST TOO GOOD AT IT. DOES STREET PHOTOGRAPHY TOO. HE’S OVERALL A GENIUS WITH CAMERAS. Does film with Itachi outside of school and teaches him, and the two are overall geniuses at filmography. They want to start their own studio together (they do, and it becomes huge). He becomes a leading director, while Itachi becomes a producer and directs sometimes too.

Sasori, Deidara, and Sai

Guess.

Kakashi

- Saxophone

It’s the only thing that suits him and it suits him so well. Has suave.

Obito (omfg his arms y'all)

- Not to say drums or anything, but…. drums.

Narutard 2.0. But he also dabbles in other areas of music. Like, he can also play guitar and sing. He’s also pretty good at music production. Makes R&B sometimes. He wasn’t always the best musician but proved to be a late bloomer, and really harnessed his potential. Tries to be as suave as Kakashi and his saxophone. He isn’t.

Hashirama

- Vocal

OkaYYYYYY. VOCAL GOD. CAN DO RIFFS AND RUNS AND HAS PERFECT PITCH. ALSO THE SWEETEST GUY??? WAS A CHAMBER SINGER AS A FRESHMAN. EVERYONE LOVES HIM, GOOD BOY ENERGY.

Likes to belt.

Madara

- Piano

Total prodigy, but hates classical music. Once was accompanist to Hashirama for a solo vocal performance and hasn’t been left alone since.

Tobirama

- Viola or Cello

Some sort of string instrument and takes it very seriously. Probably plays cello because violas are violas and that’s lame (if you know, you know). Has almost as many awards as Itachi and Madara, but hates his usual piano accompanist, Izuna.

Izuna

- Piano

Also a piano god. The uchihas breed them. Hates being accompanist for Tobirama. They’re secretly best friends though, don’t tell anyone.

Karin

- Tech Theatre.

Idk why. Probably started out with props and made her way up to TD (technical director) in senior year.

Suigetsu

- Tech Theatre

Fucking hates theatre kids. Assistant TD. Karin hates him.

Jugo

- Visual Art

Paints landscapes and nature. Really good with oils and gouache respectively.

Yamato

- lmao Trumpet.

Met Kakashi since they both play brass, but boy he ain’t got that suave. That’s why he plays trumpet. Lmao he plays the fucking trumpet anjdwcnojdnn.

Rin

- Vocal

Sweetest voice and could also play the acoustic guitar when she sang. Died in a car accident junior year. Kakashi was at the wheel when they got hit by a drunk driver. Obito saw the whole thing.

Kurenai

- Visual Art

Can create dream like paintings that almost seem like illusions.

Asuma

- Cello / guitar

Used to play cello because of his parents, but loves to play guitar. Can sing but his voice is raspy from smoking.

Gai

Who the fuck do you think teaches dance?

Jiraiya

- Guitar (lead)

Used to major in lead guitar. Sucked at first. Probably has a couple, casual Grammy Awards (they’re actually not that hard to be awarded with, The Recording Academy award many people outside of mainstream media. My school has a few). Now teachers as head of the Band department at this school.

Tsunade

-Dance

Legendary dancer. Probably toured with a few famous people. Now teaches. Mentored Sakura, and mentored Ino but for a shorter time.

Orochimaru

- Idk, didgeridoo, or some shit

Definitely a wood wind. Flute maybe??? Teaches now but no one knows what he does. Pedophile. Has a thing for Sasuke.

[threeletterslife]

For Everland

→ [2/7] of the Society Series

→ summary: Yoongi is supposed to be your patient. He's not supposed to threaten your so-called relationship with your lifetime partner, Jeon Jungkook. You're not supposed to love him—you shouldn't be able to.

→ pairing/rating: yoongi x reader | PG-15

→ genre: 97% angst, 3% fluff | dystopian!au 

→ warnings: profanity, making out, implied sex, infidelity (kind of?), blood, death, hyperventilation, depictions of a seizure (oc works at a hospital so), mentions of the afterlife, descriptions of getting shots/needles, a character has a missing leg (poor bby)

→ wordcount: 17.7k

→ a/n: this is loosely inspired by the great lois lowry’s the giver. i grew up reading that book omg 😭😭🥺and writing this fic was sO fun bc if i had to choose a dystopian society to live in for the rest of my life, it would HANDS DOWN be this one

cr.

It's over.

Thank goodness, it's over.

It's easily the worst part of the job. The transport room is painfully white and frighteningly silent. The only comfort you have is your ocean linen hand soap that sits loyally on the side of the sink. You pull off your latex gloves slowly, tossing them in the trash and turning on the warm water to wash your hands. The familiar, sea breeze scent punctures the room, soothing your jittery nerves. It seems to warmly congratulate you for orchestrating another successful transport.

Thank god. You won't have to do the procedure for another few weeks.

You make a bee-line toward the hospital closet, quickly shrugging off your spotless lab coat and pulling on your worn-out, fuzzy sweater. Already, you're feeling a bit better just being in your normal clothes. Professional attire makes you feel solemn and serious. You hate it.

But other than having to do the procedure in the transport room quite often, you enjoy your assigned career.

The procedure is only inevitable, you suppose, as you start to walk home from your career unit. Jungkook, your assigned partner, isn't waiting for you today, so he must be at home, making dinner. You begin to fast-walk before you accidentally break curfew a second time—the first time was embarrassing enough.

But to keep your mind busy and away from shutting down due to boredom, you reflect back on the day's work.

It's definitely not easy being a nurse, but you take the job with immense pride. Because without you, no one would be able to get to Everland. When you'd first received your career assignment, the Council had proudly told you that you were the very bridge between the society—Tagna—and Everland. They told you that you should take your assigned career with pride.

Everland. How do you even begin to explain that place? It's a paradise, they say. The Council tells every citizen of Tagna the general idea, but only you're gifted with the details. They told you that the skies are blue and the sun shines brightly but never too much. It is spring all year round in Everland. The land boasts serene nature and lakes that stretch across the grassy lawns. The homes are built from cedar wood and are sturdy against the whispering breezes at night.

Of course, you've never seen Everland for yourself. In fact, the Council makes it very clear that no one who has been to Everland has come back to Tagna. You suppose if you lived in paradise too, you wouldn't want to leave.

Some are transported to Everland earlier in their lives; you've worked with a handful of newborn babies, young children and even teenagers. Others are transported later, after thoroughly experiencing the structured and well-disciplined society of Tagna; there were more adults, grandmothers and grandfathers who you transported to Everland. But in the end, every person in Tagna—yourself included—would earn a chance to visit Everland themselves. It's just a matter of time... and luck.

As a nurse, it's up to you to take care of the patients. You're supposed to talk to them, keep them company, comfort them, be their closest friend—until it's time for them to be transported. The transportation is also part of your job, but the least favorite part for you.

Maybe you hate the procedure and going through with the transport because you get quite attached to your patients—you don't want them to leave. But maybe... and deeper inside you, you hate the procedure because you're jealous.

You can't deny that you want to experience this Everland. You've come close to the paradisiacal land more times than any other citizen of Tagna. But the Council seems to be intent on keeping you in society so you can serve those in need.

Goddamn. Every time you step into that small, white room, every time you put on your latex gloves, you wish it were you, sitting in the hospital bed, instead of your patient.

When your assistant rolls in the medical cart with supplies, you can't help but spend an extra few seconds gazing longingly at the clear serum in the syringe. The sharp, pointed needle glints in the white light, which brings a small, sad smile to your face. That's the serum that puts your patient to sleep—well, physically. Their minds are already flying through dimensions, zipping past other worlds to land in Everland. Their bodies will follow suit later.

It's unsettling though. You hate how the clear liquid disappears through the skin the more you press the pad of your finger on the plunger of the syringe. There is also an unspoken agreement with all the people in the room to stay absolutely silent. The silence is unsettling to you.

Very rarely, your patient has to be strapped into their seat. But it becomes quite obvious when you're tending your patient before the transport whether they'll need a strap. You assume the shot isn't too painful, judging from the majority of the reactions of your patients. But you're not really sure. And it's not your job to know. The Council is extremely strict about assigned careers.

Sometimes, it's unsettling to watch your patient fall asleep. Their eyes begin to flutter rapidly and their limbs become limp, their head lolling to the side. As a tradition, you have to walk towards your patient, your shoes clacking against the white floor. You hold their hand and speak your last goodbyes.

"Remember the lines we rehearsed? The ones we went over every day, honey?" you say every time.

There's always a mixed response from the patients. Sometimes they nod, sometimes they shake their heads. Other times, they don't even answer you—when the serum works too quickly and they're already halfway crossing dimensions in their minds. It usually doesn't matter. You recite the rehearsed line yourself.

"For us and for Everland."

On good days, your patient says the line with you; it's their very last words before they would leave Tagna forever and enter Everland. When their body goes slack and their eyes close, you have to double-check their pulse—for the transportation to Everland is not possible with a beating heart. The injected serum is merely a catalyst that will help your patient transport to Everland. And once the patient's mind is already at Everland, their body will follow, and they will wake up in paradise.

The unsettling feeling does not leave until some of your assistants enter the room to roll your patient's hospital bed away. You always give them a nod of acknowledgment but you never speak to them—just in case any loud noise might disrupt your patient's safe travels.

Every transport procedure drains you. But Jungkook's always waiting for you somewhere, waiting to replenish your energy and shower you with attention. He's always insisting that you take a rest, which, in his language, means to go on a lunch coffee date with him. But you're usually too busy to accept.

You manage to reach your house unit before curfew, opening your door and nearly collapsing on the living room couch.

"Sweetie?" you hear Jungkook calling you from the kitchen. It takes you a moment to realize he's cooking spaghetti, which makes you lift your head gratefully.

"Yeah?" you say.

"Are you tired?" he calls. "I made spaghetti, but I can wrap it up for you so you can have it for breakfast tomorrow if you want to sleep."

"No, no, it's fine," you say, heaving yourself up from the couch and stumbling into the kitchen. "I want to eat dinner with you."

Jungkook smiles brightly. Normally, you leave him to eat his meals by himself. "Did something good happen today?" he asks as he pulls out the chair for you and places two still-hot bowls of spaghetti on the table.

"Not really," you shrug, sitting down and grabbing your fork. "It was normal as work goes."

"How was the transport, then?"

"Routinely," you say, stuffing a forkful of spaghetti in your mouth. "Mm, this is good, Jungkook," you hum, swallowing. Jungkook beams at your compliment. "The patient was a grandmother, and she recited the lasting line with me, so that was good."

"For us and for Everland?"

"Yeah." You nod.

You like it when Jungkook discusses work with you. Because in your opinion, your career units are the only thing the two of you have in common. Which was the whole point of assigned partners, anyway—to match people up according to their career units. The Council says it makes couples more compatible. You're indifferent.

It's silent for the rest of dinner. Jungkook knows you don't like to come home to small talk after doing it for work all day. And you don't find it interesting when Jungkook starts to go off in tangents about the new baseball lineups the Council approved of. You do the dishes while Jungkook clears off the table and cleans the kitchen floor.

The chores are habitual, making you feel almost like a robot as you complete them every day. When the last dish is in the dishwater, you turn to Jungkook, who just came back from taking out the trash. "Jungkook?"

"Yeah, sweetie?"

"Listen, I've been meaning to ask you..." you trail off. Your partner smiles hopefully at you. "Where do you roll my patients off before their bodies are transported? I mean... I guess what I'm asking is, do you get to see Everland? Is there a portal or something that leads there?"

Jungkook sniffles, scrunching his eyebrows in thought. You can tell by the slight crease on his forehead that he's disappointed there's going to be another work-related conversation.

"We're just told to put them in a white sack. Maybe that's the portal you're talking about? I'm not sure where they go, sweetie," he says. "We just do these extra check-ups so we know they're in good condition to transport. Then we set them in another room. I guess someone else does the rest." He pauses. "But I don't think I was supposed to tell you all that. Y/N, you know the details of our assigned careers have to be kept confidential."

You sigh. "Yeah, I know... Still, though. What does it matter? We work in the same career unit. There should be no secrets!"

"I think the Council would have something to say to that," Jungkook says. "I just think you want to see what Everland is like because you've been asking me an awful lot of questions about work," he sulks. "We're partners, Y/N... Can we please act like it? Look at Hoseok next door with his partner. And Namjoon too. They always go on dates, and they're already thinking of signing up for kids from the clinic."

You flinch. Assigned partners, you want to remind Jungkook. But you don't. It's not that you hate Jungkook or despise his presence altogether. It's just that you don't love him. Not as much as he loves you, anyway.

But he's loyal and one of your only friends. And he's not too bad of a company.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," you say, reaching out to place a friendly hand on his. "I just... I've been selfish, I know."

Jungkook takes your hand in his, tugging you into his arms.

"I always feel guilty, you know?" you whisper against his chest. "I make Everland seem like this fairytale place. But I don't even know what it's like."

"It's best to trust what the Council says," Jungkook reassures you. "You're better off trusting them than anyone else, right?"

"You're right."

"It's okay," Jungkook whispers, kissing your forehead before letting you go. "Sooner or later, we'll be transported too. Sometimes in moments that we least expect it."

You hum, detecting the melancholy tinge to his silvery voice. "It's your brother, isn't it? How do you think he's faring in Everland?"

"Junghyun?" Jungkook sighs. "He's probably having the time of his life there... It was just so sudden. I didn't even get to say goodbye to him."

"They leave us in the most mysterious ways," you say. "Too bad we lose contact after their transport. I would've loved to see what it's like there."

"Yeah, me too," Jungkook says. "But I want us to leave for Everland together."

Unlikely, you think. "Me too," you say. "Come on, let's get to bed. I have to stay late tomorrow at work. They're giving me another patient on top of Jimin."

Jungkook groans, his hand searching for yours as the two of you make your way into the bedroom. When he finds your hand, he holds it tightly, almost as if he was afraid you'd fade out of sight at any second. "The Council's overworking you, sweetie."

"Or they just think I'm doing a great job," you say, squeezing his hand. "It's okay. I swear I don't mind. He's a good guy, you know, this Jimin. Deserves to be in Everland. He just needs some emotional boost as they all do. And as for the new patient... I don't know what to expect."

"Well, then," Jungkook says. "Tell this Jimin to say hi to my brother for me when he's there."

"Sure thing."

"Sweetie?"

"Hm?"

"Don't work too hard," Jungkook says. "You need some time to relax."

You giggle. "My career is my relaxation! It's fun to meet these people, to talk to them, you know? Granted, half of them don't understand me, but I dunno... I like the process way more than the procedure itself."

"Yeah, yeah," Jungkook laughs, shaking his head, his hand slipping out of yours. "We should wash up," he says, "before the suppressant makes me drop to the floor snoring."

You laugh along with him, tugging your assigned partner into the bathroom. The nighttime routine in there is as practiced as any other routine in your life. Soon, you and Jungkook are lying in bed, side by side. Just like always.

"Sweetie?" Jungkook murmurs, the suppressant taking a toll on him already. He seems to be barely awake.

"Yeah?"

"Try to get home much before curfew, okay?"

Jungkook had freaked out when the patrollers had found you crossing the streets after curfew. He'd been reminding you about getting home earlier for months now. But you never listen to him. Still: "Of course," you say. "I'm sorry for always making you worry."

When Jungkook doesn't answer, you realize he's already knocked out. You let out a deep sigh, turning over to face the small window in the bedroom. It's dark out tonight, with no moon to light up the bedroom even the slightest bit.

Sometimes, you wonder what it would be like if the suppressant worked on you normally as it did for everyone else.

Out of the thousands of citizens of Tagna, it had to be you to be the victim of immunity to the suppressant.

"Jimin! How are you?" you exclaim, closing the hospital room door behind you as you shake a bag of his favorite chips in your hand. "Look what I got you! I might've been late because of that." You laugh apologetically as Jimin giggles, immobilized on his bed.

"I'm fine, Y/N, thank you. No need to worry." But the man shifts uncomfortably, then lifts the bed covers off of the lower half of his body. "Can you help me up?" He nods towards his missing right leg, giving you a rather frustrated look.

"Yes, of course," you quickly say, taking big steps to help Jimin out of his bed and onto his wheelchair. Though the amputation had been successful—the infection didn't spread to the rest of the body—a missing leg left Jimin often irritated and frustrated. "Where do you want to go today?" you ask him, rubbing his shoulders to comfort him.

The man places a hand on top of yours, looking at you pleadingly. "Outside the hospital...?" he says hopefully.

"Aw, Jimin..." you say, crouching down in front of him to take his hands. "You know we can't do that." He knows, but he asks every day, just in case—as if one day, you'll be waiting for him with a different answer other than no.

"I know," Jimin says, squeezing your hands. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," you tell him. "Do you want your blanket, Jimin? You know, to cover—"

"Yes, please." Nodding, you help the man drape a white cotton blanket over his leg. "I want another look around the hospital before I'm transported."

"Sure!" You adjust Jimin's blanket, securing it so it falls over his missing leg. You and Jimin have a wordless agreement not to talk much about it, and you know how much he likes to have it covered up. Jimin's insecure, embarrassed about a missing limb. Especially when before the amputation, he had been a fit, robust figure, always running around and training. "We'll just roam around the hospital and talk."

Jimin smiles. "That sounds good to me. Let's bring the chips too."

You hand the snack to Jimin, carefully checking the room one last time before rolling the man out into the hospital corridor. It's silent as you wheel Jimin in the direction of the left-wing, where there are full-length windows replacing the usual bland white walls, allowing bright sunlight to flood the corridor. It's the only place that gives the otherwise spotlessly white hospital a golden glow. Jimin likes that spot the best; honestly, so do you.

Once you situate Jimin in front of the windows, making sure he isn't completely in the sun, you sit down next to him. (He doesn't like it when you tower over him.) Jimin looks comfortable in his wheelchair, clutching his now open bag of chips and staring out the window with deep admiration.

"Tell me about Everland, again," he whispers, gazing thoughtfully out of the windows. "Please, Y/N."

The sunlight bounces perfectly off the bridge of Jimin's sloped nose, giving his face of beautiful features a sort of rare radiance.

"Everland?" you hum. "What do you want to hear about it?"

"I don't know... If people like me are welcomed there, I guess," Jimin sighs. His gaze flickers to you. "No one I know and admire knows about my amputation—except you. They won't let me contact my friends or family... They're sending me to paradise early because I'm an embarrassment to Tagna."

"Don't be like that." Sure, you've noticed society's outcasts are usually the ones that are transported—the ones with physical or mental disabilities, or just those older in age. But, of course, that just means that everyone should be transported sooner or later. Or maybe these people are the only people that Everland accepts.

Jimin is going at it as if Everland only accepted those rejected from Tagna. You're not so keen on that idea. The Council works hard to protect every single citizen. That would be impossible.

The seated man inhales sharply. "How can I not be like this, Y/N? I feel so useless here, like this, in a fucking hospital of all places. The only way I can even moderately feel like I'm back in society is here, in front of these damned windows where I can actually see the sunlight. Otherwise, I'm stuck in these white-walled rooms with no one to talk to but you. Then I'm forced to run through these health checkups with doctors that never speak to me, even when I ask them questions! At this point, anything is better than this stupid hospital."

"Oh, Jimin..." you say, immediately taking his hand in yours. You can't bring yourself to tell him 'don't be like that,' again. Pure sorrow is held deep in his brown eyes when he looks at you; your heart aches. "Hey..." you whisper, softly squeezing his warm hand. "Remember that thing I always tell you?"

"What thing?" he huffs. You can tell he's a little bit irritated, and you struggle to keep a straight face.

Placing another comforting hand on his remaining knee, you say, "Remember? For us and—"

"For Everland," Jimin finishes for you. "Oh, that thing," he mumbles. "Of course I remember."

You nod, smiling when Jimin grips your hand tighter. "Have you ever stopped to think about what that meant?"

"No, not really, Y/N." Though he's still frowning, he doesn't look as forlorn anymore.

"Well," you say, "we, as a society, will always miss any patient after their successful transport. I remember everyone I've helped to cross the dimensions and go to Everland, so I'm sure your friends and family unit will always remember you as well. You'll be the man who was worthy of being transported into paradise. Think of it like you're doing it for Tagna, to represent our society in a new land. For us."

"And for Everland?"

"It's nice to say that out of respect, you know?" you smile. "I mean, you'll be staying there for the rest of your life, Jimin. Besides, no one ever said anything about you being an embarrassment, Jimin. You're nothing but a hero, a veteran."

The corners of Jimin's lips turn up just slightly as he looks out the windows once more. "For us and for Everland, huh?"

Though he can't see you, you nod. "Everland is the happiest place on what's left of planet earth," you say, causing Jimin's head to whip toward you. "Yeah," you say. "It's a place even better than our advanced society right here. Everyone is equal in Everland too, but you get many more benefits. The skies are this rich, azure blue and the clouds are so fluffy, they say they emulate the sweetest cotton candy. The people there are veterans like you. I can guarantee you that everyone is respected and well-understood. Every home unit has enormous windows that let the sunlight warm up the buildings. The food there is fresh, nurtured straight out of the soil and hand-picked by the dwellers. It's beautiful there because it's spring, all year long..." you trail off.

Jimin stares at you, lips parted and eyes glossy, no doubt daydreaming about this Utopian place just like you are. "Beautiful..." he mutters under his breath. It's like he wants to ingrain this wonderful scene he had painted of Everland in his head, to recite it to himself every so often before his transport.

You sit back, hand still intertwined in his as you let Jimin lose himself in his reverie. It's several minutes later when Jimin finally jolts from his seat, turning to you with an apologetic look on his face. "I'm sorry," he says. "I zoned out."

"No worries," you tell him. "We all do when we think of Everland."

Jimin hums, squeezing your hand, turning to you with the best of his ability (which was how well his chair would let him). "Do you have a partner, Y/N?"

The rather personal question makes you raise your eyebrows in shock, but you quickly make up for it with a small, stifled laugh. Normally, your patients like it when you tell them fantasy stories or when you listen to them talk about their whole life. They very rarely ask about you.

"Uh, yeah, Jimin," you say. "I have an assigned partner."

"What's he like? When were you assigned to him? Do you love him?"

When you raise another shocked eyebrow, Jimin squirms in his seat, releasing your hand. "Sorry... I-I wasn't trying to be... um, invasive. I'm just... I'm being transported before I get my partner. Having one was one of my dreams since I was little. You know, having my very own family unit to come home to after work..." he trails off. "Please, tell me everything about it."

How can you say no to that?

"Don't worry," you smile warmly. "You can ask all the questions you want—I can't guarantee a good answer, though."

"That's fine, Y/N."

"Well then, hmm..." you say. "Um, his name is Jungkook. I'll start with that. Tall, handsome, ungodly fit... Kind, too." You pause, searching for the look of approval on Jimin's face; he looks like he's in bliss, so you continue. "Sometimes, he acts like my assigned mother, you know, nagging at me to take care of myself and being concerned about everything I do... But, at the end of the day, he's my best friend. He tells me not to overwork myself and he tries to take me on dates when they're due. Then he always makes sure I'm back home before curfew. He knows how I let time fly past me at work," you laugh. "Jungkook's a beautiful soul. I'm really lucky to have been assigned to him. It's been about three years, and I can't say I have any complaints, really."

"Do you love him?"

The question catches you off guard. You look at Jimin, who looks so hopeful, so attached to your assigned relationship—as if it were as precious as his own. With that look on his face, you don't know what kind of monster you would have to be to tear that fantasy apart. Your assigned partner is the last relationship Jimin will hear of, the one that will be embedded in his memories when he is transported. It's your job to take care of Jimin. And it's your job to support him emotionally.

You know the answer to that question. You've known it for a while, and for the longest time, you always thought (or hoped) it would change. It never did.

You're not even completely sure what love is, at this point, though the Council had drilled the definition of it in you since you were a little girl. You're supposed to love your assigned partner, so in a way, you feel like you've failed them.

But you let out a shaky breath, catching Jimin's eyes as you beam. "Yes, I love him."

It's a lie.

Usually, you're given one patient to work with at a time; the Council knows to give you some well-deserved lax time. But never have you gotten two patients. Jimin's transport wasn't scheduled for another two weeks, yet they're taking you to meet a second patient today.

You're not that bothered by the news—not as bothered as Jungkook, anyway. You know he's always wanted to lounge around in bed, watching authorized movies and cooking homemade breakfast together. But you insist that you need to take your assigned career seriously.

He can't argue much after that.

You've said your goodbyes to Jimin earlier that day, had a quick snack and waited. And waited. and waited.

The first meeting with a new patient always makes you feel so jittery. You don't know this person at all—you're to never have any personal connections with them. So you always have to figure out their conditions yourself. It's always one of three things: mentally disabled, physically disabled or older in age. At first glance, it's always easy to tell which the patient is.

The patient is always nervous too, glancing at you anxiously, wondering if you would take good care of them as the Council had promised. There's some pressure to make the best impression. Your white lab coat tends to make your patients uneasy, so one day you 'lost' it in the laundry and never wore it again. A fuzzy sweater or a modest t-shirt with jeans usually does the trick.

You straighten out your t-shirt for the hundredth time, checking to see if it was tucked in your jeans correctly and fixing your hair too. Sometimes, you think you probably feel more nervous to meet your new patient than the patient. After all, you'll have to spend as much as time (or more) with this person as with your assigned partner.

When the door to the hospital room opens, you stand up immediately, ready to greet your patient and assistant, Taehyung, who always introduces you to your new patients. But you're greeted with something you're not quite ready for.

"Don't fucking touch me," a menacing voice snarls. The owner of this voice is a rather lean man with messy blonde hair. He practically slaps Taehyung for holding onto his elbow, and even the always-happy Taehyung looks miserable.

You quickly scan the patient with your eyes. Normally, your discernment is quick, but this time, it's hard. Immediately, you're able to rule out old age. If there was a physical disability, it wasn't obvious. You're leaning towards mental disability, though you also get a feeling that it's really not. You're stumped, but you try not to show it.

Besides, your patient already sounds really irritated.

"Hey, Taehyung," you say, offering your assistant a smile. "Who's our lovely patient?"

The patient dramatically rolls his eyes, aggressively pulling away from Taehyung's grip. "Min Yoongi."

"Yoongi!" you say with a happy smile, though you're very much aware that this Min Yoongi is anything but happy. "Come on into your new room! Nice to meet you. I'm Y/N. I'll be your nurse until your transport in several weeks. You turn to Taehyung, nodding. "Thank you."

"Yeah, no problem. Good luck," Taehyung says before hurrying away.

It's possible that Taehyung's busy and that's the reason behind his sprint away from you and the new patient, but something tells you that it's something else. And that 'good luck' sounded more like a warning than a cheerful goodbye.

Your eyes meet with Yoongi's. They're hard, black and cold. Almost like they can pierce through your soul.

"So, Yoongi," you say, "are you excited about going to Everland?"

It's the best way to start off the first conversation with any patient. They enjoy talking about Everland—and if they don't know much about it, they beg for you to tell. It works every time.

Except not today.

Yoongi scoffs, collapsing on his hospital bed as he turns to face you, cocking his head haughtily. "Why would I be excited?" He sounds like he's accusing you of spreading false lies.

But you don't back down. "Oh, I'm sorry. Maybe excited isn't the right word. I guess I meant you're looking forward to it?"

"No, I'm dreading it. Terrified. Fucking disgusted and filled to the brim with overflowing trepidation."

"W-What?"

"Whatever. Just leave, Y/N. Come back when it's time for me to be 'transported' or whatever the shit the Council calls this."

Never have you dealt with a rude patient. They're all usually very understanding and kind and most of all, respectful. You're taken aback, but you're not one to say no to a challenge.

"Yoongi, do you need someone to talk to?" you ask in your softest voice. "Hey, I'll listen to anything. Really. If you're that 'filled to the brim with overflowing trepidation,' then you can tell me. I'll listen."

"What makes you think I trust you?" It's another challenge, the way he utters it. Yoongi crosses his arms over his chest and raises a daring eyebrow at you.

You swallow your pride, keeping an unfazed, neutral look on your face. "Everything you tell me here, stays in here, Yoongi. You have my word."

"You could be lying through your teeth right now," Yoongi snorts. "Could you be any more artificial? You're giving me a headache, all right? If you're going to be so ersatz with your emotions, I reckon you leave."

Me? Give him a headache?? And not the other way around???

You've had enough.

"I don't think you want me to leave," you say slowly and firmly, crossing your arms and staying rooted to your spot.

"And why would you think that?" Yoongi cocks his head, his bangs falling over his eyes as he does so. He makes no effort to sweep it away. For some reason, that ticks you off even more.

"Loneliness," you say. "You'll get sick of being cramped up and alone in this white-walled room. The only artificial thing here would be the lights—and trust me when I say if you stay here alone, you can say goodbye to natural sunlight until your transport. If you claim that you don't find loneliness even in the tiniest bit of solitude, then I think I might have to ask you to leave for being... what was it again? Ersatz with your emotions."

You haven't left eye contact with the patient.

And you start to become jittery again when complete silence follows after your passive-aggressive speech.

Until: "Damn. Didn't think you had that in you."

"What?"

"I have to give you credit for that," Yoongi shrugs. "Maybe you won't be completely annoying after all. Maybe you'll be bearable."

You let out air through your nose. "Thanks?" You shake your head in disbelief as you sit next to him on his bed.

"You're welcome, I guess."

A small giggle escapes from your lips, then a louder laugh.

Yoongi looks at you as if you sprouted devil horns on your head.

"Sorry—" you manage to say in between giggles—"if the Council saw me being this mean, I'd have to say goodbye to my job."

"You call that being mean?" It's Yoongi who laughs this time. "You're going to have a hell of a time with me, then."

You leave your home unit early for the first time—without Jungkook having to shake you awake—to buy some snacks for your patients. (Though you know Jimin's favorite foods, you end up having to take a wild guess for Yoongi.)

Jimin had made you promise to meet you as early as your schedule allowed it. You don't mind. Hanging out with Jimin is relaxing, especially because he lets you blabber on and on about your personal life. Today, he wants to hear about your assigned career.

"The Council assigned me as a patroller, you know," Jimin says, leaning back proudly in his wheelchair. "I would've been a hell of a good one too... If it weren't for the infection." He sighs, staring at his foot with scrutiny. "It's okay," he shrugs. "What about your career?"

"Hm," you say, looking outside the window where the morning sunshine catches your eye. "Well..." you hum, voice soft and eyes glazed over. "I'm a nurse." Jimin waits for you to continue. "But I have to admit, I didn't really like my assigned career at first. Why be a nurse when you can be a doctor, a surgeon, perhaps?" You give Jimin a small smile. "As a little girl, I always wanted to be in that operating room, you know, operating and saving lives."

"That's honorable, Y/N." Jimin gives you an approving nod, placing his hand on yours to tell you to proceed.

"But I guess the Council thought I'd be a better nurse," you say. "And now, I think they're right. I mean, they always are. Besides, I wouldn't last two seconds in a cold, quiet operation room. I need to talk to people, you know? Take care of them, tell them stories, help them transport. I think I value the presence of people, along with their happiness." You shrug. "I dunno. I do dare say that I'm pretty good at making people happy."

Jimin laughs softly. "There's no other career that would've fit you better." He turns his body fully so that he's facing you. "Y/N, I really don't say this often, but I'm glad you're my nurse. Thank you." Jimin looks deeply into your eyes, something he only does when he's extremely serious. "Hey," he whispers, "I just want you to know that I'm not scared. Everland will be as wonderful as you've always told me. I trust you. And I know I'm in great hands."

He squeezes your interlocked hands for emphasis. "For us and for Everland, yeah?"

"Have you obtained a serious eye infection?"

"N-No," you stutter, wiping your red eyes with the back of your sweater. You quickly set down some snacks on Yoongi's bed and avert your eyes away from him. "I just..."

"Oh," Yoongi says, clapping his hands together. "You've been crying!" he accuses, pointing at your face with a smug smirk. He looks like he could care less, yet he asks, "What happened?"

"It's really nothing," you sniff, sitting down on Yoongi's bed. "They're not sad tears, necessarily."

To your surprise, Yoongi laughs. You look at him with disapproval. "I'm sorry!" he snorts between giggles, "but you wouldn't know 'sadness' if it socked you in the face!" Upon seeing your puzzled expression, he sighs. "Whatever."

Yoongi doesn't push the topic, which is very much like him. You don't mind. It's not like you want to explain crying in front of Jimin, your patient. Jimin has a strange way of making you feel special. And special's a word no one's allowed to be in Tagna—because specialness is the cause of discrimination. But you think specialness makes you feel valuable.

"So," Yoongi starts, tilting his head to look at your curiously, "why are you here?"

This time, you're the one to laugh. "I'm your nurse! I'm supposed to look after you before your transport. You know, talk to you, answer your questions, tell you about Everland."

"Doesn't sound very crucial to me."

Yoongi has a habit of being very, very candid. You tend to mistake his honesty for rudeness, but after a while, you've come to appreciate the truthfulness. He brings out a fun, slightly meaner side of you that nobody else but Yoongi would approve of. You hate to admit it, but you like it.

"Fine then," you say. "What do you suggest we do?"

"I don't know. What do you do with people you know? Not including those in your career unit."

"We..." you trail off, a frown settling on your face. "I don't know any people outside my career unit," you admit. "I mean, unless you count my assigned partner. But then again, I always talk about work with him too." You gasp. "I don't think I have actual friends!"

"Good," he says, which makes you look at him with incredulity. He laughs at your expression, a genuine laugh in which his eyes sparkle with mirth and his lips are tugged into a rather snarky smile. But it's a smile nevertheless. "It's fine, Y/N. 'Cause me too. We can be each other's friends."

"Really? But wouldn't you technically be a career-related friend?"

"But are we going to talk about career-related things?" He gives you a look. "I believe I told you I'm not the least bit interested in Everland. Nor do I care even the tiniest bit how to get there. I surely don't have any inquiries regarding the transport. I'm pretty sure you won't have to worry about being a nurse around me... Though I'll probably appreciate the snacks." Yoongi pauses to rip open a bag of gummy bears. He grins. "My favorite. How'd you guess?"

"I had a hunch." You smile proudly, taking a mental note to buy some more gummy bears for Yoongi in the future. "But wait a minute," you say. "You really want me to be your friend?"

"Definitely not a nurse," Yoongi says. "I can take care of myself, thank you. But you were right. I'd die of boredom if I'm alone. That's where you can step in as a friend." He winks, sorting out the green gummy bears from the other variegated colors and popping one in his mouth. He offers you a red gummy bear.

How'd he guess? You smile, shaking your head as you take his offer. My favorite.

Jimin and Yoongi are polar opposites. If one man is gentle, sensitive and kind, the other is brash, rather presumptuous and most of all, pedantic. It's obvious who is who.

But you're not one to pick favorites. A patient is a patient no matter who they are—at least you try to think so. Your end goal is to make sure you're there for them before they're transported to the all-so-magical Everland. Granted, one acts like your friend and the other, your patient.

Jimin likes to ask you a lot of questions, whether it's an inquiry about Everland or questions about your personal life. He's made you repeat the details of Everland so many times, you're sure he already has everything memorized. But he still asks.

On the other hand, Yoongi doesn't bother to ask questions at all. As a man of his word, he proved from early on that he had no interest whatsoever in Everland or assigned partners or assigned careers or assigned anything. You're starting to wonder if he has any interests at all. In fact, come to think of it, you're not even sure if he's ever left his hospital room.

"Oh, this place reeks," you tease, waving your hand in front of your nose. You toss Yoongi a bag of gummy bears and plop down on the bed next to him. "Do you ever leave the room?"

The man laughs, reaching for the snack. "I don't leave the bed."

You scrunch your nose. "Ew." Yoongi shoves four green gummy bears into his mouth, and you watch with a mixture of disgust and pity. "We need to get you out of here."

"Out of the hospital?" Yoongi asks with a mouthful of gummy bears.

"No, just out of this room," you say. "I mean, you might die from a kidney disease before being transported. Imagine that, the first man in decades to die in Tagna—in this day and age with advanced medicine and technology!"

Yoongi scoffs. "Whatever. Fine, let's get out of here. Not like there's anything better to do outside, though."

"We can get ice cream in the cafeteria," you offer. "And argue about the right way to cut up a sandwich again."

"You monster, you're supposed to cut it in triangles!"

"Yeah, says the one who puts the milk first, then the cereal!"

The bickering continues until you're seated in the hospital cafeteria. By that time, both of you are too tired to carry on with the arguing. So there's a bit of silence as you and Yoongi feast on your ice cream scooped onto large sugar cones. You went for plain vanilla, but Yoongi opted for the most sugary flavor: butterscotch dutch fudge nut with diced marshmallows and a caramel drizzle.

You swear he might get diabetes before his transport if he keeps this up. Maybe you should bring him some healthy snacks next time—kale, avocados, spinach. They're green, just like how he likes his gummy bears, so maybe he'll listen to you and finally have a salutary diet.

But instead of being able to convince Yoongi to start the habit of healthy eating, it all spirals down into another debate.

"It's CAR-amel," you insist.

"CARE-amel," Yoongi retorts, shaking his head. "We've been quarreling for the past hour, Y/N. Aren't you getting tired of it? I've never argued this much in my entire life!"

"But what if that's how this 'friend' thing works?" you say. "Actual friends care so much they disagree on every little detail."

"Then it's very tiring to have friends," Yoongi sighs, taking a depressing lick of the lump of sugar on a cone.

"I agree." A pause. "Did you ever have friends, though?"

Yoongi snorts. "Actually, contrary to popular belief, I did. But that was before I got myself into this mess."

"Mess??"

He shrugs the question off, countering it with another question of his own. "Did you have any friends?"

You tilt your head, but figure it's best to let Yoongi have some space. "Um, yeah. I guess I was pretty well-known in my year. Now I don't really have time for that. Work," you sigh. "But I still enjoy what I do."

"I know you do. You're a good friend, and though I wouldn't know, an amazing nurse," Yoongi grins, shrugging so nonchalantly that you almost miss the complimenting tone of his voice.

You grin back. It had taken you a bit to coax the sweetness out of his cold and collected demeanor, but once revealed, Yoongi could almost parallel Jimin's amenity. "What about you? Did you like what you did before you were chosen to be transported?"

Yoongi's smile disappears in the blink of an eye, a sour frown replacing it. "Not exactly." His stone-cold voice is a sign for you to change the topic, but he continues to speak. "I was good at my career. Liked it at first, too. But I'm a rare mistake, I suppose. Maybe I had some traits within me that the Council didn't catch, or maybe I changed as an adult. The Council deemed my career as a mismatch."

A mismatch... You always thought that was a myth—assigned careers never failed. The Council never made mistakes. You can't even fathom the amount of disappointment that Yoongi probably had felt when realizing his assigned career was a mismatch. "I'm so sorry," you say. "Do you mind if I ask what career unit you were in?"

Yoongi hesitates for so long, you start to think you've crossed the line. But then: "Unit 38. I was in unit 38." He clears his throat and watches carefully for your reaction.

Your eyes widen and your mouth opens, shuts, then opens again. "38?? That's my unit!" you say. "How come I've never seen you before?"

He crosses his legs, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "I suppose I was in the more secluded area of the hospital."

Though you want him to elaborate, Yoongi's uneasy fidgeting sets you off. You're here to make him feel safe, comfortable. As much as you're insanely curious now that Yoongi's avoiding the subject, you shrug. "Oh, that's interesting... Wanna talk about something else?"

When Yoongi shoots you a grateful look, you actually feel glad for changing the topic. It was the right thing to do. As to sate your curiosity...

I'll just ask Jungkook about him later.

"Hey, Jungkook?" you whisper, testing the waters, trying to tell if the suppressant already brought your assigned partner to a deep slumber. You turn around on the bed to face him, and you're glad when he turns around as well.

"Yes, sweetie?"

"Do you know anyone of the name Min Yoongi?" you ask hopefully.

Jungkook crinkles his brows in thought. "Min Yoongi?" he mutters to himself. "Min Yoongi..." He gives you an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, the name doesn't ring a bell."

"It's fine," you sigh, lying fully on your back now and staring up at the dark ceiling. "I just think it's strange the Council would assign me a patient who worked in the same unit as me."

"Really?" Jungkook murmurs. "Unit 38? Why don't we know him?" he asks, tiredness laced into his tone. "Are you sure you heard him right, sweetie?"

"I'm sure," you say. "He did say he worked in the more secluded part of the hospital... And I thought we were in the most secluded area."

Jungkook laughs softly, moving to place his hand on top of yours. "Why don't you just ask him about the details?"

"I didn't want to push him into explaining something he's uncomfortable with," you say. "I'm sorry... I'm keeping you up with all of this, aren't I? You're tired. It's past curfew." You glance over at the digital clock you keep beside the bed. The red, glowing light flashes 2245 hours. It's pretty late.

"It's okay," Jungkook says. "You don't have to be sorry, Y/N," he laughs, but it comes out dry and forced. You can practically feel the worried look on his face. "You took the suppressant today, right?"

"Never gone a day without one," you reply. "You know they don't work on me as well as they work on others..."

"Sweetie, you should tell the Council. I don't want you to get in trouble for acting out of line," Jungkook sighs but it morphs into a wide yawn. "See?" he murmurs sleepily. "Mine works fine."

You stay silent, watching blankly as your assigned partner's eyes flutter shut. Soon, his breathing becomes even, his chest rising and falling steadily. He's asleep, just like that.

The suppressant does a number of things—or, at least, it's supposed to. The Council keeps the full effects of it private, and the only citizens who are aware of the details are the specialists who designed it. It's uniquely engineered to help the average citizen fall asleep an hour after curfew only to wake him up at 0700 hours every morning. Except on Sundays, it's 0800. Every citizen must take one suppressant—a small, white, tasteless pill—every day before he leaves his home unit at precisely 0845 to get to his career or school by 0900 hours.

Untimeliness is definitely not tolerated.

Which is a proven hassle for you. The suppressant doesn't affect you in the same way it does others. You're always waking up and sleeping later than others. Back when you were in school, you'd always be late for your classes. The Council generously took that into account before they assigned your career, though—but not before they scolded you for being tardy to the career ceremony.

Compared to other careers, nurses have a more lenient call time. It works out in your favor because if it weren't for Jungkook, you'd show up to work three hours late daily.

The clock flashes an angry 2300, but you're still not tired.

At least tomorrow is Sunday. Usually, it's the day off for every citizen in Tagna. Jungkook probably wants you to spend the day with him...

But it won't hurt to visit the hospital. Just for a few hours. To meet your new friend. Jungkook won't mind, right?

You smile to yourself. The thought makes you so excited, you aren't able to sleep until 0300.

It's routinely to visit Jimin before Yoongi.

Jimin is becoming increasingly nervous as the days of his departure to Everland are decreasing. He doesn't talk too often when you visit, but you know he finds your presence soothing.

But today, it's eerily silent.

"You okay?" you whisper.

He nods but offers you no words.

"You're worried, Jimin. Trust me, it'll calm your nerves to talk to me. What's got you anxious?"

He looks down at his foot, avoiding eye contact. You let him stall as he collects his thoughts. Then, in the smallest voice: "I... I don't like injections," he squeaks.

"Hey, hey, it doesn't hurt one bit," you say, wrapping a comforting arm around him. "I would know, Jimin. Trust me."

"I don't know," he sighs, fidgeting his hands. "The needle just—" he chokes over his words, shaking his head in shame. "The last time I got an injection, they took away my leg. I'm scared, Y/N. What if I get to Everland without my good leg too? What if they take away all of my limbs?"

Once in a while, you get a patient who's slightly nervous about the injection, but never have you dealt with something as serious as this. "Jimin... The transport isn't a surgery," you say softly. "It puts you to a peaceful sleep so you can be transported safely. It won't hurt one bit. And you definitely won't lose any limbs. You're in safe hands."

Jimin nods, but he looks fragile, back hunched and eyes shaking. It's hard for you to see him in this state. You wish you can do more for him—more than telling him tales of Everland and bringing him snacks and giving him intangible support.

You want to show him Everland.

But how can you? You don't even know where it is.

"You look like you ate dog shit."

You've been waiting for this moment the whole day—you missed the grouchy man and his candid words.

"Hello to you too," you say, wearily plopping down on Yoongi's bed as he shifts to make space.

"Where's your chipper smile today, Y/N?" Yoongi says. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he's worried about you. But he covers it up well with a: "Your frown is very hideous, by the way."

"Thank you."

"No, I mean, I meant to ask, what happened? You look completely miserable."

"It's confidential," you sigh. "You know, about my other patient..."

"What are the fucktards going to do about it when you tell me?" Yoongi snorts. At your appalled face he clarifies, "By fucktards, I mean the members of the Council."

"Yoongi!"

"It's not like they're going to find out," Yoongi shrugs. "Is this other patient giving you a hard time?"

"They could take away my job," you protest.

"Yeah, only if they find out."

"That's true..."

"So?" Yoongi says. "Are you going to elaborate?"

You pretend to think. "Okay, maybe..." You nod. "Yeah, okay. But I have nothing against Jimin, you know, the patient. He's an absolute sweetheart," you say. "Which is the whole problem. He has such big hopes for Everland. And I keep feeding him all of this paradisiacal information, but it's not enough! I want to help him, I want to tell him what Everland's really like, but how can I? How can I speak about something so highly when I've only lived through it vicariously? Oh god, I tell him things he wants to hear, but technically, I'm lying to his face." You pause for breath. "I'm a liar! But he listens to me! He trusts me! I can't bear the thought of him coming face to face with Everland and realizing it's nothing like what I told him it would be! He'd be broken!"

You can't lie, it feels good to let out everything that had stacked up over the past several days.

"Everland is wonderful. I don't want to doubt that. But what if it's not wonderful enough for Jimin? He's different from my other patients, you know? He needs so much more reassuring and love and care... Sometimes I don't think I can give him the best. Should I resign? I can't keep doing this to him. I'll practically die of guilt! Imagine that—in our day and time—a citizen passing away from something incurable! Bullshit!"

"It is bullshit," Yoongi agrees with you right away. "But I think it'll be fine, Y/N. You don't need to resign. And you definitely don't have to worry. You really don't have to." He stares at the floor with a frown etched deeply on his face. "It'll be fine."

"Really?"

The man nods slowly but surely. You can tell he's choosing his next words wisely, which is something he normally doesn't do. Yoongi is a man of rapid-fire and quick reactions. He's prone to blurt out whatever's on his mind. This is the first time you see him be so attuned to your emotions. Maybe he's trying to think of words that'll help you calm down.

"Everland will be unimaginably peaceful," he says, finally looking at you. His dark eyes show no flicker nor hint of playful teasing. He's serious. "Jimin will like it there."

Something about the way he says it makes you believe him.

Mondays are days when you always end up behind schedule. Your body likes to throw away its natural alarm clock out the window Sunday night, so you tend to accidentally sleep in the next day.

Jungkook usually tries to wake you up for work, but half of the time, you don't budge, so he leaves a kiss on your cheek and leaves for his job. The sequence is always vague in your memories.

Curse your immunity to the suppressant.

It's really no surprise when you show up to your job an hour late. You might've also made a little stop to the convenience store for some snacks. Of course, not for you, but for your patients.

Jimin's already waiting for you patiently on his bed. He thankfully doesn't ask any questions when you walk in a bit breathlessly, handing him a bag of his favorite chips.

You plop down on his bed, wiping away the beads of sweat that had accumulated on your forehead. "I'm so sorry, Jimin," you wheeze. "You must've been up for hours. I apologize for making you wait."

Jimin giggles, shaking his head. "What are you talking about, Y/N? I woke up a few minutes ago. Around 1005 hours? You're right on time!"

If he's lying to make you feel better, he's doing a good job at it.

"I don't get a daily suppressant anymore," Jimin confesses. "I'm awake when everyone's asleep and sometimes, I'm asleep when everyone is awake. Sometimes I can't sleep." He sighs, fingers wrapping around the chip bag. "That never used to happen when I took the suppressant."

He sounds lonely. As if the whole world was excluding him from vibrant, festive affairs.

You're supposed to be his solace, but you can't help but say, "Why don't they give you the suppressant?"

"I've asked," Jimin says. "But of course they don't answer. Just some grunts and mumbles that I can barely comprehend."

"That's not very nice of them," you say. "How about this? I promise I'll visit you more often if you're lonely. And to make you feel better, how about I talk about Everland again?"

Jimin nods hopefully, his eyes lighting. You want the best for him, but sometimes, there's not much you can offer him—except your words.

Yoongi is different. He doesn't want your buttered up, sugar-coated words. He doesn't live behind the curtain of fantasy. He lives in reality. Maybe even a bit more than you do.

"The suppressant tends to mess up the injection. Makes the process longer," Yoongi says casually. He rips open the bag of gummy bears. "Which is exactly why they're not given to patients. Why do you ask?"

"No, it's just..." How does he know that? "Jimin wants to take it again."

"Why would he?" Yoongi scoffs. "I always hated waking up early. Now I can sleep through the whole day and night."

"He's lonely."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. He was well-known before he was moved to the hospital. He misses the social life, I think."

Yoongi doesn't answer for a long time after that. When you finally look over at him, you find him staring into his hands with a conflicted look on his face.

"You okay?" you ask, reaching out and putting a hand on his by habit.

The contact makes Yoongi flinch, but he nods. "I'm always okay, Y/N. Why bothering asking?" He grins. His hand feels warm under yours and you make a move to hold it. But he jerks away. "Anyways, you should be going now, right? Time to get my beauty sleep, you know."

You're shocked, leaving his room feeling utterly rejected.

He'd never even told you goodbye.

If the Council finds out you're pulling a disobedient stunt like this, they might just shove you in the jailhouse for eternity. Then you'll be stripped from your career, home unit and assigned partner.

All your life, though, you've been known as the obedient one. If the Council told you to end your service as a nurse by jumping off a bridge, you'd do it.

But sometimes, you suppose you need to take drastic measures.

Your heart thumps loudly in your chest and your palms feel irritatingly clammy in your jacket pocket where a ziplock bag stays stowed away from sight. Every step towards the hospital fills you with dread—it's another step you've survived without having a Council member catch you in the act.

Maybe this is a bad idea. What if they can check your vitals? That would give away the fact that you had neglected to take your suppressant this morning. The white pill sits snugly in the ziplock bag in your jacket pocket.

The plan is simple. You will walk into the hospital like nothing is wrong. You will walk straight into Jimin's room and hand him the suppressant. He will take the pill. It can't be that hard.

Both of you had developed this plan over the course of a week. It would've taken less time to execute it too if you hadn't chickened out three days in a row.

It mostly terrified you that once started, this little illicit project would last until Jimin's transport. It freaked you out even more that the whole thing was a secret between you and Jimin.

You can't credit this idea to yourself, but it wasn't exactly Jimin's either. Both of you had hinted at it, and in the end, it had been officially addressed. So, you can't blame anyone if it fails drastically.

The suppressant has been around for decades. No one in Tagna has lived without taking them for a very, very long time. The Council likes to hint that before the suppressant entered the human body system, humans were fickle, sexual and undeserving beings. You don't think you'll revert back to that, per se.

But you're wary of the possible side effects.

You always told yourself you'd never show favoritism among your patients. But here you are. Sacrificing your suppressant for Jimin. In your defense, he's something else. Someone that will forever be ingrained in your memories. He's the only person who deserves more than what Everland has to offer. Because Everland surely doesn't restore back missing limbs. And that's what Jimin deserves.

Come to think of it, there's a crazy synergy between you and your patients for some reason. Even Yoongi... He understands you in a way no one else has before. Talking to him feels natural, effortlessly easy and fun, too. Maybe it's because he had worked in your career unit—as the Council says, compatibility rates skyrockets amongst those in the same career unit. Or maybe, just maybe, he should've been your assigned partner. Maybe you're a mismatch with Jungkook.

And judging by the way you feel around your assigned partner, you think it might be true. Doesn't easy communication and having fun around someone mean you love them? Isn't that what love is? Isn't that what defines a deep attraction?

But then again, the last time you'd tried to hold Yoongi's hand—which hadn't been a romantic gesture at all—he had tugged away. Ever since that incident, you've been refraining yourself from lightly touching his shoulder or reassuringly holding his hand. Yet if Yoongi had felt awkward from that encounter, he didn't show it.

Now it's been five days since you've stopped taking your suppressant. Ever since the third day, you haven't felt guilty about it anymore. It almost feels natural not to take the pill at this point.

Jimin's been noticeably happier these days as a result. He has two days before his transport, but he's showing no symptoms of intense nervousness. The suppressant seems to be doing wonders for his condition.

That finally puts you at peace.

And regarding the little warning that Yoongi had given you? The one about how taking the suppressant would make Jimin's transport take longer? Jimin didn't mind.

He told you he'd rather be happy, that he didn't mind the wait. It was all it took for you to authorize the plan.

And now look where things are. It's going great.

This is peculiar.

You have no idea when it started, or how it started, or why it started, but you've been noticing the smallest details about Yoongi. The way he eats, the manner in which he talks, the slightly sarcastic tone to his voice when he argues with you... You may not have noticed them before, but you see them now. And it's endearing.

He's endearing.

Every time he smiles at you, your heart beats a little faster and you feel the heat rushing through your face. You can't quite say it's a good feeling per se, but you know it's special. When his hair falls over his eyes, you always have the urge to reach out and fix it for him. You can't even get him out of your head.

You've never experienced anything like this before. You can't exactly say you hate it, but you're not sure if you like it either.

"Hey, Yoongs?" you whisper. Yoongi glances up from reading his latest book you provided him. It's a cheesy romance story and Yoongi openly made a ten-minute rant on why he hates romance, but you just think he's in denial that a little romance is actually really addicting.

"Hm?" he hums.

You're silent, admiring his face before the words tumble out of your mouth. "Did you ever have an assigned partner?"

Yoongi raises his eyebrows. "Oh?" He smirks. "Why are you interested?"

You flush bright pink. "Why can't I just ask a question without having to deal with a deflected inquiry?"

"Because I like being difficult."

"Clearly."

"But to answer your rather invasive question, yes, I had an assigned partner," Yoongi says. "But it was a mismatch. Lovely."

You gape at him. "The Council mismatched your partner and career??"

"Technically, they mismatched my home unit too," Yoongi scoffs. "They failed me, you know. Don't trust those fucktards."

"Maybe you changed drastically during your transition to adulthood?" you reason. "The Council just doesn't make mistakes!"

Yoongi laughs out loud. "Oh, they make a lot of mistakes. Trust me."

Trust me. It's a lot coming from someone you've known for less than a month. You grew up with the Council supporting you, watching you grow, nurturing you and treating you like you were their own daughter. You can't just throw away your trust in the Council because someone you're fond of says so.

"Mistakes? What other errors could there possibly be?" you say doubtfully.

"They should've made their system foolproof," Yoongi laughs. "They should've put a chip in everyone's arm to check their vitals. Now there's no way of finding out who's not taking their suppressant."

You freeze.

Did he know??

"You mean there's barely a difference in action between those who take the suppressant and those who don't?" you ask.

"No, there are a few differences," Yoongi shrugs. "Only a suppressant developer would know, though. Say, Y/N," he smiles, shutting his book and showing you the cover. "Do you know what love is?"

"Love?" you say, raising your eyebrows. "What do you mean? Of course I know."

"You mean you trust the definition of love that the Council gave you."

"Yes? Why wouldn't I? Love. Noun or verb. A deep attraction. Or to feel a romantic connection with someone." The definition slips off your lips easily after years and years of repeating in your head and out loud.

"And," Yoongi drags on, "how do you know you feel a deep attraction to or a romantic connection with someone?"

"If you communicate naturally together? And uh, have fun together?" you say, but it sounds more like a question than a sure statement. You sigh, "Maybe I don't know what love is."

It feels horrible admitting it out loud.

"Maybe because I don't know what it is, I can't seem to love my assigned partner," you say. "That makes sense, right?"

Yoongi laughs. "Love isn't something anyone can control. That includes the Council." He laughs again, casually tossing his book across the room. You gasp when it lands in the trash can. "Every single fucking 'romance' book here is fake—ersatz, if you will."

"What the hell do you mean?" you say, frowning as you try to stand up to retrieve the book.

But Yoongi grabs your arm and you freeze once more. You turn your face the other way as your cheeks start to feel warm.

"Love is something you find for yourself," he says. "Arranged partnerships, forced partnerships, assigned partnerships—whatever the books say—it's not supposed to work. You're supposed to feel something when you're in love. You're supposed to feel bothered. And sometimes, you'll feel a little too warm for your liking. Your stomach will feel weird. Kinda like there are butterflies flying about inside it. You're supposed to care for the person you love, be their friend, their listener. Sometimes, you'll feel like you want to touch them—sexual attraction. You love them so much, you want to know every inch of them—physically and mentally..." Yoongi trails off. "Of course, the suppressant suppresses all of those feelings."

"Oh." It's the only thing you can manage to mutter. How can you say anything else when Yoongi just described almost everything you felt about him?

It explains so much too.

Why so suddenly you'd been feeling so heated around Yoongi. It's most likely you loved him before you stopped taking the suppressant. But it was only revealed after.

"Oh?" Yoongi says.

"I-I don't know," you say, flustered. "All my life... All my life I thought I was supposed to love my assigned partner. But I don't now... And I... I think I love someone else."

Yoongi smiles, cocking his head so that a bit of his bangs fall over his eyes. "Are you sure?"

You mirror his smile. "Yeah," you murmur, taking a deep breath before using all of your willpower to lean in and sweep Yoongi's bangs off to the side. "I'm sure."

"Good," Yoongi says. "So, do tell. Why have you stopped taking the suppressant?"

He's extremely close to you. So much so, when he speaks, you can feel the warmth of his breath on your cheeks. You barely have the capacity to be surprised.

"I... um, I thought I was immune to it," you answer back in a hushed whisper. "So I didn't think it would change anything if I uh, stopped taking it," you lie. "But it was suppressing me and I didn't even know it."

"Still, you feel it now, right?" Yoongi says. "The butterflies in your stomach?"

Butterflies. What a weird way to describe the fluttering sensation rising up your middle to your chest. But you like it.

"Right now?" you say, raising an eyebrow.

Yoongi grins. "I don't know why, but we're attracted to each other, Y/N. Love has a strange way of connecting the people most far away."

"Wait, Yoongi—"

"Blushed cheeks, shy glances, playful touching... Y/N, I think I found out you love me before you did," Yoongi laughs, lying back on the bed triumphantly. "And then when I thought about it, I supposed you weren't too bad. That's when you started to plague my mind—in kind of a good way, too. It wasn't long until I realized I loved you back." Yoongi glances your way. "Am I going too fast? Do you need time to understand?"

"Um, yes!" you say. "Are you proposing that we love each other? But in an unconventional way? A way that the Council doesn't approve of?"

"The Council isn't the law, you know."

"You're right. They're higher than the law."

Yoongi snorts. "They tell you they are," he says. "I like to think that they're control freaks. It'll be fine. I get to escape to Everland or whatever the shit they call 'paradise' anyway."

"I don't even know what to say!"

"Yeah, me neither."

"What am I supposed to do? Believe you? Challenge the Council questions? Start taking the suppressant again?"

"Do whatever you want," Yoongi smiles. "That's how I ended up getting chosen to go to Everland."

"What do you mean?"

Yoongi suddenly leans in, making your breath hitch and the butterflies in your stomach spread their wings in rapid succession. A rippling motion undertakes your inner stomach. Instinctively, you reach out to the man in front of you, softly wrapping your hand around his wrist. He smiles, tugging you close—so close that your noses are almost touching.

"You'll find out if you want," Yoongi whispers. You can feel his warm breath on your lips. The sensation is new, foreign, but the intimacy pulls you in.

His lips finally meet yours in a quick, fleeting kiss so soft that if your whole face wasn't burning, you would've convinced yourself it hadn't happened. Yoongi leans away, looking confident in himself as he glances at you through the bangs that had fallen over his eyes again.

Your heart beats dangerously fast in your chest when your eyes meet his, goosebumps dotting your skin and your lips feeling unusually tingly.

"Do you believe me now?" Yoongi asks.

It's a hard question disguised with easy words. You find yourself struggling to answer, cheeks tinging pink as you look down at your feet.

Of course you want to believe Yoongi. But you can't throw away your belief in the Council and that was that.

Yoongi senses your hesitation and breaks the silence. "Hey."

"Yeah?"

"How about this," he says. "Why don't you go back home to that mismatched assigned partner of yours and see for yourself?"

You hum. Maybe that is a good idea.

You suppose you'll have to see for yourself.

"Jungkook?" you whisper.

"Yes?" he answers in a similar, quiet tone. He grabs your hand from under the bed covers, drawing soft circles on the back of your hand with his thumb. "What do you want to ask this time?" There's a small, teasing lilt to his voice that almost makes you feel bad for planning on dropping such a difficult question on him. But you persist.

"Why do you love me?"

Jungkook momentarily pauses. "We're partners! Of course I love you!"

"No, no," you sigh, shaking your head. "But why. If we weren't assigned partners, would you still love me?"

There's a sudden shift in the covers as Jungkook turns to his side to face you. Judging by the frown etched on his face, he isn't a big fan of your question.

"The Council picked us to be partners, sweetie," he says. "I love you because we have easy communication and we have fun together."

"Is that all love is to you?"

"Do you want me to go ahead and define it, sweetie?" Jungkook asks. "I'm getting worried, Y/N. Why the sudden questions about love?"

"I-I'm sorry..." you say. "But just... don't you feel something? Love makes you feel something."

"Feel?" Jungkook shakes his head. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't you constantly think of me throughout your day? Don't you feel the butterflies in your stomach? Don't you start blushing if I ever say something nice to you? Don't you want to touch me?"

Jungkook's frown deepens. "Why would I have butterflies in my stomach?" he says. "I don't think that would be healthy at all, sweetie. And I'm already touching you, see?" He holds up your intertwined hands.

He doesn't understand.

"Never mind..." you sigh, pulling your hand away from his. "I'll stop bothering you."

"No, explain, sweetie," Jungkook says. "You're not bothering me. I promise."

He will never understand. Not like Yoongi does, anyway. You stay silent, wishing that the suppressant will put Jungkook to sleep. It's better for people like him to stay ignorant.

But just as you thought the long silence indicated that Jungkook was asleep:

"Well, do you love me?" He sounds hopeful, but also so sure you're going to give him the answer he wants.

The question catches you off guard. You desperately want to say yes—to preserve a partnership and prevent Jungkook from pain and sorrow. But maybe it's better for you to tell him the truth. You can't continue what you have with Yoongi when you have an assigned partner. It pains you to say but—

"I don't love you."

"W-What?"

"We're a mismatch, Jungkook. Let's go to the Council tomorrow and file a split."

This is possibly the worst day to proceed with the procedure.

Things have been hectic with the Council pulling you out of your home unit to separate you and Jungkook. Things have been awkward. Jungkook probably doesn't want to speak to you ever again. He's convinced that you broke his heart.

You're convinced that he never truly loved you to begin with.

Yoongi helps you explore a new kind of relationship. The one that sets fire to your insides and seals it with searing kisses. The one that's pretty distracting for your other daily activities.

Jimin sits patiently on the hospital bed with a blanket draped over his missing leg. "I'm excited, Y/N," he says. "Just think! In a few hours, I'll be there! In Everland..."

You nod, silently pulling on your latex gloves.

"I'm so happy, Y/N," Jimin says. "I've never been this happy in my whole life."

"You'll be happier in Everland," you reply, smiling. "You deserve it, Jimin."

"It's all thanks to you," he says. He suddenly sits up, looking at you solemnly. "But I'll miss you, you know that?"

"Oh, Jimin... I'll miss you too."

"Thank you," he says. "Really. For everything."

He's talking about the little suppressant plan. "No, thank you," you say. Jimin was the catalyst to you finally coming to your feelings, after all. "I wish you a safe transport."

When your assistant rolls in the familiar cart with your needed supplies, you can hear Jimin take a deep breath. He must've seen the syringe.

"It won't hurt," you promise, walking over to the cart and holding the syringe carefully. The needle glints in the air.

Jimin gulps. "F-For us and for Everland, right?"

"Right. Now, lie down, please," you say in your most soothing voice. "This is going to put you to sleep. Your mind will start to travel between dimensions to eventually reach Everland. If you want, you can close your eyes too."

You lean in to whisper in his ear, "The process might take longer... as you may know, but the delay won't be hours long, I hope."

Jimin nods. His eyes flutter close and you can tell he's trying to relax his body.

"That's it," you say. "Relax..."

You let Jimin take a few deep breaths. Then you hold out his arm. "Clench your fist for me, please."

Jimin does as you say. Once you can spot a vein on the upper forearm, you tell Jimin the needle will go in. He nods and does not respond, squeezing his eyes shut. Thankfully, his body stays relaxed as you begin to slowly push down on the plunger. You're almost done when Jimin starts to whimper.

He must be scared.

"Just a few more seconds, Jimin," you say. "You'll be fine..."

But his whimpering doesn't cease even after the needle is out of him. You wipe away excess blood with an alcohol swab quickly, pressing a clean cotton ball on his skin and using medical tape to secure it.

Jimin's still squeezing his eyes shut and you notice sweat accumulating on his forehead.

"Jimin?" you say. "It's over, Jimin. Are you okay?"

"I-It h-hurts," he whimpers. "P-Please, make it stop."

"Hurts?" you say. It's not supposed to hurt. No one ever said it hurt after. You don't want to panic; not when your patient is close to a panic attack.

"Please, Y/N," Jimin groans. His body starts to shake and his eyes open in the process. "I-It's hard to b-breathe—"

Your darkest nightmare unfolds before your eyes.

"He's hyperventilating!" you yell, no doubt frightening your assistants. "Jimin, do you hear me? Purse your lips, take a deep breath through your nose and let it out slowly through your lips, okay?? Do you hear me? Jimin??"

Jimin's leg jerks, nearly kicking you. His whole body begins to twitch; you watch in horror as foam starts to gather in his mouth. "Fuck, he's having a seizure! Get me a cushion!"

"Jimin, hang on!"

You turn his head to the side, guarding the edges of the hospital bed so he doesn't fall off. When your assistant hands you a cushion, you carefully place it under his head. "Oh, Jimin..."

All sorts of bad thoughts fly past you. What if he can't get to Everland because he took the suppressant? What if he will never find happiness again? What will happen when the Council finds out? Will they declare my career as a mismatch too?

Right now, all you can do is wait the seizure out. If he's unconscious afterward, it'll be one of two things: he's somehow transporting himself to Everland or he's in need of urgent care.

It's all your fault, it seems. If you hadn't agreed to such a fickle plan, you would never be in this state of agony. A minute flies by and Jimin falls asleep, limp and sweaty. His face is red and there's a puddle of spit with a mixture of vomit by his lips. You have to look away.

I'm so sorry, Jimin.

A new batch of assistants burst through the door and they start to roll the hospital bed away.

"Wait, where is he going?"

They don't answer you. Apparently, they're not your assistants.

"Is he going to Everland??" you try again.

They're silent.

"Is Jimin okay?"

One of them turns around to look at you. Her eyes are cold but she forges a small smile on her thin lips. "He is okay. The transport was successful. The Council has permitted you to go home early."

There is a relief that floods through you. But it feels cold.

You didn't even get to say your proper goodbyes to Jimin. And now he's off to Everland, but only after leaving Tagna feeling intense pain and undergoing great suffering. The last memory you have of him is him unconscious, legless and distressed.

I don't want to go home.

There is no one waiting for you there, now. So you walk solemnly down the unsettlingly white hospital hallway and knock on the door of a familiar room.

"Come in," says an all too familiar voice.

You already feel comforted.

You tell Yoongi everything that happened in Jimin's procedure. His hyperventilating, his seizure and then his successful transport. Yoongi listens quietly to your story but you can tell his mind is someplace else.

When you finish talking, he continues to stare at you, offering no comments or reactions to Jimin's hectic transport. He looks a lot like he's thinking with his brows slightly furrowed and his lips parted.

"Yoongi?"

"Hm?"

"What are you thinking about?"

"Do you want me to be brutally honest?" he asks. You nod, though you're a bit wary of his candid thoughts. "Don't get mad," he warns you. "But I pity you."

You frown. "Pity me?"

"Yes. You, your job, your... life."

"Just because I had a mismatched assigned partner doesn't signal the end of the world," you say. "You don't have to pity me, Yoongi."

"Jimin's gone, Y/N," he replies without skipping a beat. "I do pity you. Jungkook's gone because you never loved him. And I'll be gone too. What are you going to do?"

"This is my job," you say. "I guess we can't all have perfect assigned partners and careers and home units and everything. Besides, Jimin's in a great place now. And you will be too. I'm just helping you get there."

Yoongi's silent. He stares at his hands then he stares back up at you. Then, he sighs.

"Do you want to know why I'm here?"

You frown. "What do you mean?"

"You've been wondering, right? Why I'm not physically nor mentally disabled. Why I'm not an elderly man, either. I'm a strange case, aren't I? You weren't supposed to get another patient for a while longer, but you ended up having to take care of me and Jimin. Don't you want to know why?"

"I mean, of course I do. It's just very sudden that you're—"

"I'm a criminal."

Your heart drops in your chest.

"You're a what?"

"A criminal."

"W-What...? Why aren't you in a jailhouse? A-Are you sure you're a criminal? Why would they allow you to go to Everland?"

Yoongi nods, laughing bitterly. "It's all a part of the Council's masterplan."

"What the hell are you saying?"

"The Council likes order. They like normal. They can't accept people who are different. They can't possibly house the citizens who would disobey their orders," Yoongi says. "So they ship the different ones off to Everland."

"Because Everland accepts and loves everyone for who they are!"

"No, so they won't be a disgrace to Tagna," Yoongi snorts. "My brother had Aspergers," he continues. "But they didn't find out until way later. He liked the routinely ways of the Council and tried to conform. But he was still different. Social interactions were hard for him—so hard that the Council found out that he's different. The next thing you know, he's shipped off to the hospital so they could 'treat' him and I never saw him again."

"They took him to Everland," you say.

"I know they did. I didn't find out until later," Yoongi says. "Because I invented the drug."

"What??"

"The syringe you use for every patient, right? I invented the serum inside it."

"H-How?"

"What do you mean, how?" Yoongi says. "It made it easier for the Council. Less chaos."

It makes sense. When you were training to be a nurse, everything had been a pilot-run because the transport system had been revamped.

"I didn't think they would use the drug that way..." Yoongi says. "I thought they'd use it on the criminals in the jailhouse..."

"Why would they give that to the criminals in the jailhouse??"

"You and I, Y/N..." Yoongi trails off. He looks into your eyes, almost as if he was pleading you to believe him. "We're murderers."

You stand up from his bed. "What did you say?"

When Yoongi stands up and takes a step towards you, you step backward, nearly stumbling over doing so. "Listen to me very carefully, Y/N," he pleads. "That drug... it stops your vitals."

"No! It puts you to sleep! Then your mind starts to travel across dimensions!"

"Don't you understand?" Yoongi says. He grabs your arm. "Everland is death."

You fall to the floor.

"They burn the bodies in the basement of the hospital," he continues. "You thought Tagna was such an advanced society there was no such thing as death?" He laughs scornfully. "Y/N, the Council believes Tagna is so advanced, it's permitted to kill their own citizens to preserve equality and likeness. And when the neighboring societies attack, they'll release the gas-version of the drug and kill everyone—even the citizens of Tagna if they have to."

"That can't be true..." you whisper. "Yoongi, I can't do this." You bury your face in your hands. "Neighboring societies? A cemetery under the hospital? I've been living under a rock."

"The only society we know the name of is Atna. They're curating a selection of their best and most intelligent citizens to destroy us," Yoongi says. "That's all I know. I helped design the gas serum that would make them drop dead like flies. Until I threatened to quit and release the gas in the Council's chambers."

"You quit because you knew they killed your brother."

"Exactly that," Yoongi says. "See, it isn't so hard to understand. And now I'm here, a threat to society, apparently. After everything I've done for them, too. Even fixed up the suppressant by request..." He pauses, watching you tremble on the floor. He kneels down next to you, patting your back. "Hey... do you believe me?"

"I killed him..." you breathe shakily. "I killed Jimin... And I made it worse by letting him take the suppressant... A-And it reacted badly with the serum... I killed seventy-eight people... Oh, fuck! And I have to kill you!" A broken sob leaves your lips as your huddle into a ball. "You're right, Yoongi. I'm a murderer..."

"You were forced to do it. And you didn't know," Yoongi soothes. "The Council are a bunch of vile fucktards, Y/N. They're the real murderers. Not us."

"What am I going to do?" you sob. "I can't continue on, Yoongi. I want to resign."

"If you resign, they'll kill you too."

"Maybe death... maybe Everland will be better than this," you whisper. "What's the point anymore, Yoongi? When I'm old, they're gonna kill me too."

"Let them. There's no use fighting it. Either way, you'll end up dead. Like me."

"I can help the other citizens of Tagna," you say, wiping away your tears and gritting your teeth. "I can free them from the Council's restraints. Maybe we can leave Tagna altogether and see if there are other societies to live in. You can tell me where they keep the gas! That could be really helpful."

"No, Y/N," Yoongi firmly says. "Let the others live in bliss."

"What?? Why?"

"I don't want to be a hero. Think about how complicated things will be if you were to go against the Council," Yoongi says. "It's not worth it because you'll lose."

"So you're going to let me kill you?"

"Everland is better than Tagna, don't you agree?"

There he goes again, answering your question with another one of his.

"You've accepted your fate."

"I have. You should accept yours too."

"I have no fate," you scoff. "I'm someone the Council chose to become a licensed murderer."

"Your service helps those poor people escape their suffering."

"Yeah, without their permission."

"You shouldn't have declared your assigned partner as a mismatch to the Council," Yoongi sighs. He rubs his forehead in a conflicted way and gives you a sideways look. "I'm leaving in five days, you know. I don't want you to be alone. Mismatched or not, he was your friend."

"Five days..." You run your fingers through your hair. "That's such little time."

"We'll spend it together."

"How?" you challenge. "How would I? I'm not supposed to feel love, Yoongi. They'll notice something suspicious if I'm always here with you."

"They'll think you're being a good nurse," he answers. "Come on, Y/N," he says, taking your hands in his. "As your patient, I demand you stay over with me tonight. The other days... you can do whatever you want. I just... I want your company today."

After everything you learned now, you need Yoongi's presence too.

So you nod, crawling into bed with him. He tells you light-hearted stories of fictional societies that might exist in the barren world until you fall asleep.

You confess.

This morning, when you woke up, you swiftly got out of the hospital bed, swept away Yoongi's bangs from his face and gave him a silent goodbye (you didn't want to wake him) before walking out of the hospital. You go straight to the Council. And you admit you haven't been taking the suppressant. You admit that Jungkook isn't a mismatch as you had thought he was—you were without your suppressant and you weren't thinking straight. You tell them that you deserve whatever consequence they will bestow upon you. That you're sorry (though you aren't). And you regret messing up Jimin's procedure (which is the truth).

They are generous to you. Only because they love you like their daughter. Only because you have such a highly held job.

The Council doubles your suppressant intake and declares your curfew will be stricter. But they will move you back to your original home unit and reassign you to Jungkook. They lie to you. They say he loves you very much. You lie right back to them. You say you love him too.

Then, you bargain with them. You ask if your current patient may have an extension date until their transport, explaining that it's hard for you to convince him that Everland is a paradise. You tell them that he repeatedly tells you that he is afraid of Everland. It's a lie. But the Council will make something of it because they don't know you know the truth. In the end, you manage to convince them to authorize a three-day extension.

Now you have a week left with Yoongi. Less time than you'd like, especially with your stricter curfew. But it's more than what you had before.

Your next step is to apologize to Jungkook, hoping he doesn't take your declaration that you were a mismatch too personally. He is nothing but a victim to you, at this point, you realize. You would never know if he truly loves you or not—only ditching the suppressant altogether would tell. And it's not his fault that you don't love him back.

But the Council must've told Jungkook that you weren't in your right mind when you filed a split with him because he welcomes you back with open arms.

"I missed you," he whispers, tugging you into a tight hug.

"Me too," you say, hugging him tighter. It isn't a lie either. "I'm sorry," you say. "I'm really, really sorry, Jungkook." That's the truth.

"The Council told me what happened. I'm sorry about Jimin's transport, sweetie," he says. "Please don't make me worry again, though." He pulls you back and looks at your face, studying your features with what reflects on his eyes as admiration and care. "Please take your suppressants."

"I will," you tell him.

"They're making me monitor you," Jungkook says. "But just promise me, that you'll take the suppressant."

"I promise."

It's a lie.

Every day, you leave your home unit for work just like any other day in your life. But every day, you pretend to take your two suppressants in front of Jungkook, but when he isn't looking, you crush them, dissolve what's left of them in water and flush the solution down the toilet. And then you spend the rest of the day—up until your curfew—with Yoongi.

The two of you try to pretend everything is normal. When, of course, everything is not. But it helps to imagine everything is all right.

"What if Everland exists?" you whisper, poking at Yoongi's chest as he reads his mystery novel. "And when you die, you actually go to Everland?"

"I'll find out in a couple days for you," Yoongi says, setting down his book and quirking a teasing eyebrow at you.

So much for ignoring his impending death.

"I'm more worried about you after I leave," he says. "Don't you ever wish I never told you about what Everland really was?"

You hum thoughtfully. "I don't know. Haven't thought about it much... I guess I'm a bit peeved you forced all this information on me," you tease. "But I think I like knowing the truth, overall."

"Well, that's a relief," Yoongi grins. "Don't wanna piss off the person who's dealing with my transport."

You shouldn't have, but you laugh. "We're really getting into the dark humor, aren't we?"

"We are," Yoongi agrees. "And we'll continue while it lasts."

"How long do you think it'll be until I meet you in Everland—if it exists?"

"Maybe like what, fifteen? Twenty years later? You're still young, Y/N," Yoongi tells you, poking at your cheeks. "You still have baby fat, love."

"I-I do not!" You flush a brilliant shade of red. Something about Yoongi calling you love... You wish you could cherish this feeling forever. Lock it up somewhere and go back to relive it over and over again.

"It's okay. I like the way you look," he says proudly. "Even if you were ugly—which you aren't—I would still love you. Because—" he pauses dramatically—"love makes you see past physicalities."

"Clearly," you joke, gesturing at Yoongi's face and subsequently earning a playful shove from him.

"Do you think we're doing the right thing, though?" Yoongi suddenly asks. "What if we just... run away?" He hums, grabbing your hand and tugging you to his chest, earning a little yelp from you.

"Run away?" you say in a hushed whisper. "That's preposterous!"

Yoongi laughs. "I know, I'm just joking. Imagine if we ran away only to find a post-apocalyptic world outside of Tagna. What if one of us dies? Then what about the other? Or what if we meet the crazy Atnatians? I was totally joking. To run away would be akin to a death wish. Only more drawn out and torturous."

"Yeah, I figured," you huff, turning your body towards Yoongi to frown at him disapprovingly.

He just snorts. "You didn't sound like you had it figured."

"You are very, very difficult."

"I know," he says. "But sometimes, you are too."

"Hey! You—"

You're cut off when Yoongi pulls you in by the waist for a kiss. It's one of those searing ones, where your whole body tingles at the feeling of his warm lips moving against yours. Your hands helplessly splay against his chest as his free hand caresses your cheek. When he carefully flips you over, your legs sandwiched between his thighs, he pulls away from your lips, a bit breathless and winded. And the moment his softened eyes meet yours, you realize this is more than what it seems—the road to passionate lovemaking. In reality, it is a desperate goodbye.

Before tears can well in your eyes, you tug Yoongi in by gripping the collar of his shirt, crashing your lips on his. You want to forget, but everything becomes a reminder that he will leave you in two days. The way he grips at your thighs, the way he spares extra time to memorize every inch, explore every crevice of your body—it's all painful to digest that this might be the last time... Everything he does to you might be the last. You hate it.

But you have to live in the moment.

There's something about Yoongi's movements tonight that reveals his true feelings. You can feel how much he loves you tonight—not from the butterflies in your stomach, but from Yoongi, himself. It's like he's cherishing the moment, so it can last well in your memories.

The Council likes to preach that equality is what drives society to succeed. Everyone must be equal, dress equally, live equally, even die equally (though that's disguised as a simple transport to Everland)—all to ensure that everyone is satisfied with the justness of the system. You disagree. It is unfair.

You feel wronged. Stripped away from the greatness of the life you could've had. But there is a small part of you that is grateful. If things hadn't turned out the way they had, maybe you would've never felt love. Maybe you would've been stuck in your career unit, working as a slave to the Council as they brain-washed you without knowing the truth. You wouldn't have met Yoongi.

In comparison to the truths you've unveiled and the pure bliss you've felt with Yoongi, it's a small price to pay. In the end, you'll have to transport Yoongi to Everland. And then you will go back on with living your life as a citizen of Tagna. Jungkook will do everything in his power to make you fall in love with him. Maybe you will; maybe you won't. The far future is hazy and thinking of it hurts your head.

You'll figure something out, though. You always do.

Finally, you've accepted your fate.

The procedure room is unbearably cold.

Your hands shake as you pull on your latex gloves, and you have to take deep breaths to steady yourself, to convince your assistants that this is like any other normal transport. Except it's not.

"Why are you more nervous than I am?" Yoongi laughs, sitting up on his elbows on the all too familiar hospital bed.

You turn around and shoot him an ungrateful look. "Stop it," you hiss. "I'm trying to concentrate."

"Yes, nurse," he says sarcastically, saluting to you.

You bite your lip so you won't break out in a grin in front of the assistants. Shaking slightly, you turn to the medical cart where the syringe lies, the needle gleaming at you dangerously. You've touched seventy-eight shots, but you can't seem to grab this one, no matter how hard you try.

Finally, you let out a big sigh. "Can all of you leave, please?" you say. "Sorry, not feeling well today."

Thankfully, your assistants are obedient. There's shuffling as they move out of the room, and soon, it's only you and Yoongi left.

"Alone at last," he says, smiling.

"Not so happy you invented that horrible serum, now are you?" you say, frowning.

Yoongi shrugs. "Depends on the wielder of the serum. In this case, I'm satisfied."

With a huff, you snatch up the syringe and hold it out in front of you. "So this is it, then?"

"I suppose it is, love."

Your heart sinks. "I don't know if I can do this, Yoongi."

"Sure you can," he urges you. He grabs your wrist, pulling you close under the upper half of your thighs hits the edge of the medical bed. "Find the vein, insert the needle and you'll be done."

"It's not as easy as it sounds," you say. You stare at the man, a frown etched on your forehead. "I'm going to miss you."

"I'll miss you too," Yoongi replies. "Come here," he says, pulling you in to plant a sweet kiss on your lips. Something tells you it will be the last one.

"Okay. Okay," you whisper to yourself. "Lemme just find the vein and—" you nearly choke on the heavy feeling at the back of your throat. "I-I just have to insert the needle... press the plunger... Fuck," you curse.

"You can do it. I'll be here, watching you," Yoongi says, giving you a shit-eating grin.

"Thanks. That helps."

"Aren't you going to ask me for my last words, love?"

"No," you say, taking a deep breath and inserting the needle into Yoongi's upper forearm. He doesn't even flinch.

"Why not?" he asks.

"Because," you say in your trembling voice as you begin to press on the plunger, slowly and carefully. "Because," you repeat, "I don't want you to say the lasting line. It's bullshit."

"I had another line in mind."

"Really?" you say. When the plunger doesn't move further, you close your eyes in shock, even disbelief. You fumble to stop the blood from seeping out, quickly cleaning the mess with an alcohol swab and taping a cotton ball to the small wound. There is care laced in your actions, and your fingers linger on his arm.

"Yeah," Yoongi answers, his voice softening. His eyes begin to droop as the serum begins to work on his body. "I love you, Y/N."

"Oh, Yoongs..." you let out a choked sob, grabbing his hand. "Please don't—"

"I'm not done yet," he manages to breathe. He tries to look into your eyes, attempting to grin at you, but his lips don't move at his will. "F-For you and for me..." he trails off. "Because..." he takes a short pause to swallow, "E-Everland is bullshit a-and 'us' should only c-consist of... of y-you and... me."

"Yoongi..." you whisper, squeezing his hand. "I love you too. For you and for me... Yoongi?"

And when there is no sarcastic response, you know he is gone.

Except he's not traveling through dimensions to get to Everland. He's dead. And you don't know what happens when you die.

You can't bear to look at him. So you let go of his hand, turning your back to his body. On cue, your assistants flood into the room. You duck your head to wipe your tears and let them roll his unconscious body out of the room. When you get a short glimpse of his face, you find that there's a faint smile on his lips. You exhale a breath you didn't know you were holding.

As long as he was happy...

And with the way he was cracking jokes just seconds before his death proved a lot. If Yoongi is—was—okay with it, then so are you.

You bid him a final goodbye in your head.

Something switches inside you. A boiling, bubbling feeling. You can’t quite describe it, but it’s intense, making your body tingle from head to toe.

With vehement steps, you walk out of the hospital and straight into the Council. Standing before the Council members, you smile at them angelically.

"Good afternoon, Y/N," they chorus.

"Good afternoon, Council," you say.

"What are you here for today?" one of them inquires.

You look at him, "With all due respect, sir, I just want to have a little wish granted."

"A wish?" another member says incredulously.

"Yoongi. Formerly held a career in unit 38. Deceased. Don't burn his body in the basement under the hospital. Bury him, please. Properly. Give him a coffin and a tombstone and everything. He's done a lot to advance Tagna hasn't he? It's the least you can do."

And before any of the Council members can react, you march away, down the streets and into your home unit.

Confronting the Council and demanding justice from them felt refreshing. Your suggestion might actually be taken, or you might be taken to the jailhouse. You're not sure which. But whatever it is, it won't matter. All you can do now is wait until your time of death comes.

"Y/N? Sweetie?"

Jungkook.

"How was the transport?" your assigned partner says, rushing to greet you with a hopeful smile on his face. "The Council told me they gave him an extension for his transport date because he was so nervous. Did it go well?"

You smile. "Yeah... It was... good. Peaceful. Eye-opening, too."

"That's great!" Jungkook exclaims. "Did he say the lasting line?"

I love you, Y/N. For you and for me. Because Everland is bullshit and 'us' should only consist of you and me.

The saddest... but most content part of your life in just three sentences. Tears begin to well up in your eyes, but a small smile stretches across your lips from the memory. "No, he didn't say it."

"O-Oh," Jungkook says. He awkwardly stares at you in blatant confusion, wondering why you are crying profusely while smiling. He wonders if starting to take the suppressant again messed with your sanity. Jungkook's brows furrow as he begins to worry again. "Y/N..."

"No," you say, shaking your head adamantly. "He said something better than that."

Something true. Not some bullshit line like for us and for Everland.

It feels good to admit to something so genuine. Your grin grows wider.

Yoongi would be proud of you for not being so... so, ersatz. And he's up there somewhere—maybe in your head—nagging at you, teasing you. You'll count down the days until you'll be able to follow him there.

But for now, it's for you and for me, Yoongi.

—masterpost

—masterlist

[0bianidalas]

ok. i hate to be put in this position because polo x carla x christian was an OT3 that was really close to my heart but yeah, here goes a long rant: POLO X CARLA X CHRISTIAN IS IN NO WAY, SHAPE OR FORM BETTER THAN POLO X CAYETANA X VALERIO. 

First of all, anyone of you who says they’re just recycling or repeating that storyline can fuck right off, let us polyamorous people have more than one throuple in a show. 

Why is Polo x Caye x Valerio better? Simple: because they talk. Because they’re open. Because they’re aware of what they want. 

Polo x Carla x Christian was born out of a shady game/experiment Polo and Carla wanted to try. Polo x Carla x Christian throuple’s whole foundation was a clusterfuck.

Christian was fooled into thinking Carla was into him when really he was being watched without his consent when he had sex with her. Carla thought she was trying to salvage her relationship with her boyfriend and Polo was just trying to act on his attraction to men without having to end things with his girlfriend. Messy. Then when Christian got in on to the picture, he did so for his own, dishonest reasons. 

Let me break it down into the three parts, because that’s the real issue: all three of them did terrible, questionable stuff.

First, the original sinner & real orchestrator: Polo. Yes, this whole thing was Polo’s idea even though Carla had to nudge him towards it at given points. 

In season two we find ourselves with a Polo who’s not questioned about his bisexuality, who explicitly says “Bi? Is that what I am? You know, you may be right. I might be bi” when is labeled as such & then who reveals to Guzmán he was into him at some point in his life. We don’t know for sure how long people have known this about Polo, but they know now. But FIRST, in season one, we have this exchange between Carla and Polo, the first time he’s having doubts about what they’re doing: 

[btw, this is Carla being supportive of her bi bf, just saying. She was encouraging, at one point, but, yk, I’ll get to that]

Now, either this happened sometime before Polo’s bi awakening via Guzman’s incrediboy ass or this right there is Polo outright lying to Carla. Polo was aware that he was attracted to guys & his main goal of having a threesome with his gf & some other dude was to explore that (or he wasn’t but then the whole timeline is weird bc then that means he liked Guzman sometime during S1 events. idk). First strike. 

Then, where else did my dear chaotic bi Polo go wrong? He let himself get pushed & influenced by Guzmán’s nosy ass comments. Polo was ready to help Christian get a modeling job with his mother, to get Christian to like him as a friend, without anything sexual in return

but then Guzman got inside with his head with his “Christian wants to take advantage of you” & then Christian’s whole dismissive attitude towards him & Carla calling him out on being jealous just triggered his Messy Needy Bi brain. So he got Christian to suck his dick over a magazine cover = he took advantage of Christian before he could do it to him. Second strike

And the nail on the coffin was cheating on Carla. Because yes, that was cheating. He lied to her to get alone time with Christian so he could have him to himself. He broke his girlfriend’s trust &, as the principle of their arrangement stated they weren’t supposed to do anything with Christian without the presence of the other: he broke the rules. Third strike. 

This last point of Polo’s faults brings us to Carla’s mistakes:

As I pointed above, Carla did encourage Polo in his attraction towards guys. In the examples of: the scene above, when she told him he liked Christian undressed better, when she moved the boys’ chins to see if they would kiss with a smile on her face, even when she pointed out Polo was jealous she was amused by it. She was on board. In fact, she was actually even pushy about it when you come to think of it, which is not good, bc if Polo hadn’t told her then she just had to wait for him to gather the strength to say it, not push him out. But I digress.

It was only after Polo broke their pact that she turned disapproving & judgemental & did that cursed thing of questioning Polo’s bisexuality by saying “I think you like boys more than girls”.

A lot of people like to think that Carla pulled the strings to get herself this double course meal but as I said, that’s not the case. Polo had the idea, it’s just that Carla had the drive to actually pull it off. That being said, the way she decided to get there was controlling and messy, yes. Most of the times, she cared more about getting keeping the threesome arrangement than the genuine concerns and doubts her boyfriends had. Dick got her careless about her boys feelings.

Then there’s the fact that, yk, she coerced Polo into lying about what he had done (which, now that S3 is out makes me wonder a LOT), which ended up getting messier than it needed. And then she also dragged Christian down.

PS. Also, a lot of people seem to have pointed out that Carla was more into Christian than she was into Polo but I feel like that’s a reach. Polo had been her boyfriend for over four years, so ofc, she was a bit more enthusiastic when she was with Christian. But when it all came down, the one she really loved was Polo. Only Polo. (which is also an issue for a polyam triad, ofc)

Now, on to the icing of the cake: Mr. Christian “I’m not aware I’m a huge ass raging bisexual & Im upset about it” Varela. Yes. I said it. Christian’s bi, I got plenty of proof & no doubts.

As I’ve pointed before: Christian was put into this trio clueless. Used. Lied to. The guy had very valid reasons to go “if you want to spice things up in your relationship, get yourself some other guy”. But since he’s a dumb (bi) boy with a Plan, he accepted.

Nothing ever goes right in triad in which one party just “””accepts””; they’re either into it or they’re not. Forcing polyamory is just as bad as forcing monogamy.

That’s not saying that Christian wouldn’t have gladly been a part of their trio had they gone right at it (just, picture it, Polo helping Christian get that fame & recognition he craves, slowly getting close to him. Carla being supportive & reassuring of her interest in them, equally, bam! They would’ve gotten Christian forever).

However that didn’t happen, so instead, we got a Christian who’s core interest was sexual & social/economic. He wanted to be with Carla for sex & with Polo for money/prestige.

There was potential for Christian to realize he’s not straight. Because no straight man looks like this when being sucked off by a guy:

There was potential for Christian to fall in actual love with Carla, too. Potential for Christian to become more than what his parents thought him to be & to exploit that ambitious side of him in something that would’ve made him truly successful. However, Miguel Herran (Christian’s actor) had scheduling conflicts or didn’t wish to be part of the show anymore so all that potential went to waste. 

Why Polo x Caye x Val are better

Essentially: because they have none of the above.

Polo has left insecure-about-his-bisexuality Polo behind, he’s grown & knows better than to lie & be pushed around now. Cayetana is in no position of power to be controlling or pushy. & Valerio is fully aware of who he is/what he wants with them from the beginning. 

The circumstances have made Polo stop being concerned about what his friends (now former friends) think of him & his love life. In fact, he proudly rejoices in it & tells the people he cares about,  about it (Ander, his moms). Polo’s really only hesitation at first was rooted in the fact that his previous try with Carla & Christian didn’t work out. 

Valerio comes forward with his equal interest in them as soon as he realizes that’s what he wants. (which is after he learns Polo tried to commit suicide) He makes sure to state, verbally, that he’s into both of them: 

& even makes sure that they like him back by asking them. Which they verbally assure Valerio they do. But they’re only saying no because they don’t want to tarnish Valerio’s already controversial reputation, showing that: they care about Valerio at that point already. 

Cayetana, for her part, did positively what Carla wasn’t able to, for one reason or the other: constantly be reassuring and supportive of the triad. She’s the one who made sure the triad kept on by just being open & honest about how good it was for them. (”You’re the piece we were missing” to Valerio & “We’re building something nice here. Something worthwhile” to Polo). 

When Polo&Christian wanted to call quits & break up the arrangement, Carla forced them back in with manipulative tricks (sex or pressure). Meanwhile, when Polo&Valerio got insecure about the triad, Caye lured them back in with honest, sweet words and reassurance.

Ultimately, the reason they fell apart was entirely fixable had they had had more time, but the season was about to be over & Polo’s fate was already set, anyways. 

You can argue Polo x Carla x Christian was hotter or that they felt more organic to you, fine. But they’re not a better trio & they’re definitely not a better polyamship; they had the potential, but the writers didn’t exploit it (& I’m sure that’s because Miguel H got out).

[artificialqueens]

Girl I Met On The Internet, 4/? (Crystal x Gigi) - Strawberry

Summary: Gigi and Crystal discuss things in person. Elites Only also gains a new member.

As soon as Crystal realized what was happening, she exited the Twitter app. The girl she had been talking to for months, the girl she had shared so many things with was Georgina Goode, who happened to be best friends with the girl who hated Crystal for no reason, because of course this would happen to Crystal.  

Crystal’s mind was racing, her brain instantly jumping to the worse case scenarios. Did Gigi know she was talking to Crystal this entire time? Was this entire thing just a ploy orchestrated by Dahlia to get dirt on her? Georgina was not gay, but Gigi was. Did Gigi even like her, or was Crystal just an experiment that no one would ever find out about because it was over the internet? She knew none of these theories made sense, she didn’t think Gigi had any idea who she was until now.

Gigi was freaking out. She had messaged Crystal, attempting to explain herself, but she had gotten no reply. Crystal hadn’t even read them. Panicking, she messaged Jan, hoping she would be online.

gigi: jan oh my fuckigng

jan!: WHAT HAPPENED? ARE YALL GFS??

gigi: …no

jan!: and why is that?

gigi: she literally goes to my school she sent me a selfie and i sent one back without saying that we’re irls and she just said what the fuck and now she wont message me back

gigi: i know u don’t like how rude dahlia is so im sorry i have to mention her but she’s literally the girl dahlia picks on for no reason i didn’t even know her name was crystal

jan!: W H A T 

gigi: what do i do

jan!: girl like i know?? this doesn’t usually happen to people.

jan!: when do you usually see crystal

gigi: i see her in the halls sometimes. she told me before that she stays mostly in the art wing tho

jan!: ok. tomorrow  go to the art wing and find her. talk to her. she’s probably not responding bc im sure it’s not a good feeling to find out the girl she’s been flirting with for months is best friends with the girl bullying her

gigi: god i feel so bad about that. i only stopped it once and i feel so bad

jan!: i love you but you’re a fucking idiot, gigi. you really are. go talk to her tomorrow and do better.

-

The next morning arrived faster than Crystal wanted it to. She was dreading going to school, knowing she couldn’t avoid Gigi forever. Thankfully, they did not have any classes together, but crossing paths was inevitable. The thought of seeing Gigi, even from across a crowded hallway, made her want to sob.

Her stomach started hurting because of her anxiety, but convincing her mother to let her stay home didn’t go over well. Crystal had convinced her mother at first, but as soon as she felt Crystal’s forehead to see if Crystal was running a temperature, which she wasn’t, she had insisted that Crystal stop pretending and get ready for school. She even drove Crystal to school instead of having her walk to make sure Crystal didn’t skip.

Crystal walked straight to the bathroom in the art wing. It was smaller, with only two stalls and the cell service was terrible; but it was vacant for the most part. She often stayed there when she wanted to skip class, and the only person she had ever encountered was Aiden, a shy girl from her art class. If Gigi was looking for her, this bathroom would be the last place she would look.

She had spent the morning sketching and listening to One Direction. She was in the zone, barely noticing when the door opened. Crystal didn’t bother looking up when she felt someone’s presence there, assuming that it was Aiden. “Hey, Aiden.”

“Uh,” Gigi started, “Crystal?”

Crystal’s head shot up, her eyes wide as she looked at a very relieved looking Gigi. “Oh, shit. Hey.” 

Gigi walks over to her, kneeling down to be at the same height as Crystal. “I know you’re probably upset with me, but can we talk? Please? I’ve been looking for you all period.”

Crystal nodded, moving her backpack to make a spot for Gigi to sit down. “Sorry I said what the fuck and dipped, I really didn’t know what else to do.”

“I’m the one who should be sorry. I’m going to sound like such a bitch but I didn’t even know your name until last night.” Gigi had never been good with names, only being able to remember her online friends’ names in the beginning because their name was attached to everything they did. Crystal had been known to Gigi as ‘Art Girl’ until last night.

Crystal had to laugh at that. “It’s fine. I don’t think Dahlia knows what my name is either, and I’ve lived in her mind rent free for years!”

“Speaking of her, I’m so sorry I only stopped her once. I didn’t want to get into it but I realize now that ignoring it is just as bad as joining in. Especially seeing the effects it has on you first hand, and now that I know I could’ve helped.”

Last night, Crystal gave Gigi a run down on every single color she had ever dyed her hair, and she had mentioned that she stopped dying her hair once she got into high school because she didn’t want to stick out even more, in fear of getting treated worse. It had made Gigi sad then, and knowing she could’ve changed that made her feel even worse. 

“Yeah, I don’t know how this is going to impact your real life, but no matter what I just hope you will step in next time.” 

Gigi reached over to grab Crystal’s hand and squeezed it gently. “I will never let her hurt you ever again. I care about you so much.”

They sat in silence for a few moments.

“Can I tell you something?” Crystal asked quietly, avoiding Gigi’s glance. 

“Of course. You can tell me anything.”

“I really like you. I know it’s probably weird now, since you’re not out and I’m not positive you feel the same, but I feel like I should tell you.”

Gigi smiled, placing her fingers under Crystal’s chin, lifting them up to make Crystal make eye contact with her. “I’ve been hoping you would say that.”

Crystal blushed at the contact. “Really?”

“Of course! You’re the most interesting person I’ve ever met. I would be such a fool not to like you back.”

The bell rang, interrupting their moment. Gigi pulled away, pulling her phone out of her jacket pocket to check the time. “Fuck. I have a test this period.”

“It’s okay. We can talk about this later,” Crystal reassured her, standing up even though she had no intention to go to her next class, “I can send you my address and we could meet after school?”

Gigi nodded, pulling Crystal into a tight hug. “This is the most emotion I’ve ever shown at once. I thought it was going to be scary but I feel so much better. Thank you for talking to me. If I was you I don’t think I would’ve.”

“I could never not talk to you.”

-

Crystal decided she would stay in the bathroom until lunch. It was mostly out of laziness, as her Gigi related anxiety was long gone. Doing academics was the last thing she felt like doing now. 

She had plenty of entertainment, she had missed a lot on Twitter, and had two thousand new messages from the group chat, even though she was gone for less than a day.

crystal: im skipping class what’s up ladies

jan!: hi crystal!!!

jaida: girl where have you been?? my world has been so empty

nicky: wtf jaida stop acting like i don’t exist

crystal: ehh personal things happened so i was ia. i dyed my hair green last night tho!! look!!

jan!: omg you’re so pretty

jaida: HOT HOT HOT

nicky: crystal. marriage now

heidi: omg girl you look so good!! i love your leprosy print shirt

heidi: leprosy

heidi: girl how do you spell lepord

heidi: leopard

heidi: there we go

nicky: you did it!

jaida: so proud of you

She was relieved they didn’t question her further, but she couldn’t help but be curious about what their reactions would be if they knew what was going on. Talking to the girls again made time go by extremely fast, before Crystal knew it the bell rang, declaring it lunch time.

She hadn’t eaten breakfast due to her anxiety from this morning, and just realized how hungry she was. Collecting her stuff, she exited the bathroom and headed down to the cafeteria. 

When she was in line to pay for a slice of pizza and a bag of pretzels, she had caught the attention of Dahlia, who didn’t hesitate to express how she felt about her new hair. 

“Ew, who in their right mind would dye their hair green?” Dahlia loudly asked Gigi, making sure Crystal was in ear shot. 

Before Crystal could defend herself, Gigi spoke up. “Dahlia, can you please shut the fuck up? No one cares what you think about Crystal’s hair, it looks fine. I can hardly tolerate you being rude anymore.”

“Georgina, what the fuck? I’m not rude!” Dahlia whined, making Crystal smile. She had been slightly surprised that it happened so soon, but she was happy Gigi stepped in.

Crystal paid and made sure to wave at the girls on her way out. Gigi waved back, and Dahlia looked the other way, her arms crossed.

-

crystal: it’s not that i didn’t believe you but i’m shocked that actually happened..

gigi: she’s lowkey mad at me but idc

gigi: i believe you owe me ur address? 

crystal: oh that’s right!

gigi: i have cheer after school but i can come over right after

crystal: yay!!! 

The rest of the day was painfully long. Every minute felt like an hour, Crystal was even bored during her art class. She couldn’t wait to go home and talk to Gigi.

She zoned out while she was walking home, wondering what could happen tonight. Crystal would like to think that Gigi was about to kiss her before they got interrupted, or maybe she was going to ask Crystal to be her girlfriend. Anything could happen, and Crystal couldn’t really tell how she felt about it.

When she got home, she tidied up her room. Her bed was unmade, her dirty clothes were on the floor, and a couple dirty cups littered the top of her night stand. It wasn’t too bad, Crystal would usually consider this clean for her, but it made her feel slightly embarrassed now. She had the urge to fix it, even though Gigi probably wouldn’t have cared too much if Crystal left it the way it was.

After her room was clean, she still had some time to spare before Gigi would be on her way. She headed to the group chat, curious to see what chaos they were up to currently. 

nicky: ADD HER

nicky: ADDD HEEERRRRR

jaida: jan please come back i hate it here

crystal: who are we adding?

nicky: JACKIE

jan!: NO WE WILL NOT BE ADDING HER

nicky: why :(

jan!: i can’t trust you guys to not embarrass me in front of her and she is not a stan!!! she will not understand any of you!

jaida: we don’t have to embarrass you, you’ll do it yourself. we can teach jackie stan language, she’s smart and she’ll catch on

nicky: JAIDAHJKFDGLK

crystal: omg add her

jan!: i hate you all so much

nicky: PLS

jan!: fine.

jan! added Jackie

jan!: jackie, these are my friends. don’t believe anything they say about me.

Jackie: Oh, hello everyone!

nicky: YAAAS JACKIE NATION

nicky: c’mon auto caps!

crystal: hi!  

jaida: hi jackie!

heidi: i leave to play animal crossing for 15 minutes and we get a new member… smh

nicky: not just any new member! it’s jackie!!!!

jaida: the way nicky likes jackie more than jan does

heidi: that’s impossible. jan is SUCH a simp for jackie

Jackie: What? 

crystal: OMFG

Jackie: Does that mean she likes me? I’m confused.

nicky: yes!

Jackie: That’s good. I would assume that Jan likes me, especially after what we did in my car earlier.

crystal: holy fucking shit

jan!: OMFGHFJSKDSFHJDFJK UH

jan!: JACKIE SHUT UP!!!!!!

Jackie: Why?

jaida: god i love it here

gigi: janet you better tell me everything later!!!

jan!: GET YOUR MINDS OUT OF THE GUTTER!!!!!!!

Crystal was so invested in the train wreck going on, only focusing on the messages sent by Jan and Jackie that she didn’t notice Gigi had come online until she got a notification that Gigi sent her a private message. 

gigi: im on ur street :)

Crystal ran to the door, opening it the second she saw Gigi step onto the porch. Gigi jumped, not expecting it. “Someone’s eager to see me, huh?”

Crystal blushed, letting Gigi in. “Shut up.”

Gigi kicked off her shoes and sat her backpack down next to them before letting Crystal lead her to her room. It was colorful, lots of posters and canvases covering the hot pink walls. “This is very you. I like it!”

“Thank you!” Crystal exclaimed, taking a seat on her bed and patting the space next to her. Gigi gladly sat next to her. 

“This is just really weird. 24 hours ago, I didn’t know who you were and now you’re in my bed. It’s kind of overwhelming,” Crystal blurted out, making Gigi frown. “But not in a bad way!” She clarified, “It’s just a lot to process.”

“Oh, yeah. It is a big change. Last night, I was going to ask you to be my girlfriend, but that obviously did not happen.” Gigi blushed, grabbing a throw pillow from Crystal’s bed to hide her face in. 

Crystal took the pillow away from her, sitting it next to them, “Do you still want me to be your girlfriend?”

Gigi nodded. “Yeah, but I don’t know if we should become official yet. We know each other so well, but I feel like we need to see if we vibe in person.”

“I don’t think we will have an issue with that, but I agree. Let’s take it slow. But can I try something first?”

Gigi grinned, “Yeah, what?”

“This.” Crystal whispered, leaning forward until her lips pressed against Gigi’s. Gigi kissed her back, wrapping her arms around Crystal’s neck and pulling Crystal even closer.

[itsclydebitches]

RWBY team impact anon. Thank you for answering my asks! I did want to follow up with one quick question. Does RWBY actually represent anyone? Nobody appointed/elected them. Blake is a princess bc she's Ghira's kid and that's it. IW has a commissioned duty. RWBY doesn't seem to have a legal right to make decisions for Solitas...let alone withhold information from IW that could impact the continent's defense. I'm confused why these kids are the protagonists? Has CRBWY done enough to justify that?

Of course! :D

I touched on this briefly many months back and as far as I can tell, no, the show hasn’t done a particularly good job of answering that question: Why are these people our protagonists? What gives them the power to get involved? Usually stories—particularly fantasy stories—provide clear-cut answers so that we can best immerse ourselves in this situation, rather than continually questioning why this group, out of all groups, is the one we get to follow. The two most common explanations are: 

This group has to fight whether they want to or not. Meaning, some outside force is exerting control over them. They’re stuck in the center of this fight whether they like it or not and thus we, in turn, are stuck with them as our protagonists. Think Harry Potter with a prophecy hanging over his head. Luke being born as a Skywalker. Geralt forced into a witcher’s life with a destiny to juggle. These characters are all bound to something larger than themselves and are, to one extent or another, carried along on the current of that. They have to fight. (“Have” — often overcoming the internal conflict of whether they’ll agree to this unwanted responsibility adds to their heroism. They COULD just run for the hills like Ozpin with his cabin, but they won’t). 

RWBY, however, undermines this sort of setup at every turn. Our characters continually reject responsibilities that may have led them to being a part of other fights—Blake leaves the White Fang despite her parentage and life-long involvement in it, Weiss walks about from the SDC despite being born as an heir and wanting to improve the company—and the closest thing we get to fate is with Ruby’s silver eyes. However, that was likewise undermined when Maria came onto the scene. Rather than presenting us with a world where silver eyes are either unique or rare enough that Ruby feels compelled to fight Salem even if she doesn’t otherwise want to, they gave us a character with the same skill, even more talent (if Maria’s moniker as The Grimm Reaper is any indication) who then said no thanks. She left. Bowed out. So what’s stopping Ruby from doing the same? Nothing. She could pull a Maria and be done with this nonsense and the world would continue surviving as it has for over a thousand years (with the exception of Salem’s new involvement, but again, we don’t see Ruby deciding to fight because Salem is now a more active threat). Ruby is not at the center of the world’s safety and there is no other outside force acting on the group to a point where the audience feels that their involvement in the fight is unquestionably necessary. We might have gotten that if the story had spent more time developing Ruby’s silver eyes. We might have gotten that if the story had spent more time establishing that if Ruby were to bow out, she and her friends would still be endlessly hunted by Salem (AKA, if she wants any kind of life, Salem has to be defeated first). We might have gotten that if the silver eyes/other talents were presented as lynchpins, etc. As it is, RWBY keeps providing examples of how heroes can leave, do leave, have every reason to leave, because they’re not the most talented, their powers are not unique, not necessary, there is nothing in the universe saying YOU have to be a part of this fight... so why are they? 

This leaves us with heroes who fight because it’s the right thing to do. Think Frodo saying he’ll take the ring to Mordor. Katniss stepping in to save her sister. Peter Quill yelling that he’s going to try to save the universe because he’s one of the assholes who lives in it. There’s nothing like destiny, a prophecy, or an inborn talent forcing (“forcing”) the hero to step up, they just do it because it’s the right thing to do and/or they realize that no one is able or willing to help. They and others might both assume they’re not be the best for the job (insert theme of underestimating Hobbits here), but they’re doing it anyway. They’re all that’s available. 

Similar to the above, Ruby could fit really well into this setup. She’s just a kid, she’s talented but she’s barely trained, she knows nothing about magic or this intricate war... surely there’s someone better to take her place? But Ruby wants to help people, which means she’s poised to step up if that’s required of her... but RWBY failed to create those circumstances. Ozpin is not an inept or corrupt leader who she must replace — he created a time of peace and kept the relics safe for who knows how long. Ruby does not live in a world where others refuse to step up — she’s surrounded by talented fighters who are already involved in this war. Ruby doesn’t even live in a world where she fights alongside these more talented and informed fighters — by the end of each volume she’s replaced them as the “real” hero. When someone asks, “Why is the screw up group of convicts trying to save the world in Guardians of the Galaxy?” the answer is, “Because no one else is doing it. The world has to take what it gets.” With RWBY it’s, “Why is the group of second year students, traumatized from a recent battle, going off to find a Maiden they definitely can’t beat?” and the answer is, “Because... they want to? There are other older, more powerful, more informed people dealing with this situation already but Ruby’s group is going off regardless.” “Why is RWBYJNR at the center of this fight now? Have they proven themselves some way? Is there no one else?” “Well no, not exactly. They just showed up at Ozpin’s safehouse expecting to be involved, they definitely provided much needed support at the Haven battle, but then they created circumstances where they were at the center of things regardless of whether others approved of that: stealing Ozpin’s secrets, driving him off, lying to Ironwood, etc.” Then, because the story hasn’t successfully laid out why they have to fight or why others would want them to fight (they often don’t), we get the plot turning in on itself to explain their continued involvement. Like refusing to grapple with their recent behavior. Or having them suddenly able to beat the Ace Ops. 

RWBY’s underlying reasoning for why this group is at the center of this plot is “Because they’re the protagonists” which is a circular explanation. You should craft protagonists that have a reason to be involved, not ignore the lack of a reason for the generic protagonists you’ve got. And don’t get me wrong, RWBY has lots and lots of nods towards various reasons, but they’re never well developed. Things like Ruby’s eyes, her “I want to help people,” the others’ devotion to her, the villains’ interest in them... they’re all the beginnings of compelling explanations, but RWBY never does much of anything with it, largely because we haven’t gotten enough of a look into the group’s personal motivations. Why is Ruby so compelled to throw herself into a war? Because of her mom? That’s never said. Why is Jaune? Because Cinder killed Pyrrha? Then why isn’t he trying to hunt her down? Why is Yang? Because she’s Ruby’s sister? Give us better motivation for Ruby then. And so on and so forth. This is particularly important post the lore episode because the group learned about Salem’s immortality and came to the unanimous conclusion that this war was impossible to win. So why are you still in it?? Volume 6 and 7 should have been an exploration of why they’re fighting, what they’re fighting for, and what they can bring to the table. Instead they happily ignore all of it until Salem and her subordinates get right in their face, then Ruby took control of the situation despite the story failing to establish why she wants to, let alone why she should. 

When we have characters like Ironwood and the Ace Ops trying to stop her and the takeaway is supposed to be “Omg how could they stand against Ruby they’re evil!” ... I just find myself agreeing. Ruby is a teenager. Ruby has one year of formal training. Ruby has thus far rejected or screwed over everyone she’s allied herself with (outside of the group who has agreed to follow her). Ruby has a very useful skill, but does incredibly little to learn about it or train it. Regarding the question, “Should Ruby be the hero we follow?” we’re shown a number of things that give a resounding “No.” She’s the protagonist because her name is in the title, not RWBY has convincingly written a world where her help is necessary or, at this point, even desired. She runs off to nearly get kidnapped, orchestrates an attack on the Argus military that results in a Leviathan grimm showing up, emotionally cripples the world’s oldest defender, undermines and betrays his replacement, and is now risking two relics/a Maiden by hanging around to fight Salem head on. At this point it doesn’t matter how pure her intentions are, Ruby’s actions have been inconvenient at best and downright damaging at worst. Though they clearly don’t intend it, RT is closer to writing antagonists then protagonists. Outside of their pure “We want to help people” outlook, we’ve got this group shouldering their way into this war and, more often than not, making things a whole lot worse. If the story had done a better job of explaining their involvement, such mistakes would be quiet sympathetic, but as it is their insistence on getting involved reads more as arrogance rather than resignation/drive: I have to help. There’s no one else. I’m needed. 

[iamtaran]

Dialogue Prompt 30

SO I’m a dingus and answered @partyhardwoohoo’s dialogue prompt (30: “You don’t see me.”) privately bc the button is the bigger of the two and I! Am! Easily! Swayed! By! Button! Size! Anyway, thanks so much again for the prompt and, uh, sorry for the fic now living in your inbox!  *

“You don’t see me,” Jaskier pants from behind his chair. 

And, really, of all the ways Geralt had foreseen this night turning out, this was not outside the realm of possibility. Rather than say anything, Geralt picks up his goblet and, sighing heavily, drains it.

He hadn’t known Jaskier would be at this celebration. Scratching that, he hadn’t even known Jaskier was in this kingdom. Last they had parted in some muddy marsh in Redania, Jaskier had been awaited in Cidaris to perform in some political wedding between two major noble houses. At the time, the last glimpse Geralt had caught of him had been: huddled in his cloak, made small from the last chill day of spring; caked in mud up to his knee-high boots, yet rosy cheeked and grinning with victory as he waved the witcher on with the parting farewell, “‘Til summer, then! I’ll just catch on with that caravan coming over the horizon. Looks like they’re very well to do-- exactly the type to enjoy a traveling bard’s charm and warmth on such a drab trek, don’t you think?” And then, when Geralt was nearly out of (human) earshot, he had called, “Don’t let anything get its claws into you whilst I’m not there, Wolf!”

In a month and a half, Jaskier seems to have come into some good fortune (the fine, soft linen of his flatteringly draped trousers, the kidskin of his soft boots) only to immediately lose it again. The last bit, of course, is only supposition. Based on the fact that he crouches behind Geralt’s seat, sleeveless tunic completely unbuttoned over his airy organza chemise where it gapes open at the collar. 

Geralt had caught only a glance of his flushed face, but he knows what his friend looks like when he’s been at the drink. He also knows from their time together exactly how recent debauchery shows on his skin and neck. He doesn’t need to turn and look to see it for himself. He can smell it. Instead, he reaches for the pitcher of wine.

“Jaskier,” he sighs. It is all he says.

Jaskier, of course, takes immediate offense.

“I haven’t done anything wrong!” he hisses from the shadows. Geralt hums, refilling his goblet. The wine isn’t bad-- not to a witcher used to the road.

“Or anyone?” he rumbles. Jaskier scoffs behind his ear. The main doors open; a harried guard and a fluttering servant stride up the middle of the hall between the two tables, headed for their host.

“Is there no respect for the choices of a grown man or woman in this backward kingdom?” he complains. “You’d think I’d killed someone by the way they carry on.”

“Jaskier,” he growls. Jaskier huffs an overblown sigh. 

“How am I to know who is engaged and who is not if they won’t tell me? Really, Geralt.”

The seneschal at Geralt’s elbow sends him a condoling look and passes the bread. Geralt happily takes another roll with thanks. This baron keeps the best baker in the state, and he is never one to turn away such a luxury. The road has only ever lined his gut with venison and crispbread, and recently the road has been long and his purse light. Even so, he is even more thankful that his other neighbor has yet to take any notice of their whispered conversation.

A hand snakes into view for just a moment. Petulantly, Geralt jerks the roll away and nudges it back with his elbow.

“And besides,” Jaskier continues, apparently unbothered by the fracas growing in volume at the front of the hall. He is lucky indeed that Geralt had been positioned in somewhat obscurity to the back of the hall. He doubts he would have been able to hide half as effectively where they any nearer to the windows and candles closer to the nobility. “It’s not a love match. No one has exchanged anything like a vow or even a half-hearted promise at this point.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt scolds. Fingers pinch his side.

“Not a word.”

“I thought traveling bards were meant to keep up on such news,” Geralt says into his food, which is many words. Jaskier exacts revenge by stealing the pickled cucumber from his plate. His hand retreats back behind his seat.

“News, yes,” Jaskier huffs. “Gossip, as well. But only a fool believes it.”

“I believe,” Geralt murmurs, “that you are about to face a cadre of very unhappy kinsmen if you continue to linger here.” Jaskier makes an agreeing sort of noise as he crunches his stolen goods. “Why haven’t you ridden for the border yet? Or left the castle, even, you dolt.”

“Lost my horse in a bet,” Jaskier grouses. Geralt snorts and pretends it was to spit into his napkin when it draws attention. The woman across from him glares her disapproval briefly. “Not a word, I said!” Jaskier hisses. “I was actually quite attached to- ah--”

“Marigold,” Geralt supplies. 

“-yes, Marigold.”

“Triss would curse you if she knew.”

Jaskier sniffs. “It was a tribute, meant only in the highest respect.”

“Was it respect when you bet her on-”

“-a case of Toussaint red.”

“-on a case of wine?”

“Let me take Roach,” Jaskier says rather than answer. Teeth-deep in a bite of roast lamb, Geralt frowns. 

“No.”

“Oh, come on, please,” Jaskier wheedles. For a man hiding from very unhappy kinsmen to his latest lover, he is quite chatty. Geralt remembers his flushed cheeks and reconsiders, ah, yes. Must have been wine. I thought he lost the bet? “It will just be until I’m outside the kingdom borders. I’ll take the highway and stop in the first clearing so you’ll know exactly where to find me. I’ll even oil your tack as compensation for what would otherwise be an unselfish show of friendship and trust.”

“No.”

“Geralt,” he begins. Geralt doesn’t get to hear what other argument he has up his sleeve, however. The seneschal picking at his salad on Geralt’s left clears his throat delicately. 

Immediately, he realizes what is wrong: the noise from the front of the hall has ceased. From the corner of his eye, he becomes aware of a half dozen armed guards led by two men he recognizes at the baron’s oldest sons striding down the length of the hall. 

Jaskier must notice, too. Rather than turn tail and make for the door-- or even, knowing him as Geralt does, standing to talk his way out of whatever trouble he has drawn-- rather than doing either of those, he crouches further, hisses at Geralt, “Move your thigh,” and with a shove to his side wriggles under the table. 

“Don’t!” Geralt whispers, too late.

It is a tight squeeze. The table is long but not terribly wide, and seated on both sides with every member of the household staff. Geralt hears Jaskier mutter a curse to himself and nearly jumps when two hands land on his thighs, pressing them apart to make room for Jaskier to squeeze between. The seneschal clears his throat once more, radiating judgement. Geralt resists the urge to clamp a hand over his eyes, barely. As if it would make the current situation disappear. 

The company of guards and sons moves past and out of the hall. 

“Don’t get excited,” Jaskier whispers, and pats him far enough up his leg that Geralt does jump. Jaskier chuckles. “Merciful goddess, that was close.”

“And what,” Geralt grinds out, “do you plan to do down there?”

The scandalized seneschal coughs into his fist. Roughly, Geralt grabs the pitcher of wine nearly out of the questing hand of the Housekeeper across of him and slams it down at the seneschal’s elbow. The seneschal, steadfastly ignoring him as he unashamedly eavesdrops, jumps like a man prodded.

“For your throat,” Geralt glowers. 

It is, admittedly, an effective glower. He watches just long enough to see the pale-faced man nod quickly and fumbling pour himself a glass that goes more on his plate than in his cup, then returns to his predicament. 

“Well, funny you should ask,” Jaskier hums, unawares, “because, you see, um, I haven’t quite, well, planned past this point-” 

Geralt really does lower his eyes into his hand. All he can do is prop that elbow on the table and hope he merely looks tired to any who should glance his way. Tired, and not like he is having a conversation with the man crouched between his legs.

“Jaskier,” Geralt growls at his lap as quietly as he can. “If you pull me into this fucking farce you’ve orchestrated before I’ve even been fucking paid for this job that took me two fucking weeks-”

“I haven’t!” Jaskier whispers back fiercely.

Geralt pins him with a look. “If it looks like they are going to find you here, I will drag you out from under there, march you to the Baron’s table, and offer to thrash your bare arse like a snot-nosed brat myself. I’ll do it in front of the whole fucking court if it means I will still get paid. Do you understand me?”

Wide eyed, Jaskier opens his mouth to protest. They are interrupted by one of the sons returning. Geralt doesn’t even hear him come up, so focused is he, until the man speaks.

“Sir Witcher?”

Jaskier shifts against his legs. Almost before he is aware of it, Geralt buries his hand in his hair and makes a hard fist. Jaskier, mid way to crawling-- back out, or away-- freezes. Casually, Geralt turns to face the second oldest son whilst his free hand reaches for his goblet with not a care in the world.

“Trouble, my lord?” He grunts, and takes a sip of wine. Jaskier’s boots shuffle under the table. Geralt tightens his hold and pins him to his leg. Jaskier stills, breathing sharply against his thigh where his cheek is pressed.

The son smiles grimly. “Purely human in nature, serah. Please don’t let me interrupt your dinner beyond the necessary.” 

A distracting hand wraps around his ankle. Geralt distinctly does not twitch.

“My thanks,” Geralt says dryly.

“My father has asked that I offer you room for the night, should you require.”

“Your father is uncommonly generous to offer,” Geralt notes. He can feel Jaskier’s rabbiting heartbeat thrumming where his knee has pressed into his chest. “No, I require nothing but the agreed upon price. I have a room booked at the inn for another night yet.”

The lordling smiles. “Very well. I’m afraid I can’t see you to our steward myself at the moment. But I will have my father informed to expect you in the antechamber after the meal has ended. He will see to your payment.”

It is unspeakably rude that he has not risen, Geralt knows. He also knows that he can get away with it. Witchers have always held a strange position in society. Outside of its rules and structures. It is a pleasant surprise, however, when rather than being offended as is his born right, the young lord merely offers his hand like a lowbornsman and with a short farewell leaves to catch up with his guard.

Under the table, Jaskier pants out an insult against his trouser leg. Geralt smirks and holds him there just long enough to make his point. It’s when Jaskier’s hands start fumbling up his legs looking for weaknesses and one finds the back of a knee that he lets go and goes back to his meal. Jaskier pinches him anyway and tells him exactly what he thinks.

“Neither of us know my father, and such a configuration seems unlikely,” Geralt replies mildly.

“Even more likely to be true, then,” Jaskier shoots back, craning his head as if to peer around Geralt’s chair for any other visitors.

From this angle, Geralt can see what he hadn’t before. A handful of deep maroon suck-marks spot the side of his neck and just behind the hinge of his jaw. His lips are still red from kissing whatever noble he should not have. (Judging by the stubble burn on his neck, it was the future husband.) He smells like wine, and sex, and cedar and bergamot perfume. His hair is mussed where Geralt had grabbed him. He doesn’t know what it had looked like before. He knows what it looks like now, however.

Suddenly, supremely aware of what the assumption will be if they are discovered, Geralt straightens. A passing servant pauses, takes up an empty plate to his left, and moves on without noticing anything amiss. Jaskier’s sigh of relief skitters hot and far too close across leather. It raises all the hair along Geralt’s arms. He freezes.

“In my belt purse,” he blurts. Blue eyes flash up at him. He tries to keep his face still and fails. He lifts his cup to hide it. “I still have a room at the local inn for the next two nights. Take the key from my purse and go there. And don’t get caught, or I’ll say you stole it.”

“And Roach?”

Geralt gives him a flat look. “Leaving on horseback is conspicuous. Or have you forgotten you’re sneaking out a fugitive?”

Jaskier pouts. “Point made,” he says, before ducking back enough to give himself room to work. Geralt tears his eyes away to look about the room nonchalantly. It is only the wood of the table creaking under his grip that makes him realize how tense he has become. Breathing in and out deeply, he forces himself to relax. 

Fingers grope at his belt for an excruciatingly long moment. Geralt takes up his forgotten roll and rips a bite off with perhaps too much gusto. 

“Got it,” Jaskier whispers. He leans forward just enough to wink up at Geralt one last time, grinning impishly. “Well, this has certainly been one of the more interesting nights I’ve spent on my knees-”

“Leave,” Geralt groans, and really does curl a defeated hand over his eyes as he feels Jaskier wriggle out from under the table. He doesn’t even watch him go. 

Only after he is sure he’s gone does Geralt slide a coin to the seneschal.

“This stays between us.”

[glitterblazercalum]

you can tell a lot about someone by the type of music they listen to 🎵🎶

rules: hit shuffle on your media player and write down the first 20 songs, then tag 10 people. no skipping!

tysm to @clumsyclifford for tagging me! I still can’t actually believe it when I get tagged in things lol. PLEASE do not call me out for my very strange and noncohesive taste in music. also, my ability to ramble is unparalleled, so feel free to skip all the commentary bc I know I would. 

Hometown by French 79: wow. I guess we’re starting off by exposing me and the techno/edm I listen to while studying/working. the lyrics in this song are practically non-existent, which is how I like my study music, but something about it is very soothing, while still being very fast-paced. I heard it/ some other songs on my study playlist described once as “orchestral electronic” and that seems very fitting. a good song, for sure, although I wouldn’t really say it plays a big role in my music taste. 

False Confidence by Noah Kahan: the only noah kahan song that I had heard before actually getting into his music, and still one of my favorites. all of busyhead is honestly so good. I think I said this to bella once, but Noah Kahan has such a woodsy, cabin-in-Vermont vibe, and at the moment, I’m very into that. 

High Highs to Low Lows by  Lolo Zouaï: I really forgot this song existed. My cousin? second-cousin? (idk not much of my family is in the us, so whatever she is to me, we’re close) and I went to see Lolo Zouaï live on of our NYC trips. (Fun fact: this is the only concert I’ve ever been to!) I didn’t know anything about her until like a week before we went, so I listened to a bunch of her music for a week before and after seeing her, and then I forgot about it. It’s honestly pretty good, and her voice is very ethereal-sounding in parts, which is how I like to imagine mine sounds when I sing, so it’s fun trying to sing it. 

Classic by MKTO: if I could pick a song to encompass the feeling of sixth grade, it would be this one. this really isn’t the type of music I’d usually choose to listen to, but I always let it play through when it comes on, for nostalgia purposes. 

Castaway by 5SOS: YESSSSSS. Best song on SGFG, and no, I will not be taking any criticism. I adore Castaway with my entire heart, and even though I listen to it at least once a day on my morning run, I will never get sick of it. 

Teeth by 5SOS: Speaking of getting sick of things... I mean, not really, but I also do not love this song anywhere near as much as I used to back in like March/April. This was one of the first songs by 5SOS that I listened to consistently, and probably THE one that convinced me to get more into their other music, so for that, it holds a special place in my heart, but I overplayed this wayyyy too much. Still good, but I’d prefer to not hear it for a while so I can get back to the place where I would scream-sing my heart out to this. 

Mauja hi Mauja by Mika Singh: the first Bollywood song on the list! My parents actually introduced me to this one when I was like seven years old, and I’ve loved it ever since. It always puts a smile on my face, and it’s really fun to dance around my room to, which is always my main goal when listening to Bollywood. 

Alejandro by Lady Gaga: Where did this even come from, and why do I still remember all the lyrics?

UNSTATUS QUO by Duckwrth: I originally listened to this bc I liked the title and as a pretentious debate nerd who used the phrase “status quo” at least four times a day, it felt like blasphemy not to. This is def my “cool kid in a movie walking down the street” song. It’s more... loud? cacophonous? than the music I usually listen to, but it really, really does make me feel cool. I think if I were to hear it more often than I do, I would probably stop liking it. 

Mystery of Love by Sufjan Stevens: yeah, I don’t know about this one. I feel like I can only listen to this when I’m already sobbing, so I’m gonna skip it for now. I never actually watched CMBYN, so idk how I even found this song. ALSO fun fact, I found a ten hour loop of this song on youtube once, and listened to the whole thing in one sitting. as I’m sure you can guess, that was not a good day :)

Do I Wanna Know by Arctic Monkeys: bitches listen to one arctic monkeys song and think they’re indie, yeah, it’s me. I’m bitches. 

Apocalypse by Cigarettes After Sex: wow, really proving my own point about only listening to very well-known indie music. 

Greek God by Conan Gray: This song just FEELS aesthetic and I don’t quite understand that but I still like it. 

Sweater Weather by The Neighbourhood: it’s actually been a minute since I last heard this, but I still like it! I was def more attached to this song about two years ago, so I don’t have much to say about it anymore. 

Summer is a Curse by The Faim: I actually heard this on a German tv show once and LOVED it. I really didn’t have any idea that Ashton was involved until a few months ago and I was like “wait, what??” it’s def a v good song, but I feel uncomfy endorsing/supporting it bc of the sexual misconduct allegations against one of the Faim’s members. Unfortunate, really, but that’s not something I can really get past. 

Bang! by AJR: I’m surprised AJR hasn’t shown up sooner tbh. The “Metronome” line and “pretend you know this song everybody” are CONSTANTLY stuck in my head. If I could choose any concert to go to, it would be either AJR or 5SOS. They actually had a really cool socially-distant drive-in concert yesterday, but it was in Philly, which is a bit too far to drive the week before college starts. 

Formidable by Stromae: <3 the song I was listening to when I made an ao3 account <3 I feel like I know too many people who had a Stromae phase. I don’t even understand French music all that well, but this is a bop. 

Hasta el Amanecer by Nicky Jam: Damn, I just realized that there’s music in four languages on this list now. We stan multilingualism. This is one that I do actually understand most of the lyrics for, so we love that. It was fun listening to this again, bc I really haven’t heard it in at least a year. 

Higher by The Score: The album that this is from came out on my birthday a few years ago! (just realized that there’s no recent music on this list, and if one thing describes my music taste accurately, it’s finding music a few years after it was released/popular). This is back from my soccer-playing days, and it was one of my pump-up songs for bus rides to away games. I think I might put this album back on regular rotation bc this is actually quite good!

No Control by One Direction: what even is there to say? I wasn’t really into 1D while they were actually active (rip me), and this is the song that made me give them a chance (chonce). perfect note to end on. 

As for tagging others, I think I’ve avoided it enough times that I kind of have to now, so sorry in advance if 1. you’ve already done this/ been tagged and/ or 2. you have no idea who I am and are confused as to why I’m acting like I know you. I’ll just do the first ten people who pop up when I type the at symbol: @originalashstan @tothemoonmikey @5sos-fan-boy @calumcest @ashesonthefloor @kaleidoscopeminds @mashlums @poisonjaffas @tirednotflirting @fuckyeah5sostakemehome

[clockworkrosea]

911, what’s your emergency? (3)

→ summary: they were dangerous. she knew that, and yet, she continues to hunt them. and this? this is her retribution.

→ pairings: jeon jungkook/fem!reader, kim namjoon/oc

→ warnings: graphic depiction of torture, mentions of torture, a lot of mentions of blood, mentions of death, mentions of the mafia, mentions of arson, mentions of fire. graphic description of what the shankill butchers did at the end a/n. 

→ wc: 1.5k

→ a/n: alright sorry this took so long, i first was worried with the depiction of the police then i realized corrupt is not that inaccurate, and then i was trying to get a decent wc. please give me feedback! also if anyone wants to be tagged send me a message, comment or ask or smth. aLso i ended the chapter there bc i didn’t want to reveal who was who yet. y’all can guess tho 👀👀. enjoy the chapter! also i made exo bts’s enemies in the story just for convenience they aren’t actually enemies

→ disclaimer: this is not an accurate depiction of bts and anyone else mentioned in this fic. this is also not an accurate depiction of seoul’s police department, government, and any other institutions mentioned in this fic. 

series masterlist

When Y/N woke up, hours later, she quickly figured out what had happened. They'd laid a trap, and she had walked right into it. She tugged at her restraints, cringing as they chafed her skin roughly. Her head was pounding, and she felt exhausted, but she looked around and analyzed her situation. 

The room was bloodied and dirtied. The blood pooled  Y/N scrunched up her nose in disgust as the smell finally hit her. The coppery scent did nothing to help with her headache. Carefully, she kept her eyes off the ground, the grisly sight of dried and fresh blood enough to make anyone retch.

It felt like hours before someone walked into the room. Y/N groaned, tilting her head up slowly to glance at who it was. Hannah was in front of her, looking down with what seemed to be interest. Despite the gore around the room, she seemed to be calm, albeit slightly disgusted. 

“Well, well, well. I won’t lie, I expected better of you.” Hannah said, looking her up and down. 

"Getting kidnapped by the mafia isn't very high up on my list of dangers, unfortunately. Sorry to disappoint, though." Y/N snorted, staring at her kidnapper. Well, technically the orchestrator. Hannah didn’t look strong enough to drag her all the way to their car. Y/N waited for the pain that was surely to pay her back for her sassiness. 

Surprisingly, Hannah snickered. 

“I like you. Sassy. Unfortunately no one else that lives here would’ve taken that too kindly, so I’d be a little more careful.” She warned, although the effect was lost as a result of the smirk on her face. Hannah left the room, daintily stepping around the blood stains. 

“You’ll need to convince Namjoon to let you out. Although, I’m not totally sure you’d enjoy it out here.” Hannah said cheerily, shutting the heavy metal door. Y/N blinked in surprise, not actually expecting to get help. She nods slowly, careful to keep her head as stable as possible. 

It felt like hours had passed when another person finally entered. This was the other man that had been standing by Hannah during the ill-fated conversation. Ill-fated for Y/N, of course. She observed the man, assuming this was Namjoon. 

He was...different from what she'd expected. Realistically, neither of the leaders were what she’d expected. Both exuded power, yet they had none of the sadism she’d come to expect from mafia leaders. They were relaxed, yet they had the traditional personality type of a strong mob boss. 

Y/N had also talked to them for a grand total of 5 minutes. Namjoon stared at her, seemingly contemplating something. Y/N shifted nervously, running her tongue over her lips. Finally, he smirked and spoke.

"I think we'll let you go. No point in keeping you here." She nearly tipped the weak wooden chair over in her shock, barely managing to tip it back in time. When she looked back at Namjoon, he was smirking as he watched her struggle. 

“You’re smarter than Jungkook gives you credit for. I’d thank him, if I were you. Had he not been so annoying you’d be stuck in here, and, well, it's not exactly a great place to be." Namjoon motioned to the blood-covered walls. He stepped over to her seat carefully and slashed through the ties binding her legs and feet. 

Y/N stood up hesitantly, taking a couple steps forward. Namjoon followed behind her, with practiced grace, and he watched as she slipped. She looked at her hands, sticky with drying blood. It slowly dripped off of her hands as she carefully got up. Namjoon stepped past her, opening the door. 

She left the room hesitantly, slightly intimidated at the thought of staying in a house with 8 mafia members. Despite the bloodiness of the room, it had become familiar, and Y/N wasn’t particularly eager to leave it. 

“Down the hall, on the right.” Namjoon’s voice broke her out of her thoughts. When she looked at him, slight confusion evident, he motioned to her hands. She nodded, before making her way down the carpeted hallway. 

It was modest, yet subtly extravagant. They didn’t have many decorations, but it’d clearly been strategic. She could see there was thought behind the placement of plants, desks, and chairs in the hallway. Even while she’d been living in her home, her paranoia, similarly to many other members of the police force, had been through the roof. It was probably much worse for them, considering the design of one hallway reflected clear defenses against intruders. Feeling Namjoon’s eyes on her, she quickly stepped into the bathroom. 

It didn’t take long to wash the blood off. Once she’d stepped back out, Namjoon was waiting for her, face still impassive. He nodded to her, motioning for her to follow him. Y/N stumbled slightly as she rushed to catch up with his brisk pace.

“Where are we going?” She couldn’t help but ask him. He shot her a sharp glare, quickly shutting her up. It also surprised her, considering what she asked was an innocent question. To be fair, he’d also seemed significantly more tense after she’d finished washing her hands. Something probably happened in the five minutes, and she was on the receiving end of his annoyance.

It took a couple minutes, winding through  halls and rooms, to find wherever Namjoon's destination was. When Y/N looked inside, all she does is sigh. This had been coming, she knew, but that didn’t make her any more eager to meet them. 

Namjoon cleared his throat, bringing the attention to the two standing in the archway. 

Y/N didn’t recognize anyone, as expected, but she matches faces to positions and positions to crimes. As with everyone else in the room, she was well aware she was at a major disadvantage. Namjoon guided her over to an empty couch, and Y/N sat down carefully.

First, she looked for the doctor. Y/N first figured out his existence in the early stages of her assignment, when the previous detective had quit. It was well known that there were 8 members of Bangtan, yet Y/N had only been able to find seven distinct signatures among the crimes. Originally, she’d assumed that the final member had been a drug dealer or enforcer, rather than participating in the murders. It’d taken a month and a small gang war for her to conclude that the last one had to be a doctor. There had been no increase in hospital admissions within Seoul, yet Y/N knew they’d been injured. 

The doctor takes the shape of a smiling man with sharp almond eyes. 

Next, she scanned for the arsonist. The previous detective, Suho, had tracked the string of fires supposedly in connection to BTS. 4 months later, Y/N had confirmed the Arson to be among the inner circle. EXO, a then-recent enemy of Bangtan, had had their temporary headquarters burned down. It was well known that Bangtan had orchestrated the attack, allowing them to uncover another member of the group.

The arsonist takes the shape of a glaring man with twitching hands. 

The interrogator, a terrifying force of death. He’d been the easiest to uncover, and Y/N’s team had tried to track most of his movements. Suho had told her about the first time they’d found one of his bodies. It’d been mutilated beyond recognition. The final cause of death had been a deep slash to the jugular, like the Shankill Butchers. Electrical burns decorated the poor man’s skin, and shallow slashes covered his entire body. The coroner’s report had specified that none of the cuts had been deep enough to kill. Y/N got through about half of the report before she’d had to put it down. 

The interrogator takes the shape of a man with doe eyes and scarred hands. 

Finally, the leaders. Some of their smaller, less experienced teams had tracked the movements of the kingpin early on. Suho’s team had been the one to uncover the other mob boss: a well-hidden daughter of a dead businessman. It hadn’t been a surprise no one had discovered her, considering the lack of information on the whole network. According to Suho’s informant, no one in the lower ranks had ever seen the other boss. Shortly after, they’d found his body, tortured and broken. 

The leaders are a man and a woman with angry eyes and bloodied hands. 

“So,” Hannah spoke, looking at her with hidden amusement. “I suppose we should introduce ourselves. After all, we already know so much about you.” 

“You know me. Kind of. I’m Hannah Zhang. Bangtan’s godmother, donna, leader, etc. If you hurt any of us, I will kill you.” She continued cheerfully. Then, Hannah motioned for another man to talk. Even before he began, Y/N identified him as their doctor. He seemed kind, she thought. Then again, he also was in the inner circles of a top mafia well-known for their ability to kill.

→ tagged: @btstxtgenre​

→ a/n: again i get this could be a little confusing, so feel free to send me any questions you have and i’ll answer them :) the shankill butchers were a group of loyalists who operated out of the shankill area in belfast, ireland. they were responsible for many violent sectarian attacks, in which they would slash their victims’ throats nearly through to their spines. basically they were violent and almost beheaded people but not quite 

[gstdaisuki]

A Talk with Nathan McCree

(this is a followup to my video on Nathan’s work, which you should watch(!), and a mirror of the Patreon post)

Nathan McCree is well-known for his work on Tomb Raider. If you go digging, you’ll find he’s been interviewed about the series several times. However, he’s done quite a lot more. I’d like to fill in some of the gaps. Below are snippets from my chat with Nathan about music on the Megadrive, what it’s like to work within limitations, and music in the future. 

---

GST: Skeleton Krew's music is an oddity on the Megadrive. there's nothing else quite like it. I saw you mention that the soundscape was inspired by the graphics, which makes sense --they compliment each other beautifully. I want to ask what other influences you had in mind, if any. How much of the soundtrack was just created by just pushing strange sounds out of your tools? 

NM: It's very difficult to say exactly where inspiration comes from. Mostly I am inspired by the kit I am using and the sounds they make, so in this case it was the sounds I was creating on the Yamaha chip inside the Megadrive. But musically at the time I was listening to a lot of psychedelic electronic bands like Ozric Tentacles, The Orb and lots of dance/trance/house music of the era.  

GST: Now that you mention Ozric Tentacles, the arp sequences in Clockdrops have a similar feel to some of the tracks in Skeleton Krew. It's kind of striking, though I think the direction you went in is actually better realized because you seem to work so well within the FM on the Megadrive. (Hopefully the musical comparison isn't too offensive!) 

NM: No I'm not offended by the comparison at all. I did learn a lot about synth patterns and textures from Ozric Tentacles, but again, without copying, I took what I learned and went in my own direction with it. It's important to always have a picture or an emotion of the project you are working on as this helps construct the music in a way which fits the mood of the product and as a result should gel the visuals and the animations together. The music in effect, acts as a kind of glue for the project which holds it all together.

GST: On the opposite end of the oddity spectrum, Astérix and the Power of the Gods for the Megadrive features nothing but classical songs. I'm curious if this was a decision from the game designers, or an exercise for you, or something else. 

NM: It was a decision made by the game designer and programmer, Stefan Walker. Stef asked me if it were possible to convert 15 or so of the most famous classical pieces in history that were out of copyright protection (older than 90 years). Of course I said yes, and we set about listening and searching for pieces which fit that criteria and which would be suitable for the game. The conversion process from a full-orchestra down to a 6 note-polyphonic FM synthesizer was a challenge but a very enjoyable one, and the result earned the accolade "Best Megadrive Music Ever". I was rather chuffed with that.

GST: The soundtrack for BLAM! Machine Head is listed as released in 1995, which is before the game came out. Was this a promotional thing?

NM: Yes it was a promotional release of 300 vinyls. We sent a load to UK Clubs to try and get some club play time to promote the game. We succeeded a little but game soundtracks weren't really the thing back then so it gained little traction.

GST: That’s pretty amazing! That was late 1995, right on the precipice of game music leaking into the mainstream. (For reference, "Sega Tunes" came out in August 1996, "Club Saturn" in 1996, and Tommy Tallarico released his arrangement albums in mid-94 and mid-96) Did you get any feedback / reviews from the clubs?

NM: Yes we did. A few were kind enough to give us some feedback. One club I remember said about Nano-Seed, "a floor-filler!". That was good.

GST: Relatedly, what is your experience with club music? Some of the tracks on BLAM! sound perfect for the era. I wouldn't expect them to be written by someone who was previously unfamiliar with club music. Do you remember any particular songs or artists that you drew inspiration from?

NM: I was clubbing a lot in the 90s. I was going to Hot To Trot in Mansfield once a month, Renaissance in Derby in between and a few other local dance venues in Derby. In the end I was clubbing every weekend. Apart from the psychedelic bands I mentioned earlier I can't really pin-point a particular dance music artist. I was listening to so much and none of it was being repeated. I was constantly listening to new tracks. It was a very inspirational time musically and on top of all this I was writing my own dance music in my spare time outside of working at Core Design. So yeah, there was a whole lot of influence that went into the BLAM! Machinehead soundtrack. Having said that, with my writing, I always try to write something which I haven't heard before so I hope there is something unique and new about the music in BLAM! Machinehead.

GST: About Swagman: This seems like the most involved orchestral soundtrack that you had created since Soulstar. I'd like to compare the two a bit. How closely were you working with the rest of the team at this time? Swagman isn't a rail shooter so you can't match the soundtrack with the action in the levels... How much better was your gear at this point? I'd say "it doesn't sound like you struggled with your gear this time" but you actually disguised that struggle quite well in Soulstar, haha. 

NM: As you say, Swagman wasn't a rail-shooter, so scripting the music to fit the game wasn't possible. Instead I used the location of each level as my main source of inspiration, and created atmospheres to fit those - The Nursery, In the Garden, Down the Well, The Crypt for example. I had some new kit by the time I started writing Swagman. Mainly the addition of the Roland JV1080 which I had expanded with the Orchestral Boards 1 & 2 and the World Expansion Board. I also had a Roland JV90 which is the keyboard version of the JV1080. That too was expanded. So I had plenty of voice-polyphony at that point and lots of very useful orchestral patches to play with. So you're right, it was less of a struggle with Swagman, but both projects were still very enjoyable to create. With Soulstar, I ended up using quite a few saw-tooth, synth-lead patches to create the brass ensembles. They actually sounded pretty good once they were buried in amongst the rest of the orchestral sounds!

GST: Battle Engine Aquila marks a soundtrack where you were freelance AND in the distant future of 2003. How much of your gear did you leave behind when you left Core Design to go freelance? And how much of it was digital instruments on your computer at this point? I ask the latter because, to my ears, this game sounds about as good as you can get without hiring a real orchestra. 

NM: So obviously leaving Core Design meant saying goodbye to all the kit I had built up over the 6 years that I worked there, but of course I needed something to work with as a freelancer. So I spent a large chunk of my Tomb Raider money on a new studio for myself. Apart from the obvious stuff like a mixing desk, studio monitors and a PC, the decision needed to be made as to what instruments/synths I should buy. I had been really impressed with the Roland JV1080 so I bought one of those (and expanded it as before) and the synth geek in me also decided to by one of Roland's latest creations, the JP8000 - a fully record-able and controllable raw synth machine! With this machine it was possible to record the movement of every pot and fader straight to Cubase. A very useful tool for dance music, and to this day I still haven't used it to it's full potential. I also bought an Akai S9000 sampler which I used mainly for drums, so once again my orchestral setup was synth-based, rather than sample-based. So I started out freelance with this kit in 1998. When I got the opportunity to work on Battle Engine Aquila I decided I needed a bigger orchestra so I bought another Roland JV1080 (expanded again) and an E-MU Virtuoso 2000 orchestral synth which I quickly binned when the main controller knob became faulty and I wasn't impressed with the architecture of the signal path. I continued to use the Akai S9000 sampler for a few more years for electronic music but as soon as computers became fast enough for sample based editing inside the sequencing software, it too became a dust collector on my studio shelf along with other outboard gear which were replaced by VST instruments and Plugins. To this day I still use the 2 Roland JV1080s and my Roland JP8000, and that's about it. I'm not one of these musicians who needs to hide behind a million synths or new pieces of kit every month to convince people I can write music. I'm one of these guys who can make music from anything. A fork, knife, bottle, my kid's mini toy guitar, or glockenspiel. If it makes a note, I can use it, which I frequently have in my compositions over the years. I remember when I was working on a prehistoric game called BC, I used a metal electric fire which I scraped with a nail and hit some bricks with drum sticks to create the percussion sounds for the music. I don't need to buy new kit to be creative.

GST: I'm curious about what the limits are when it comes to crafting something unique. If you go too "far out," you'll have a unique song, but it might not resemble "music". Where's the balance between copying the songs you heard in the club and becoming autechre? Same question for non-electronic music: It's possible to get unique compositions if you go to the edge of music theory, but that can also become inaccessible. (You did seem to use odd time for the end theme of Waterlollies (11/8 by my count) though, which is always a fun technique.) 

NM: Finding something new isn't about moving further and further away from music, it's about persevering with textures, ensembles, sounds, patterns and harmony until you find or create something which you haven't heard before. You have to wade through a load of stuff you have already heard until you find new waters. Sometimes that can take hours, sometimes days. You have to keep going. Adding stuff, deleting stuff. Thinking outside the box. Sometimes forgetting what you have been taught. Turning things upside down, back to front. It also helps to enter altered states of the mind when creating. This can be done in a variety of ways. Working late into the night until you are close to falling asleep for example, puts your brain into an almost dream state which helps create new things which you wouldn't normally think of during the day. This is why many creatives, and not just musicians, do their best work in the early hours of the morning. Other things can help too, drinking alcohol, but this has a negative impact on your hearing, and then of course there's marijuana which I think most musicians that have ever lived swear by! Personally for me, it's about perseverance, working at the detail and striving for perfection. Music doesn't have to be complicated or removed from tonality and harmony to be different. There are billions of combinations, it's just about looking for the new ones.

GST: One more question about the early days: Does any of the original software or source code for your Megadrive music still exist? 

NM: There's a possibility that I have a copy of the programme somewhere on my hard drives but it needs a special custom built PCI card installed in your PC to work and that, I do not have anymore. You see in those days, getting access to certain elements of the games console just wasn't possible like it is today. Now you install some dev tools plugin and you have direct access to every feature of the console. Back in the early 90s we had to dismantle the machine with a screwdriver, rip out the circuit boards, making notes of the chip serial numbers and manufacturers, then calling the company and asking them for a full specification of the pin numbers and what each one did. After that, we would order the chips we wanted (or rip them out of the games console itself) and design our own circuit board which included the chips we wanted and have it all re-mounted onto a custom built PCI card which we would then install into a PC. After that, it was all about programming. We followed a similar process for the Megadrive sound chip. It was a Yamaha YM2612. So we ordered a couple of these directly from Yamaha and once we had the full spec it was pretty simple to work out how to wire it up on a circuit board. All we needed to do was to add left and right phono sockets to the output pins on the chip and send the 5v power supply to it and there you go, Megadrive synth on a PC! Of course there are the other pins (24 in total) which needed connecting up to the data bus, memory access pins, read/write request lines, interrupt request line, ground pins etc. but once we'd figured all this out it was simple enough to create a circuit diagram for the board. Once we had that we sent off the design and the 2 x Yamaha chips to a circuit board manufacturing plant in the UK. A week later our 2 x Megadrive synth PCI boards arrived. We plugged one into my PC and the other into Sean (programmer)'s PC, and we got to work coding up the sequencer. Sean took care of the machine-code level programming of the synth engine and I programmed the high-level language user interface. We had the whole sequencer up and running in 4 months. So I may have the source code and sequencer files but I don't have the hardware on which it runs. Of course I could have another circuit board made but it would take some time to get all that together again.

GST: What happened to Console Sounds / Industrial Ambiance? I can’t find it anywhere. 

NM: I took the album off-line. It was available as a library album for a while but the critiques viewed it as if it was an album release and began slating it for sounding like off-the-shelf music - which is exactly what it was. It was never an album release. It was just a bunch of tunes that had not been used for anything, and I was just trying to earn some money. But when the critiques got hold of it and slated it, I took it down.

GST: That's understandable, but unfortunate. Have you considered bringing the album (or any of the songs) back on a service like Bandcamp or Soundcloud? 

NM: Yes I do have ideas and avenues for a lot of my music. The first thing I want to do is to officially release all my game soundtracks. After that I'll see what's left and if there's any mileage releasing any of it. 

GST: Actually, how much of your music can you release on Bandcamp? I know that the rights can get tied up...

NM: Well after the Kickstarter campaign, I am now officially a record company and publisher so I can release any of my music whenever I like. I don't need a platform like Bandcamp or Soundcloud (where often the composer/performer ends up surrendering their rights for little compensation). I don't need to do that now. I can release my music myself and retain 100% of the rights, which is a better way to go. It's been a hell of a lot of work to get to the company to this point, but the infrastructure is there now, so I'm going to continue with that.

GST: Oh, that's exciting! Do you have any idea when we can expect to see some old soundtracks released? I'm also very interested in the dance music you wrote outside of Core Design. That would be a fun throwback thing. 

NM: I want to start rolling my old game soundtracks out over the next few years. I have earmarked about 10 albums which I think are worthy of release. They all require some work in terms of remastering and re-recording. Some would benefit from a live orchestral recording like Soulstar, Heimdall II, Swagman and Battle Engine Aquila to name a few, but those kinds of production are very expensive so we'll have to see how funding goes for that kind of thing. In the meantime though, I will be releasing new synthetic recordings of these soundtracks - all made using the original equipment which I wrote them on, so they will sound the same, only better! Yeah there's probably an album or two of dance type tracks kicking around which could be released. Other songs too which are still unfinished so i'll need to do a bit of work to finish those up into some releasable form. So plenty of work to keep me busy for the next 5 or so years I'd say.

GST: Where can we find news about these remastered albums? Where's a good place to find you? Is there anything else you'd like to plug? 

NM: The best places to keep informed as to what I'm doing career wise is on my official FB page: https://www.facebook.com/nathanmccreeofficial/ and also my Twitter page: https://twitter.com/nrpmccree  As far as plugs go, please just support my concerts. They cost a huge amount of money and time to organize and I can only keep doing them if we get a good attendance. It's really important, not just for The Tomb Raider Suite, but for games music in general, and if you do like the Tomb Raider Suite album which is free to play on Spotify, please consider buying a copy. This is how us musicians make a living and it really does help us to keep going and writing more stuff which hopefully you will enjoy. A big shout out to all the fans who have supported me so far and who continue to do so - you guys rock!

[rivalsforlife]

rank the prosecutor themes!!!

Okay!! I’ll do you one better and do all the main rival themes (meaning: I’m including Shi-Long Lang and Justine Courtney in here too. despite Lang probably being very displeased at being grouped in with prosecutors. sorry.) uuunfortunately I am going to get into spoilery territory with this one, but I’ll do this in reverse order, so you can skip the spoiler parts because they’re my favourite ones haha, and I will warn for them.

First, a disclaimer: All the prosecutor themes are fantastic. that is all.

12 - Great Revival - Franziska von Karma: I adore Franziska, but she needs her own leitmotif. This one is basically the same as Miles’ Great Revival, except higher and with a different intro, from what I could tell. and I’m not even sure if the sound gets revamped for the Investigation games…? I can’t quite remember. ANYWAYS, what really made this the lowest of the prosecutor themes for me is that they also use this theme for MANFRED VON KARMA in AAI2, because I guess they didn’t want to create a whole new theme for him when he only shows up for part of a flashback case. So they borrowed his daughter’s. This is a DISGRACE, because Miles Franziska and Manfred are all very different characters and deserve to have distinct leitmotifs. Especially since the whole idea of the Great Revival is that it’s them coming out from underneath Manfred’s shadow/unlearning his techniques, since this plays when Franziska comes in with the evidence to save everyone in Farewell, my Turnabout, I think. So having Manfred have the anti-MVK song is not good.

11- Zacharias Barnham - The Sword of Labyrinthia: things get difficult now because all the songs are good. I’m putting this one here for a couple of reasons, namely because I first listened to this song while going through PLvsAA on 2x speed on youtube because otherwise it would take too long, so I heard this song at 2x speed and now it just feels too slow to me. I said these rankings were going to be very subjective, right…? also it would have been great if they actually finished Barnham’s character arc, you know. Darklaw doesn’t really have a leitmotif so she’ll be missing from this list, by the way, I didn’t just forget that she existed.

10 - Nahyuta Sahdmadhi - The Last Rites Prosecutor: it’s a pretty song. I like how it actually uses what sounds like a human chorus in there, which is distinct from pretty much all AA music? I especially like the part near the end of the loop where it gets all kind of suspended in a sort of “floating in the void”-like feeling, at least to me. It’s down here though because I… don’t really get an “opponent” vibe from him. I don’t listen to this and think to myself “oh, this is the guy I’m going to fight”, you know what I mean? 

9 - Barok van Zieks - Grim Reaper of the Old Bailey: I like how ominous and haunting this song is, pretty fitting for a “Grim Reaper”. It’s nice to listen to, too. It just didn’t really stand out for me above all the rest, so it’s here.

8 - Simon Blackquill - Distorted Swordsmanship: similarly to van Zieks’ theme, this has a very ominous vibe to it. It’s pretty subtle for a lot of it, and it’s way less “in-your-face” than a lot of the other prosecutor themes. It suggests an opponent that isn’t going to face you head on but kind of work in the shadows and take you down without you even realizing it… which is fitting, considering Blackquill’s whole “twisted samurai” motif and the idea of psychological manipulation being his main thing. I like this one, like all of the prosecutor themes, and it’s only here because I… liked others more.

7- Miles Edgeworth - Great Revival: “Grace why did you say both Great Revivals are practically the same thing but put Miles five places above Franziska” OKAY LISTEN. There is only one “Franziska von Karma- Great Revival”. There are multiple “Miles Edgeworth - Great Revival”s, and this is about where I’d average them out. Great Revival 2002 would be ranked about the same as Franziska’s because, yeah, they’re practically the same thing. Great Revival 2013, however,  has an even prettier intro, is more orchestral and therefore sounds even more regal and fitting for DD-era Miles. I am seriously considering making this my alarm to wake up to in the mornings because… it’s so pretty? 

BUT I have to mention the actual orchestral versions of Great Revival, because they are phenomenal. There’s one for every Gyakuten Saiban Orchestra. The 2016 one is the first one I listened to, but it was tragically taken down… so listen to the 2019 one.  All the orchestral editions are pretty much the same… but the orchestral Great Revivals have a new part around 1:30 that is just GOREGOUS. I ADORE it. That would probably shoot this one up a few rankings if they were in the games. I gasped out loud in a dead silent library upon first hearing it, it was very embarrassing. Great Revival imo sounds much prettier the more genuinely an orchestra it is. I love this song? … moving on.

6 - Shi Long Lang- Speak up, Pup: I said that Blackquill’s theme was very subtle – this is the opposite, this is about as “in-your-face” as it gets. It also sounds very cool. It has a sort of… I’m hesitant to use this term, because of how people abused it when I was in junior high, but it definitely has a sort of swagger to it. It pretty well encapsulates Lang’s character and him just… barging onto the crime scene with all his people and making hasty arrests and taking bullets, like, all that stuff I can see coming from a person with this as their leitmotif. But I just like listening to it, it’s one of those songs that has a similar effect to caffeine on my brain. It’s just very loud and cool and I enjoy it.

5 - Justine Courtney - Goddess of Law: I also really love listening to this song. It’s very regal. This song is very good in contrast with Sebastian’s First Class Farewell… like, Sebastian spends most of the time as a bit of a joke, with his light and airy theme… and then Justine comes in with this theme and you kind of feel like “oh, crap, now things are serious.” I like the use of the organ, obviously, giving it kind of a churchy feel which makes sense as she is referring to and worshipping the Goddess of Law, but I also love the faster parts of it too. It shows off her quick wit and intelligence that makes her a pretty formidable opponent for Miles in AAI2. It’s the song of someone you definitely would not want to cross… and is very pretty. 

4 - Godot - The Fragrance of Dark Coffee: my feelings about Godot are… complicated and not entirely positive… but I adore his theme. He’s the first prosecutor to really have a proper leitmotif that’s all his own… and even though it’s not a “I’m so ready to fight this person” leitmotif or even a “this person’s particularly intimidating” leitmotif, it’s very laidback and relaxed. Honestly what gets this one so many points is, guess what, once again, the orchestral songs! Part of this is a lot of bias, because they replace the piano parts with the flute in the orchestral editions of this song and I played the flute for six years so I am partial towards it. But also it just… sounds extremely pretty? It’s very relaxing and… it just sounds gorgeous in the orchestra editions. I haven’t listened to the jazz version yet but I bet that would be gorgeous as well. Here’s the most recent 2019 orchestra version of this song, but the 2008 and 2016 ones are good too (my favourite being the 2016 one, which again got taken down bc copyright :( rip)

3 - Klavier Gavin - Guilty Love: out of the mainline games, AA4 has the best soundtrack imo, which is justifiable considering who the prosecutor is. Okay, this one is a huge contrast from Godot’s theme… it’s actually a huge contrast from all the prosecutor themes. The only one who comes close to this level of Rock is Lang’s theme. It’s fun, it’s upbeat, it’s soooo much fun to listen to. It really does set Klavier apart from all the other prosecutors - this isn’t the song of your enemy, this is a song of a person who’s here to find the truth and have a good time doing it. You go into the courtroom getting ready to face off against the dreaded Second Case Prosecutor, the most insufferable version of every prosecutor until now, and you get ROCK MUSIC. … literally, he apparently actually plays it in the game. which, pun intended, rocks.

This gets bonus points, of course, for being made into an actual song with lyrics that you could hypothetically sing, made by Shu Takumi. If you haven’t listened to this one yet you totally should, it’s a good time. listen to Klavier Gavin ditch his date to go to court. PARTICULARLY for the parts where Apollo’s theme gets in there. like, uh, Klavier. pining much?

– OKAY NOW SPOILER WARNING. I’m going to go into a bit of AAI2 spoilers here, nothing too major like the mastermind or anything, but if you don’t know what the deal is with Sebastian then I’d just recommend avoiding this for now. And then after that are major DGS2 spoilers, so if you haven’t played either of those games and don’t even want to look at anything remotely spoilery you can probably just skip out on the rest of this post.

2 - Sebastian Debeste’s Themes: okay, so. First Class Reasoning is just such a… light, airy, bouncy song. It sounds kind of absent, like it’s running off chasing butterflies instead of investigating a crime scene. It’s not the song of a formidable opponent (which makes the contrast with Justine Courtney’s leitmotif much better). This plays pretty notably in the one argument you have with him that’s so nonsensical it doesn’t even justify the traditional confrontation music, you have this instead.

And then in the final case you get First Class Farewell.

This sounds infinitely more mature than First Class Reasoning. The two instruments kind of do a… back and forth with each other. I think I read somewhere it’s like a tango? Whatever it is, it is something where you need to keep up with the argument and the logic, something Sebastian hasn’t been able to do… until now. It has him standing up to his father, standing on his own, and showing that he truly has the potential to be a great prosecutor. If we ever somehow see Sebastian as a prosecutor in future games, I want this to be his leitmotif. Individually these two songs wouldn’t take this spot, but put together and showcasing Sebastian’s character growth – and that First Class Farewell plays in one of the most emotional AAI2 scenes – is what brings it up here. It’s a really good use of leitmotifs.

Speaking of great use of leitmotifs…

1 - The Masked Disciple’s Leitmotif. I… cannot say anymore than this without spoiling the entirety of DGS2, so I’m actually going to put the rest under a “keep reading” if you’ve finished DGS2. So, uh, if you haven’t, just… when DGS2 is translated, play it, it’s really good. And this leitmotif might actually be my favourite song in the entire series, for reasons that are under the cut. I… really hope this works, if it doesn’t, scroll as fast as you can and don’t look back.

…

…

…

…

…

…….. so. Asougi, huh.

The Revived Prosecutor is! INCREDIBLE. At the time I’m writing this, the only way to really experience DGS2 as someone who does not know Japanese and only knows English is by watching these twitch streams, and you might notice that when this first starts playing the streamer actually pauses so we can listen to it. it’s that good.

It starts off as such an intimidating, imposing song. It’s a song of your enemy. It’s so strange, so different from the Asougi we’re used to, and you’ve really got to wonder if he’s the same person.

AND THEN SAMURAI WITH A MISSION KICKS IN. It felt like an actual, physical gut punch.

It has lacks that familiar, Japanese-y kind of feel to it, though. It’s Asougi, but it’s different. Asougi is the Samurai With A Mission, and he’s fulfilling his very murdery prosecute-y destructive mission, which is so different from the Asougi that Ryuunosuke idolized in DGS… and even though this person is so different from the Asougi we knew, it still is Asougi. It also has a few hints of the Professor’s Theme in there, which is also incredibly good considering… well.

Honestly, one of the reasons I’d want a remake of the original trilogy – like a full-on remake – is so that they’d do something like this with Miles’ themes. His “Great Revival” is good… but it doesn’t suit AA1 Miles. If we had an actual “Demon Prosecutor” theme, which was mostly replaced by DL-6 when talking about Miles’ trauma, and then get to something like Great Revival for his… well, Great Revival, that would be fantastic. That’s the one regret, that Miles came too early for ace attorney to get around to making proper leitmotifs like this.

Also again this song is just really fun to listen to. And that’s probably what’s most important here, right?

[delfeur]

Going thru my docs, i found this Society of gentlemen thing I started. It was my take on the Dom/Silas/Jon promised threesome. But then, naturally, I got lazy and didn’t finish. Then December came, and K J Charles wrote her story, and it was pretty much where I intended mine going, haha, which the advantage I didn’t have to write and that she’s better at it than i am !

But anyway, i figure i’ll post it here, bc there’s some bits of it I like and maybe you will too? hahah Warning that it has not been finished or seem an beta or anything

It was Wednesday and the room at Quex’s was booked for them as always.The wine was ready and poured. Sweet, like Silas favoured. Two glasses neatly arranged on the small table. Everything as usual. Almost.

Silas sat, making himself comfortable in the big padded chair. He rested his booted foot on his knee and ran his hands over the armrest, feeling the texture of the fine fabric under his rough fingertips, and waited.

He felt nervous in a way he hadn't felt ever since that first time he published as Jack Cade. The tremor of his hands when he stacked that old pile of seditious pamphlets felt much the same as the one he felt now as he waited for Dominic to arrive. This was not seditionist libel, though. This was just another Wednesday.

This was not their usual endeavour. He felt the shiver of excitement run through his spine. It happened every time: the nervousness, the uncertainty, the desire. All these familiar feelings Silas thought he should have gotten used to by now. But every Wednesday they were there, and his addiction to Dominic refused to dwindle.

He wondered if he should have talked to Dominic first. Warned him of what he had planned for their night. It would do no good, though. The humiliation and sordidness were part of what made this game interesting for Dominic. Dominic had the means to stop it at any time. Silas had to trust him to do it if he felt uncomfortable in a way he didn’t fancied just as Dominic trusted Silas to make sure that that would not happen.

He heard muffled footsteps behind the door, undoubtedly Dominic’s. Silas readied himself, straightening his back and puffing his chest. Next to him, he heard a chuckle he decided to ignore.

“Evening,” Dominic said when he pushed the door open, his eyes trained on Silas’s. His grey waistcoat hugged him tightly and Silas couldn’t help but notice his pants were always a tighter fit on wednesdays.

“Evening, Tory.” Silas made sure his voice didn’t betrayed how he felt.

Silas noticed how Dominic’s eyes widened the moment he realized they were not alone in the room. His eyes darted from Silas’s face to Jon’s, a crease of confusion marking his forehead. He opened his mouth to speak but Silas cut him short before he had a chance.

“The rent to this place,” Silas said, reaching for his wine glass, half for effect, half to stop his hands from shaking, “is getting increasingly higher.”

Dominic’s eyes focused on Jon, standing with perfect poise next to Silas’s chair. “Richa--”

“Fucking you in cotton sheets is getting too costly.” Silas said over Dominic’s protest before he started to talk about how Richard was the one paying for it all and ruined the game. Silas took a sip of wine before going on, voice low and throaty. “I should bugger you in some damp alley like you deserve. Make your trousers all muddy as I feed you my prick. Then leave you there for the next bastard to use.” Dominic’s mouth parted slightly. “ My dirty Tory, the state you’d be!”

Dominic was still frozen in place, gaze darting from Jon to Silas, nostril flared and breathing starting to get a little erratic. Silas took that as a good sign.

Silas let out a theatrical sigh. “Fortunately for you, Shakespeare and I have come to an agreement.”

“Yes?” Dominic throat bobbed when he forced down an a swallow.

Jon nodded, flashing Dominic his perfect white teeth.

“If a tory whore,” Silas took another sip, “wants to be fucked in a soft bed he should pay for it, don’t you agree, Mr. Shakespeare?” Silas looked up at Jon and smiled.

“Absolutely, Mr. Silas.” Jon said.

Dominic screwed his eyes shut and shook his head. “No, please…” then, a bit frantic, “I have money, I can...”

“I’m sure Mr. Shakespeare knows a few badly lit alleys where a sissy like you can make new acquaintances.”

Dominic’s eyes were wide and his breathing was shallow. Jon, upon noticing this, glanced at Silas in question. Dominic’s state could easily be mistaken by fright, but Silas knew better. His tory was already picturing it, probably wondering which scenario would be worst. Dominic would prefer that one, doubtless.

Silas smiled at Jon, who visibly relaxed.

Silas braced himself for his next question and prayed he wasn’t wrong when the orchestrated this night. Just one word from Dominic and Silas would send Jon on his merry way and forget it ever happened.

“Have you anything to say, tory whore?”

Dominic stared at him, a bit of defiance in his eyes. He paused before replying. Silas took one deep breath and held it.

“I...,” Dominic said, eyes facing down, his cheeks starting to heat subtly. “No.”

Silas relaxed for the first time since he arrived at Quex’s that night. He spread his legs, making sure Dominic could see how his trousers were bulged by his hardening prick. Dominic swiveled his eyes to Silas’s crotch. Silas palmed his swollen cock through his pants and gave it a nice squeeze.

“Strip,” Silas said, “then kneel.”

Dominic obeyed, getting rid of his waistcoat and shirt with practiced ease. Removing his pants was a more awkward ordeal and Silas noticed how ashamed he was about being told to do it in front of Jon. He hesitated when he got down to his drawers, eyes pleading Silas to let him keep that small piece of dignity. Silas simply glared, and Dominic stood fully naked in front of them, pale skin flushed with embarrassment. Without looking at Jon, he gracefully went to his knees in front of Silas.

“Not me, you useless tory.”

“I…” Dominic started but Silas slapped him lightly on his cheek before he could finish.

“It’s Shakespeare who you need to please.”

Dominic face filled with shame, his muscles locked in place before he finally crawled to where Jon was standing. The way his hips swayed his perfectly sculpted arse made for a nice picture. He knelt like a good boy in front of Jon, who was fully clothed, and waited.

Jon looked down at him, eyebrow raised. “Well?” he said, “must I do all the work?” Then, to Silas, “you must teach your whore some manners. Undo my pants.”

With trembling hands, Dominic reached for Jon’s breeches. He undid the first of the three buttons Jon’s pants had. He fumbled terribly with the second, his nervousness increasing every time he didn’t succeed. Not his fault, in Silas opinion. Why the hell would a decent men need more than one?

“Do you need help, Mr. Frey?” Jon said, amused. “I understand you are used to having a valet.”

Silas smiled to himself. Since that first time he playfully suggested it and Dominic showed more than a fleeting interest, Silas wondered if Jon would be the right person for it. He was uncertain if Dominic would rather have a stranger do this instead of a man he saw on a weekly basis and, worse of all, reported to his Lord Richard. However, Silas would not trust a stranger to this. He’d never allow a man whose intentions he didn’t fully known to hurt Dominic. And, in the end, Jon knew them, he knew that pain wasn’t the only thing Dominic craved. Judging  by the unsteadiness of Dominic’s fingers and the way his breath was getting shallow, he knew Jon was the right men for the job. Silas gave himself another nice rubbing.

Popping free the last button, Dominic tentatively lowered Jon’s undergarments. Jon’s hard prick sprang free, black as the rest of him, the head a dark shade of purple. Jon was longer than SIlas’s, but not thicker. Dominic’s hands were firmly fisted on the fabric of Jon’s clothing while he stared at the erection in front of him with his lips parted. They shined with saliva in the low light.

Dominic probably stared for a moment too long. Jon fisted one hand in Dominic’s hair and guided his engorged prick to Dominic’s lips with the other. Dominic tried to turn his face away from Jon’s erection, whimpering pathetically, but between his legs his own prick was leaking already.

Jon clicked his tongue. “Don’t be like that, Mr. Frey.” He gripped Dominic’s hair tighter and forced him to face his dark prick. “Open up. Make it tight and wet.” Jon brushed the head to Dominic’s lips, forcing them to part. Dominic’s cock twitched where it lay ignored and he started to suck.

They put on a nice show. Dominic’s hands still clung to Jon’s clothes, his eyes were squeezed shut and every two sucks or so he tried to move away from Jon’ arousal, but it only made Jon’s grip on his hair tighten. Dominic whined every time he was forced to take Jon’s prick. Silas opened his own trousers’ button and gave his cock a nice tug.

“That’s a good Tory,” Silas said and got ready for the show.

[backwardabyss]

i’ve been free of the sh*rlock fandom for many blissful years now and i try not to like, write things on this useless blog of mine but i’ve seen more reactionary anger to the season four finale than i was expecting so i feel compelled to Share My Thoughts regardless of whether or not anyone wants to hear them. full disclosure: i am not a fan of j*hnlock or the conspiracy movement it has inspired so you may not want to read this if you are. 

i guess the major thing for me is.........confusion. shipping holmes/watson i wholeheartedly understand, of course, there’s a long and beautiful history of doing it and i’ve always adored the ambiguous queerness of the Canon’s holmes and how that’s been adapted or not adapted in the thousands of films/tv shows/pastiches/etc that have followed it. what i dont?? fucking understand??? is the people who genuinely thought it would become canon, on bbc sh*rlock (2010) OF ALL FUCKING THINGS????

i’m pretty damn far from being a “casual” viewer of the show, it was my primary fandom for several years and i was once-upon-a-midnight-fuckin-dreary completely consumed by my love for it. so as someone for whom that is true but who, unlike most fandom people for whom it is true, has not been sucked into the J*hnlock Meta Echo Chamber, i feel pretty confident in my assertion that there has been really very little in the series itself to suggest a romantic john/sh*rlock endgame. sure, their relationship is at the center of the show and they ofc have been shown to care for each other deeply and enduringly, as holmeses and watsons always do....and, sure, there are without question lines and moments that could be read as revealing a romantic undercurrent to their devotion to each other (particularly on sh*rlock’s end, i think). but that there was a legitimate conspiracy movement convinced beyond all shadow of a doubt that they were going to explicitly get bbc’s sh*rlock and john making out onscreen...i just do not get it, and do not see it, and yes i’ve read the metas, and no they did not convince me and i’m not entirely sure how they convinced anyone but whatever, it’s fine, that’s not the point.

like, for example, i keep seeing people shocked that after the ~EXPLICIT TEXTUAL GAYNESS~ of the lying detective they couldn’t believe the final problem would follow. and i’m just like??? huh? you mean, the hug? the one that happened in the context of a) john mourning his dead wife who he clearly loved very genuinely and b) john hearing sh*rlock receive a text from irene adler and urging him, quite explicitly, to go fuck her and telling him he’d be an idiot not to?? that explicit textual gayness?? WHAT? (i know the Conspiracy People have composed all these half-assed metas about how irene isn’t Really A Character and is just a mirror for sh*rlock or a symbol of his desire to bone john or something, but, lol no offense but fuck that misogynistic bullshit that treats every woman on the show as a literal empty signifier only sitting there to reflect something about sh*rlock and/or john. it’s just not a good reading or a valid interpretation and it’s so sexist i don’t even know where to start lmao. john genuinely wants sh*rlock to find the love of A Good Woman bc he is a hetero and well, the worst, and there was nothing about that scene that felt like a lead-up to the two men in it falling in love like ohhh my god. oh my god.)

and like ok, i got off course there, but how did ANYONE expect a different outcome after this interview, in which gatiss and moffat both told you all in NO UNCERTAIN TERMS that they had no romance planned and in fact seemed incredibly miffed by the refusal to be believed when they said that?? gatiss literally says that there is no conspiracy and that even tho they lie about some things in interviews they are not lying about this. and look, i don’t want to defend them, i think the writers of this show are assholes and bigoted in ways they can’t see, but how anyone could accuse them of “baiting them into thinking j*hnlock would be endgame” when they’ve been saying it won’t be the case (often in unnecessarily rude and offensive terms) for literal YEARS??? i don’t get it. I REALLY DON’T. and no, gatiss doesn’t Owe you a holmes/watson relationship just because he’s a gay man himself lmao and when he’s expressed his feelings on the matter countless, countless times. you all chose not to believe him, for whatever reason, so i mean i’m sorry if some of you are hurting but i’m also feeling very congratulationsyouplayedyourself.jpeg about the whole thing.

which brings me to my last major point really, which is: WHY WOULD YOU WANT THESE HORRIBLE PEOPLE TO BE THE ONES TO DELIVER YOU YOUR QUEER REPRESENTATION?? moffat in particular is just, UGH, i mean, for fuck’s sake, the man wrote an adaptation of a scandal in bohemia where irene identified herself as a lesbian and yet, in the very same episode, fell in love with sh*rlock to such an all-consuming degree that she Lost Her Head and made a silly mistake in their game and got humiliated in defeat. like, what kind of lesbophobic, misogynistic fucking NONSENSE that btw completely deviates from the plot of the actual story in which she beats holmes’ ass and flees away into the night, victorious and safe. that’s the writer you thought was orchestrating a queer endgame for his beloved sh*rlock holmes???? that’s the writer you wanted orchestrating a queer endgame for his beloved sh*rlock holmes?? l o l....ok. that’s not even taking into account all the nasty things he’s said in interviews, like how sh*rlock is ofc not interested in men and ofc he’s not asexual bc asexual people are BORING, sh*rlock is just a latent straight man repressing his urge to bone women!! maybe he’ll marry mrs. hudson in the end tho!! lmao. i....cannot.

and i guess i’m also irritated by this guilting wave on my dash, like i’m obligated to feel sympathy for all these shippers who get duped, or whatever. like, look, even putting my personal feelings about the j*hnlock fandom aside (YOUR SMUG ASSES MADE THE FANDOM LIVES OF ALL RAREPAIR SHIPPERS HELL FOR YEARS, YOU ASSHOLES), after going through what, say, the 100 did to lexa, i’m just.....having a hard time feeling sympathy, i am sorry. oh, your two favorite characters get to live happily together raising a baby in 221b in a scenario that leaves them ripe and open for no end of headcanon and fic that can be totally canon-compliant? boooooo frickin hoooo. HEARTBREAKING. 

i realize this probably is like, rude and condescending and invalidating or whatever and well what can i tell u, i’m a rude bitch, but i am tiiiired of reading all these posts like this is the biggest slight against the lgbtqa+ community in media history. it’s not. yeah, you should all be expecting better from your media, for sure. but you should not have been expecting better from this shitpile of a show, which has proven its disregard for women, racial/ethnic minorities, and queer ppl for seasons upon seasons now. it’s 2017, and the tv landscape still isn’t great but there are so many shows out there with actual canonical lgbtqa+ characters that you can be looking to for the representation you want, deserve, etc. 

sh*rlock isn’t the queer love story you all wanted it to be, and if i’m not empathetic abt that it’s bc i’m SO DAMN RELIEVED that’s the case, bc it and most of the people involved in its production are hmm, what’s the word.....THE. DAMN. WORST.