#wrote this up last night at like 3 am and yeah it still tracks

[corvigae]

You know what time it is, gamers? That's right, it's "Oddly specific Nervous Subject headcanons" time again! This time I'm thinking about the idea of Nervous and Ophelia having actually known each other when they were both very young, of Nervous playing with his baby cousin Ophelia and them being close at the time. As an adult, Nervous doesn't really remember much from his early years anymore, but sometimes he swears he can remember a little girl following him around, sticking super close to him like she was afraid to be left alone, and like she was certain he'd keep her safe from whatever she was so scared of. Having been so young, Ophelia doesn't remember this at all, but when she does finally meet her long-lost cousin she can't help but think he seems comfortingly familiar.

[ladykailitha]

Star Child Part 8

Out of the frying pan, but did they land in the fire? Steve certainly thinks so.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

***

Eddie and the rest of Corroded Coffin had barely gotten to the parking lot when suddenly all their phones were blowing up. Steve had tried contacting Eddie first, but when that failed, he had tried all of them. Whatever it was the matter, it certainly had freaked Steve out enough to try and get a hold them by any means necessary.

Jeff was the one that managed to answer his phone before Steve hit voicemail and called one of the others.

“Hey, man,” he said. “What’s wrong?”

“Is everyone okay?” Steve asked, his voice trembling.

“I’m going to put you on speaker so you can hear all of us at once, okay?” Jeff said soothingly.

“Yeah...” Steve muttered. “Yeah.”

Jeff put it on speaker and one by one the others chimed in.

“Gareth here,” he said, “You’re kinda freaking us out, man.”

“Are you guys still at the club?” Steve gasped.

“No, dude,” Brian said. “That place is creepy as fuck.”

“You got out okay?” Steve asked, his voice cracking from emotion.

“Stevie baby,” Eddie cooed. “I’m okay. But um...you’re not going to like this.”

“Your Uber driver is pissed you left him hanging?” Steve breathed through the speaker of Jeff’s phone.

All four members looked at each other in shock.

Eddie gulped. “What’s going on, sweetheart?”

“Are you still in the parking lot?” Steve asked.

“Our Uber just pulled up,” Brian said and wandered to the car, but Jeff stopped him.

“Call the driver,” Gareth said. “Make sure it’s the right guy.”

Brian stopped dead in his tracks and looked back at the club. The music could still be dimly heard out here on the pavement. The lights pulsed in a twisted way. He pulled out his phone and dialed the number the app gave him.

And instantly the man in the sedan picked up his phone.

They all sighed in relief.

Brian walked up to the driver’s side window and the man rolled down the window.

“Hey, man,” Brian said, waving his phone. “We’re tourists and wanted to make sure we had the right car. You’re Vince, right?”

“Hey, no troubles,” Vince said. “I’m one of the few drivers willing to pick up from this club, so I get it.”

Dread pooled in Eddie’s stomach. “Steve baby,” he said to Jeff’s phone, “Can I call you back on my phone? It’ll be quick I promise.”

Steve let out a shuddering breath. “Yeah okay.”

Jeff hung up and they piled into the car, Brian taking the front seat. Eddie called Steve up and immediately Steve answered.

“Hey,” Eddie whispered. “What’s got you around the twist, Stevie?”

“I’ll tell you once you’re at the hotel,” Steve said. “But um...I don’t want to hang up.”

“And I won’t,” Eddie murmured. “So talk to me, tell me about how recording is going.”

“We’re stalled out for the moment,” Steve murmured. “The label is pissed that I did four of the five albums in three years and am about to churn out the last one.”

Eddie winced. “You able to do anything about that?”

“Robin and I have a meeting with a kick ass contract lawyer tomorrow,” Steve said with the first hint of smile Eddie’s heard all night. “Plus, Robin is super smart and made it air tight.”

“That’s good, sweetheart,” Eddie said. “You still writing songs for this album?”

“Hell no,” Steve said. “I haven’t wrote anything new for these guys ever. I have notebooks filled with old songs and I pick the ten or so worst songs imaginable and record those.”

Eddie blinked, his jaw dropping. “Are you telling me those absolutely horrific songs that you have been putting out is a deliberate fuck you to your record label?”

Steve laughed, bright and beautiful and Eddie’s heart clenched at the sound. God, if this kept up, Eddie would have to admit to being in love with this boy.

“Yep,” Steve said, popping the P.

Eddie laughed too. “Oh my god, that makes so much more sense, because you are so fucking talented...”

“And those songs are shit?” Steve teased.

“You have no idea, Stevie,” Eddie said grinning.

The car came to a stop and they were at their hotel.

“We’re at the hotel,” Eddie said as they all piled out.

Steve let out another shuddering breath. “‘Kay, now stay in the lobby or go to the restaurant.”

Jeff and Eddie share glance as they do as Steve asked.

They all huddle around the phone at a table in the hotel restaurant. They order drinks and an appetizer.

“What’s going on, Steve?” Brian asked.

“Okay,” Steve said, “I want to apologize for the cloak and dagger routine, but you guys were in the club of the biggest crime lord in the Austin area.”

The Corroded Coffin boys went offline.

After a moment Gareth squeaked, “Come again?”

“I’m going to send you a link to the documentary I did the voice over for a couple years back on the guy,” Steve said. “But the tl’dr of the whole thing is that he is absolutely the most dangerous man you’ll ever meet.”

“Fuck,” Eddie hissed. “I pissed him off.”

Steve let out a noise that was somewhere in the vicinity of a whimper and a scream. “Why?”

“He wanted me to stay in town tomorrow,” Eddie explained, “and let the band take the bus to the next venue and then I would take his private jet to Santa Fe to be in time for the sound check.”

“Oh,” Steve breathed as though he had been sucker punched. “Oh god. I’m so glad you turned him down, but Jesus H Christ, Eds.”

Eddie nodded even though Steve couldn’t see him. “What would have happened, Stevie?” There was silence. “Don’t. Don’t go there. Don’t make me find out from a fucking documentary. Just...tell me.”

“Depends on what he wanted from you, I guess,” he whispered.

Eddie closed his eyes and could fill in the rest. Yeah, he wouldn’t have made it out of Austin. He would have been drugged and ‘he’ would send a message to the band that he was staying in Austin with Henry Creel. And then probably dropped off a complete mess, addicted to all kinds of drugs and drunk off his ass in the middle of nowhere when Henry was done with him.

“Shit, Steve-o,” Jeff murmured. “What would this dude want with Eddie?”

“My guess?” Steve said solemnly. “A pet rockstar. Who better then Eddie Munson of Corroded Coffin? He probably would have let Eddie release a couple of solo albums just to prove how much control he had over him, but yeah. It’s fucking terrifying.”

“What should we do?” Gareth asked.

Steve took in a deep breath. “Take a flight to Santa Fe. Have the bus follow behind. Make sure your instruments are on separate bus.”

Jeff let out a whine. “You have to understand how insane that sounds.”

“I know,” Steve murmured. “But I really, really don’t want to read the headline tomorrow night that your tour bus rolled over and you’re dead or in the hospital on life support.”

“Babe,” Eddie said desperate. “I’ll do it for your sake. But shit this sounds batshit crazy.”

“Just–just watch the documentary, okay,” Steve said softly. “And then tell me I’m being paranoid.”

Brian buried his head in his hands and dragged his fingers over his face. “No, I’m with Steve on this one. That place gave of these vibes that screamed death and pain. And if this guy is even an ounce of evil he says he is, then we do as Steve-o says.”

The band looked around the table and then nodded.

*

Later that night when they were huddled in Eddie’s hotel room on the bed as the credits rolled on the documentary Steve sent them, the room as so silent a pin dropping would have sounded like a bomb going off.

“Okay,” Gareth said, his voice trembling. “Does anyone else think Steve undersold how creepy this guy is?”

Brian let out a shaky breath. “Maybe not quite undersold, but yeah, I don’t think there is anyone that would have believed it if not for the documentary.”

“Now I understand why he was blowing up our phones,” Jeff murmured.

But Eddie stayed silent. He tapped out a message on his phone.

-I’m sorry I scared you. But after seeing the doc, I don’t think I could have avoided meeting him if I wanted to.

A brief moment passed before Eddie got a response.

-I’m starting to get that, yeah. I’m so glad you got out of there, you have no idea.

Eddie sighed and laid down on the bed. The rest of the band cuddled around him.  

-Looks like Corroded Coffin is avoiding Austin for a while.

Steve message was almost instantaneous.

-I’m sorry sunshine. I’m sorry he picked you.

Eddie shook and Gareth pulled him closer.  

-I’m glad you reached out. How did you find out about it anyway?

-Gareth’s ig auto updates his location so fans know where you guys are if you guys are down to party

Eddie kissed Gareth hard on the top of his head. “You absolute menace! I love you!”

Gareth looked up at him confused. “What did I do?”

“Steve found out where we were because your god damn Instagram!” Eddie kissed his head again.

Gareth’s eyes went wide. “Seriously? Mine or CCofficial?”

Eddie asked.

-CCofficial, but it’s the worst kept secret that it’s Gareth that runs it.

“He says official,” he told the band.

Jeff sat up and pulled out his phone. He began searching through the millions of followers on their official Instagram. “Holy shit, guys. He’s been following us for as long as we’ve had ig account.”

Brian shrugged. “We all know he’s a fan. So what if he’s been our fan since the beginning?”

The rest of them thought about that for a minute and then shrugged.

-Good to know

-Me and the boys are all in my hotel room and going to sleep now

Steve sent back a message

-Sweet dreams, and let me know when you’re on your way out of town

-Will do, babydoll

Eddie set his phone on the nightstand and snuggled up with his band. It had been a couple of years since they had to do this, but they all knew they would sleep better together than apart.

One by one the boys dropped off until it was just Eddie watching over the men that had become his family. The Munsons had always run thin aground on the genetic department, but Eddie had found his family as surely as god made them.

***

Part 9  Part 10  Part 11  Part 12  Part 13  Part 14 Part 15  Part 16

Tag List:

@bejeweledbaby @eboyawstenn @moonshadows-13 @ohlook-afrog @goodolefashionedloverboi @linkydinky06 @livelaughlexa @spectrum-spectre @cutepumpkin4 @whatthemeepever @gleek4twd @anything-thats-rock-and-roll @novelnovella @celtrose-ish @artiststarme @plasticcrotches  @failedstarsandgoldenclouds @anaibis @nelotegreitic @steddieassheg0es @abstractnaturaldisaster @scheodingers-muppet @tiny-enthusiast @yes-im-your-mom @thegingerrapunzel @milf-harrington @avacrebs @gregre369 @raisedbylibrarians @reverseteehee @lillys-weird-world @deadlydodos @runyousillydetective @justrandomfandomstm @piebook67 @clumsywriter @donttouchmycarrots @fiore-della-valle @idkareallyreallygoodname  @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @ravenpainter @ellietheasexylibrarian @maya-custodios-dionach @child-of-cthulhu

[aeori-o]

Happy New Year! 1/3 (Tumblr why)

My oldest posts that I did for New Year’s just started with that very simple title and I’m feeling nostalgic. But I also like the ‘Farewell’ of 2021 so I guess we’ll see what I stick with as time goes on. (Also dang, would you look at that, fucking COVID is still around.)

Part 2 || Part 3

It’s funny, the more time goes on the more I actually want (as in: I remember and am then driven) to get stuff done ahead of time. All through school (which was forever ago) I really struggled with doing any task that wasn’t immediate. Homework didn’t exist until the night before (and the only reason I didn’t forget entirely was because I talked to people who would ask if I was done and I’d go Oh Shit), any basic task anyone asked me to do I would forget existed because it couldn’t be done immediately (and I also chaffed under tasks being sprung on me out of nowhere that had to be done immediately). Now I get the urge to do things ahead of time, with the same focus and drive that usually only showed up when something was ‘due’. The former is still a problem for a lot of things but somehow my brain has decided that sometimes we can and will remember to do a task ahead of time and get it done.

Which is to say I am currently writing this from December 26, 2023 and whenever I get tired of writing it today I’ll pick up tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after, until I post it. I just decided: Fuck it, instead of binge-writing this right at the end of the year we’re basically at the end of the year and I just want to chill the fuck out. I just had a mad dash to write something for my sister I don’t want to mad-dash write again. I think I wrote last year’s write-up a few days before but this time I want to be so deliberately chill. I just want to gently coast up to the new year. Which is good because I did a stupid amount of things this year and this has been the longest year-wrap-up I’ve ever done. Is anyone actually going to read this to the end? Maybe but these are mostly for me. I always like scrolling back through these and this year is a doozy. Who gave me the gumption to do so much stuff. And despite all that I just said It is January 1st and I am mad-dashing writing the second half of this and editing it.

Without further ado let’s get into it.

I dropped my goal to 25 books because I was in the last week of the year at 26 out of 30 books read like “yeah I can read 4 books in a week” and then I was like “yeah but… fuck it let’s not.” Why barrel towards the end of the year, panic reading books to reach some arbitrary number I set for myself. That’s not really how I want to read and experience books so… I won’t. I read 26 books this year and 17 graphic novels for a total of 43. Which is only 4 lower than my total from last year so despite reading a lot less that’s not bad at all.

I kept it the same as the previous year: Read for 30m a day, catch up days allowed. At this point what I usually wind up doing is reading a lot on one day and counting it toward multiple days. Same amount of time reading, but doing it in chunks. If I read for 6 hours on one day I highlight 12 days (30 minutes a day) on the calendar. That might sound confusing but my main focus is having spent the time reading and doing a task every single day just does not work with my brain.

I do it this way because the time-spent is the same but filling out a calendar like this is way more satisfying than just highlighting one day that I spent a lot of time reading on. Anyway as you can see my summer was largely spent not reading. A huge chunk of my summer my brain was taken up by wrapping my sister’s car (more on that later), from May to August I basically read almost nothing. It’s hard to remember to highlight in the calendar for other tasks I do (especially when it’s a task where I don’t know exactly how much of my time it will be taking up) but I do think it would be fun to be able to have a highlight calendar (or time track in some other way) to be able to see what I was doing when something didn’t happen on another calendar. I don’t have a super feasible way to set that up, though (as fun as it would be) so I don’t think I’ll be doing that.

Anyway, as always, I love the goodreads yearly recap:

Once again my average rating is “high” not because every book I read this year ruled but because I now use stars as a “would recommend”, “would probably recommend”, “my feelings are so Nothing I neither recommend nor not recommend”, “mostly don’t recommend”, and “do not read this” instead of the recommended level of how much I liked it. This means not a lot of books wind up below 3 stars anymore. I am also increasingly perplexed when I look at reviews for a book, see someone said nothing but good things about a book… and rated it three stars. It’s like dang, what does three stars mean to you.

I was shocked to see how few people had shelved The Game of 100 Candles though. I don’t know if people are scared away from it because that series is technically part of a table top role-playing game universe but the books absolutely stand up as their own thing. I’ll talk about it more in a bit, and then probably again when the final book comes out. But here’s the wall of books I read this year:

When I was thinking about what I read this year I could only really think of the books I had read recently and was like “man I don’t think I really read anything super good this year” but I did have some fun, cozy reads in there. So as has become custom I’m going to talk about some. Just so I don’t keep going forever I’m going to do a ‘top five’ kind of thing and then some honorable mentions.

As mentioned I was utterly shocked that Marie Brennan’s The Game of 100 Candles was shelved so few times and looking back at the first book, The Night Parade of 100 Demons, it’s only been rated 132 times (which is still 100 times more than the second book). This series isn’t done yet but it’s such a delightful and heartwarming read. It’s basically this quiet samurai from a smaller clan who has a lot of secrets he has to keep a lid on for the best of his clan and himself who has to figure out what’s going on with the demons/yokai in this village on the edge of their territory. Meanwhile another, bigger and more wealthy, clan has sent one of their much more extroverted scholars to the same village to also see what’s going on. They both have things to hide from each other but wind up falling for each other. It’s a really fun fantasy romp with a very sweet gay relationship that grows out of it.

Then the second book has them re-meeting and understanding the consequences of something they did in the first book so it also has some chronic illness (even if it’s magical and not 1:1 with anything in real life) representation. I’ve found both books very good so far and if anyone reading this is inclined to pick up anything I recommend I really hope it’s these. They’re so good.

So I really, really did not like Uprooted by the same author, Naomi Novik. A friend read this though and liked it overall and my sister-in-law happened to give me her copy (she didn’t like it) so I figured I may as well give it a shot and I was so pleasantly surprised. The way the faeries (which aren’t called faeries but whatever) work in this world is so cool, the magic is so cool, I really loved how the author managed to ride that thin line between everything feeling cohesive and like it ‘makes sense’ while relying on not overly explaining anything which means she had to rely on things ‘intuitively’ making sense which can be very hit or miss. It really hit for me and it was always fun getting to a point in the book where it felt like the plot was winding down only for it to get back up again. I was so delighted by this one I wanted to include it here.

Similarly I wanted to include this duology, The Assassin’s Curse Series by Cassandra Rose Clarke. I’m not sure I recommend them. The narrative voice is a little strong (I think it gets better in the second book but I also might have become desensitized to it) and overall the plot and characters aren’t anything to write home about. It did really scratch an itch I didn’t know I had for the most ridiculous ‘refusing to communicate’ relationship dynamic ever. I had a great time but I mostly wanted to mark these here on my New Year’s post because I read these a decade ago around the same time in the year and they’re a fun marker of how far I’ve come and how much the way I track books has come. I only had a rating for these from 2013, and now I have a long document of notes. I don’t know if I actually will reread these in another decade, but if I do it will be fun to compare how I feel then to how I feel now, and I wish I could have done the same to my 2013 self.

Going forward, though, I do want to re-read something I read a decade ago at least once a year. I think it will be fun especially once I start butting up against the books that do have notes written on them. I had a really good time with these and I want to continue circling back to what I’ve read before.

Hold Me Tight by Dr. Sue Johnson is a great read even if you’re not doing the exercises inside it. It’s a self-help book which I tend to roll my eyes at (maybe that’s unfair of me) but Dr. Johnson uses examples from her own practice and backs up claims and theories with scientific studies. It’s a really solid and insightful read, it took me a long time to get through because with nonfiction I tend to be much more thorough in my notes and I was reading this at the same time as other books but it was a phenomenal read. Even though it’s catered to romantic-relationships I honestly think it applies and shows insights that are applicable to any close relationship (romantic or platonic). I really enjoyed reading it.

I don’t see asexual characters often so Loveless by Alice Oseman really touched me. It’s funny, the first time I encountered ace representation in a book I really didn’t like it. I was, unfairly, annoyed that the author hadn’t captured my experience. And oh boy do I see a lot of that in the reviews of this book online, non-ace people upset that the asexual lead “shames” sexual people (she just doesn’t get it, which is not the same as shaming someone). Asexual people are upset that this isn’t their experience and remember fellow readers there are other ways of being asexual even though this book pretends there’s only one! (The book is told from one POV, of course it only reflects one experience.) There were things I really related to in this one, and other things I didn’t but overall it was a great read and I am very glad that there is so much more representation to be found in books these days.

So my actual honourable mentions are: Legends & Lattes by Travis Baldree which was just a very charming, fun romp. I enjoyed my time with it and look forward to reading the second book. The Deep by Rivers Solomon which was insightful, depressing, and hopeful. It’s very short so if you look up the content warnings and think you can handle it I would absolutely recommend it. And Convenience Store Woman by Sayaka Murata which is a very wild book that is maybe making an argument for fair wages for all or maybe ‘just’ a story about a neurodivergent queen, I don’t know.

The final two books in the Market of Monsters series by Rebecca Schaefer are on there because I mentioned the first book in my write-up for last year and while I overall had a really good time with the series (I find there’s always something almost relaxing about a book/series where the protagonists are terrible people) the ending left something to be desired. I’m not crazy about characters just going ‘yeah, we’re evil and we like it that way’ especially when the rest of the series was the character’s doing “evil” things because the other option was having evil done unto them. Oh well.

And Emily Wilde’s Encyclopaedia of Faeries by Heather Fawcett is peeking in because as far as I can tell people love this book (it came out this year and has been popular) but it really didn’t work for me. I’m spoiled because Marie Brennan’s Lady Trent series does what this is trying to do but succeeds, I just could not buy into the fiction that this is this woman’s journal from out in the field. I would enjoy myself when I forgot it was supposed to be a journal and then get annoyed every time I was reminded. I probably would have enjoyed it a lot more if it hadn’t bothered with the “this is a journal” conceit (or if it had done that well) but what can you do. It is a fun book, I get why people like it, but it was driving me wild (in a bad way).

And before I move onto graphic novels here’s some fun stuff from storygraph:

Onto graphic novels.

Ducks by Kate Beaton was the standout one here. Really incredible auto-biographical comic. My Wandering Warrior Existence by Kabi Nagata and The Girl that can’t get a Girlfriend by Mieri Hiranishi which were both really interesting auto-biographical comics that both revolved around sexuality and identity. Kabi Nagata’s comics, in general, can be very stressful to read but they’re so good. And the rest were fun! I was recommended the Given series made by Natasuki Kizu by a friend and it was charming, it’s not done and I haven’t checked in a while if more is out in English but, while charming, it hasn’t really captured me. Harley Quinn: The Animated Series: The Eat. Bang! Kill. Tour by Tee Franklin (and art and colour by Max Sarin and Marissa Louise respectively) was a really delightful little romp—and I have not watched Harley Quinn: The Animated Series. The art is just so freaking cute and while I have basically no knowledge or investment in the DC universe it was really nice seeing Ivy and Harley together. Horizon Zero Dawn: The Sunhawk by Anne Toole (and Ann Maulina doing the art) was mostly just amusing, I think it came out before Horizon Forbidden West did but I happened to read it right in the middle of Talanah’s quest in that game so I read the comic and then got to hear Talanah tell me about it in the game when I played it two days later. And finally The Adventure Zone: The Eleventh Hour was fun and, like always, just made me want to go and relisten to the podcast.

I’m making my goal 30 books again, and if some unforeseen project takes up the majority of my brain space I have no problem with dropping it to whatever it winds up being at the end of the year. And my filled in boxes will count for 30 minutes a day again. I’ve been setting the goodreads goal for the graphic novels to 5 just because chances are I’ll probably read at least five but it’s also not a hard goal.

Last year I mentioned wanting to read one book I own in my tbr pile for every library book I took out and looking at the books (not graphic novels) 15 out of the 26 were ones I owned (or were in my book pile being loaned to me by others) so that’s not bad! (The graphic novels I am also less pressed on this front—I have a small stack of them waiting to be read but 12 graphic novels take a lot less time for me to read than 12 novels.) I am pleased to have 15 fewer books in my tbr pile! Granted, two of those were books I had read a long time ago so they were previously on my not-tbr shelves but… well whatever.

I’m probably going to be watching a few more films after writing this as part of the lead up to New Years (I did, I have changed the numbers to reflect that) but, once again, the amount of movies/shows/etc. I’ve watched has again worked out to be in the 40s. I have watched 46 things this year, which is the exact same amount as last year. I am finding it really interesting that it always seems to work out to being in the 40s. I am extra tickled it’s the exact same amount as last year. Film I don’t really feel any desire nor make any effort to meet any sort of quota each year, I just sort’ve watch what I want to watch (or what I get roped into watching) and for the past four years it seems to work out to low-40s every single time. I am so, so curious to see if this is some sort of bizarre fluke or if this will continue into the future.

Just like with books, because a year is such a long length of time, without tracking what I watched this year it’s easy to sit here at the end of the year thinking I didn’t really see much. But then I look at my list of things I watched and go “holy shit I watched so many good things this year.” The power of tracking things, it’s incredible. As for new films/films-I-watched-for-the-first-time…

There’s some films from this year that I contemplated including on the graphic just to have them easy to spot as a reference point in time—like the Barbie movie and The Last of Us—because they were such big hits and while there’s more I really liked this year I didn’t want to make the image preposterously huge (says guy who wrote this before writing later sections in which they made preposterously huge images). And I also didn’t want to cram everything on in the weirdest way possible like I did last year (why did I do that).

Steph actually had me watch Knives Out and Glass Onion on New Year’s Day (which I don’t remember but that’s what I wrote down) and I really enjoyed both! I had been avoiding them because they just didn’t seem like my kind of thing but I was very glad to have been proven wrong.

I feel like I’ve been mostly out of the anime/manga world for a long time so I was surprised to see how much I had watched this year. Most of it I watched with friends and all of it was a good time even when the shows sucked. Chainsaw Man also surprised me, both because it is (so far) a very good show (I will cry if there is some kind of horrible training arc), and because Steph recommended it after not being sure if they would even finish the first season. I am very glad they did because this show is wicked cool. And then Trigun Stampede was so good that I started re-watching the 1998 show, and then all the friends I watched Stampede with wanted to watch the 1998 show so I stopped, and then nobody watched the 1998 show. Trigun Stampede was overall a delight even if I am mildly perplexed at the 1998 show had way more female characters than the new show does (but also Vash isn’t putting on a weird lecherous front and is just Baby so, it works out).

I waffled on whether or not to included Dungeons & Dragons: Honor among Thieves because it’s not like it was life changing or anything but I had a really good time watching it, and I had a really good time talking about it. It’s just a really fun film that didn’t feel like it was bogged down by trying to be anything else.

The Green Knight I had wanted to see since it came out and finally got around to it this year, twice, because the first time I watched it with someone who will usually fight me on putting on subtitles so I just had no idea what 90% of the words spoken meant the first time I watched it. Despite understanding almost nobody I really enjoyed every other aspect of the film and it was surprisingly watchable. Gorgeous film, great acting, great soundtrack, all over a fantastic time. The second time I watched it was with subtitles on and it still ruled.

It’s been such a long time since I read Nimona. I read it in its entirety when it was still online for free so I don’t know how long ago that was. After watching the film I wondered about going back to re-read it online and found that (I assume since being traditionally published) it’s no longer available. I’m glad for the author but also sad that we live in a capitalist hellscape that can’t let things be free. I have yet to re-read the comic and still plan to but the movie is gorgeous. I am so, so glad that more 3D movies are breaking away from the default style Disney had established when moving to 3D that everyone seemed afraid to stray too far from. I am genuinely so thankful we’re getting 3D movies with style now. Not to go on a tangent but I saw some video (or maybe it was a post?) recently where someone was going on about how the different art styles movies are being made in is now ‘less special’ because everyone is doing it and I don’t understand how someone could think more diverse styles could ever be a bad thing. People don’t do it to be ‘special’ people do it because they see beauty in different ways. Anyway. Nimona made me cry three times. I absolutely recommend it.

And of course, Spider-man: Across the Spider-verse. I went into this not knowing it was a two parter and I think that’s my only real upset with this movie. I was getting so nervous toward the end when I realized the runtime was almost up and there were so many loose ends to tie up, and then I realized it must be a two-parter. I was relieved to be right but also wish I went in knowing so I wouldn’t have to have the HOW ON EARTH ARE THEY GOING TO PULL THIS OFF stress. Otherwise this movie is more gorgeous than the original and I’m really liking where the story is going. I’ve been meaning to re-watch it and haven’t gotten around to it (I could not understand Hobbie on the first viewing) but this movie made me realize that physical media is getting harder to get. All the big stores have basically eradicated their movie/show sections and replaced all of that with one little ‘recent releases’ stand. Older things can still be ordered online but I am very nervous about all our media being in the hands of streaming companies and harder to own.

There were some other things I saw this year like, as mentioned, Barbie and The Last of Us that I also really enjoyed. Steph had me watched Midnight Mass which was sad but good. Vin and I watched the Lockwood & Co adaptation which was surprisingly good (and, of course, cancelled because why market something when you can just decide it failed). I’ve been watching a show called The Afterparty which I’m really enjoying.

I also re-watched a lot of things this year, many with friends.

I found out Vin hadn’t seen Moulin Rouge so I had to fix that. I don’t remember when the last time I watched this movie was but it’s so much fun and it looks like everyone had a good time acting in it. We had actually watched Van Helsing first (which ruled, for some reason in my memory this movie sucked but it was awesome and they do some astonishingly good looking stuff considering its age) and I can’t quite remember how Moulin Rouge came up (I am certain it was RP related, though) but when I realized the Duke in Moulin Rouge was the same actor as Count Dracula in Van Helsing that sealed the deal. I need to watch more of that man’s work, he’s a delight onscreen. I was also just totally shocked that it was Hugh Jackman as Van Helsing. I’m terrible with actors but when one I know is in something like this it’s always surprising to me.

Steph played the original Silent Hill game for all of us (which was also very fun) and we decided to watch the first Silent Hill movie afterwards as well. This was another one I hadn’t watched in years, I probably hadn’t watched it since I was a teen, and by default I seem to assume anything I saw a long time ago probably sucks. Once again I was proven wrong, the film’s not perfect but overall it’s a great watch. The costuming is incredible (especially for the monsters) which I did remember, but also:

Wow she looks awesome. Everyone was hooting and hollering when her helmet came off. (Shame about the jacket, though, and being a cop). And then Steph found us every lesbian amv they could with Cybil and Rose. It ruled.

We watched Darker than Black because, again, Vin had never seen it. I’ve rewatched this show a few times over the years and this is the first time I’ve watched further than Season 1. I didn’t enjoy Season 2 when I originally watched this show and never finished it, and still didn’t like Season 2 this time but the OVA for Season 2 was mysteriously really good. Izanagi’s design was awesome, though, even if nothing else was. The first season was also still really good, really cool, and I always forget about the weird this-must-have-been-inspired-by-Evangelion bit at the end. I will absolutely be watching the first season again at some point in the future, and maybe season 2’s OVA but not the rest. I’m not strong enough.

And I had the pleasure of showing my step-sister Howl’s Moving Castle. She had seen The Boy and the Heron and was interested in watching more Ghibli films and knew I liked them, so I decided to start with the one that everyone I’ve talked to lately says is their favourite Ghibli film (or one of their favourites if they can’t choose). It’s been a while since I last watched Howl and it was great to see it again. Steph and I also watched some more Ghibli films for New Year’s Eve and Princess Mononoke still rules and The Cat Returns remains as charming as ever.

I also rewatched Kill Bill this year which I enjoyed this time around a lot more than I did the last time I watched. Part of me is like: I should also write down my movie/show thoughts. The other part of me is like: Let’s not make homework for ourselves for everything we do. With stuff like this though it’s like man why did it hit so different. I rewatched some other stuff, too, of course but nothing I have much to say about.

I started 32 games this year and finished 32 (and 100%’d 4 of those). Spoilers: A huge chunk of that total number are Humongous Entertainment (HE) games that I played as a child. Let’s get into it.

I don’t know what happened last year with Nintendo’s thing but they are back to giving more info, unfortunately I barely touched my Switch this year.

By which I mean I played it a lot, but only two games. I think I almost exclusively played Splatfests this year after finishing the single player campaign and Pokemon Scarlet I have been picking at so slowly that I am still not done it (DLC just came out but I am still in the middle of the preceding DLC).

I’m assuming I missed the July splatfest, and I also missed the November one though I swear I chose a team so I don’t know what happened there. I guess I just got immediately distracted somehow. You may be wondering where Tears of the Kingdom is because everyone with a Switch played it this year. After hunting down a collector’s copy of Tears of the Kingdom, because I missed the pre-order for it somehow, instead of playing it I, for no real reason, decided I was going to play every single other Zelda instead and end it off with TotK.

So my 3DS and my N64 got more of a workout than my Switch did this year. For my Zelda-replay I mostly want to go in order but I wanted to start with the N64 titles first as those were my childhood Zeldas. Majora’s Mask is my favourite in the franchise, it’s the first Zelda I ever beat, and Ocarina of Time I never beat before starting this project. As a kid my friend’s brother would play on my OoT cartridge (his save file is still on it and I will never get rid of it) and then I’d just go mess around in his file. I was pretty familiar with the young-Link dungeons but almost all of the adult temples were a mystery to me. I got the 3DS version of the game at some point with the intention of finally playing OoT myself… and then still didn’t until this year. So I have now played: Majora’s Mask 3DS, Majora’s Mask N64, Ocarina of Time 3DS, Ocarina of Time: Master Quest 3DS, and before watching Ghibli films Steph and I finished off Ocarina of Time N64.

Images that make you feel nostalgic (I took this when trying to do the archery courses in Majora’s Mask because aiming is very hard when you only have one stick to do it on).

I don’t think I’m going to be playing every version available for the other entries in the Zelda series but as these ones have a special place in my heart and life I thought I’d do them justice that way. I’ve gone from knowing very little about Ocarina of Time to knowing where everything is in the game almost as well as I know Majora. I still think Majora is the stronger game overall and playing it like this it’s really clear to see how Majora, as a direct sequel, was improved on after Ocarina but it definitely has some totally mystifying problems that Ocarina didn’t have. (That said: The 3DS version ruins all the bosses in the game, they’re terrible, the N64 version is much better in how it feels to play. If you are going to play Majora’s Mask I recommend following a walkthrough, I adore this game but it definitely helps that at this point I know it so well that I almost never have to just wait around for things to happen because I can cram other things in if I have to wait for something.)

I don’t know how much time I spent playing the N64 Zeldas, but the 3DS does track that stuff and I played Majora’s Mask 3DS for 29 hours (sometimes a co-worker would play so I’m not sure how much of that time was her messing around) and Ocarina of Time 3D was almost 60 hours (so I’m assuming 30 hours for regular and 30 hours for Master Quest). I’m really looking forward to playing the rest of the Zeldas! My plan right now is to (finally) finish up some other games and play BotW as I play the oldest Zelda games just because it seems like TotK builds off BotW so I’m worried if I do those two in order I’ll wind up burnt out on TotK. I might not, but I also don’t want to risk it. Here’s my graphic for games I wanted to finish this year from last year:

Of the games I said I wanted to finish last year I was right in being so confident about Fahrenheit and Haunting Ground. As games that I was playing for friends it was a lot easier to be on top of them and beat them. Fahrenheit I even 100%’d because I have a weird obsession with 100%ing David Cage games (it was still a terrible game but was very fun to play with friends). Haunting Ground was a delight from start to finish, I know people want a remake but I’m not sure it’s the kind of game that would get made today.

.hack//G.U. I’m not too fussed on not finishing, it’s a long game and I was trying to show it to Vin so I’m not surprised it got lost in the shuffle. Pokemon Scarlet I’m also not fussed on having not finished because its DLC just came out—I beat all the base game stuff but haven’t done the DLC yet (well, I’m partway through the first DLC). That one I’ll finish this year, for sure. .hack//G.U. I’m not sure when I’ll return to it.

Horizon Forbidden West and Pokemon Legends Arceus I’m not sure how they kept slipping behind but I really want to beat those, preferably soon. I’m very good at getting busy with things, though, and then I feel too guilty to play games outside of times when I’m not doing it as a social activity with friends. I need to figure that out. Anyway for this upcoming year the ongoing games I have that I want to beat are:

I didn’t realize until I was reviewing this image that I accidentally went red-blue, blue-red, red-blue and I’m kind of laughing at how that turned out. I realize Folklore is more pink-y and Hades is really dark but the back and forth of red and blue games is amusing to me.

Three of these are the ones that slipped through the cracks this year that I already mentioned. Folklore I’m playing for friends right now (I’m having a good time but also what is even going on) so I’m pretty confident I’ll have that beat sooner than later. Hades I’ve been meaning to get back to forever, I mentioned it in my New Year’s post last year but maybe if I make it as a thing I can check-off next year I’ll actually get to it (or maybe not, who knows). And Tears of the Kingdom is here because that (should) be the last Zelda I play in my weird sudden desire for a Zelda marathon so by getting to and beating that one it means I’ve played all the rest.

Before I go over to steam I wanted to start chronicling the seasons of Fortnite I play through. I count each season as a game-played, and even though the experience is mostly social I still sink as many hours into a season of Fortnite as I would any single other game, so I wanted to start posting the season pictures as a memory-thing. Here they are:

And the most recent season is ongoing and won’t be done until sometime in 2024 (so I’ll post it on next year’s). I find it’s a fun social game to play, easy to hop on and off of, and while there’s a story the game is so gameplay focused that it really doesn’t matter if you do not pay attention to whatever anyone is yammering on about. I was shocked to discover there’s a community of people really into the Fortnite story. Good for them, I’m here to drive cars around the map excessively and be the quest-Adderall for my friends.

A friend had me try Destiny 2 earlier this year but I found the game weirdly ‘hostile.’ The gameplay itself is great, it feels really good to play, but the game does nothing to try and draw new players into the story in a way that feels good. We played for a while, I got up to rank 5 or something? Level 5? There was some weird progression thing and we got through all the basic-stuff and it was really trying to drive us into Lightfall-stuff (I think it was Lightfall that just released at the time) but the story was just incomprehensible. People are telling us to go places and do things and that some-guy is doing something and so on and so forth and it just felt weird. It didn’t help that I was having some bizarre computer issues at the time. I don’t know if I want to play more of it, honestly. I still have it on my computer and keep it updated just in case but I’m starting to wonder if I should free up that 100GB (jesus). Right now I really don’t need to, but I think about it.

The other social game I really got into this year was Plate Up!

I was introduced to it by a streamer, TheScareLab on Twitch, and it is so much fun. It’s a great game for me if I have a few minutes and don’t really want to get into something I can fire it up and work away at trying to make a fully automated restaurant (rng hates me) but it’s also very fun to play with others. Mostly it’s just me and my partner who play but sometimes other folks join in. The screencap is from their Halloween event I was delighting in being able to make hamburgers float in midair. There’s another holiday event on right now, actually, but I’ve been too busy with irl holiday stuff to check it out.

I love the steam recaps, both mine and looking at all my friends’ but I’ll just post mine here--OOPS Tumblr only lets you do 30 images per post and I'm unhinged, I'm unstoppable. To be continued in part two! I'll link it once it's up! Tumblr Why.

Next >>

[explosionshark]

3, 15, 55! and also please identify the most gothic powerful vampire song on it. the people need to know

edited to do this GAME RIGHT bc i forgot it was about lyrics :')

3. Direction by Mat Kerekes (feat. Anthony Green) - so this is a track off the debut solo album of Mat Kerekes, singer of beloved emo band Citizen. The guest vocals are by Anthony Green of Circa Survive. But what I really wanna talk about is the production, bc this is the first record I listened to that really made me aware of Will Yip. This is an acoustic record, really stripped down and organic sounding, and Kerekes plays all the music except for some percussion provided by Yip - it all sounds so bright and airy. The guitar tone has this gorgeous twangy pop, the percussion sounds like someone slapping a pattern out right next to your ear. Admittedly, this is probably so high up on the list bc it was on a playlist i made when i went insane and wrote a 90k word fanfic earlier this year, but still - love this song, love this record. The Anthony Green verse at the end is so dramatic and good "I could be anything that you wanted / I wouldn't mind if you handed me a loaded gun / Crack a smile while you turn the safety off / I'll destroy anything that you want me to / Help me try and understand what you're going through"

15. Ladders of Supremacy by Coheed & Cambria - I'm not here to convince anyone to listen to Coheed bc I don't think anyone should. They just happen to be my favorite band (derogatory). However, in their extensive catalogue this track still manages to stand out - by being the exact thing they do really, really well. It literally always works on me. I'd consider this song the first part of a three part suite that closes out the record (a concept album, per usual). There's an incredibly sexy bass line on this song, a great chorus, kinda filthy bluesy guitar work, and a shockingly jazzy drum performance from Josh Eppard. It's just peak Coheed prog bullshit and I'm so weak to it. So, this Coheed album is the second part of a record that came out in 2019 and it's about a kid who uhh perceives all of time at once? And also his parents who are sci-fi bank robbers/theater performers? Who the fuck cares. "Stay down, boy, see, ya got clowned, boy" is Typical Claudio Nonsensery but the delivery is so fun. Down BWAAH see ya got clowned BWAAAH

55. Wear U Down by Teenage Wrist - I Am Not Immune To Shoegazey Alt Rock. Actually I was surprised tracks off this record weren't higher in my play count this year, bc I feel like I listened to it a lot? I don't have as much to say about this - great fuzzy guitars, love the snare tone. "I'll wear you down, down down" is not a very articulate or impressive chorus, but it sure is fun to sing along with in the car. There's a great lyrical book end in the first verse and the last that goes "Stomp me out / I'm burning red but now I'm done" and then later "Stomp me out / Before I burn another hole" and who among us hasn't poorly ashed a cigarette and found this relatable?

out of these three songs I'd say the biggest gothic powerful vampire energy is probably teenage wrist. but that's grading on hard curve.

out of my whole top 100, biggest gothic powerful vampire energy is When Will God's Work Be Done by Unto Others. This is a GREAT song - big Sisters of Mercy But Heavier vibes. Very goth adjacent imo. This vocalist is incredible. He makes all kinds of great noises - OUGHHHH! HUAAGHH! AUUH! GAUGHDD! WHEN WILL GOD'S WORK BE DONE! Anyway very vampy lyrics + a great evil laugh at the end - "Working all night in the burning dark" / "When a man dies, I feel alive" / "Death, such sweet release" / "Make sure the first bite is the last bite" - yeah! easy win.

[atlabeth]

i owe you one - john b routledge

summary: when john b ends up backed into a corner with all the odds against him, you're the last person he expects to come to his rescue. it turns out a favor is worth a lot more than he thought.

a/n: hahah. so. it has been forever since i posted any writing (2 months i am SO sorry) but i got this idea while i was on a walk and it just happened, so here we are. i wrote this in a fervor over three nights and as usual, no proofreading. also i changed canon a bit so that the final scene happens in the thornton's house instead of kelce's just for convenience. okay thats all enjoy ily<3

wc: 4.6k

warning(s): underage drinking, topper's an asshole and he gets kind of physical w/ the reader (grabbing her arm and pushing her around repeatedly), canon stuff from the end of s1

“God— fuck.”

You glared at the keg in disgust, more beer soaked into your tank top than in your cup. You don’t know how you got the good fortune of ending up as the one who had to handle the brand new keg, but you had no clue how to tap it. You felt like a complete idiot at your first party in the Outer Banks, and even though no one was looking at you your cheeks still burned with embarrassment.

“Woah, hey— need a hand?”

You turned your head to see who your savior was, and it turned out to be a knight in shining island shirt. With tousled brown hair and eyes like honey, you had to actively hide your instinctual reaction with the hopes that the blood would stop rushing to your cheeks at marathon pace. Thankfully he seemed more focused on the keg than you, and he made attaching the pump look a lot easier than you did.

He looked back up at you, holding a hand out for your cup. “Want me to, uh—”

You nodded and passed it to him, and after one cup of foam that he dumped out you had a room temperature cup of beer that you didn’t even like the taste of. When in Rome though, you supposed.

“Thanks,” you laughed after taking a sip, “I definitely owe you one.”

He smiled and ran a hand through his hair, guiding you away from the keg as a new wave of partygoers flooded in. “No problem. I take it you’re not from around here?”

“What gave it away?” you asked dryly. “But no, I’m not. I’m from Florence — staying here for the summer with my cousin.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Italy?”

“God, I wish,” you chuckled. “South Carolina, unfortunately. My mom’s from here, though. She thinks it’s good for me to visit my aunt and my cousin so I can get ‘different experiences’ or some shit.” You shook your head. “I have a feeling I’m gonna be stuck here every summer ‘till college.”

The boy laughed, eyes twinkling, and he held out his hand. “I’m John B. Happy to host your first party in the OBX.”

You shook his hand with a smile. “Y/N. Happy to be here.”

John B had just opened his mouth to say something else when you felt a hand on your shoulder — when you turned your head, you saw it was the reason for your summer trip.

“Why are you over here talking to this pogue?” Topper asked, obvious disdain in his voice as he glared at John B.

“It’s called making friends, Top,” you muttered. “And what the hell is a pogue?”

John B’s entire resolve changed, his lips tightening into a frown as he gave you an odd look. “Your cousin is Topper Thornton?”

“Yeah, and she’s one of us,” he remarked. “So you and your little friends stay away from her unless you wanna get into something, okay?”

Topper turned you around and started steering you away, only letting go of your shoulder when you batted his hand away. “I know you’re new here,” he muttered, “but you’re part of my family, and we have standards. One of which is not talking to people like him.”

You looked over your shoulder and saw that John B was gone, and a small part of your heart sank. At his words, you scoffed and stopped in your tracks, and Topper only complied after an annoyed sigh. “What are you even talking about, Topper? ‘People like him’? What is this, the 1930s?”

He rolled his eyes. “Okay, here’s a rundown on Kildare because apparently you need it. We have money, they don’t. We’re kooks, they’re pogues, and we hate each other. Oil and water — it doesn’t mix. Got it?”

You stared at him, incredulous. “No. Even less so.”

Topper groaned and ran a hand through his hair. “Look, it’s all about status in this place. And as long as you’re a Thornton down here, you have to act like one. So you can either stop being a bitch and hang out with my friends, or you can go home.”

You just scoffed. “I think I’ve had enough of this party anyway.”

He huffed a laugh. “Fine. But you’re walking.”

“Great.” You dumped the rest of your beer in the sand — the alcohol wasn’t even worth all the work you put into trying to get it — and gave Topper a sarcastic smile as you started walking off. “Thanks for the warm welcome, cuz.”

You brushed some of the sand off your skirt as you stepped back onto the pavement, pulling out your phone with a sigh to try and figure out how long it would take to walk from here to Topper’s house. You had to hold back a groan when Google Maps popped up with a total of an hour. The smart thing to do would be to call your aunt, but you doubted she was even at home. You had too much pride for it anyway.

You looked up at the sun that was already starting to set and sighed. It was going to be a long night.

-

Thirty minutes into your pitiful trek home and you were wondering if your spite was worth it. If you knew this was the task you’d be undertaking at the end of the night, you would’ve picked sneakers over Birks, and maybe some shorts over a tennis skirt. Because this sucked.

You instinctively glanced over your shoulder as a car came down the road, but you gripped your phone tighter in your hand as it slowed to a stop a couple feet away from you. An uncomfortable outfit didn’t matter that much if you were about to be murdered, you thought unhelpfully.

But as the door popped open and a familiar face emerged, the weight was lifted off your shoulders.

“John B,” you said, thankful albeit a bit confused. “Is leaving your own party early your style?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Just a concerned citizen. Is leaving parties early then walking home alone at night your style?”

You grimaced. “Touché.”

“What are you doing out here anyway?” he asked, leaning against the side of his van. “I tried looking for you after Topper pulled you away, but I couldn’t find you. Are you not a party person or something?”

“I couldn’t deal with Topper,” you admitted, though you felt a rush of heat to your cheeks that you tried to hide knowing that he looked for you. “He told me this whole thing about kooks and pogues, and— and I just couldn’t deal with it. Is that really what things are like here?”

John B shrugged, a tad uncomfortable. “Yeah, basically. On one side of the islands you got the lowest lows, and on the other half you’ve got the highest highs. The mortgage I can barely afford to pay is probably what your cousin spends every week just doing random shit.”

“Wow.”

His lips quirked up in a momentary smile. “Yeah.”

The silence lasted for a few moments before John B hit the side of his car and opened the door back up, giving you a look. “Want a ride home?”

“Seriously?”

He chuckled and nodded, gesturing to the other side with his head. “I don’t think walking home alone at this time of night is your best idea.”

You smiled and walked around to the other side of the van, sliding the door shut after you hopped in. You were immediately hit with a repulsive smell, your nose scrunching up almost on instinct. “Ugh — is that weed?”

John B laughed a bit as he started the car back up, bearing a sheepish smile as he pulled back onto the road. “Sorry. JJ lit up on the way to the party; I guess trying to air it out didn’t really work.”

You rolled your eyes in mock disdain and opened the window. “Boys.”

You felt his gaze on you for a moment as you smoothed out your skirt, but when you looked back up at him his eyes were on the road. “So,” he started, “what’s it like having Topper Thornton as a cousin?”

You shrugged. “I can’t really tell you because I don’t really know him. This is the first time I’ve actually spent extensive time with him — he and his parents came down when my brother graduated from Clemson and I think I’ve been around him in a couple wedding parties and funerals, but other than that… it doesn’t even feel like we’re cousins. It doesn’t help that my dad kinda hates his mom.”

“Sheesh.” He came to a stop at a sign and glanced at you. “Right or left?”

“Left.”

He nodded and made the turn, taking the chance to look back at you. “Y’know, it honestly sounds like you’re dodging a bullet. Topper seriously sucks.”

“I can already tell,” you chuckled. “I honestly don’t know how I’m gonna survive the rest of the summer with him. I— I just don’t feel like a part of their family at all, you know? It’s so disconnected from how mine is that sometimes I forget our moms are sisters. I already had to go to that stupid Midsummers thing just for appearances, and— get this— my aunt made me go with this random rich kid and take pictures with him just so she could look better. I don’t even remember his name.”

“That’s where I recognized you from!” John B piped up, and when you gave him a strange look he laughed a bit. “You were in that pink dress with the flowers, right?”

You nodded, impressed and surprised. “Yeah. I didn’t even know you were there. I hated that thing.”

He shrugged. “I thought you looked great. Pink is definitely your color.”

You felt your cheeks flush and glanced away, biting back a sheepish smile. “Thanks.”

“It’s easy to compliment someone like you.”

You’d never been so relieved to be pulling up to your house, saved by the metaphorical bell from trying to respond to the smoothest flirting you’ve ever been subjected to.

“Thank you so much for the ride,” you said, starting to unbuckle your seatbelt. “It would’ve been a miserable walk the rest of the way here. Looks like I owe you again.”

“Anytime,” he said, and then he shrugged. “You don’t owe me anything. Your company’s enough.”

You laughed, the heat rushing to your cheeks once more as you opened the door. You were just about to step about when John B spoke up again.

“Hey.” You looked over at him and he smiled, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. “What d’you say you come over to the beach tomorrow and I can teach you some surfing moves? Give you a real taste of what the Outer Banks is like outside of the bubble wrap. Y’know, before you end up going full kook.”

You stared at him, blank faced. “You guys use a lot of slang that I don’t understand.”

John B laughed. “We can add that to the itinerary then. OBX lingo.”

You thought about it for a moment before you gave him a smile of your own and nodded. “That sounds perfect, actually. Uh— tomorrow at noon?”

His grin only widened. “Try 6:30. The waves are best at sunrise.”

You cocked an eyebrow. “That early? Y’know, you’re not doing a very good job selling your friendship.”

John B just shrugged coyly. “Consider it a worthy investment.”

You bit back your smile as you pulled out your phone and offered it to him. “I think adding your number into the pile will make it a much better one.”

His eyes twinkled as he took it. “Sounds like a deal to me.”

-

You did end up going surfing with John B that next morning, and it was the best time you’d had in the Outer Banks since your arrival. Even though you ended up with a myriad of bruises from falling off your board so many times and your eyes stung from all the salt water they had to deal with, you didn’t regret a single second of it. You spent the entire day with him, even going so far as to introduce you to some of his friends — Pope, Kiara, and JJ. Though the three of them were understandably cautious of your relation to Topper, John B’s word seemed enough for them after a couple hours of goofing off at his house.

Unfortunately though, your moments with John B after that day were numbered far fewer than you wanted them to be, mostly because of your aunt coercing you into occupying every second of every day with something productive. Whether it was the occasional SAT prep class she forced you to go to with Topper to ensure his accountability (you decided it was the literal definition of torture after the first session), a party you had to attend just for the sake of looking good as a family (they honestly made you miss your SAT booklet), or trips to the mainland to justify a shopping spree by bringing you along (you now had more clothes in this closet than your one back home), Dr. Cynthia Thornton was intent on making your summer vacation something that wasn’t much like a vacation at all.

It didn’t help that you were apparently part of some kind of kook family — you still didn’t really understand why the dynamics on the islands were this insane — which meant that you always had to be looking good and, by some unsaid law, couldn’t interact with any of the actually decent people you’d met since your arrival. John B and the friends he’d introduced you to fit that bill, but any free moment that you got ended up being spent with them. Their group of pogues was by far the best thing to come out of this ridiculous system.

Tonight was one of your first nights off in what felt like forever thanks to a university meeting running long and keeping your aunt on the mainland, and though you would much rather be down on the beach trying out the new surfing moves John B had taught you or trying to pluck out some semblance of a song on Kiara’s uke, you were practically on house arrest after the most insane thing you had ever heard caught flame around the island.

John B — the same John B that cried when he saw cat videos, the same John B that you caught singing ABBA songs in the bathroom that night you stayed over at his house — was being accused of murdering the fucking sheriff.

Murder. John B.

It wasn’t right. It couldn’t have been right. He had no reason to shoot Sheriff Peterkin, but by word of Ward Cameron, who had apparently seen it first hand, and Deputy Shoupe, who watched her die in front of him, it was true.

It couldn’t be true. You refused to believe it. But Topper sure did, and it was like all his fantasies were coming true in one night — the guy he hated was about to go down for one of the worst things a person could do, and somehow Topper was sure he would be the one to put the final nail in the coffin.

You’d been texting John B nonstop trying to figure out if he was okay or not, even his friends to try and figure out what the hell was going on, but no one was answering. You felt completely useless — what good were the feelings you had for this idiot if you couldn’t help him in any kind of way?

Out of stress, you’d resorted to doing summer AP work with your music blaring into your earbuds at top volume. For some reason, it was helping. John B killing the sheriff didn’t make sense, but value theorems and asymptotes did.

You were jarred out of your calculus work by the sound of rapid knocking — banging, more accurately — against your door, and you only got the chance to take out an earbud before Topper burst into the door, face flushed and a wild look in his eyes.

“What the hell are you so busy with that you didn’t hear me call your name ten times?”

You frowned, pausing your music so you could glare at him. “What are you talking about?”

“There is a murderer in our house, and I have him on lock.”

“What?”

“John B is locked in the laundry room right now,” he said, gesturing with his hands with every word, “okay? So I need you to get downstairs and guard the fucking door so I can go get the police.”

You were still trying to process what he was saying. “Topper, what— what the fuck do you mean that John B is locked in our house right now?”

He heaved an exasperated sigh and ran a shaky hand through his hair. “I mean that he tried to break into our house on his— his fucking escape route or whatever, and we have him now, so you need to stop doing your fucking homework and follow me!”

Still in shock, you pulled your headphones out and followed him down the stairs, stopping in front of the laundry room door with a chair wedged under the doorknob. Topper gestured at the door with his head, obviously wanting you to find out on your own.

“...John B?” you asked tentatively, still not really believing that it was him.

But sure enough, it was. “Y/N? Y/N, oh my god, is that you? You have to let me out of here—”

He sounded so manic and desperate that you had to take a step back, your eyes wide. Topper just hit the door with his fist and laughed. “No can do, Routledge. I’m calling the cops — it’s all over for you, man.”

Topper pulled out his phone, leaning against the door as he dialed the local department. “Hi, this is Topper Thornton, I currently have John B Routledge in custody right now. Yeah, near the 100 block of Church Street— you’re already in the area? Yeah, I will. Thank you so much.”

He shoved his phone in his back pocket and started down the hallway backwards, pointing his finger at you as he spoke. “Don’t fuckin’ move, okay? I’ll be back with the police in five minutes—”

“I’m not deaf, Topper.”

He just rolled his eyes and walked out the front door, and you only felt yourself starting breathing again when it shut behind him. You waited a few seconds just to be sure, and then you inched up to the door again.

“John B?” you said softly, still anxious of Topper somehow overhearing. “It’s just us.”

“Hey.” His voice was so strained and weary that it made your heart ache. “I gotta say, this isn’t really how I imagined our first night together at your house.”

You couldn’t even find it in you to laugh at his — frankly terrible — joke, instead resting your head against the door with a sigh. “What the hell is going on, John B? It’s not true, right?”

“No.” You heard him swallow, and you could almost imagine him running his hand through his hair. “No— Rafe shot her, and Ward’s framing me for it. It—” he sighed as well, “it just spiraled out of control, Y/N. I didn’t want any of this to happen, but now I’m stuck with the whole island against me and I— I have no idea what to do.”

You looked at the front door and it didn’t burst open in a flood of cops, so you took that to mean you had some time. As quietly as you could, you pulled the chair away from under the doorknob then pulled it open, a smile immediately finding its place on your lips at the sight of John B’s face.

He stared at you dumbfounded, as if he expected you to slam the door on his face. But you just stepped back.

“You can start by getting a headstart on the police,” you whispered, your eyes darting back and forth between him and the front door, knowing that any second Topper would come back. “The back door’s on the right; it’ll get you out.”

John B seemed to snap out of it then, nodding repeatedly as he started off. You shut the door as quietly as you opened it and were about to put the chair back under before he spoke up.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked. “Topper will kill you. Every kook will kill you. The police will—”

“Only if they find out.” You shrugged, slipping the chair under the doorknob then turned to give him a slight smile. “Besides, I owe you one. Right?”

John B managed a slight chuckle and nodded, the warmth of his gaze permeating your skin. “Hell of a thing to pay back.”

“Just focus on getting the fuck out of Kildare,” you said. “That’ll be your payment.”

He nodded again and started to move, but he paused this time. John B stared at you for a moment before something changed in his eyes. He crossed the distance in a few short steps and pulled you into a searing kiss, his calloused palms gripping your arms in an impossibly soft way.

Your body knew what to do before your mind did, an intense fervor coming out for a kiss you didn’t know you needed so badly. When John B pulled away your breathing was slightly labored, and even though he was in the middle of a fight for his life, his eyes were still gentle as ever.

He touched his forehead to yours, his voice coming out as nothing more than a whisper. “Thank you.”

You let out a shaky breath as you closed your eyes, focusing on the warmth of his body against yours before it was too late. “You better find a way out of this.”

“I’ll try my best.”

And when you opened your eyes, he was gone.

You wrapped your arms around yourself as you all but collapsed against the closed door in relief, thankful that he at least had a chance (and even more thankful for the kiss). You tried to clear the fog in your mind, and you seemed to perk up just in time as the front door burst open, Deputy Shoupe storming into your house with Topper on his heels.

“Where is he?” he demanded, already taking his gun out of his holster. Your entire body stiffened at the sight of the firearm, and you were even more thankful that you got John B out when you did.

“Right there, behind that door,” Topper said, pointing at you. You stepped away from the door and were met with a glare. “Is he still there? Did you stay here the whole time?”

You rolled your eyes with a nod. “I didn’t move. Unless he can suddenly teleport, he’s still in there.”

Shoupe looked back at Topper then gestured at you with his head. “Get her out of here.”

“No,” you admonished. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Ma’am—”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you repeated, and he just sighed.

“Mr. Thornton?”

Topper grabbed your arm and pulled you a couple feet back, and though you slapped his hand away he didn’t budge. “Can you just stop being difficult for once?” he fumed.

You opened your mouth to retort but the words stuck in your throat as Shoupe started talking.

“Alright John B, this is the end of the road!” He took the chair out from under the doorknob and took the safety off his gun. “Put your hands on your head. I’m comin’ in there.”

You didn’t even feel the pain of Topper’s grip on your arm as you held your breath. You knew he was gone with a solid lead on the police, but you hadn’t really thought about what you were going to do when they found the empty room.

And find an empty room he did. After Shoupe pushed the door open, you heard him curse very loudly.

“Did you find him?” one of the officers asked, and after an agonizing fifteen seconds of what you assumed was searching, Shoupe walked out with a stone-faced glare aimed at you. “Room’s empty.”

Topper’s grip tightened on your arm as he pulled you to face him, that same wild look in his eyes as before. “Did you fucking let him out?” he glowered.

“No!” you scoffed, trying your best not to let anything slip as you finally managed to pull your arm away from him. “What, you think I would help the guy who murdered the sheriff get away?”

“Yeah,” Topper said, “I do. You’ve always had a soft spot for pogues, especially him. You don’t even think he did it.”

Deputy Shoupe turned to you, and you bit down on your tongue to keep your mask up. “Miss Thornton, assisting a criminal escape is a serious offense that could warrant jail time. Did you help John Routledge escape this room?”

“Are you kidding me?” you asked incredulously. “There— there’s a window in there, and there’s a vent, both places he could’ve gotten out of. He’s already gotten across the entire island without anyone finding him, what makes you think he wouldn’t be able to get out of here too?”

“There’s no sign of forced exit,” Shoupe said. “The window’s closed, the vent hasn’t been touched; even the door’s in perfect condition. The kid didn’t do this alone.”

You glanced at Topper, his blue eyes drilling into you with a steely glint, then you looked back to the deputy. You were in over your head, but your only choice was to go even further. So you raised your chin and mustered as even a voice as you could. “I’m not giving you anymore shit without a lawyer.”

You started walking off when Topper grabbed your arm once more, his fingers a vice around your bicep. You scowled and tried to pull away, but he just glared at you. “What the fuck did you do?” he hissed, voice dangerously low.

“I didn’t do anything,” you said through gritted teeth. “Now get the hell off of me.”

You tugged your arm away and stormed off, only pausing at the foot of the steps as Deputy Shoupe said your name again.

“Miss Thornton, I’m afraid we have to bring you in—”

You whirled around, summoning your best ‘rich, spoiled brat’ impression in a Hail Mary attempt to buy yourself time. “If you lay a finger on me without actual proof, my father will sue you so hard that your life will be ruined and you will never get a job again. Understand?”

You took an obscene amount of pride in the step he took back and the silent nod he gave you, and you tried to hold back your satisfaction as you took the steps two at a time up to your room. If the police were going to be corrupt, you might as well use it to your advantage.

You slammed your door shut and locked it behind you, collapsing into your desk chair with an exhausted sigh. You didn’t anticipate getting caught up in something like this when your mom proposed this summer trip.

Your eyes drifted up to the wall and you pulled down a polaroid you had hanging up, a candid that Kie had taken of you and John B the first night you hung with all of the pogues. It used to make you flush every time you saw it, the way John B was looking at you when you weren’t paying attention. All you could think of now was that he’d better find a way to get out of this.

He couldn’t just kiss you like that and then die on you.

.

(Two days later, after John B and Sarah Cameron had been ruled dead by the authorities, you got a text from an unknown number:

I think I seriously owe you one.)

-

perm tags: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77 @simonsbluee @kwyloz

obx tags: @milkiane @lilgoddesshines

[tawaifeddiediaz]

I am an actual idiot, and I thought this was a prompt for an ask game that I reblogged ajdksdjada i'm so sorry. I love you most <3

anyway I wrote this for you by accident, so have a free fic <3

[the lovers, the dreamers (and me) — AO3 Link]

Word Count: 1514 words

There’s a frog staring at him.

Eddie blinks twice, thrice, four times — nope, it’s still sitting there.

(It’s not a real frog, which is good, because last time Buck and Chris brought a real frog into the house, Eddie unequivocally banned all wild creatures from the house.

He doesn’t need another afternoon of running after a frog bounding through the halls, only to find it smack in the middle of his kitchen, staring at its ceramic counterpart on the sink.

And he definitely doesn't need another afternoon of scrubbing and disinfecting the entire house from top to bottom because Buck and Christopher felt bad for the small reptile — apparently enough to take it out of its own home into their own.)

It’s a thick plush animal, about ten inches tall, the fabric soft and bright green against the dark brown wood of the dresser. The arms look vaguely flat where they’re crossed across its chest and there’s a white banner balanced on top of them that reads, “I <3 you.”

Those ping-pong ball eyes and the triangular-shaped collar are familiar, though, and Eddie can’t stop the laughter from slipping from his lips as he recognizes it.

“It’s Kermit the Frog,” Eddie tells his boyfriend, sparing a glance over his shoulder to where Buck’s leaning against the door frame, grinning widely.

“Sophia told me he was your favorite Muppet.” Buck thinks for a second, then tacks on, “and Winnie the Pooh but they were sold out of that one. Not in stock for another six months, because I guess you're not the only fan of the Hundred Acre Woods.”

“And I’m the only fan of the Muppets?” Eddie laughs, tilting his head back into his boyfriend as Buck’s arms come to wrap around his waist, his hands resting flat against Eddie’s stomach, fingers sweeping patterns across his skin. He can feel the pads of Buck's fingers even through his shirt, and it sends warm sparks down his spine. “What made you buy it in the first place?”

Eddie can’t remember the last time he saw a stuffed animal in his room that wasn’t Christopher’s, but he can feel Buck’s smile against his skin where they sway lightly, wrapped up together, and figures he doesn’t really care why as long as Buck’s still holding him like that. He’s comfortable here, leaning back into the broadness of Buck’s chest despite the minimal height difference between them 

(He’s not even sure Buck’s conscious that he does it every time he wraps his arms around Eddie, moving them lightly to some invisible beat only he can hear and Eddie can feel, but he never wants him to stop — ever.)

“It’s microwaveable!” Buck exclaims, forgetting that his mouth is right against Eddie’s ear. 

And…that doesn’t track, and leaves him more confused than before. Eddie’s pretty sure if he tried to microwave that, he’d set the whole house on fire.

“What?”

Buck, regrettably, lets go of him to cross over to the dresser, picking up the plushie to show Eddie the zipper on the back. He pulls out a pouch of something from inside instead of traditional cotton stuffing, leaving the stuffed animal little more than an empty bag. He holds the pouch up to Eddie, tossing it up in his hands. “This. You microwave this, and put it back into the stuffed animal.”

“A heating pad,” Eddie guesses, taking Kermit’s fleece covering from him. With a thumb, he traces the stitched letters on the sign, embroidered with black thread. It reminds him of one of those memes he learned about during his stint on Twitter, and Eddie can’t help but smile. “You remembered.”

“The Kermit memes? Yeah, they make you laugh every time, why wouldn’t I? But this one should help your shoulder, too, since it’s a heating pad. It’s also pretty heavy so you can use it on the nights I’m not here to lay on top of you.”

Eddie looks up, to where Buck’s eyes are sparkling with mirth, but also something else. Something that’s taken Eddie a long time to accept is for him. Something that he’s tried so hard to accept that he deserves.

“Here, wait, let me go warm it up so you can see.” Buck takes the sleeve from Eddie’s loose fingers and darts out of the room, leaving him with thoughts that swell in his chest and curl into his throat.

Eddie watches his boyfriend go, hearing the familiar pitter-pattering of his feet on the wood, then on the kitchen tile. He can count the seconds it’ll take for Buck to use the microwave that he’d convinced Eddie to buy — another new gadget that sits on the counter, symbolic of the changes Buck’s brought into his life. He can count the number of seconds it’ll take for Buck to come back to him, too.

Of all the countless acts of service, as Buck would label them from his love languages book, that Eddie’s been a recipient of, something about this one hits him straight in the solar plexus, knocking the air out of his lungs in one swoop.

Buck had remembered Eddie’s griping about how empty the bed was on the rare nights Buck isn’t here, had remembered the pain that still shot through Eddie’s right shoulder at random, and had remembered something Eddie’s sister had said. Possibly, probably , he was the one who reached out to Sophia about it. And he even remembers which memes Eddie likes the most, which in this time and age, feels like the equivalent of being tossed an apple in Ancient Greece.

In the very back of his closet, hidden in a bunch of old sweaters, is a box that holds a ring that had sent Eddie rocking back on his heels when he’d first pictured it on Buck’s finger. It was like it was made for him, and after that, there were no other rings to look at. He’d bought it on the spot, even though he and Buck hadn't been dating for more than six weeks.

It took the three month mark for Eddie to approach Christopher about the possibility of proposing, but last minute, they’d talked about an intermediate step. Eddie had known that rushing this would do no good for any of them, and he’d wanted to give the stages of their relationship the respect each of them deserve.

But then, Buck does things like buy Eddie a plush toy to help with the pain, loneliness and nostalgia, while still making him laugh, and all Eddie wants to do is drag him straight to the courthouse, taking things slow be damned.

Suddenly, he really, really doesn’t want to wait.

“Move in with me,” he blurts out, as soon as his boyfriend crosses the threshold of the bedroom. 

And…that was not how he’d planned it, but for the wide-eyed look that passes over Buck’s startled face, he can’t bring himself to regret the hasty words.

“Move in with me,” he says more calmly, more sure of himself. It’s not a new decision by far, and Eddie needs to make sure that Buck knows that. “Christopher and I were supposed to ask you together, but…I couldn’t wait.”

“You want me to move in?” Buck whispers, his voice hushed as if Eddie’s going to take it back. His feet are frozen in the door, not daring to come any closer.

Which is unacceptable to Eddie, who isn’t the least bit ashamed of how much he likes when Buck’s pressed right into his space — something he can really only tolerate from two people in his life without feeling the need to pull away. 

He walks over to his boyfriend and pulls the now assembled and warm stuffed animal from his slack hands, reaching out to tangle their fingers together. His thumb finds the familiar grooves of Buck’s knuckles, stroking over them in a way that hopefully conveys what his words never could. “Yeah. I want you here with us, with me . Always, Buck.”

Buck’s eyes look suspiciously wet, his lips parted, and Eddie can’t resist pulling him into a kiss, holding him close, waiting him out. 

“Is it because of Kermit?”

“Is it because — what, Buck, no!” Eddie laughs, shaking his head at the wet amusement in Buck’s voice. “Chris and I talked about it way before you brought Kermit into our lives. You’re here so often anyway that sometimes I forget that you don’t officially live here — and it’s…honestly it’s one of the worst things to watch you walk out the door even though I never want you to leave. So…move in with us?”

Buck kisses him, tasting suspiciously of salt but always of love and Eddie smiles against his mouth, knowing the answer. His other thumb traces the black lettering on the stuffed animal still held tight in his hands, and when Buck pulls away, his eyes sparkling with more than playful mischief this time, Eddie knows what he’s going to say.

“Yes.”

(Two months later, Eddie will ask him another question.

Buck will smile again as he repeats, “Yes.”)

[kung-laos-hat]

Kiss Me

Kung Lao x Fem!Reader

AN: Kung Lao, my beloved. Wrote this while listening to Kiss Me More by Doja Cat ft. SZA, banger song. Not proof read yet‼️

Summary: Who doesn’t like when a little friendly rivalry turns into something more?

“You ready to meet your match this time?” Kung Lao chuckled, adjusting his footing and placing a hand on the tip of his hat.

“Course’ I am Lao,” (Y/n) huffed, getting into position, “When they get here make sure to let me know, yeah?”

This had become a daily occurrence. After dinner time, when lessons and training were done for the evening, the three of them would return to the court and cash in on a little sparring. It was their odd way of spending time together outside of missions, plus with the grand tournament coming up, they could use the extra practice.

Usually they had a rotation system that went Liu versus (Y/n), then (Y/n) versus Lao, then Liu versus Lao. They would rest a little after each match, then continue on per usual. However today’s session was going a little different.

Yesterday, (Y/n) had won against Lao and was so proud of her achievement she couldn’t help but rub it in, and Lao, being the prideful young man he was, demanded a rematch. He claimed the mission he’d gone on earlier that day had screwed him over physically. (Y/n) agreed to it, and now here they were.

“3...2...1... fight!” Liu Kang called out from the top on the stairs leading into the main hallway. As the pair lunged at each other, causing reddish brown puffs of dirt to fly off of the ground, he calmly sat and observed.

Minutes passed, and neither party seemed to have even made a scratch on the other. However, an impressive amount of blocking was being done by Kung Lao currently, so Liu assumed the victory would go to (Y/n). The girl had a giddy smile plastered across her face, and it seemed like she, too, expected the victory to be hers.

Liu turned to the side and reached for his water, but noticed he hadn’t brought any with him. He sighed and stood up.

“I’m going to fetch some water from the kitchen. Continue on, but please don’t wreck anything or kill each other. Master will have a fit and then I’ll receive part of the blame for not monitoring you two properly.” Liu said.

“Expect to come back to my—,” (Y/n) began before dodging a kick, “Another one of my victories!”

“Fat chance!”

Previous to all of this, the two friends already had some sort of tension between them. It started off as a friendly rivalry, competing for trifling things such as the last egg roll or using the bathroom first in the morning. But as the years passed, the competitons began to become more... personal. And so did the bickering. Somehow (Y/n) and Lao shifted from “if you don’t shut up I’m gonna kick your ass” to “if you don’t shut up, I’m gonna make you.”

Nevertheless, the three of them quite enjoyed their dynamic (despite Liu Kang shooting knowing looks at the two individually).

Now (Y/n) had Kung Lao backed into a corner with her (weapon/power) held against his neck. Lao strained his neck upwards, his left arm holding his hat behind his back.

“That was the saddest block I’ve seen all day, Lao. Do you yield yet?” (Y/n) smirked triumphantly.

He glanced down at her and huffed. “Watch your tongue, (Y/n).”

He swiftly slid his foot under her, knocking her off her feet, and brought his hat back up to his head before disappearing into the ground. He reappeared behind her and attempted to pin her to the ground, but she jumped up and tackled the boy, landing with her legs straddling Lao’s right one and her hand on his chest.

“You’re so predictable these days,” (Y/n) laughed.

Lao propped himself up on his elbows, “You’re only saying that because you’ve gotten used to my moves.”

“Maybe you should take some time away from me,” (Y/n) jeered, “Y’know, and learn some better ones.”

Lao furrowed his eyebrows, “God, if you don’t stop flapping your mouth—,”

“You’re trapped under me, what are you gonna do? Kiss me?” She laughed.

Lao brought his leg up and forcefully kicked her off, sending her tumbling across the court. (Y/n) jumped onto her feet, narrowly avoiding hitting the wall.

“If you keep that up I just might.” Lao teased.

“You wouldn’t have the nerve,” (Y/n) lunged at him again.

Lao used his hat to block her attack and landed a solid kick to her side. “Is that a challenge?”

God, every word that came out of the girl’s mouth was beginning to get him fired up. He could feel his chest begin to tingle with a mix of excitement and anxiety. What if (Y/n) genuinely wanted to kiss him? If he tried, would she pull away? Kung Lao had always been the bolder of the two, but still.

Kung Lao charged at her and grabbing her hands, holding them behind her back with one hand before she could fully regain her footing. With his other hand he grasped the collar of her top and pulling her closer to his body. (Y/n) was paralyzed by this sudden action and her breath hitched. She looked up at Lao with uncertainty, the color of her cheeks turning redder than the fabric Liu Kang tied around his head.

Lao’s hand trailed up to her face, holding the side of her jaw with his pointer and middle finger while his thumb traced circles over her lower lip. Lao was looking directly into her eyes now.

“Just say the word and I will, (Y/n).” His tone was quieter and more serious than ever before.

(Y/n)’s mouth quivered. It felt like her brain had entirely blanked and she couldn’t find anything clever to respond with.

“I— I... I yield!” She cried, quickly pulling away in embarrassment.

(Y/n) ran up the stairs just as Liu Kang returned. She nodded to him in acknowledgment, but continued to rush off to her room.

Liu stopped and glanced from her retreating figure to his cousin who stood along in the court.

“So... who won?” He cocked an eyebrow in confusion. Kung Lao buried his face in his hands.

———

The next couple of days seemed incredibly off to everyone. (Y/n) went out of her way to avoid interacting with Kung Lao, and vice versa. Lao’s thoughts were just too jumbled for him to approach her, no matter how much he wanted a confirmation on whether she felt the same or not, and (Y/n) was having a difficult time making sense of Lao’s actions.

What would happen if they did like each other? Although at this point, neither of them were sure if “like” was the correct term to use. (Y/n) was certain up until then that Kung Lao had meant everything was a joke and simply took this one a little too far. The insults, the flirting, all of it had been a joke, right? That was their silent agreement. Lao would never do anything with the intention of... well... getting to (Y/n), per say. Their intentions with eachother had always been purely platonic.

But was that really the truth in (Y/n)’s case? Or had she been ignorant to her own feelings towards the boy all along? Is that why she couldn’t stand to look him in the eye now? What if she really was in—

“(Y/n)! Master wants me to accompany him somewhere, so I can’t make it tonight.” Liu called out as he jogged to catch up with the girl.

She blinked, “Oh, it’s alright Liu, we can reschedule for another night then.”

He stretched his arms over his head. “Why don’t you use the time to catch up with Kung Lao? It seems like you two hardly got to spend time together this week.”

(Y/n) blushed and began to shift her feet uncomformably, “Lao and I— we’re- I haven’t...” She sighed, “I’m not exactly in the mood to talk to him any time soon.”

Liu frowned, “It isn’t my place to speak in the matter, and I’m not sure what went down between you two, but If Lao said something I’m sure he didn’t mean it.”

The girl groaned and leaned her head back. “That’s what I’m afraid of...” She mumbled.

Liu placed a hand on her head and ruffled her hair, then placed both of his hands on her shoulders.

“You’re a smart girl, I’m sure you two will be back on track eventually. Remember: a little communication goes a long way.”

She nodded, “You’re right, I know. I’ll try to sort it out.”

___

Now, Kung Lao was completely crumbling over why (Y/n) had pushed him away. He believed that (Y/n) felt something for him, he was sure of it, and he’d been searching for an opportunity to pursue her for months. So when she jokingly asked if he would kiss her, how could he have resisted?

It was an impulsive decision, he admitted, but he was so sure she felt the same that he thought it didn’t matter. Maybe he should have been more forward and confessed his feelings for her in a different setting.

Buuuuut it was too late now. He blew it. And now she was avoiding him. He was a fool to assume such things about her.

Lao signed and threw himself done on his bed, sprawling his arms and legs out dramatically.

“Cousin? I’m heading out soon, I came to say goodbye—,” Liu’s voice faltered when he saw the state of his friend. He stifled a laugh. “Y’know, if you if this is effecting you so badly, why not just apologize and talk to her?”

Lao’s head shot up in alarm. “Oh no, how much did she tell you!?”

Liu laughed, “Little to nothing, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t noticed the strange energy between you two lately.”

Lao groaned and sat up.

“Heed my advice, and stop moping around, Lao.” Liu patted the other young man’s shoulder before setting off to find their master.

___

A few hours passed and Kung Lao finally felt like he had the right words to explain how he felt to (Y/n). Yes, he’d spent hours cooped up in his room, scribbling his thoughts down on paper until he ultimately decided it was best to be direct. The poor girl was probably confused enough as it was.

It was settled then. He’d talk to her tomorrow after training and lessons, but right now it was probably best to focus on dinner.

He silently walked down the main hall and towards the kitchen. He was sheet he staff had already cleaned up dinner, and seeing as he wasn’t present to eat with the others, it was likely they didn’t bother to prepare him a plate.

Lao opened the door but froze in his tracks at the sight of (Y/n) standing in front of the counter, her shirt stained with the remnants of assorted ingredients. She staggered back at the sight of him in the door way. Lao’s eyes strayed to a small tray of egg rolls and a few other dishes.

“Kung Lao,” She breathed out.

He cleared his throat. “That seems a little excessive for a late night snack.”

“Oh this—,” (Y/n) glanced to the tray and back at him, “You weren’t at dinner, and I didn’t expect you to come to the kitchen... it was supposed to be a secret.”

“I see.” Kung Lao was silent for a moment. “Oh. OH— this is,” He gestured to the tray awkwardly, “for me...”

(Y/n) pursed her lips and nodded, glancing down at the floor. The two of them stood without a word for a moment, anxiety building up in their stomachs. Neither of them wanted to be the first to break the silence, and yet both of them had so much to say.

“I’m sorry.” (Y/n) mumbled at last. “I took our usual teasing too far last time, and I shouldn’t have avoided you—,”

“I wanted to kiss you.” Kung Lao blurted out. “I still do. And wanted you to want me to kiss you.”

“Kung Lao, the jokes we made were fun and all—,”

“Well, I’m not playing around anymore, (Y/n). This time it isn’t a joke.” The serious look he had on the other day had returned.

“So...,” (Y/n) began, barely a whisper, “what are you saying?”

Kung Lao exhaled heavily and furrowed his brows. “How can I be any more transparent right now!?” He growled, “I’m in love with you, (Y/n).”

It was as if a heavy weight had been lifted off of both of their chests in that moment.

(Y/n) smiled and wasted no time to wrap her arms around Kung Lao’s neck and press her lips against his. He kissed back without hesitation and wrapped his arms around her body shamelessly. Kung Lao deepened the kiss, and their lips moved together feverently, as if this was something they’d both been yearing for for a while.

When they finally separated, (Y/n) rested her head in the crook of Lao’s neck, sighing happily.

“You know what? I think I just might be in love with you too, Lao.”

[hockeyshitandstuff]

Are you in town? - Matthew Tkachuk (part 3)

part one here

part two here

This is the last part of this mini-series and I hope you enjoyed it! Requests are open btw, so don’t be afraid to ask for an imagine with any NHL player :))

Word count: 1464 words

TW: mentions of sex, language

...

The thing that woke you up was the bright light shining through the windows.

Shit. What time was it? You probably should have been already working - for hours.

As you looked around yourself, you started realizing this wasn’t your apartment. Everything here looked so blank and expensive and then you remembered that-

That you kisssed Matthew while he was drunk. That you fucked Matthew while he was drunk.

You groaned silently, still too sleepy to actually cry. What had you done?

You thought you were okay with staying just friends. But here I am, you thought to yourself as you climbed out of the bed.

Your body felt sore and relaxed at the same time. It was a long time since you slept with someone and actually enjoyed it like this. And even though you should be ashamed of yourself, you let yourself enjoy that feeling.

Just then you realized that the other side of Matt’s huge bed was already empty and cold. There was no sign of him in the living room or in the kitchen - he probably left a long time ago, maybe already preparing for his upcoming game.

But the smell of him lingered on the sheets like a distant memory, bringing back the thoughts of yesterday's events. His hot skin touching yours, his warm breath caressing your breasts...

Shit.

Just... shit.

And so you put on your yesterday’s clothes, write a quick note for Matt and leave his apartment without looking back.

...

It’s been two weeks since you woke up at Matthew’s apartment. Since then, you ignored his calls and texts, pretended you weren’t home when he knocked on your door and worked overtime when he waited for you at the reception.

Yes - it’s not ideal but it worked for 14 whole days. And it gave you some time to think.

As you were leaving your office, thinking only about going to bed, you realized you didn’t check if Matt was waiting for you - but too late. A hand gripped lightly your elbow, making you halt in your tracks.

“Y/N, why the fuck are you avoiding me?”

He sounded a bit angry but mostly tired and hurt. He looked tired, too - those were dark circles under his beautiful eyes.

And you just stood there, trying to come up with a good enough excuse.

Because we fucked, Matthew, you wanted to say. Because I love you and I’m afraid you’re gonna break my heart. Because I don’t want to lose you or our friendship. But wouldn’t avoiding him for a few more weeks destroy your friendship as well?

“You can’t- you can’t just leave, Y/N. What happened happened and if you want to, we can ignore it but you can’t just keep walking around it. You can’t just leave like I did all those years ago. And I’m so so sorry I did so and it’s totally my fault if you feel like I might do that again but you have to trust me that I have no reason to do so.”

Matthew looked... scared. Was it because he was afraid you’d leave him behind? Afraid of tasting his own medicine?

You still didn’t know what to say. You wanted to believe all he was saying but the memory of you crying when he abandoned you was still playing in your head. He did so just because of some stupid promise he told nobody about. What’s stopping him from doing so again?

“I panicked when I came back home that morning - I went shopping because I had no food at the apartment and I wanted to make you a perfect breakfast. And when I came back, you were gone and all you left behind was a note with only one word on it - goodbye. So yeah, I panicked. Of course I panicked. And I know I’m the reason you did it but I have no idea how to make things right. I don’t know how to make you trust me like you once did...” Matthew tugged at his curls, his hair all messy. He let out a sigh, trying to avoid your searching gaze.

"Matt-" you stopped your arm from touching his hair even though you wanted to comfort him so badly. It'd be so easy to let yourself trust him. Too easy; and that scared you more than anything. "I need time. Just- just take me out for dinner or something. We'll take things slowly and then we'll see how that turns out."

He looked at you as you spoke, watching the shape of your lips while nodding slowly. A small smile formed on Matt's lips and he tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. Your cheeks went red a bit as you realized he'd do whatever you needed and won't ever ask for more than you're prepared to give him. The night two weeks ago wasn't your fault; it was yours. Matthew was drunk and never forced you to do what you did. It was you who ruined things.

"Do you have time right now?"

"Yeah, I guess." you answered, smiling up at him.

"Then I'll take you out for dinner."

Hand in hand, you realized it'd be so easy to get used to the feeling of butterflies in your stomach.

...

A month later, Matt took you to a lunch with his family. It was a long time since you've seen any of his siblings so you were super excited - but also super nervous.

You two took things really slow. Matt took you out every day if he had the time and hasn't even kissed you once. Sometimes, you wanted him to do so. Sometimes, it was the only thing you could think of.

The nostalgia hit you as soon as you saw Chesterfield again. You closed your eyes, already knowing where would the car turn on the road. You kind of missed this city - it reminded you of your childhood and of Matthew.

He was sitting next to you, driving the car, one hand on the steering wheel and the second on your thigh, drawing cirles on your jeans.

"Do they remember me?" you asked, your eyes still closed.

"Of course they remember you," Matt murmured and sang a few lines of the song playing on the radio - your song, one from the playlist on the USB that was hidden for years in the time capsule.

After Matt got drafted, you stopped talking to his family. You were mad at all of them even though it was a stupid thing to do. But now as an adult, things would be different. Yeah, you probably could be mad at Matt's dad for all the things Matt wrote you in that letter but... He only wanted his son to be happy - you'd probably do the same.

So, when the car stopped, you got out and greeted his family as nicely as you could. It took you some time to recognise Taryn as she hugged you, because last time you saw her, she was just a kid. And now... She and Brady were both adults.

"Nice to meet you again, Y/N," said their mom, Chantal as you shoot hands. Her husband smiled at you from the table where all of them were already seated and Matthew wrapped one arm around your waist as he pushed back the chair for you.

Everyone talked, laughed and enjoyed the autumn day with bright smiles on their faces. None of them seemed to mind your presence and you felt like a part of this happy family.

Halfway through the lunch, Matt pushed his chair closer to you as he whispered into your ear:

"What are you thinking about?"

You looked at him, at his bright eyes and eased smile. At the way he touched your hand and tucked your hair behind your ear. And you realized how much he cared for you and that there was nothing that could keep you two apart this time.

No more tiptoeing. No more 'taking things slow'.

"I'm thinking about how I trust you more than I trusted anyone in my life. I'm thinking about how I love you more than I loved anyone in my life."

His smile was the most beautiful thing you have ever seen. It was full of love and care and you didn't realized you were crying until Matt wiped the tears off your cheeks.

"You want to know what I'm thinking about?"

You simply nodded.

"I'm thinking about our future and about how happy you make me, Y/N. I'm thinking about how lucky I am that I can call you mine. I love you so much, Y/N." he whispered, taking one of your hand in his and intertwining your fingers.

"I love you too, Matt. And I promise I will never say goodbye to you."

[kumzume]

desperate ft. kozume kenma

warnings. SMUT, exhibitionsm, voyuerism, handjob, slight slight slight humiliation if you squint really hard, also kuroo x kenma if you squint + kuroo x you too ;)

an. wrote this in 3 hours and have no idea how long it is LMAO, not proofread, fueled solely by my whorekneeness :D

♡´･ᴗ･`♡

kenma would rather be anywhere but here.

the loud noise of the bass gave him a headache and the numerous people filling the small living room made his skin crawl. the warm beer he’d been steadily nursing didn’t even help distract him from the spring poking through the shitty couch cushion, leaving a small ache in his butt.

as he glanced around the room searching for something to take his mind off of the hell that was this college house party, his mind wandered back to the question that had been in plaguing his mind the entire night: why the hell am i here?

just then, his eye caught on something—rather someone—and he couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face.

oh yeah. it was you.

you were standing in the kitchen speaking to kuroo while grabbing a drink of your own, your short skirt riding up as you laughed at something stupid kuroo said. kenma felt his cheeks heat up, his eyes darting down to his lap as if he wasn’t allowed to stare at his (Gorgeous™) girlfriend.

his cock was already growing in his sweats, one of his hands going to cover it. he wanted to whine for you to come over and take him home so you could fuck him senseless but he knew you were having fun. you’d leave the party with him in a heartbeat but you’d been looking forward to this party for weeks and he didn’t want to ruin it for you.

so, kenma grabbed a musty couch pillow that was stained with something mysterious (was it cum? or blood? he really didn’t want to find out) to cover up his little...problem.

it wasn’t long before you made your way back over to your boyfriend, feeling a little guilty for leaving him alone for too long in an uncomfortable environment. you realized he had problems with big crowds so you were willing to say goodbye to the last of your friends and then leave to cuddle with kenma at home.

as you approached the couch where he sat, you couldn’t help but notice the strategically placed pillow on his lap, his pink cheeks, and teeth digging into his plush bottom lip. a smirk appeared on your face, your years of dating him preparing you to notice that that wasn’t an uncomfortable kenma face—it was a horny kenma face.

“hey baby, are you alright?” you asked, sliding into the empty space next to him on the couch. kenma felt his body immediately seek yours, one of his legs spreading to get in contact with your thigh. of course you noticed this and swiftly decided to do something about it.

you took one of your arms and wrapped it around kenma’s thin waist, pulling him nearly into your lap. a small gasp escaped his lips at the gesture, his head ducking to hide in your neck to cover his burning cheeks.

“baby, tell me what’s wrong, hm?” kenma shook his head at your question, his blond tipped strands ticking the side of your face. you sighed in disappointment while allowing one of your hands to trail down to his lap, gently caressing his thigh before pulling the pillow off of his crotch.

kenma moaned softly into his place in the crook of your neck as your hand palmed his rock hard length through the thin cotton fabric. “oh baby... is this the problem? are you horny, is that it?” your tone, while mocking, is sweet and kenma nodded his head quickly without thinking.

you lifted his face from against your skin to look at him and the sight that greeted you had a gentle sigh leaving your chest. kenma’s cheeks had become bright red from your ministrations and his bright golden eyes gazed on you with adoration and lust pooling in the centers. your smaller hand caressed his jaw before pulling him down for a passionate kiss.

the minute your lips met his, a sharp whine left his mouth, his hands coming up to the back of your head to press you both closer together. your own hand tangled itself in his long hair while your tongue forced its way past his lips.

“oh, are we getting a show?” kuroo exclaimed while coming to sit on the chair across from the couch where you were sat, causing you to hesitantly pull yourself from your boyfriend’s soft lips. you didn’t miss the way kenma followed you or the whimper that escaped him when he did and you doubt kuroo did either.

after sending a placating look kenma’s way, you turned towards kuroo with a roll of your eyes. “i’m sure you’d like that too, pervert. you wanna see me jerk kenma off in the middle of this party?” you replied, only half joking but the way kuroo’s eyes darkened at your statement and kenma’s hips rolled into yours told you something different.

“baby? can you look at me?” you lifted your sweet boyfriend’s face back up so that his eyes would meet yours and all you saw in them was want and desire. still, you believed consent was sexy and you needed his expressly for what you wanted to try out. “are you okay with that kenma? do you want your best friend to watch while i jerk you off in this room full of people?” he nodded heavily, his hips rolling into your hips with more ferocity while a moan of your name left his lips.

your pussy clenched under your skirt at the noise as a wave of slick stained your panties. you were really going to do this. holy shit, okay. after taking a deep breath, you readjusted kenma on your lap so that he was seated in between your legs with his back against your chest. your hand moved down to play with hem of his sweats, a wet stain starting to show where he soaked through his boxers. a glance across the room showed kuroo leaning back into his chair, a noticeable bulge showing through his jeans.

you brushed kenma’s hair over his shoulder before whispering once more in his ear. “are you sure you want to do this? you can say no and we can both go home right now, ok?” as a response, kenma grabbed the hand that was messing with his sweatpants and placed it right over his hardened cock, his hips bucking up into your touch.

“please,” his voice coming out so quiet, you could hardly hear him. “just touch me.” and who were you to deny a sweet request such as that?

kenma’s grip lessened on your wrist, allowing you to room to reach into his sweatpants and pull his dick out, it smacking against his stomach where you’d pulled up his hoodie slightly. his head automatically tilted back to rest on your shoulder but his eyes never left his best friend who had a hand resting on his crotch but left it unmoving.

a quick look around the room showed a couple of interested people, whispering at the sight of kenma writhing in your lap. largely though, the partygoers were unbothered or not paying the slightest attention at what was going on on the couch.

another whine of your name took you out of your thoughts and back to the present where your boyfriend’s cock stood bright red and leaking against his abdomen, waiting for your touch.

you wrapped your hand around the base of his member, earning you a hiss and sharp buck of his hips against you. you began stroking him up and down, careful to twist your wrist around his head in the way you knew he liked. he was heavily drooling precum now, making it easier to pick up speed.

it wasn’t long before he was a moaning, crying mess beneath you, his whimpers leaving him in a higher volume and frequency, attracting quite the crowd. kuroo had been steadily rubbing his cock through his jeans, still unwilling to remove it from its confines with the growing number of people surrounding the two of you.

“you like this hm? you like being put on display for everyone can see?” you murmured into his ear, the slick sound of your strokes nearly drowning you out. he could hardly answer, his eyes rolled back and a thin line of drool spilling from his mouth.

now, that wouldn’t do.

you gave him a sharp slap to his thigh, eliciting a jump and a moan from him and a gasp from your audience. “baby, answer me when i ask you a question.”

“yes, yes, i like w-when they watch me!” he moaned out, his breathing picking up speed as he chased his high. his hips bucked up into the tight circle your hand made, his thighs beginning to shake, signaling his nearing climax.

“c-can i cum, p-please let me cum,” kenma whimpered as his eyes locked on kuroo, his cock twitching in your hold. you followed your boyfriend’s gaze and smiled when you saw who they landed on.

“kuroo, do you want to tell kenma to cum? he’ll do it if you tell him to.” jealous whispers resounded around you but you ignored them in favor of watching kuroo’s eyes darken further and heat rushing to his cheeks. he nodded after a moment but you shake your head. “kuroo, tell him to cum.” you spoke with such finality that kuroo can’t help but do exactly what you say.

“kenma, cum.” it’s simple but it does the trick, kenma’s eyes rolling back, and his back arching as cum splatters all over his thighs, abdomen, and sweatpants. you continued to stroke him through his intense orgasm while he shook in your hold until he pushed your hand away from his softening cock with a whine of too much.

you removed your hand from him before pressing a kiss to his forehead and helping him pull his pants back up to cover him. you briefly took in the faces of the voyeurs standing around in the living room but kenma’s gentle hand on yours alerted you to his tired eyes, and fucked out smile. you smiled back and helped lift him up to his feet, his legs nearly buckling on him threatening to pull you both down to the floor but thankfully, a strong arm appeared, lifting kenma back to his feet.

you looked up to see who the culprit was only to meet the gaze of kuroo who sent you a sheepish smile. your eyes tracked down his body and landed on his still hard cock, straining against his zipper.

you grinned while the pair of you walked kenma to your car, not batting an eye when kuroo suggested coming home with you, to take care of kenma of course.

you knew and he knew what he really wanted and you were more than willing to give it to him.

after all, who were you to deny your boys what they needed?

[hermannsthumb]

possible prompt for a university au: newt is the biology major who maintains all the fish tanks in the physics building at 11pm and hermann is the physics student who likes to wander the halls to think. newt accidentally flings water all over the ground and hermann trips, hijinks ensue.

earlier today I was thinking about how I wrote a college AU fic almost 3 years ago to the date, and how I wanted to do more bc its fun thinking about newt and hermann as dumb college students

----

Newt's not really sure how he ended up with the weirdest work-study job on the planet, but honestly, things could be much, much worse (he could be stuck down in the dining hall, or dealing with confused freshmen in the school bookstore) so he keeps his thoughts on the whole thing to himself. Every Friday at eleven sharp, Newt pulls on his grodiest t-shirt and a pair of long rubber gloves and treks all the way over to the physics department to set to work scrubbing down the fish tanks that line the classroom walls. Why does the physics department have fish tanks? Newt's not really sure about that, either. It's kind of an insane amount of them, too, more than even the marine bio department has. Maybe it's supposed to boost morale or something. Hey, look at these crazy cool tropical fish who get to do nothing but eat and swim in circles, sorry you're stuck inside calculating velocity and shit.

Whatever, Newt's not complaining about that either. Let the physics nerds have their fun. It'll be good for them to branch out a little, realize there's life beyond robotics club meetings.

Also, Newt likes the fish. They're cute. He likes to think they like him, too, because they're very well behaved when he has to scoop them out of their tanks and plop them into smaller fish bowls (the kind goldfish in movies always use). He's going to teach them tricks eventually—he had a beta fish once who would do a little flip when Newt tapped the glass a certain way because he knew he'd get rewarded with dried worms, so Newt knows it's possible. Just imagine, a hundred fish doing flips on command. Newt Geiszler, fish whisperer.

Yeah, maybe the job could be more glamorous. It's really hard to get algae out of the gloves, and he hasn't been allotted the budget for a new pair yet.

"Hey, guys!" he shouts as he pushes in the door to room 214. The fish don't acknowledge him: they just continue swimming in their giant tank. In and out of plastic plants and rock caves. The rock caves were a gift from Newt three months into the job, and so were some of the moss balls—stimulation is important for fish! He wouldn't want to be trapped in a glass box with nothing to do, either. "I bet you missed me. Ready for a clean tank?"

Newt always talks to the fish, even if they don't talk back, because he thinks it's important to build their trust. He'll usually keep a running commentary of his week as he scrubs the tanks, just get everything off his chest that he needs to get off. Stuff he's worried about. Stuff that went well. Stuff that went badly. Therapy's expensive, and Newt's student health insurance can only cover so much, but talking to fish? That's free.

That's also kinda why he does it so late at night and over the weekend. The last thing he wants is an audience. Because, one, talking to fish is admittedly weird, and two, no one wants a glimpse at Newt's psyche like that, probably not even the fish.

The first step in cleaning the tanks is relocation. Newt digs his stereotypical goldfish bowls and an industrial-size mesh wand out of the supply closet, fills the former with some of the special tank salt water, and begins the slow and arduous task of scooping out the fish and depositing them into the bowls. "I had the lamest week," he announces once he's about three clownfish in. "I was working on a group project Saturday—"

Then Newt stops, because he hears footsteps in the hallway just outside the classroom.

Serial killer, Newt's instincts supply helpfully.

No, Newt corrects himself, that's dumb. Why would a serial killer wander into the physics building at eleven o'clock at night? Why would anyone, period? He's probably imagining stuff. Lack of sleep, stress over his upcoming projects, residual embarrassment from his disaster study session Saturday, all of it culminating in Newt thinking there's someone there. No, definitely imagining it. Newt can only even get in this late to the department because his ID swipe card is set up with the right permissions—not even the physics students have the permissions he does to be in this late at night. Well, not unless they clean the kitchenette in the student lounge or something.

Or if Newt left the door unlocked.

More footsteps. Closer now.

Newt's pretty sure he didn't leave the door unlocked, because he thinks it locks automatically behind him, and he would have to literally prop it open for anyone to get in after him. But anything's possible. The door could've caught on a dropped pencil or a paper scrap or other weird shit that physics students leave around, and a serial killer could've noticed and taken the opportunity to sneak inside on the off chance a hapless young biology major was scrubbing slime off fish tanks in the middle of the night. Any minute now, Newt's about to end up on an episode of Unsolved Mysteries. The Physics Department Murder. The Disappearing Biologist. (Nah, neither of those are very good titles, but that's why Newt isn't on the creative writing track.)

Step-tap-step. Closer now; Newt's heart leaps to his throat. Step-tap-step. Step-tap-step. Pausing just outside the door of room 214. God, why didn't Newt turn the lights off? Why didn't he shut the door?

Newt reaches for the first vaguely weapon-shaped thing he can find—an empty fishbowl, because Newt's not going to sacrifice any of the fish for this—and, as the door swings open, hurls it with a cry.

The bowl clunks on the ground. Except it turns out Newt grabbed the wrong fish bowl, because (even though it doesn't shatter, thank God) water quickly begins to seep across the slate floor tiles towards Newt's serial killer, a pathetic little clownfish (Newt thinks this one is named Albert, because the physics department is made up of nerds who do shit like name their random pet fish after their kind) flopping around in the puddle. Newt's serial killer, meanwhile, cries out similarly, his arms windmilling as he loses his footing and slips backwards, his cane—

Oh, fuck.

The intruder is not a serial killer. It's someone possibly worse, actually: Newt's mortal enemy, Hermann Gottlieb.

Newt's not really sure at what point Hermann became his mortal enemy and not just some guy I have class with that I hate, but he can pretty easily say that they've hated each other since the moment Hermann walked through the doors of Engineering 101 and was deigned Newt's lab partner by the Alphabetized By Last Name Seating Chart god. Something about Hermann just gets under Newt's skin. It's not his prissy English accent, or his oversized sweaters, or his absolutely horrendous haircut, and it's not even that he takes every opportunity to savagely rip apart every single thing Newt says in class. Don't get Newt wrong, that's all super fucking annoying, but it's annoying levels he can deal with.

It's the stuff they have in common that makes Newt hate him. It's like Hermann's a slightly broodier and more angular mirror that reflects all of Newt's most egregious faults—his arrogance, his stubbornness, his social awkwardness, his desperation to be taken seriously—right back at him. It sucks.

Plus, one time Newt caught Hermann ripping down the flyer he put up on the quad for Anime Club to advertise his stupid chess club instead, and he's never managed to forgive him for that.

Newt may hate Hermann, but he's not about to let him land on his ass in a puddle of fishy water (especially not on a freezing November night) just because the subsequent bitching would be unbearable, and, yeah, it would be supremely shitty of Newt, so he leaps forward just in time to catch Hermann and his cane before he hits the ground. He's so impressed with himself with his amazing catch that it takes him a few seconds to realize that Hermann is shouting and probably has been shouting since he slipped.

"—bloody maniac! What on earth are you doing in here? How are you in here? Did you just assault me? I'm going to phone campus police, you wretched—"

"Hold that thought," Newt says.

He rights Hermann and snags the mesh net and rescues poor Al before it's too late, dropping him back into the big tank with the rest of his friends. Newt can't be sure, but he thinks Al blows a bubble in thanks at him. Maybe he needs to make friends outside fish.

Hermann is still yelling at him.

"I am going to tell the head of the department you're—you're skulking about in here after hours!" he declares. "You're a menace. Pay attention to what I'm saying to you, Newton!"

Newt sighs and turns around. Hermann's turned an interesting shade of red—sort of like an over-boiled lobster, or if he fell asleep in the sun for too long. Newt wonders if it's from embarrassment (almost falling on his ass) or anger (almost being knocked on his ass). Probably anger. "Look, dude, I'm sorry," Newt says. His face twists like he ate a lemon, and he hopes Hermann doesn't notice. Newt hates apologizing to Hermann. "It's my job to clean the tanks every weekend. You scared the shit out of me and I freaked out—it's just that, like, no one ever comes by this late. Ever." He decides not to mention the serial killer thing. Hermann might make fun of him for being jumpy or paranoid or something.

Hermann's scowl doesn't lessen, but he does nod. Plus, he stops shouting. That's as much as Newt's gonna get of forgiveness. "Hmph," Hermann says. "You clean the tanks?"

"Every weekend," Newt repeats. He realizes he got some fish tank slime on Hermann's button-up when he caught him. Oops. Hopefully Hermann won't notice until Newt's in the safety of his dorm. "Gotta pay for my textbooks somehow." Then he frowns. "Wait, so what are you doing here? I didn't know you had access to the building this late."

Maybe Hermann is the kitchenette-cleaning guy after all. But, to his surprise, Hermann sniffs and casts his eyes to his dorky Oxford shoes. "Er," he says. "It's just—I was having trouble working out a solution to a problem, and thought a walk might do me good. Chilly nights like this one always do. And I quite like this building at night—it's calm, and much quieter than my dormitory." He fidgets. "And—well—only don't say anything to anyone, but I rewrote the permissions of my ID card so I could come and go wherever I please ages ago."

"You rewrote the permissions?" Newt says. "What the hell, wouldn't you have to hack into the security system or something to do that?"

"Well, obviously," Hermann says.

Despite himself, and despite Hermann being his Mortal Enemy, Newt is genuinely impressed. "Dude," he says. "That is so badass." Since when has Hermann been a badass?

Hermann's eyebrows jump, and he blinks at Newt behind his dorky librarian glasses. What twenty-one-year-old wears librarian glasses? With a chain? "You think so?" he says.

"Uh, totally," Newt says. "What problem were you stuck on? The one from Saturday?"

Being lab partners for engineering means Newt and Hermann have to collaborate on pretty much everything, including their midterms. Their midterm is what they've been working on for the past two weeks. On Saturday, though, they met in neutral ground to work on it (a reserved study room in the library), and, after a stupid and massive argument that had the librarians hoisting them out by their shirt collars and threatening to ban them for life, Hermann called Newt an idiot and stomped off into the night. Newt still hasn't gotten around to giving the problem another shot. Whatever, they have another week before the dumb thing is due. Plenty of time. Hermann nods. "Yes," he says. "Er—that one."

Newt glances at the clock ticking away on the wall. Quarter after eleven. Hermann's delayed him a whole fifteen minutes. Technically, he reminds himself, he doesn't actually have to have the tanks scrubbed by Friday night—he has the whole weekend to get it done. Also, he kind of feels like he owes Hermann for attacking him the way he did. Accidentally attacking. "Listen, Hermann," he says, feeling totally insane for what he's about to suggest. But he kind of wants to know more about Hermann The Badass. "What if we went back to my place and worked on it together? I'll buy us pizza, and I have, like, a bunch of energy drinks." The pizza place nearest campus is open until three in the morning, almost definitely because they get all of their business from sleep-deprived undergrads. Plus, they have midnight specials where you get free breadsticks with every pizza. Newt could go for some breadsticks. "It might be...fun," he adds.

Fun? With Hermann? Hermann will think he hit his head or something.

But to his surprise, Hermann doesn't hesitate even a second before saying "Alright, then."

"Oh," Newt says. He honestly thought Hermann would put up more of a struggle. "Cool!"

"But I might need to borrow a jumper," Hermann says. "If you'd be so...courteous, that is. I'm a bit chilly."

For some reason, the thought of Hermann (Newt's mortal enemy, but also a secret badass) curled up in one of Newt's baggy sweatshirts makes Newt feel all weird and warm all over. He swallows a few times, because his throat feels a little weird, too. Too tight. Like he just ate something he's allergic to. "No sweat," Newt says. "Let me just get these fish back in the, um, the tank. And—" He waves his slimy, gloved hands. "Take these off. And clean up that puddle. Gimme—um, gimme like, ten minutes?"

"Of course," Hermann says, and gives Newt a small, terse nod.

From Hermann, it's a smile. Newt almost slips on the puddle he's so blindsided by it. Stupid Hermann, making him feel all weird and clumsy.

[jamesrodayrodriguezpresents]

undefined

Shawn and Gus tackle their 'most personal case yet' in Psych 3: This Is Gus trailer

Order up some quatro queso dos fritos, because Shawn (James Roday Rodriguez) and Gus (Dulé Hill) are back on the case.

Peacock unveiled the first trailer for Psych 3: This Is Gus during the movie's New York Comic-Con panel Saturday — and you can watch it exclusively above. The hilarious spot promises new twists on classic bits ("Flame suck it!"), silly disguises, and a surprise cameo from Tears for Fears singer Curt Smith, who previously guest-starred in three episodes during Psych's initial eight-season run on USA Network.

Picking up where Psych 2: Lassie Come Home left off, the threequel follows our favorite fake psychic detectives on "their most personal case yet," according to the trailer, as they investigate Gus' pregnant fiancée Selene (Jazmyn Simon), who may not be who she says she is. And is anyone surprised given Gus' track record in the romance department? Not only is she still married to a mysterious man they need to find before the wedding, but Selene isn't even her real name. (Fingers crossed it actually is Prince!) Hopefully, they get this sorted out before Gus and Selene walk down the aisle!

During Saturday's panel, which was moderated by EW's Chancellor Agard, Roday Rodriguez, Hill, and Simon joined Psych creator and Psych 3 director Steve Franks, executive producer Chris Henze, and stars Maggie Lawson (Juliet O'Hara), Kirsten Nelson (Chief Vick), Corbin Bernsen (Henry Spencer), and Timothy Omundson (Carlton Lassiter) to preview the tomfoolery coming this November.

"I shook my head, I laughed till I cried, and I'm sure I texted James and was like, 'You guys are crazy,'" said Simon, explaining her initial reaction after reading the Psych 3 script and learning about Selene's wild backstory. "I loved it. It felt very on-brand for her. I thought they were so creative because she's such an oddball and she's such a fun character to play, so I feel like everybody would be like, 'Yeah, that seems about right.'"

"I think Henry Spencer said it right that there may be something wrong with my picker," said Hill, reflecting on the fact that Gus has found himself in yet another twisty romantic relationship. "I thought this time he was really going to do it right, but of course, something has to come up along the way...Hopefully with this go around, it'll all work out in the end for Gus — at least for right now."

With a wedding and baby on the way, Gus is moving past Shawn into a new stage of adulthood; however, Roday Rodriguez does believe Shawn will eventually come around. "I think it's sobering because the plan was always to live next door to each other and have adjoining waterslides," said the star, who co-wrote the movie with Franks. "I think the overriding emotional spine for Shawn is always that he wants his best friend to be happy."

As Shawn and Gus chase this case, Selene turns to Juliet and Chief Vick for help, thus further developing the friendship that started to take shape in the last movie. In some ways, it seems as though Juliet has finally found her Gus. "It's the best, because Jazmyn and I, in real life, are very close," said Lawson. "We've never actually seen [Juliet] have a friend, and I love that we're kind of playing that like, 'Nothing is going to break my bond with Selene — like Shawn, nothing. I finally have this friend so I am protecting her at all costs.'"

Nelson fondly recalled a fun "ladies night" the three women had while shooting. "That's what we dubbed it when Maggie, Jazmyn, and I had a couple of scenes together," she said. "It was just so nice to have that kind of energy on the set because it was very different from the bromance that we know and love on our show. So, it was kind of a nice little time to have like a girlmance."

Elsewhere in the movie, Lassiter, who was last seen recovering in a facility after he was severely wounded in the field, is readjusting to life back on the force and trying to figure out what's next for him. "The great thing about this is that Lassiter's recovery really mirrors my actual recovery in complete reality," said Omundson, who suffered a stroke right before production began on the first Psych movie. "I'm shooting this today in the same room where Maggie and I shot our FaceTime call for Psych the original movie, and I could barely speak at the time. So, it's kind of nice to be back here in this room now thinking [about] how far I've come and how far Lassiter has come."

Overall, the cast and producers believe Psych 3 takes all of the characters in a more mature direction.

"Corbin says, 'it's the most grown-up Psych' because everybody is sort of reaching a crossroads in their life," said Franks, who co-wrote the movie with Roday Rodriguez. "This movie is about, now what? What's the thing after you become an adult? What's next? Each character goes through that." That being said, don't worry Psych is still Psych. "The last 20 minutes of this movie are the craziest thing we've ever done and probably the proudest thing that I feel ever to be involved with," Franks said.

Watch the trailer above.

Psych 3: This Is Gus begins streaming Thursday, Nov. 18 on Peacock.

[attllhak]

Adoption AU - Wild and Warriors: The Epic Quest For Taco Bell at 3 am

@tortilla-of-courage so you mentioned you’d be interested in my Adoption AU one-shots, and now that things have calmed down in my house a bit I figured I’d post the first one-shot I wrote; the one about Wild and Warriors going for a Taco Bell run. Theoretically, I was going to do a one-shot for each grouping of boys, as an introduction, but I don’t think that’s happening anymore. Either way, here’s the first thing I wrote!

(And, anyone else who would like to be tagged if/when I post more for this AU, let me know here and I’ll make a list or something)

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

“anyone know any good substitutes for love and personal fulfilment?”

Warriors sent the tweet without much thought. He didn’t actually care about an answer, he just felt like venting about his most recent break up in a vague way, and thought he was being funny. He could already see Legend rolling his eyes.

His phone dinged a few times, one reply from Twilight, asking why he was up so late (which he’d responded to with the same inquiry, which had Twilight going silent), one from Legend mocking him, one from Hyrule trying to actually help. He was surprised how many of his brothers were up at this hour.

He dropped the phone on his bed, rubbing his eyes. He wasn’t actually all that tired, probably a consequence of having all afternoon classes and a habit of leaving his work to the last minute. Eh, the first year was supposed to be mostly parties anyways. (Not that Time would ever find out he said that.)

His phone dinged again and he groaned, eying the clock and the small bottle of melatonin next to it. 2:43 am. He should sleep. He didn’t have anything tomorrow, he finished his last final earlier that afternoon, though, so a few more minutes couldn’t hurt.

He picked up the phone and woke it up again. He blinked a few times at the new reply.

“crunchwrap supreme from taco bell”

He ignored Twilight yelling at Wild for being up, as apparently Wild did have a final tomorrow still. Not that Wild was paying any more attention.

He snorted, hitting the like button on Wild’s tweet and clicking off his phone. He reached up to stretch, yawning as he did. He eyed the melatonin bottle again. Technically, he didn’t need the supplements to sleep, but with how messed up his sleep schedule was, they did help him knock out when he planned on sleeping at a reasonable hour. This wasn’t a reasonable hour, but sleepiness hadn’t set in yet either.

Before he could decide, his phone lit up with a text notification. He tilted his head back and pointed his phone down to look at instead of dropping his arms.

Gordon Ramsey 2:44 am

lets go

Warriors blinked once. Then again. He unlocked his phone to type back.

what?????? go where?????

A second passed when he got a reply.

taco bell

for your substitute for love

since you got dumped and need something

oops was that too soon

sorry 

Warriors blinked at the screen again. Wild lived twenty minutes away from the university Warriors was attending, and the nearest Taco Bell was no closer. Plus, Time had revoked Wild’s driving privileges after he crashed his bike into the barn and broke both and his arm. There was no way Wild was getting to the university, much less a fast food joint. Especially at this hour.

and how do you plan to do that? You aren’t allowed to drive yet Mr. Broken Arm

you have a care

*car

That was a very good point.

you are suggesting that I drive 20mins outside of town to pick you up, drive another 20mins back into town, then drive around downtown until we find an open taco bell, at 3am on a school night before you have a final?

There was a few seconds pause, just long enough for Warriors to consider that he’d given up on it.

no

we wont be driving all over town

i googled it and found one

its like 10mins form your collage

*from

*college

Warriors considered that.

twilight won’t be happy

only if he finds out

Wild made a very good point.

how do you plan to get out of the house without him noticing?

i have a window war

The response was so immediate, and he was probably sleep deprived enough, that he burst out laughing when it sent.

20mins

He clicked his phone shut and shoved it in his pocket, grabbing a jacket and his scarf on the way out of his room. He was struggling to shrug them both on at once when he realized his roommate was still up too. There was a tense staredown as their eyes met and they both froze.

Volga broke the standoff by closing his book. “And where are you going at this hour?”

Warriors considered that. “My brother bribed me with food to break him out of the house,”

“At,” he glanced at his watch, “two forty-nine am?”

“Yes,”

The silence was tense.

Volga sighed and opened his book again. “Don’t crash and die, I’d hate to have to get a new roommate when I’ve finally gotten used to you,”

“Don’t burn the dorm down while I’m gone,” Warriors joked back, finally getting the fabric to work with him.

“It happened once, and it’s not like you’re any better at cooking!”

“I don’t set what I make on fire, and then freak out and throw it when blowing out that fire doesn’t work,” he grabbed his keys from the dish by the door and waved behind him.

“It happened once, Link!”

“And it’s why we order out now,” he grinned, ducking out the door. “See you later, Volg, be back in an hour or so,”

He could hear Volga’s angry shout through the door, so hurried down the stairs to the ground level as quickly as he could, before Volga woke their neighbor again.

He was still giggling when he got to the parking lot. Volga was just too easy to rile up.

The cool night air woke him up a little more so, and he took a deep breath as he located his car. A hand-me-down vehicle, he inherited it from Time when he was old enough to drive. Mostly this was so he could stop asking everyone else for their cars when he wanted to go somewhere. A little elbow grease however, and no one could tell it was at least 20 years old and not fresh off the lot. He made sure none of his brothers were allowed to drive it, especially after Wild got his bike stuck in a tree, or Legend crashed into a lake, or Twilight picked up drag racing, or Wild got his bike stuck on the roof, or Hyrule lost his car, or Four rolled his truck, or Wild and the barn literally last week. A lot of the crashes in the family came from Wild going ‘oh yeah? Watch this!’ now that he thought about it. It was a miracle he still had the same bike.

The twenty minute drive to the farm was pretty boring, nothing of note really happening.

He turned off his headlights as he pulled into the drive, not wanting to wake anyone, especially Time, up. He shot off a quick text to Wild when he parked.

A window opened and Legend’s head poked out to glare at him. His phone dinged.

Royal Pain 3:12 am

what are you doing here?

He glared back at Legend and typed out a response.

taco bell run

Legend glanced down, presumably at his phone, then back up a Warriors with an incredulous expression.

at 3am????

and if so why are you /here/????

Warriors pointedly looked around the house where Wild emerged from the bushes. Said brother grinned and popped open the passenger door to climb in.

“Hey,” he grinned. His hair was a mess, with at least two visible sticks stuck in it, and he was still in his sleep clothes. Despite this, he seemed fine.

“Legend has us made,” Warriors nodded to their brother, who was still glaring with his head out the window.

Royal Pain 3:15 am

twilight won’t be happy about this

Warriors frowned, trying to shield his phone from Wild as he typed back.

twilight won’t know

Warriors did not like the look in Legend’s eyes as he got the next text.

unless i tell him

Warriors glared up at his brother, working his jaw.

what do you want?

He hated the pleased grin Legend shot him.

the most expensive thing on the menu on your dime

fine

Warriors shoved his phone away with a growl, flipping off the overly smug Legend as he put the car in gear. “Asshole,” he muttered.

“What was that about?” Wild asked.

“We’re buying him food too now,” Warriors growled, flicking back on his headlights.

“Oh, cool,” Wild leaned back into the seat and pulled out his phone. “So the Taco Bell we’re going to only has the drive thru open, and it’s just off main street,”

Warriors nodded, focussing on the road and not that Wild had found the aux cord.

About thirty minutes later, as Wild finally turned down the music to provide directions, he snapped and turned to Warriors mid direction. “Do you want to sign my cast?”

Warriors blinked. “Maybe when we stop, I’m not crashing to sign your cast right now.”

Wild nodded, and pointed across Warriors at the street they had to go down.

They pulled into the drive thru and ordered, then had to wait for the very expensive thing Legend wanted. Warriors turned to Wild as the car idled.

“Do you have a marker?”

Wild blinked at him, then brightened up and offered out a sharpie and his right arm. The cast, under the signatures and well wishes of their family and all of Wild’s friends, was painted in very poorly drawn flames. Warriors raised an eyebrow as he searched for a clear spot to sign.

“Hyrule painted it for me,” Wild explained with a grin.

“Ah,” Warriors hummed as he finally tracked down an empty space by Wild’s elbow.

He scrawled out his name, not much room for anything else, and then handed the capped sharpie back to Wild while he twisted around to accept the food from the drive thru worker.

He shot off a text to Legend to let him know they had his food, alongside an upset emoji. Legend sent him a devil face emoji back. Wild dug through the bag for his food, sharpie stuck in his hair alongside the twigs, which seemed to be multiplying.

Warriors rolled his eyes and pulled back onto the road.

At some point, Wild pulled the wrap out and handed it to Warriors, who ate one handed as he drove. Wild was right about one thing, the wrap did taste very good.

He pulled into the drive of the farmhouse, headlights off, just as he finished off the wrap. He phone dinged the second he put the car in park.

Royal Pain 3:58 am

where’s my food bitch

Warriors looked up to the window where Legend was leaning out and glaring at him.

Wild laughed at the surly look on Legend’s face, climbing out and taking the bag with him. “I’ll feed him,” he promised, grinning. “Thanks for the trip, War!”

“No problem,” Warriors grinned back. “Just make sure you get to bed once you’re inside, so Twi doesn’t suspect in the morning,”

Wild gave him a thumbs up. He shut the door a little too hard, making Warriors wince, and bounced up to throw the bag up to Legend. Legend caught it the second time, when Wild opted to use his not broken arm to toss it, and disappeared inside again. Warriors’ phone dinged again a few seconds later.

Royal Pain 4:00 am

thanks pretty boy

your secret is safe with me

for now

Warriors rolled his eyes and sent him a thumbs up back, then pulled out of the drive again to head back to campus. He was actually starting to feel tired now, so he figured he’d get home and just crash. It’d be like, 4:30 in the morning by then, and he was pretty sure Volga would be asleep. And if he wasn’t, they had a rule that after 4 am until 7 they were allowed to ignore each other, so it’d be fine.

Volga was asleep when Warriors snuck in, passed out in a chair with the book on his chest. Warriors took the sight in, then sighed.

He dropped his keys in the dish, then pulled off his jacket and scarf to hang in his room. He grabbed a bookmark off his shelf and wandered back out to pull the book off of Volga’s chest and set it down so the spine wouldn’t crease. He left Volga like that, however. He didn’t want the books to get damaged, but if Volga was dumb enough to fall asleep in the common room without a blanket, then he deserved what he woke up with.

He was very lucky that Warriors was too tired to find a sharpie.

He fell asleep before remembering to take off his shoes.

(---)

The next morning, so about noon, he was woken by Volga pounding on the door to put his phone on silent.

His phone buzzed on the desk next to him and he pulled it off and up to his head, hitting answer before looking at the contact.

“Hullo?” He slurred, still half asleep.

“Twilight knows,” Legend greeted him.

“What?” Warriors sat up, groaning as his back complained from sleeping on his stomach all night. It took a second for his brain to catch up.

“Twilight knows,” Legend repeated. “Hyrule sold you out, unintentionally, and I can hear him selling you both out to Time,”

Warriors blanched as the words registered. “Oh shit,” he threw himself out of bed, hissing as he realized he slept fully dressed, and scrambled for the things he’d need in order to flee. “How long?”

“Twenty minutes if you get lucky and Wind pulls through, less if not,”

Warriors cursed under his breath as he changed his shirt and tried to make it look like he hadn’t been sleeping in what he was wearing. “Thanks for the heads up, I’d say I owe you but,”

“You’d rather not owe me,”

“Yeah,”

“Look, if you get caught and cave, I go down too. This is self-preservation. Don’t cave and we’re even.”

“Got it, I won’t,”

“You better not,” Legend hissed. “Good luck,”

“Thanks,” Warriors nodded, even though Legend couldn’t see him.

He tossed the phone on his dresser as the line went dead and he went about trying to comb through his hair so he looked presentable.

A hard knock on his door came a few seconds later.

“I put my phone on vibrate, Volga!” He shouted through the door. “You can drop it now!”

“Link?”

Warriors paused, then opened the door. Lana, Impa and Artemis waited on the other side, Volga glaring at them and hovering behind them.

Warriors blinked dumbly at them. “Uh, hi?”

“Hi Link! Good morning!” Lana grinned and waved at him.

“It’s noon,” Impa reminded the group, eying Warriors up and down.

“Oh, right,” Lana nodded, then went back to grinning at him. “Good noon, Link!”

He snorted and shook his head to clear it. “Good noon to you too, Lana. Can I ask what you’re all doing here?”

“We were hoping you’d join us for something,” Artemis smiled at him, also looking him over, trying to find whatever Impa had picked up on. “We’re going on a small road trip since all our finals are over, and we were planning on hitting a few different cities over the week,”

“Mhm,” Lana nodded quickly. “We’re leaving today, and are taking no calls until we get back, and we’re camping in the car, which is why we’re using my van, and we were hoping you’d come with us,”

“I’m in,”

The three girls blinked at him. Maybe he answered too fast, but taking no calls, meaning no contact with his family, for a week gave them time to move past this, and he really didn’t want to deal with a lecture from Time. His friends just offered him asylum, whether they knew it or not.

Impa narrowed her eyes. “What happened with your family?” She asked, already onto him.

“Nothing that’s my fault,” he responded, ducking back into his room. “What should I bring with?”

Lana listed off what they figured they’d take and he pulled out a suitcase, nodding along as he started packing. He fired off a text to the group chat as he grabbed his jacket, tossed over one arm, and wrapped his scarf around his neck.

World’s Best Captain 11:39 am

Leaving on a road trip with some friends. Be back in a week, but I can’t take calls until I’m back. Don’t kill each other!

He put his phone on silent and slipped it into his pocket.

He might have a hellish text backlog when he got back, but it’d be better than the lecture from Time. And besides, he got to spend a week with the best girls he knew.

As far as he was concerned, everything worked out win-win for him.

Wild was right, the crunchwrap supreme from Taco Bell did work wonders in supplying love and personal fulfilment, even if not in the way he meant it.

He made a note to get Wild something as thanks while they were out. Maybe some crash pads. Goddesses knew that his brother needed them.

[jakeyp]

“I don’t know why I’m crying I-I’m sorry” // angst and fluff ♥︎

hi... i kind of wrote a small fic with that prompt. you can read it here or on ao3! thanks for this i really needed the motivation. i decided to write something about what happened after 8x06! <3 

—

Amy arrives home a little later than usual that night, overwhelmed with the events of the last few days. There are so many things to process, though the only thing she can focus on at the moment, is her husband’s suspension. She knows Jake very well, and most likely he’ll try to hide his sadness and pretend he’s fine, not because he thinks he’s weak but because he doesn’t want Amy to worry about him. Yet, she can’t help to wonder how he’s taking it.

Not knowing what to expect as she enters their apartment, Amy tosses her keys onto the couch sadly, too distracted to place them on the key hook. Jake is nowhere to be seen, so she figures he must be putting Mac to sleep, since it’s past ten already, and there are no toys scattered around the floor.

Indeed, she finds Jake whispering to his son, who lies in his crib, babbling and very, very awake, even though the lights are dimmed and it’s quiet in there.

“Hey,” Amy says softly.

Despite her tone, Jake startles, turning around, but immediately relaxes when he sees it’s just her. “Ames,” he breathes, looking down at Mac and then back at his wife, guilt taking over his features. “I kind of let him take a nap earlier and now he can’t sleep…”

“It’s okay,” Amy says, shrugging. She wants to add something else to reassure him, but her mind’s entirely blank, so she settles for a casual question. “What did you two have for dinner?”

Jake smiles. “He tried scrambled eggs for the first time. I know it’s technically breakfast food, but I read he can eat them now, plus it’s what I cook best.”

“And?”

“He loved them, duh.”

Amy chuckles. “Of course. Did you have some too?”

“I… wasn’t really hungry.”

“Oh. Well, I haven’t eaten either. We can heat some leftovers if you want.”

Jake nods with a weak smile, which widens as he turns to check on Mac. “Hey, he’s asleep! Maybe he just needed to make sure mama arrived home safe.”

Amy leans over to look at her sleeping son. Mac looks so much like his dad, when he laughs or smiles—which he’s been doing recently a lot—but especially when he’s asleep and completely peaceful.

She turns to see Jake staring at their baby with a proud smile and it warms her heart. Perhaps he’s forgotten about the suspension.

“Leftovers, then?” she whispers after a while, grabbing him by the wrist to pull him a little closer to her.

“Sure,” he says, throwing a last glance at Mac before following Amy out of their room and closing the door behind him. They’ve learned to make as little noise as possible in the last ten months, so their voices are barely above a whisper by default whenever Mac is asleep.

As it’s routine, Jake turns on the TV, not choosing a channel, and mutes it before joining Amy in the kitchen, while she gets the food from the fridge and puts it in the microwave.

From the corner of her eye, she can see Jake leaning against the counter in an awkward pose, staring at her almost anxiously.

Amy has no idea how to ask the question she’s been wanting to ask him since she got there, so she takes a deep breath and turns to him. “Babe, are you… okay with it?”

His expression tells her he’s been dreading her to ask. Yet, he plays dumb. “With what?”

“With everything that happened. Your suspension…”

“Oh,” Jake spats after what seems like hours, as if every emotion he was supposed to be feeling before was just settling in. Amy’s stomach drops. These subjects might not be her thing. “It’s fine. I suppose I can talk about it, but is it necessary?”

She shrugs. “Just tell me.” Her voice is as soft as it can be. “How do you feel about it?”

Jake puts on a poker face now. She’s usually good at reading him, but she can’t tell what he’s thinking. Amy knows how much he enjoys his job. Everything had happened so fast, though, at some point she’d lost track of it all. One second he was very excited about his ‘Speed’ situation and then, suddenly, he was in too deep.

To sum it up, it hadn’t gone well.

“I feel weird,” Jake finally admits, looking down. “It feels weird to know I won’t be going back tomorrow. But I’ll… adapt, I guess.”

“I’m sure you will,” she automatically replies, hesitating a little before placing a hand on his chest.

He seems to attempt a smile, but it vanishes right away. “I feel stupid too. Why can’t I listen? Holt told me to stay out of it and I screwed up. I screw up a lot.”

Amy frowns. “Of course you don’t. Sometimes you can be silly, yes, but there’s nothing wrong with it. This time it just… it got out of my hands too. I was really drunk.”

Jake chuckles. “Yeah,” he says shortly, and then swallows. “So five months, huh? It isn’t that much, is it? There are like thirty days in a month so it would be like a hundred days which have twenty-four hours each, so it would be like twenty-four thousand hours.”

“No,” she says, shaking her head with a smile. Math is decidedly not Jake’s strength. “It’s only like… three thousand and seven hundred hours.”

“Oh. That’s… still a lot.”

Amy sighs. His eyes are red, probably with exhaustion, and she can’t recognize the emotion behind them. It might be just deep, deep sadness.

“Ames,” he says huskily before she can talk. “What am I gonna do?”

Her eyebrows shot up, but before she can even think of an answer, Jake cuts her off again. “Things were so well yesterday. It makes me think… I can mess everything up so quickly. And it’s always my fault. What am I gonna mess up next?”

“Don’t say that,” she says, her throat knotting. “It’s okay to make mistakes, babe. And you are great at dealing with the consequences. You learn from your mistakes, you’ve always done.”

“Yeah, I keep pushing things until something goes wrong,” he argues in a trembling voice, “and until then I stop, I—” and suddenly that trembling voice breaks.

Amy’s stomach drops again as his eyes tear up, becoming redder. He immediately looks away when he realizes himself.

“Hey,” she says soothingly, cupping his face to make him look at her. “Don’t beat yourself up over this.”

“I’m sorry,” he chokes. “I know it’s a dumb thing to cry over, I just—” once more he’s unable to finish his sentence, pinching his lips shut before his voice can get any louder or high-pitched.

A single tear streams down his cheek.

“It’s not dumb,” Amy says. “If it makes you feel like this, it’s not dumb.”

“Well, I got myself into it—”

“And as I said, you will learn from it. That’s what matters.”

“I’ve been suspended like a thousand times already,” he counters, his tone bitter. "What makes you think it won’t happen again? What makes you think I couldn’t get fired?”

She shrugs, trying to stay calm even though she wants to cry as well. “I wouldn’t be less proud of you than I am today,” she says. “You’ve grown up so much and whatever you have to deal with, I have to deal with too, because I love you and I’m willing to. So please, don’t beat yourself up over this because it’s going to be fine.”

He sniffs. “How can you know that?”

“Because I’ll make sure everything’s fine. You’re not alone, babe. You have me.”

Jake stays in silence for a few seconds, and she thinks he’s going to start sobbing, but his lips curl instead. “I love you so much,” is all he says.

“I love you too,” she mouths back, afraid she’ll begin crying if she talks, and then pulls him into a hug.

They stay like that for a while, maybe five seconds or ten minutes, sinking in a silence that they don’t really mind. She pulls away from his embrace only to wipe his tears away. Jake looks so tired. Exhausted, even. She feels the same way, when minutes ago they were going to watch some TV and have dinner, though now she’s not sure she’s up for it.

Jake must have been thinking the same thing because a small laugh comes from his lips all of a sudden.

“What?” Amy asks, amused.

“I just realized we never even heated the food.”

Amy chuckles, and it only causes him to laugh a little harder. She wonders if it’s the exhaustion making such a simple detail seem so funny, and rests her head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat. It’s calmer now, it could be matching hers.

“Babe,” she says softly.

“Yes?” Jake hums.

“It’s going to be fine. I promise.”

He doesn’t answer right away, and Amy separates, afraid she said the wrong thing, but Jake’s only bowing his head like she said the cheesiest thing in the world.

“I know. Thanks, Ames,” he says, and then adds, “I love you.” Even though she hears those words coming from him at least ten times a day, he manages to make them sound like it’s the first every time.

“I love you too,” Amy whispers, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

Jake is about to return a much longer kiss on the lips when Mac interrupts the moment. Amy squeezes her eyes shut with a knowing smile—this has happened many times before. However, Jake immediately becomes alert and rushes to attend to his son.

Amy chuckles to herself, finally heating the food which is still inside the microwave and turns off the TV, because they are definitely not watching anything before they fall asleep, worn off with the events.

Like Jake would say, they’re sort of an old couple now, but she couldn’t care less. To her, so far, it’s meant that things can be so easy now.

Her husband doesn’t join her back in the kitchen so she goes and checks on him and Mac. The room feels so warm and quiet still, as Jake rocks his son softly, lulling him, again not realizing Amy’s watching. It always seems like he drifts away from reality when he’s trying to make Mac stop crying—and he’s good at it. She doesn’t know what it is, but Jake is great at it.

“I have to admit,” Amy says, startling him of course, “I’m a little jealous of you. You get to spend five months with him, all by yourself.”

Jake gives her what looks like an automatic smile, and then realization hits him. “I hadn’t thought about that before,” he huffs, stroking Mac’s soft curls and looking down at him. “Did you hear that, bud? Five months for only the two of us.”

Mac babbles, and Amy tries to ignore how awake he still sounds. “Careful, Ames,” Jake tells her. “That sounded a lot like ‘dada’, and with these five months? It’s definitely going to be his first word.”

Amy rolls her eyes with a playful smile. “Not if I train him every night.”

“Challenge accepted.”

An hour later they’re both in bed after eating dinner and Amy has already changed into her pajamas. Jake hasn’t stopped rocking Mac, who woke up once more, but his father doesn’t seem to mind, and Amy has the feeling that his suspension doesn’t sound so bad to him anymore.

—

[the-bau-quinjet]

But with you, it’s different...

So, I’ve combined two of my great obsessions: Criminal Minds and Taylor Swift. Pretend the reader is Taylor Swift in the sense that she wrote and recorded the songs, but that’s it. Also, the songs are all out of order and not from the albums so just pretend that’s okay. I don’t reference the albums, but individual songs and yeah. It’s honestly kind of a mess, but also makes me happy. This is part 1! I have most of it written, so I should be able to post the other parts pretty soon. I think there will be 3 actual parts and then a short epilogue! Last thing, Spencer is a little out of character. I (try to) explain that later!!

Summary: Reader is a famous singer with a murderous stalker. Spencer has to go undercover to protect her. 

warnings: mentions of murder, anxious reader

Word Count: 7940

You weren’t expecting anything out of the ordinary to happen tonight. It was just the usual Saturday night. Honestly, you were looking forward to having a boring two weeks off. You absolutely loved touring and performing and seeing your fans, but it was going to be great to have some time just to write again. Writing music has always helped you de-stress and get your emotions out, and you were supposed to finally have a chance to do just that. However, the universe had different plans. Plans that involved the FBI.

This was your second night in DC. It was the first of some of the bigger cities on your tour where you were doing two shows, so you are even more exhausted than normal. You really only just started the US leg of your tour, but the two weeks off was well earned from the Europe, Asia, and South America legs.

 As you begin to perform the second to last song, you start to feel the familiar sadness you get when finishing a show. It’s almost as though the adrenaline rush from the excitement of so many screaming fans is wearing off and you can’t help but feel a bit sorry that the fun is coming to an end. After so many performances though, you’ve learned how to hide the emotions and give the audience your best fake smile. The last song is where you have some real fun, so just make it there.

 As you duck off stage to change for the final performance, you can’t help but notice the small group of people conversing, quite tensely, with your security team. They don’t look like the normal fans who would try to sneak backstage, too official. You make eye contact with one of them. He looks to be about your age, but you’ve never been great at guessing. There’s something about him that makes you want to find out exactly who he is right now, but you can’t. 

You’re left wondering about his identity as you run back onstage for the grand finale. You feel a genuine smile appearing as you feel the heat from the fireworks and listen to the happy cheers from the crowd. You’re last song goes off without a hitch, but you’re exhausted. There’s nothing you want more than to just shower and sleep, but there’s always a buzz about the cast and crew that prevents anyone from leaving right away.

 “Thank you for a great second night DC! Goodnight!” You shout into the mic as you duck back offstage to ride out the post show high. You are still chatting with some of the dancers you’ve become friends with when Carrie, the head of security, comes up with one of the men you saw arguing with her earlier.

 “Y/N? Can I talk to you for a minute?” You turn, surprised to see the stern man standing behind Carrie. “Yeah, sure.” You turn to excuse yourself from the dancers, wishing them a goodnight before turning back to Carrie.

 “We can go do your dressing room, that’s where the others are waiting.” Carrie says with a nervous smile on her face.

 “The others?” You ask confused, jogging to keep up with the brisk pace she has set for you and the stern man. “Who are we talking to?”

 “I’m sure you have a lot of questions. We will explain everything as soon as we meet up with the rest of the team.” The stern man spoke quietly, but with confidence as he followed behind you and Carrie. Before you could ask anything else, you were being ushered into your dressing room, coming face to face with the other two people you saw arguing with Carrie earlier. The first one you notice is a woman with jet black hair and fierce eyes. The other is the tall, lanky man you made eye contact with.

 You’re a little excited to get a closer look. He looks a little awkward at first glance, but you can tell he’s a sneaky sort of attractive underneath the perfectly placed tie and the comfy cardigan. Before you can get too caught up in how good looking these three strangers are, you turn to the stern one and ask “Who are you, and what are you doing here?” Your tone clearly indicates the confusion you’re feeling. 

 “Ms. L/N, my name is Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner. I am the Unit Chief for the Behavioral Analysis Unit at the FBI.” You can feel your eyes go wide as he shows you a badge with his picture and title. Before you can respond, he begins talking again. “These are SSAs Emily Prentiss” the woman gives you a reassuring smile and slight wave, “and Dr. Spencer Reid.” The sneakily attractive one nods his head in your general direction.

 The woman just introduced as Emily chimes in “we are here because we believe there is a killer targeting fans of your music. We have been tracking murders for the past two weekends. The first was in Louisville, Kentucky, then Columbus, Ohio, and then two right here in D.C.”

 “I was just in Louisville… and Columbus.” You feel yourself beginning to get dizzy as you try to comprehend what the agents are telling you.

 “Yes, and now you’re in DC.” The boss man is talking again. “We made the connection this afternoon as you had two shows here in DC.” The room is starting to spin as you listen to the man talk. “After more digging, we found each victim had purchased a ticket to your show. Additionally, they all had social media accounts dedicated as fan pages to you.” Agent Hotchner continues speaking as you nod along, trying to comprehend how this was happening. You don’t even realize you are tuning him out as you begin to sway on your feet. You can see his mouth moving, and the growing look of concern on his face is the last thing you see before the world goes dark.

 --

 You can hear a faint beeping as you begin to wake up. For a moment, you are blissfully unaware of the murders before the memory of meeting the three agents comes back to you. You instantly sit up and look around, trying to figure out where you are. You can see a very muscular bald man through a window, talking to someone in scrubs.

 Scrubs. A nurse. You are in the hospital.

 Your heart rate begins to calm down before skyrocketing again when you hear “Ms. L/N?” from the other side of the room. Turning with wide eyes and a scared expression, you throw your arms up to defend yourself from the unknown voice.

 “Sorry! Sorry, uh- I didn’t mean to scare you! I’m Dr. Spencer Reid.” Instantly you relax again at the familiar face. You drop your arms back to the bed, shifting into a more comfortable position before asking “Okay, Doctor. What’s wrong with me? Why am I in the hospital?”

He looks at you with a sheepish expression, rubbing the back of his neck before he admits, “Oh, I’m not that kind of doctor. I’ll go get a nurse or someone. Try to think back on what you remember before waking up here.” He shuffles out of the room as you try to replay the conversation with the other agents.

 Well, it wasn’t much of a conversation with them doing all of the talking, but still. The unknown man from outside your room window and the nurse he was talking to come into the room with Dr. Reid. The nurse begins checking your vitals as she asks you some questions.

 “Hi there. It’s good to see you up. How are you feeling?” She wears a small smile.

 “Oh, um, I feel fine. I think. I’m just confused about how I ended up here. I remember talking to the agents at the arena, but that’s it.” You close your eyes as you try to remember more, but nothing comes to you.

 “That was only about 45 minutes ago, dear.” The nurse’s kind voice helps settle you. “You fainted while the agents were talking to you. They brought you here. You should be good to leave in a few minutes as long as your vitals are good.”

 “Thank you.” You return her kind smile as she marks information on your chart before leaving the room.

 “Ms. L/N, this is SSA Derek Morgan.” The Doctor Agent is talking again.

 “Please, call me Y/N.” You rub your head, continuing to try to remember more about your condition. Before either man in the room can speak up, a new thought occurs to you. “If I fainted, why doesn’t my head hurt? The floor in my dressing room is not soft.” You look between the two men for an explanation.  

 The doctor shifts his weight from foot to foot a blush appearing on his face as Agent Morgan speaks up. “That is because Pretty Boy over here” he claps a hand onto the doctor’s shoulder “caught you before you hit the ground.” “Oh, um… Thank you.” You can feel the blush beginning to form as you think about his arms being around you.

 “It was no problem, really. Can we ask you a few questions?” He moves on quickly. “Oh sure thing Dr. Reid. Or Agent Reid. Agent Dr. Reid?” You can feel the blush growing as you ramble.

 “Just Sp-Spencer is fine.” He cuts you off before you can continue suggesting different honorifics. “What do you remember from what Agent Hotchner was telling you?”

 “He said someone was mur-murdering fans of me.” Tears spring to your eyes as you think about it. “That someone was killed in Kentucky and Ohio and then two people here in DC.” You squeeze your eyes shut, willing the tears not to fall.

 Get a hold of yourself.

 You feel a new weight on your hand before hearing Spencer begin talking again. “Take your time.” You open your eyes to see him patting your hand delicately. He moves back after you take a few deep, calming breaths.

 “I’m sorry. I just feel awful knowing people are dy-dying because of me. Is there anything I can do to help?” You choke on the words a bit, realizing the full gravity of the situation.

 “Do you recognize any of these people?” Agent Morgan pulls out photos of three women and one man, handing them to you to sift through. He seems to be staring at Spencer, but you just focus on the pictures. You can feel the tears building again as you realize who they are.

 “I do.” You take another breath before continuing. “I haven’t met them before, but they are all really active on different social sites. I try to talk to as many fans as I can ya know? They are why I am where I am. Is that why they were killed? Oh god. No no no no.” Your breathe increases in speed as you think about everything that is happening.

 “Hey, hey, hey, none of this is your fault.” Spencer is patting your hand again as he tries to calm you down. Just then, the nurse comes back with some paperwork for you to sign in order to leave.

 “You are free to go Ms. L/N. Just sign these forms and hand them in at the desk on your way out.” She exits the room swiftly.

 “Would you mind coming back to our office to finish talking?” Agent Morgan asks.

 “Of course not. Anything I can do to help.” You turn in the forms before following them to a black SUV. Spencer opens the door for you to get in the back before he slides in next to you. You don’t even have the brain power to consider why he isn’t sitting in the front. You just grab his hand and squeeze it, unable to get the thoughts out of your head that this was all your fault.  

 “This is not your fault. You had no idea what was happening, and now that you do you are trying to help.” Spencer looks at you reassuringly as he squeezes your hand right back. You simply nod back. You don’t trust yourself to speak without crying. You just need to calm down before you get to the office.

 About 15 minutes later you pull up to the FBI building that houses the BAU. They must’ve brought you to a hospital near Quantico. They lead you through security up to the fifth floor. You walk through a set of glass doors, passing a few desks before entering a conference room. “Do you need anything? Coffee, water?” Spencer asks as Agent Morgan leaves the room.

 “Oh, um, no I’m okay for now.” You stare at your hands as you go to sit down. “Actually, could I get a jacket or something?” You gesture to what you’re wearing as you ask. You haven’t had a chance to change yet, meaning you are wearing a black, sequined romper that is basically a leotard with how short it is. Perfect for performing, but not exactly FBI attire. “Of co-course! I’ll be right back.” He practically runs out of the room.

 A few minutes later, he pushes the door back open. “Here’s some clothes you can change into if you want. Or just a sweatshirt.” You look up from your position in the chair, rising to take the clothes.

 “Thank you.” You look from the clothes to him realizing you need to change, but are in a room full of windows in an unfamiliar building.

 He catches on a few seconds later, leading you out of the room. “The bathroom is this way!” He squeaks out as you both walk down a hallway outside the glass doors you came in. “I’ll wait here to show you back.” You smile as you brush past him, whispering thank you as you close the door.

 You instantly take off the romper, sliding on some FBI sweatpants and a matching sweatshirt that smells like vanilla and new books. The scent is oddly comforting. You would think a standard FBI sweatshirt would smell new, but this scent is calming your nerves. You fix your makeup as best you can before heading out of the bathroom. Spencer is a few feet away talking to a beautiful blonde woman. She looks effortlessly gorgeous. She smiles as she notices you, waving you to join them.

 “Ms. L/N, it’s lovely to meet you, although I do wish it was under better circumstances. I am SSA Jennifer Jureau, but you can call me JJ. The rest of the team is waiting for us to join them.” She smiles kindly, but you are frozen in place. You feel like a deer caught in the headlights.

 Spencer grabs your arm lightly, pulling you out of your trance. “It’s okay. Just breathe.” He whispers as the three of you start walking back toward the conference room you were in earlier.

 He lets your arm fall back to your side before guiding you back into the room behind JJ. You freeze again upon entering the room. You recognize Agents Hotchner, Prentiss, and Morgan, but are surprised by the other two faces. There is an older man with salt and pepper hair smiling kindly at you. He reminds you of your father. Then there is a very bubbly blonde, in a very colorful dress and matching glasses.

 They introduce themselves as SSA David Rossi and technical analyst Penelope Garcia. The unit chief begins to describe the case again, going slower this time given your earlier episode. “We believe the unsub is targeting fans of yours who he believes is unworthy of your attention. He worships you and views his victims as people who are not devoted enough to you.”

 You can’t decide how to respond, so you wait for another agent to continue. “Do you know of anyone who might be overly obsessed with you? Maybe they sent you letters that were a bit more personal than normal?” At this point, you decide you are done being controlled by this situation. What happened to those people is awful, but you can’t change it. You need to be strong to help prevent it from happening to anyone else.

 “I haven’t finished my fan letters from this week yet. I try to go through as many as possible, but there is only so much time in a day.” At this point you are pacing. Walking around has always helped you with thinking things over. “There is one letter that sticks out from three weeks ago. That was before the murd-” you stutter on the word. “Before anything happened though. Could that be relevant?” You ask, looking hopeful. If the agents are surprised by your change of attitude they don’t mention it.

 “It might be. What did it say?” Agent Hotchner asks, the same stern expression adorning his features.

 “I don’t remember all of it, but it looked like it was written on a typewriter, so it stood out. It said something about how they wondered if my hair smelled like peaches after I finished a show. I thought it was weird because my shampoo is peach scented, but how could they possibly know that? I figured I must have met them in passing, you know. I meet a lot of fans just walking around the different cities. Something just felt weird about this letter though. Like a bad feeling. I mean, my hair doesn’t really retain the scent of my shampoo all that much. So how could he know that unless he knew what shampoo I use? But actually, I use a personalized shampoo so I can change the scent every time I but it- it must’ve been a lucky guess, right? Maybe I just look like I would use peach scented shampoo” You feel like you are talking a mile a minute, but you can’t get yourself to stop. You practically fall back into your chair as you finish rambling about the letter, looking up to see unmistakable expressions of concern on the agents’ faces.

 “What? What does that mean? Oh god- How does he know my shampoo smells like peaches?” You look between all the agents as they seem to be communicating with just their eyes. You resort to taking calming breaths again. They’ll fill you in eventually, you need to breathe. You drop your head between your thighs as you push your chair away from the table. Breathe in for 7 seconds, hold for 7, and breathe out for 7. This always helps calm you down before a show.

 You choose to ignore the agents quietly talking to each other again as you focus on slowing your heart rate back to a normal pace.

 “Ms. L/N?” You look up exasperatedly, “Please, just call me Y/N.”

 “Then you can call me Penelope!” The woman has such a kindness to her that you can’t help but smile back at her.

 “What can I do for you Penelope?” She seems a bit surprised, but she responds in kind.

 “I just wanted to ask if you wanted some coffee. Or water or anything?” You smile at her kind gesture, rising from your seat.

 “Actually, some tea would be wonderful. But, please, let me come help you. These guys seem like they need to talk and it would probably be easier if I wasn’t in the room.” You smile as you walk out the door, leaving the agents slightly stunned at your observational skills in your distressed state.

 Penelope follows you out and leads you to what you assume is the break room. “We don’t really have much tea, but I know where the good doctor keeps his private collection.” She whispers conspiratorially as she searches through a small cabinet. “Aha! Here it is.” She presents you with a pretty impressive collection of teas. You opt for the simple peppermint. You have always found peppermint tea the most soothing.

 She hands you a mug before gesturing to the Keurig on the counter. You place the teabag in the cup, selecting the largest cup on the machine, and brewing hot water for your tea. The two of you don’t say anything while it steeps. Penelope speaks up when you move to sit down at the small table.

 “I just have to say, I am a huge fan of yours.” You can’t hide the smile that forms on your face. You have always loved meeting fans. They are just so sweet and you appreciate them beyond belief.

 “Thank you so much!” She seems a bit relieved at your response. “That’s honestly so nice to hear right now. I kind of feel like a mess.” You gesture to the oversized clothes you’ve got on.

 “Please, you look so gorgeous right now. It’s amazing. Your music is amazing too. I absolutely love Begin Again! It’s so romantic!” She gushes over the song.

 “Honestly, that one took me forever to write. I was in a pretty bad place after a bad breakup, convinced I would never love again. Dramatic, I know.” You roll your eyes at yourself. “But then I saw these two people in a café, and they just looked so happy. The idea of a new love forming so casually right in front of me was beautiful.” You smile thinking about the couple, wondering if they are still together.

 “Wow, so you can really right about anything?” She looks while asking the question.

 “Pretty much. I mean, they won’t all be good. It could be the tiniest moment or a huge thing in my life. Inspiration comes from everywhere. A lot of songs actually draw from multiple experiences, not just one thing. I could totally see myself writing a song about you.”

“No way! That would be insane.” You smile at her enthusiasm.

 “I’m serious! You just give of this energy that is so positive, it’s hard to remember ever being sad. I think it would be about how confident you are. Something like…” you trail off as you begin to hum, setting up your phone to record. “You’re the only one of you, baby that’s the fun of you. And I promise that nobody’s gonna love you like me!” You hum a few more bars before ending the recording.

 “That was insane. How do you do that?!” She has a wild kind of excitement in her eyes.

 “I don’t know. You just inspired me.” You grin at the shocked expression in her eyes.

 “Sing it again!” And you can’t help but give her what she wants.

 You hum a bit more of a melody that could work before jumping into the words you already said. You add a few more here and there, but nothing concrete. In your focus on singing, you don’t hear the door open behind you.

 “I’m the only one of me, baby that’s the fun of me. Oh oh oh. You’re the only one of you, baby that’s the fun of you. And I promise that you’ll never find another like me.” “I don’t doubt it.” You turn in shock to look at the person behind you, seeing none other than Spencer Reid in the doorway. You don’t notice the flush of embarrassment on his cheeks that you heard his comment, just like he doesn’t notice the matching expression on your face. Penelope though, she notices. And, she can’t wait to tell Derek.

 Spencer clears his throat before speaking again. “We’re ready for you to come back in if you’re up for it. We want to talk to you about a plan to keep you safe.”

 “Sure thing.” You grab your tea from the table before you and Penelope follow Spencer back to the conference room. You sitting cross-legged in your seat. You feel much calmer after chatting with Penelope. Song writing has always been cathartic for you, and it is reassuring that hasn’t changed.

The agents waste no time getting down to business. “We believe the unsub has broken into your tour bus. If the letter was from him, it would explain how he knows about the peach scent.” Agent Rossi starts.

 Agent Morgan continues, “It’s an easier target than a hotel room or your personal home since fewer people would be securing it.” You nod along with them. You are determined to stay strong through this.

 “We want to completely ensure your safety, so we think it best to send an agent to stay with you while we work on the case.” Agent Prentiss chimes in. You feel like you’re going to get whiplash looking between all their faces.

 “Since we haven’t ruled out people on the crew, we want this to remain as secret as possible. We will inform the head of security on your team, but other than that the agent will be undercover.” Agent Hotchner, stern as ever, appears to be studying your reaction.

 “Okay.” You sigh. “Okay, I can handle this. I’ll be fine. I’ll have an agent with me. Who’s going undercover? Do you have a cover story planned?” You look at Agent Hotchner with nervous eyes.

 “We wanted to plan the cover story with you to make it as believable as possible. What are you planning on doing for the next few weeks?” You consider what your plans consist of. Honestly, nothing but songwriting.

 “I plan on mostly working on songwriting. I usually go to cafes, parks, or anywhere really with people for inspiration. If I already have an idea, I’ll write from my hotel room or from home if I’m there. If any of you have any musical experience, then we could make up a cover story about a new writing partner. Nobody would really question it because I write with new people all the time.” You glance around the room to see if anyone is willing to take you up on your offer. Nobody says anything for a minute. They are communicating with looks again.

 Penelope chimes in “Reid knows how to play the piano!” You can’t help but latch on to the statement as you turn toward Spencer.

 “Really, that would be so helpful! I normally write to piano or guitar and then add any additional instrumental later in the studio. If you can play, then the story would look even more believable!” You are actually getting excited about this idea working out. You finally feel like you’ve helped them with something. They probably could’ve figured it out without you, but still.

 “Yes, I can play. I mean, it’s just mathematics if you think about it.” Spencer responds quietly, like his mind is somewhere else.

 “Reid, if you feel comfortable with it, that story sounds like great cover.” Reid nods at Agent Hotchner. “Great. You can go to your place and grab some clothes and anything else you’ll need.” He says to Spencer before turning his attention to you. You watch as Spencer walks out with the rest of the team before turning to meet Agent Hotchner’s eye. “It’s best if we stick to your plans as closely as possible. If the unsub is someone who works with you, he will likely notice if you start changing your behavior too much.” You nod in response, mentally going through everything you do from day to day.

 “Agent Reid will stay with you in your hotel room if you are comfortable with it. That is the safest arrangement since he will be close by if anything happens. We will also have agents tail you when you go out in public. We’ll have a rotation of agents in the rooms around yours each night to allow Reid to rest as well. He knows how to contact us, but we will program our numbers into your phone as well for backup. Do not hesitate to call any one of us if something feels even remotely wrong, no matter the time. Do you understand?”

 Again, you nod in response. It’s a lot of information to take in and honestly, you’re still thinking about sharing a hotel room with Spencer.

 “We will need to see the letter you mentioned earlier if you still have it. We would also like to go through the fan mail you currently have and any new mail that comes in. If you see anything else that feels off or seems suspicious, tell Reid or call one of us. If you remember anything else, tell Reid or call one of us.” He gives you a questioning glance to ensure you are following.

 “Basically, tell Reid everything. Got it.” You try to remain lighthearted even though Agent Hotchner’s serious expression hasn’t waned in the slightest.

 “It’s good to see you’ve got a good attitude about this. It’s hard to remain calm, but it will help limit any suspicion on the part of the unsub. We don’t want to escalate his plans. Do you have any questions for me?” He gives you a reassuring look as you contemplate everything he’s told you.

 “What does unsub mean?” you blurt out, surprising both of you. “Sorry, that was loud.” You cringe. “I just meant, why do you call the criminal, unsub?”

 You can see the faintest of smiles on his face as he replies, “Right, we can get pretty wrapped up in a case. It stands for unidentified subject. We try not to assign nicknames or anything to the perpetrators as it can affect their behavior.”

 “Right. Behavior.” You try to sound like you understand, but honestly this is so much different from all the detective shows you’ve seen. Apparently, Agent Hotchner notices and explains more.

 “We catch criminals by analyzing their behavior and trying to predict what they’ll do next.”

 “Like psychology? Nature vs. Nurture and mental disorders?” You ask, suddenly very curious about how this all works.

 “Yes, just like that, although we normally go a little deeper.”

 “So what can you tell about this unsub? That way I know what to look for.” Agent Hotchner seems pleased with this question.

 “The unsub is a man, likely 25-40. Age is the hardest thing to predict, so don’t follow that guideline too strictly. He likely suffers from antisocial personality disorder stemming from negligent parents and has always had trouble interacting with people. He is highly organized, which usually indicates high intelligence, but in this case could be due to the time he spends alone planning. His lack of social skills has resulted in him only working menial jobs. He won’t have worked anywhere for more than a few months before finding a new job since people find him odd or off-putting. He has always felt as though he deserves more because of his self presumed high intelligence. It is possible you met him in passing and any act of kindness toward him resulted in an obsession with you. He doesn’t have the courage to approach you, so he watches from afar or online. That’s how he found his earlier victims. Since you don’t have any shows in the next few weeks, his MO might change slightly. That’s why we want to be so cautious and make sure we can ensure your safety.” You sit quietly for a moment, trying to picture anyone who fits the description. You try to meet the people who work with you, but you certainly don’t know everyone. You were honestly hopeful the description would point you toward a suspect, but you’ve got nothing. “I can’t think of anyone like that, but now I know what to look out for. Thank you Agent Hotchner.” “Please, call me Hotch. Do you have any more questions?”

 “Just one, you said earlier that maintaining a sense of normalcy will prevent us from escalating his plans. What plans exactly?” You were nervous to ask this question, wondering if you really wanted to hear the answer.

 “We don’t know exactly. It is possible the unsub has been trying to work up the courage to talk to you, but since you won’t be doing shows, it is unclear how he would make contact. Reid and the other agents will be looking for anyone who appears to be in a lot of the same places you are. If you notice anyone more than one time in a day, don’t hesitate to-“

“Tell Reid or call one of you. I got it.” You smile at him again. “Thank you again.” He nods as you both exit the room. Spencer isn’t back from picking up clothes yet, so you aren’t sure exactly what to do. Penelope notices you searching the room and waves you over to her. She is talking with Agent Morgan.

 “Y/N! I was just telling my Chocolate Thunder about the song you started earlier. I just need to know, what does this fine specimen inspire you to write?” She sounds so excited you can’t bear to let her down. You study the man in front of you, searching for something to sing. You don’t know why, but there’s a certain sadness in his eye. He hides it well with his masculinity and the clear smirk on his face, but you know he’s been through some shit.

 You don’t want to kill the mood though, so you stick to something a little lighter than past pain. “Well, Pen, I have to say he looks like a heartbreaker.” This only encourages the smirk on his face. “The type to love ‘em and leave ‘em.” You have had a song in the back of your mind for a while so why not break it out now. Penelope shrieks as you start humming, drawing a crowd. Again, you set up your phone to record. The rest of the BAU agents crowd around Morgan’s desk as you start singing.

 “Magic, madness, heaven, sin, saw you there and I thought, oh my god, look at that face. You look like my next mistake.” That draws a few chuckles as you continue humming. More words pop into your head as you think about past relationships and what the media loves to say about celebrities. “Screaming, crying, perfect storms. I can make all the tables turn. Da dada da da, Keep you second guessing like, Oh my god, who is she. I get drunk on jealousy.” You hum some more, really getting into the flow of the song. “Cause darling I’m a nightmare, dressed like a daydream.” The group claps as you end the recording.

 “That was actually pretty impressive.” Agent Morgan smirks at you some more.

 “Well, to be honest I’ve had the melody in my notes for weeks, but I just couldn’t think of the right words.” Yet again, his smirk grows.

 “I guess I’m just that inspirational.” You choke back a laugh as you roll your eyes. You hadn’t realized the size of the crowd you had garnered. You can’t help but knock him down a few pegs.

 “You know what, I changed my mind. Agent Morgan’s song would be called I Knew You Were Trouble.” The entire group laughs at that one, but all the sudden you actually have another idea.

Before long, Penelope is asking you what songs you would write about the entire team.

 “Start with Hotch!”

 “Well, Hotch is so serious. So it’s kind of hard. His face just screams ‘I’ve been through it and dealt it out’. Maybe something like… your string of lights is still bright to see oh, who you are is not what you did, you’re still an innocent.” Even as you half sing it, the one line feels like it could lead somewhere big. It’s not quite right, but it’s a start.

 “That’s so cool. Do me next! And please, just call me Emily.” You nod at her as you think back over your previous interactions.

 “Alright, don’t get mad but something just popped into my head and I can’t un-hear it. They say I did something bad, then why’s it feel so good. Most fun I ever had, and I’d do it over and over and over again if I could.” The smile on her face told you everything you needed to know, but so did JJ.

 “You absolutely nailed it. That is Emily to a tee.” JJ chimed in. “I’m kind of scared to see what you can come up with for me!” Your head is swimming with lyrics and melodies, but it has been so long since you’ve had this much fun writing music with a group of people. It’s become such a solo activity for you, but these people just have so many stories to tell.

 “Okay, let me think.” You pause as you observe JJ. You can tell that she is such a sweetheart from the few hours you’ve known her, but you know you would be intimidated if you went to high school with her. “Sorry to be blunt but, you’re so gorgeous, I can’t say anything to your face. Cause look at your face.”

 “Why thank you!” JJ smiles as you defend the lyric choice.

 “I know you are so sweet and I of course don’t mean to say you are just a pretty face, but you really do have a pretty face.” The group chuckles again and nods in agreement. “Oh, wait! I’ve got another one. You took a Polaroid of us, then discovered, the rest of the world was black and white. But we were in screaming color.” That one came out of nowhere, but it felt right.

 “Beautiful. Okay, okay! Rossi’s turn!” Penelope says right as the man walks out of his office.

 “My turn for what?” He looks skeptical of the group, but in a loving way.

 “Y/N is coming up with song ideas for everyone! She just did Morgan, Hotch, Emily, and JJ! She did mine earlier. So it’s your turn!”

 “Well then by all means, be my guest.” You close your eyes as you think through the words swimming in your head.

 “While, Rossi, you have a kind aura. You seem like a parent to this group of rowdy children. Reminds me of my dad.” Again, the group laughs. You begin humming, lightly patting the desk in front of you as you think back on memories of your own parents. “I don’t know why all the trees change in the fall, but I know you’re not scared of anything at all. Don’t know if Snow White’s house is near or far away, but I know I had the best day with you today.” This tune was softer than the rest, more emotional. Everyone stops laughing as they listen to the soft melody you created.

 “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to kill the mood.” You feel slightly awkward with the new found silence.

 “Please, bella, that was beautiful. You really know how to read people.” Rossi hugs you as you blush, thanking him for the compliment.

 “That only leaves the resident genius. What would you write about Reid?” JJ poses the question and suddenly all eyes are on you. In all the commotion with the other songs, you didn’t notice Spencer exit the elevator. He walked in soon enough to hear the question. Deciding not to interrupt the conversation, he hangs back to listen to your answer.

 You can feel the blush heating up your face, subconsciously hugging the sweatshirt he gave you to wear earlier. After all the short melodies and lyrics you’ve come up with, you are way too tired to put your feelings toward Spencer into words.

 “I’ll be honest, it’s been in my head all night.” You begin to hum, knowing this would be a song about how you felt when you first saw him backstage, to when you spoke to him in the hospital room and all the little moments since then. “Your eyes whispered have we met…” you fill in for lyrics you’ve yet to write by humming. “All I can say is it was enchanting to meet you.”

 “That was beautiful.” Spencer says from behind you. You jump in surprise, nearly falling out of your chair. You didn’t even realize he was in the room.

 He looks sheepish as he apologizes for scaring you. “Are you ready to go?” He asks, reaching out a hand to help you up. The rest of the profilers share a knowing look as you rise from your seated position. They all wish you a goodnight as you and Spencer enter the elevator to head to your hotel. The ride to the parking garage is quiet. You keep humming that same melody, looking for the right words to fill in the blanks.

 Spencer leads you to another black SUV opening the passenger side door for you to get in the car. He tosses his bag in the back before getting in and starting the drive.

 “Penelope said it was my turn, did you do songs for everyone?” Spencer beaks the silence. You turn in your seat to look at him before responding.

 “Kind of. Mostly just ideas of songs. Morgan’s was the most put together, only because it was a song I already started. I recorded the whole thing though. That way I won’t forget any ideas. I can play it for you when we actually start to write some music!” You are honestly surprised by the range of ideas you have.

 “Wh-what? You actually want me to help you write songs? I th-though that was just a cover.” All of the sudden Spencer seems nervous and shy. You put the ideas swimming through your head on pause so you can devote all your attention to him.

 “Spencer, don’t worry about it. You don’t have to come up with any profound lyrics or brand new chord progressions. But, since we are going to be spending a lot of time together, you do have to talk to me. Otherwise it would just be weird.” You try to lighten the mood. You can tell by the way he relaxed his shoulders it worked a little. He nods in agreement as he parks the SUV in the garage dedicated to the hotel you are staying in. You take the elevator straight up to the 11th floor. It’s honestly reassuring to be able to lead him somewhere after everything that happened in the past few hours.

 You dig around in your bag- that somehow followed you on your journey from the arena to the hospital to the FBI building and now back to your hotel- to find the room key. No matter what you try, you can’t seem to slide the key card into the slot in the right way. Every time you try, the little light glows red before beeping indicating the door is still locked. After the fifth try, you are about ready to scream.  

 Suddenly, you can feel the heat from Spencer’s body as he slides up behind you to take the room key. He slides the card into the door, wiggles it around, and then slides it back out. To your surprise, the light glows green and the door unlocks. You must be exhausted to be this shocked at the fact he opened the door. You can’t even seem to force your feet to move. You just stand there like a fool, mouth agape.

 “Why?” Spencer turns to look at you with a confused expression. “Why couldn’t I… How did you…?” You just point to the door. He places his hand on the small of your back, guiding you into the room. He places his bag just inside the door before he turns around to close the door and lock the deadbolt.

 Even after he led you into the room, you turned around so you could keep staring at the door. You don’t even realize you started crying. Spencer guides you to the bed and tucks you into the blankets. You know that you are going to wake up in an hour because you never sleep in pants, but you just don’t have the energy to fight him on it. He turns off the lamp, but before he walks away, you grab his arm.

 “Can you stay?” You have never heard yourself sound so frail. You squeeze your eyes shut, willing the tears to stop. Spencer looks conflicted, but ultimately sits down next to you, his back against the headboard. You lay next to him in the dark, not quite touching. Once your breathe calms enough that you can talk without bursting into tears, you ask “how do you do it?”

 “Do what?” You smile at the sound of genuine concern in his voice.

 “How do you deal with this kind of stuff all the time? I feel like I’m falling apart. I want to be strong about it, so I can help. But then all of the sudden I can’t keep it in anymore. I just… how do you make it seem so easy?” You feel sniffly again, but you try to focus on your breathing.

 “It’s not easy. I hope it never becomes easy. It’s gotten easier, of course, but the minute I stop feeling everything is the moment I let them win. To feel pain in situations like this is human. Somebody wise once told me our best defense is our ability to empathize. It’s a completely natural reaction to experiencing something so traumatic. 70% of adults in the U.S. have experienced some type of traumatic event at least once in their lives. That's 223.4 million people. It would be...” He trailed off.

 “It would be what?” You angled your head up to look at him even though you couldn’t see him in the dark.

 “Oh, it’s nothing. I tend to ramble. I’m sorry.” He sounded so dejected, you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching for his hand. You had to shift on the bed a bit to reach his arm, so you ended up leaning your cheek against his thigh, tossing your arm over his lap in a sort of make shift hug.

 “I like it. It’s calming… and informative.” You couldn’t help but smile into his leg. “People who complain are just jealous.” That actually makes him laugh, but it doesn’t sound like a happy kind of laugh. More like a self-deprecating one. “I’m serious. You are clearly smarter than everyone else is, and you are sneaky attractive. There is a lot to be jealous about.” You dig deeper into his lap as you squeeze his hand in yours. The last thing you remember before falling asleep is the feeling of Spencer running his free hand through your hair.

--

You wake up slowly, eyes adjusting to the dark. You can just make out the numbers on the bedside clock to be 4:37. You must have fallen asleep talking to Spencer. Your head was still resting on his lap, his hand in your hair. You untangle yourself from the sheets to rid yourself of the extra layers that woke you up. It takes a few minutes of digging around in the dark to find one of the t-shirts you normally sleep in. In that amount of time, Spencer, still sleeping, rearranged himself to be laying on the bed rather than leaning against the headboard. You stopped for a minute to observe his sleeping form. He looks so at peace compared to the furrow of his brow and the glint in his eye that normally mean he’s thinking too hard.

 As soon as you lay back down in the bed, Spencer gravitates toward you. Before long, your head is resting on his chest, his arms wrapped around you. You breathe in the scent of vanilla and new books; the rhythmic pattern of his chest rising and falling lulls you back to sleep.

Part 2

tag list:

@mac99martin

[tryingmydarndest]

Thank You (Luka Couffaine x Reader)

Summary (Part 1/probably 3): The author goes on a bit of a tangent about how Y/N goes on a bit of a tangent about Viperion. Who may just have a little, big ol' crush on them?

Tags: -not enough actual relationship -fluff -but like, a weird sprinkling of angst that I didn't plan on right at the end???

Word count: 1.6k

A/N: Inspired by this fic by @seriously-sirius-black <3. Luka? OOC? Idk, probably, I don’t write fanfic. But I am actually kinda proud of how well Alya turned out. Writing this made me realize how much of a mom friend I apparently headcanon her as. I wrote this gender-and-as-everything-else-neutral as I can make it (lemme know if you see ways I can improve, tho idk how much more fanfic I'll even be writing). Also, I freakin' RAMBLE and overuse italics, but ya get what ya get and ya don't gotta fret. Ooh, important note for future parts (if i write them) - this is a kinda!au where the miraculous users keep their miraculous. also if I had a nickel for every time I get awkwardly specific about the placement of both of a character’s hands I’d have TWO nickels. Happy reading!! <3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

Part I - Paris's Cutiest Heroes

The look currently on Marinette’s face as she sputtered out a response was priceless, “Cat Noir? Cat Noir!? What makes you think I’d find Cat Noir attractive at all? And- and- HIM- the cutest superhero! Ridiculous!”

“Utterly ridiculous?”

“Nice one, Alya”

“Thank you so much, Y/N,” you gave Alya a high five on your way to your seat next to Juleka and Rose on the couch facing Marinette and Alya. A sunny Friday after school was the perfect place for Kitty Section and their entourage to hang out. Unfortunately without Ivan and Mylène, seeing as their anniversary called for a private celebration. After pushing a couple couches onto the deck of The Liberty, Alya had predictably started talking about Paris's resident hero team. Today, she chose to ask everyone who they deemed the cutest, and she made sure to jump on Marinette's... interesting response, “And girl, he has the same silky golden hair and dreamy emerald eyes as Adrien Agreste. What’s utterly ridiculous is you freaking out and dodging every time we bring up superheroes!”

The designated snack-boy, Luka, walked out precariously carrying three bowls of goodies for everyone, “Alright, I got more popcorn. Sorry, but looks like we’re out of cheese flavoring, Y/N”

“Oh... that’s fine. I honestly wasn’t expecting it since I forgot to ask,” your free hand not reaching for the bowl rubbed the back of your neck, “but thanks for remembering.”

“Oh, um yeah- Always," is it creepy to remember something so specific? Someone as nice as Y/N wouldn't be interested in some creep. Ugh. Luka took a seat with his own bowl after passing Alya and Marinette theirs. He ended up next to you on the floor, leaning against the arm of the couch, dangerously close to touching your legs.

Rose reached for the popcorn as she interjected, “You know, Alya does have a point. So Marinette, why don’t you just tell us who you think the cutest superhero is, if you don’t like us guessing?”

Somehow Marinette’s face went even paler as she spoke, “What- I mean, I don’t- I haven’t thought- Wha- what about Y/N? Why aren’t you interrogating them?”

Alya crossed her arms, “Because Y/N says the same thing about the same hero every day. Just watch. Ahem, Y/N, care to weigh in on the cuteness level of our lovely Parisian superheroes?”

You looked up from the bowl you had stolen back from Rose with wide eyes, "Hey! Okay, no, that is not fair! Besides, what is our criteria for 'cute'? I mean... Are we going just by physical characteristics? Is costume a factor? What about the animal they're representing, could our opinion of that make this whole thing unfair? And cuteness is so subjective anyway... Why are we even reducing these amazing and honorable superheroes to just their looks? I mean we could be talking about skill, or their powers or power lev-"

"-And your answer would be exactly the same. Seriously, are you done trying- and might I add, failing- to talk yourself out of this one yet? Or should I just read the article you wrote for the Ladyblog?"

"You said you deleted that!"

Luka had perked his head up at your initial fumbling response and turned to you when he spoke, "You wrote an article? That's pretty cool."

You rubbed your face to try and distract yourself from the burning embarrassment, "Umm, yeah. But it was terrible and extremely not. worth. publishing." You hoped the glare you sent the girl in question was enough to scare her into deleting it on the spot, or to at least lie about it, "So Alya kindly deleted it, right?"

Sitting up with a smug look and crossed arms severely lowered your faith that she'd keep quiet. "A good journalist archives everything. Especially something as juicy as one of her besties going on for five thousand words about how dreamy the great Viperion is," dramatically fake-fainting into Marinette's lap, Alya could barely finish before bursting out in laughter. Of course, quickly followed by the others joining in to varying degrees. Juleka and Rose happily giggled to themselves, Marinette looked more relieved that the heat was off her, and Luka seemed to be shocked, or maybe just holding back to see how you were taking this.

Horribly. Horribly embarrassed would describe how you were taking this conversation. You sat there stock-still as you hoped that none of the others could hear your heart's desperate attempts to pound its way out of your chest. That's certainly all you could hear, at least until Alya's voice brought you out of it, "Hey, it's fine," she made her way over to sit next to you as she continued, "We all have our little hero crushes. That's why I bring it up all the time, to show you that it's totally normal! I mean, we all know how I could go on about Carapace for days," Alya gestured for the others to continue, and used her other hand to try and comfort you.

"Well, I find Ladybug to be just absolutely adorable and so kind.... oh it just makes me so happy knowing she's keeping all of Paris safe," Rose added softly.

Juleka brushed a strand of hair aside as she spoke, "Rena Rouge is super mysterious, pretty rad in my opinion."

Alya was rubbing your back like the mom friend she is to try and help encourage you, "See? Super normal, so go ahead and release all this pent up Viperion energy that I know you have. Maybe it'll encourage Marinette here to finally join in the fun!" Alya stuck her tongue out at her best friend, who responded promptly by smashing her face into a pillow.

You just sighed, "I mean- it’s- it can't just-'' were you supposed to just get over it all just like that? Well, at least the embarrassment was wearing off, maybe you could just entertain her for a bit, "Well- um, you see.... HisHairJustLooksReallySoftAnd- you know what. Nope. Can't do anymore of this. Yep- that's all you're getting out of me!" This time when everyone started giggling, you were able to comfortably join them. It was a nice feeling.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A nice evening chilling out with your friends was always welcome, especially with the rising number of akumatizations making that less possible. But the night had come to a close. Alya and Marinette went home, Juleka was walking Rose back herself, and Luka and you had volunteered to clean up. Luka stopped drying the cup in his hand for a minute as he looked at you, “Um, I know it might not be my place, but I want you to know that you don’t have to be embarrassed about the whole... Viperion thing.” God, how am I supposed to take the news that MY crush has a crush on.... Sort of me? Am I supposed to count it as me at all?

“Oh, um. Yeah, thanks. I think I’m over the embarrassment now that it’s out. I don’t know, it’s just that a lot of people think it’s weird since he’s kind of a new hero,” how are you supposed to explain this to him? That you kept such a non-issue secret from him, especially without getting suspiciously defensive about it. “And then people use that to try and say that I only like him for his looks..... And that’s not it! I don’t know, it’s kind of.... A lot? To explain, that is.” This was not going well.

“Oh... Well, what is it? That you like about him, I guess.”

This was so not going well. But he was waiting for a response so... “Uh, well I guess it did kinda start..... that way.... but then I started doing research. I learned about his power and saw videos of his fights. He’s really good! Especially for being so new, which kinda goes into why his power makes me like him so much.” Shit. Rambling, I’m just talking and talking and I need to stop. But how am I supposed to change the subject now? And now Luka’s sitting down, and he seems so invested. Why does this have to happen to me?

“What do you mean by that?”

Luka’s voice kindly shuts your little thought-spiral in its tracks. What were you saying? Oh, Viperion’s powers! You can talk about this, you know this. Just keep talking, at least he seems interested in it, “Well, you know how he can go back and redo the last couple of minutes?” Luka nodded, “Well, we always see the time that worked out. Us civilians get to keep going from the one time it all went right. Just imagine all the times he failed, all the times he couldn’t get it right. It could be dozens, maybe even hundreds of times! He must get so discouraged at some point, I mean I know I would.... I guess I didn’t really think about it at first, but.... but, I doubt I could keep that determination, and I’m so glad Paris has a hero who can, and does.”

Silence. Why was it so quiet? Oh no, he thinks I’m weird. He must think-

“All of this from ‘his hair looks soft’?”

“Hey! You can’t tell me not to be embarrassed, then make fun of me! That’s against the rules!”

Luka chuckled as he said, “Against what rules, exactly?”

“The Rules Of Best Friendship, duh!”

“And who exactly said you were my best friend?”

“Well... your loss, I guess. Now you won’t get an invitation when I plan Rose and Juleka’s wedding,” you brushed off his offended glare as you took the seat next to him.

“She’s my sister.”

“She’d take my side.”

I’d take your side, too. I will always take your side. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

A/N the sequel: I am super bad at finishing things, but I really wanna keep motivated to finish this (like I have a full, probably 3 part, plan for this). If you guys want to help, shoot me a message and I'll send you a link to the google doc I'm writing this on. Feel free to leave a little comment (pls be kind, obviously) and see my writing process! Idk, would any of you guys be interested in that? Would you just get annoyed at having already read the thing before I post it?

[let-them-read-fics]

Yours Truly (Pt. 2)

Requested By: Some of you!

Pairing: Jisoo x Fem!Reader

AU: College

Word Count: Part 1 -> 9,786 // Part 2 -> 7,433

Warnings / Misc. -- Angst, Pining, Fluff

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Here's the second and final part of the imagine, gang. I hope you enjoy the adventures I wrote for you! Let me know about your fav part(s)!

♡ Happy Reading ♡

Part 1 -- Click Here

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

5.) Epiphanies

A Week Later

"Yuqi, why the hell did you drag me here? I'd so much rather be writing…" you shove your hands further into the pockets of your hoodie and look at her with a scowl. Rows of people fill the bleachers around you, everyone excited for the football game that's scheduled to start soon. Happy couples sit together all around the stadium, and the sight only works to remind you of how weird things are with Jisoo right now.

"One: it's a Friday night and you need to let loose, and two: I wanted to come, so you have to tag along by default. The rules of friendship are very simple, Y/N," she trails off, tilting her head at you with a smile. 

"Well I am gonna go get some food," you imitate her, "Do you want anything?" You stand from the bench and look down at her, noticing how her permed hair sticks up in a few different places. You smooth it out for her as she answers, "Nachos, please." 

"Alright, dork. I'm sure the line's kinda long, but come look for me if I'm not back in 20." She pats your butt as you leave, and you just shake your head with a smile. 

"--I know! Did you hear about Lee's new girlfriend? I heard she got in a fight with his ex last ni--"

"I'm fucking starving bro."

"Yeah, they totally hooked up at Jackson's party!"

Various conversations work their way to your ears as you walk towards the back of the line, but you attempt to not get too invested in the gossip. As welcoming as your school tends to be, even it has its fair share of scandals and drama. You've never been one to care about rumors though, and you don't plan to start now.

"I heard that Jisoo likes someone." 

Funny how plans can change in an instant, don't you think? 

You can't find it in yourself to ignore the childish desire to eavesdrop, so you listen in as the line slowly shifts forward with each new customer served, doing your best to be inconspicuous. 

"Supposedly she's been into them for a while but they don't know about it. I guess Lisa is planning to get them together tonight or something, I don't know." You recognize the brunette speaking as Seulgi, a dance major that you share a couple classes with. She's talking to Yeri, whom you've seen a few times in passing. 

That must be why she was defensive about the kiss; she has feelings for someone else. 

"Ooh, that'll be interesting. I can't say that I'm not disappointed, though; now Jisoo's gonna be off the market." The shorter girl frowns, basically reading your mind with her statement. You've never fooled yourself into believing you have a chance with Jisoo, but knowing that she'll be whisked away by some lucky classmate of yours definitely isn't an easy pill to swallow. 

You pass the remaining wait time by imagining who that person may be. Jisoo has a lot of friends, but you've never seen her around campus with any particular love interest; she always puts her studies first, deciding that her education is far more important than any potential relationship.

You remain lost in your thoughts until it's your turn to order.

"Hey Y/N, what can I get for you?" The cashier greets, resetting the register as she grins at you. 

"Hi Yeji," you smile back, happy to see your old friend again after what feels like forever. Your busy schedules have kept you from hanging out much lately, but seeing her now is something you're grateful for. "I'll take two waters, a medium nacho, and 1 hot dog, please." 

"You want everything on it?" She asks in reference to your last request, assuming you still stick with the order you used to go with in your childhood. 

"You know it. And make sure to--"

"--spread the toppings out well. I remember, girl." She says with a wink, turning around to get started on your order. The familiar interaction warms your heart, aided by the idea that some things never change. After she packages your things up in a convenient little container, you thank her and pay, walking away with a promise to meet up at the school's café next week.

About halfway back to your seat, something unexpected happens.

"Rosie, we can't buy out the whole place. This is the 4th trip we've taken back here and the game hasn't even started yet!" You freeze as you round the corner, almost dropping your food as Jisoo's low voice sounds off nearby. 

"Unnie, I didn't even get to eat much of the other stuff at all! Lisa and Jennie stole it and shared it with everyone else," the artist pouts, rolling her hands into fists at her sides like a toddler. 

"Fine. But this is the last trip I'm taking." She warns, rolling her eyes when the Australian attacks her with a flurry of kisses. "Yah! Let's go before we miss something." She says, pushing her off of her with a smile on her face. 

Even her voice makes your heart ache, and it reminds you of what her kiss felt like against your lips. It was short, no doubt, and barely there; but the sparks remain, waiting to be reignited anytime she's around. Maybe you're just destined to pine.

----

"There you are! I was literally about to go steal some food from Shuhua because you were taking so long." 

"Yeah, yeah," you say, sitting down beside Yuqi with the cardboard box in your hands. "You're lucky I love you enough to pay for this. Now I'll have to survive on 3 grains of rice and ramen for the next few weeks." 

"Oh, the struggles of being a broke college student." She says woefully, clutching her hands together in front of her chest to add to the effect. 

"Precisely," you agree, scooting closer to offer her some nachos. When she tries to greedily take the whole tray of them, you're quick to stop her. 

"Ah, ah, ah," you warn, pulling her wrist back down. "We're sharing, chica." She huffs, but eventually settles down and decides to shove her face full instead of protesting anymore. 

Now, with your best friend happily eating, you relax and begin to prepare yourself for the match. 

--

"LET'S GO!" You shout with Yuqi, chanting together as your school's anthem echoes throughout the stadium. The rival team has been behind the entire game, but they closed the gap in the last few minutes and now it's neck and neck. Your band plays loudly to encourage your team, and it seems to be working; they manage to repeatedly hold the others off and keep them from scoring. 

It's the start of the fourth quarter now -- the home stretch. With their spirits still high, your team continues to keep victory out of their opponents hands. The black paint underneath their eyes is really streaked now, showing all the effort and sweat that they've put into the game so far. A beautiful sunset just previously gave way to a rapidly darkening evening sky, allowing some stars to peek out now.

"My high school team sucked; this is epic!" Yuqi says, making you laugh. You tear your eyes away from the heated game to say something to her, but all thoughts soon disappear from your mind and you stop mid-sentence. 

She notices your sudden silence and looks at you, only realizing what's happening once she follows your line of sight. Jeong is standing against the metal fence that borders the track, mingling with everyone at the bottom of the bleachers. That doesn't bother you, but what you see next certainly does; you spot Jisoo beside him, giggling at something he said as he tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. 

"Oh shit," Yuqi breathes out, fully grasping the weight of the situation now. She doesn't even attempt to give him the benefit of the doubt, because he knows how in love you are with Jisoo and yet there he is, flirting away. He's the only other person besides Yuqi who knows of your feelings for the brunette, and you really trusted him with it. Clearly that was a mistake. You blink a few times and set your jaw, quickly looking away as he moves closer to whisper something in her ear over the noise of the crowd. 

"I'm gonna head out to the car. Just let me know who wins," you mumble, brushing past her on your way toward the exit. You know there's no way you'd be able to focus on the game anymore after seeing that, so going is your best option. She catches your arm before you can slip away, and says, "Wait, I'm coming with you. And don't even try to tell me no; I can always watch highlights later. I'm not gonna let you be alone right now." 

Knowing it's pointless to argue anymore, you nod once and wait for her to gather up her trash and coat. "Let's go," she says, taking your hand after tossing her garbage in the can conveniently placed at the end of your row. She squeezes it a few times for reassurance, and a bittersweet smile works onto your lips at the gesture. 

You don't notice how Jisoo's eyes follow you, every fiber of her being yelling at her to go after you. She hates seeing you sad, and although she isn't 100% sure of the reason for it now, all she wants is to cheer you up. 

"So, Jisoo. Do you have any plans after the game?" Jeong smirks, quirking a brow suggestively at his own question. Jisoo grimaces, saying, "Yeah, I do. I have to study." She tries to find you in the crowd again, but it seems that you've already slipped away. 

"We're throwing a party tonight, you should come." He leans a little closer to her, but she takes a step back. The only reason she's even talking to him right now is because Lisa introduced them, and it would be impolite not to. She turns him down, yet again sneaking a glance around the stadium. 

"No wonder Y/N's too chicken to ask you out; you're hard to get, but I don't mind a challenge." Her head whips around at his statement, heart regaining that familiar uptick at the mention of you. "What?" She blinks, not believing her ears. Surely she was just hearing things. 

"I said I don't mind a challenge," his words come out slightly slurred, and the effects of the alcohol he's been drinking are beginning to show themselves in all the wrong ways. The more he talks, the less Jisoo can stand him. "Look, Jeong -- I'm not interested. I'm sure there are other girls here that would love to get to know you, but I'm not one of them. Now, if you'll excuse me," she says, turning her body to the side to maneuver around him and get to the stairs. He lets her go without another word, his pride too bruised to come up with a more fitting response than a muttered insult. 

She makes quick work of getting to the parking lot, where she spots you approaching Yuqi's car, head hanging a bit. Seeing you upset saddens her, and she's determined to find out what's wrong. 

"Y/N! Wait up!" The shout catches your attention, and you slowly spin around. Jisoo begins to jog out to you, and a scoff slips past your lips (though you don't put much effort into stopping it). You're hurt, and half of the reason for your pain is staring right back at you like nothing happened. 

"What do you want, Jisoo?" You sigh, not looking forward to where this conversation will most certainly go.

"I want to talk, Y/N." She's in front of you now, scanning her eyes between yours to gauge your reaction. 

"What is there to say? Just go back to talking to Jeong; you looked like you were enjoying yourself." She can hear the jealousy laced in your tone, and things finally -- finally -- begin to click for her. 

"Is that what this is about?" She asks in reference to your sadness. The question isn't accusatory at all; she's genuinely trying to piece things together. 

A disbelieving laugh leaves you at that. How is she still so oblivious? "Yes, Jisoo, it is. I just had to witness someone who I thought was my friend flirt with my crush. So yeah, that's what this is about." Sensing that she doesn't know what to say, you decide to conclude things for her. This is already pitiful enough, and you'd rather spare the both of you from having the "it's not you, it's me" talk. 

"Look, I get it. You don't like me back, and you were only trying to be friendly by inviting me to the rehearsal that night. Just please, for the both of us, forget it even happened. Forget all of this. It was a mistake, and I won't do it again."

Jisoo hates that you're jumping to conclusions without even knowing her true feelings; you automatically think that she couldn't possibly feel the same, and you use her moment of silence as a form of evidence to prove that. The complete opposite is true, though you'd never give her enough time to straighten out her jumbled thoughts and tell you that. 

She finds her voice when you turn away, and she reaches out to touch your hand. "Stop, you've got it all wrong." Your eyes glance down to your intertwined hands, but you wiggle out of her grip with a heavy sigh. Over your shoulder, you shakily say, "You don't have to pretend for me, Jisoo. I'll be alright. If he makes you happy, then so be it." 

With that, you get in Yuqi's car and tell her to drive away, leaving Jisoo to deal with the sinking feeling in her chest that worsens as the car's tail lights grow dimmer and dimmer in the distance. You're gone, and she really has no idea how to come back from this. 

6.) Broken Hearted

The next few weeks were hell. You avoided Jisoo as much as possible, too embarrassed to face her after what happened and too weak to be close to her again. You'd surely fall even harder if you allowed yourself to grow any closer, so you didn't take the risk. How could you? Falling alone isn't an enjoyable experience, and you've been teetering on the edge of no return ever since that afternoon at the daycare. 

It was hard enough to escape her hold -- her face was everywhere, plastered on ads and bulletin boards all throughout campus, on reminders and sign ups for student council. You used your sick days in order to hide away in your dorm and block out the world, only being comforted by Ryujin when she wasn't busy with her own life or Yuqi when she could spare a few hours. They always made sure to care for you as much as they could, knowing first hand how tough heartbreak can be -- especially with the added stress of schoolwork. 

One person you thought about often was Jeong. Every time he'd cross your mind, dirtying up your brainwaves with the mere notion of himself, you'd grimace. He didn't deserve the attention, and yet you couldn't help but question why he did that to you. He hadn't reached out since that night, likely due to Yuqi giving him a piece of her mind after the game. He made it clear that he wasn't sorry, and that if given the chance, he'd play his cards even better and hopefully score a date with Jisoo. 

Maybe that was the worst part of it all. Hearing that it hadn't just been a stupid thing he did because he was drunk; he realized the weight of his actions, and he'd do it again, over and over, without caring about how you fit into the equation. That football game was simply a turning point, hidden in plain sight as an unassuming night for you to hang out with Yuqi. But you learned more then than you had ever intended to; Jeong's selfish, and he probably never even cared for you in the first place. The idea of that makes you feel dirty -- like you wasted so much of your time with such a horrible person, sticking up for him and defending his name when he wasn't around when he never even deserved that in the first place. You wish you would've known who he really was back then; you would've stayed away. 

Unbeknownst to you, Jisoo was struggling much like you -- minus the whole "betrayed by a best friend" situation. Every time that she showed up in class, she hoped with every piece of herself that you'd walk through the door and grace the room with your presence. You seldom ever did, though -- but when you ran out of free days of absence and were forced to attend class in order to keep your grades up, you never even uttered a word to her. She'd make it a point to ask questions in class, hoping that hearing her voice would bring something out of you, as yours did to her. She longed to talk to you again, if only for a minute; but your resolve remained strong, and her determination grew weaker as the days went by. 

Being the person she is, though, she knew giving up wasn't an option. After a few weeks of that cycle, greeting stands were placed at the front doors of each complex on campus, manned by different members of the council. She came up with a story for the administration on the fly, using her people skills to convince them that it would be good for student morale and getting more people to join clubs. It was a great effort, but she underestimated your avoidance skills; you thwarted her plans again, slipping right through her strategically linked fingers. 

Eventually, she lost hope. She exhausted every option she knew to try, and the girls ran out of new ones as well. Seeing their unnie so upset saddened them, and they did all they could to cheer her up in any and every way they knew how. 

7.) Premiere Night

"Y/N, get up. You're gonna shower and get dressed if I have to force you to do it myself." Yuqi commands, blasting into your room and flipping on the overhead light that shines far too bright for your liking. 

"Mmm," you groan in protest, not even bothering to roll over. 

"I mean it; don't test me, you know I'm true to my word."

"Why, Yuqi?"

"Because we're going to the performance tonight. The big show that everyone has been going on about is premiering, and you're coming with me to see it."

"I can't do that." You say, her words sobering you up from your sleepy stupor.

"I know who the lead is," she informs, already knowing about your reasons for being hesitant, "and that's precisely why we're going. You can't keep living like this, so either go get your girl, or agree to be friends with her and work past what you're dealing with." 

"You sound like a mom at the end of an 80s movie."

"80s movie moms are valid, so I'll take that as a compliment. Now go!" She shouts, shoving you off the bed. You tumble to the floor in a heap of blankets and pillows, still managing to hit your funny bone as you let out a pained groan. 

"Remind me to slap her later, Ryujin." 

"Will do." She salutes, reaching a hand down to help you up. With one last glare at an annoyingly bubbly Yuqi, you head to the bathroom to shower. 

----

"How do I look?" You ask, looking yourself up and down in the skinny mirror attached to the wall. 

"Is it gay if I say I'd ask you out?" Yuqi asks with a smile, fanning herself animatedly when you strike a pose. 

"Very much so, yes." 

"Well, hand me the rainbow suspenders, then." 

You push her over with a laugh -- the first real one you've shared in a while -- and wrap her in a hug. 

"Thank you, for real. I don't know where I'd be if I didn't have you." You say against her shoulder, pulling back to look at your roommate and add, "Either of you." The three of you settle in for a group hug and tell a few more jokes before Yuqi finally drags you out of the dorm. 

----

"How does it feel to be back in society?" Yuqi whispers, leaning in close to you to read the seat numbers printed on your tickets. 

"As lame as ever." You add, amusingly unenthused. 

"You're never gonna convince Jisoo to date your dumbass with that attitude." She retorts, feeling a little guilty when she sees your expression change upon hearing her name. You're afraid to see where the two of you will stand at the end of the night, so saying it's still a sore subject is the understatement of the year. 

"I'm messing with you, dude. If she doesn't want to be with you, then it's her loss; but I highly doubt that's the case. I've heard she misses you a lot." For once, Yuqi's words are halfway encouraging to hear, and you let out a light smile. 

"Well I'm prepared to worry about that whole situation later. For now, let's find our seats and enjoy the show." Your best friend quickly agrees, and the two of you squeeze through the crowds in the aisles to get to your row. 

----

"Jisoo, I promise you'll do well. You've been practicing for months; you've got this," Soo-hyun says, rubbing his co-lead's back in reassuring circles. The certainty in his deep voice gives Jisoo some semblance of security, and she stands to look at him with one final, nervous sigh. Stage fright has never been this big of an issue for her, but the size of the crowd and the idea that you might be out there scare the hell out of her. She wants you to be there with all of her heart, but she doesn't know if she'll be able to handle watching you walk away again. The past few weeks have been torture, and she misses your presence and witty remarks more than she ever thought possible. 

"Thank you, Soo-hyun. I'll meet you out there in a couple minutes, just let me collect myself."

He nods and says, "Take your time. I'll let Mrs. Choi know," before leaving and shutting the door behind himself. Now alone again, Jisoo digs through her personal bag that lays neatly on the small futon of the dressing room. When her fingers come in contact with that familiar material she's spent hours staring at, she bites the inside of her cheek and unfolds it for the millionth time. Multiple poems and blurbs litter the page, accompanied by cute doodles and cartoons here and there that give it a personal feel. She's spent the time away from you methodically working through the different writings, restraining herself from reading all of them in one setting so that she can have new content from time to time. 

She's down to the last one, now, and a surprising sort of realization hits her when she reads it. It instills within her a sense of determination -- determination to get you back and set things right, one way or another. She makes a plan to find you after the performance.

-- After The Performance -- 

It was even more spectacular than you ever imagined it could be. The school spared no expense in getting the best props, employing the most skilled technicians on hand, and recruiting the best artists that the school had to paint the backdrops. Everyone behind the scenes worked tirelessly to produce the best show possible, and their efforts really paid off. 

And, of course, you can't forget the actors. 

The entire cast was incredible, their talent matching some of the world's most sought-after stars. Every part was played to perfection; even the smaller, supporting roles were acted with passion, really bringing the piece together as a whole. The production left you wanting more, too inspired and awestruck by the amazing performances to be content with just seeing it once. So, after numerous calls for an encore, the cast returned to run through a few of their key scenes. 

---

As the cast takes their final bow, large cannons placed on either side of the stage shoot out bursts of colorful confetti, and you watch it flutter down around them. Some try to catch a piece or two to add to their scrapbooks, wanting to have a trinket from their college years, while others just hug each other and twirl around with content smiles on their faces. The crowd continues its loud cheering, and eventually you find the courage to sneak a glance at Jisoo.

To your surprise, she's looking right back. 

Her eyes hold a mixed softness; she's proud of herself and glad that you came to support her on such a big night, but part of her wants to escape the busyness of it all and tell you everything she's been feeling. She'd be content with looking at you forever, she realizes, as she studies you. You're the true star in her eyes, always shining so bright and making everyone feel at home whenever they're around you. She hopes you know how special you are. 

Mrs. Choi approaches the cast from stage right, gathering their attention to congratulate them and commend them for their performances. Jisoo reluctantly looks away from you, unsure if it's the last time she'll be seeing you tonight. The thought upsets her, but there isn't much she can do about it right now; so, she gives her attention to her professor and flashes that smile that makes everyone weak in the knees. 

You knew it was just a matter of time before she'd be pulled away and immersed in some conversation about the show, but the selfish side of you never wanted her to look away. No matter how confusing things may be because of all of your unresolved issues, she still looks at you like she always had before -- her gaze is kind, albeit bittersweet, but it's full of care. Seeing her like that makes you feel like even more of an asshole than you already do -- maybe you should have just listened to her at the game. Running away was an immature choice, rooted entirely in your own sadness in that moment as you deprived yourself of any explanation she could've offered, though you can't judge yourself too harshly. The situation is complicated, and you still don't know whether to hate yourself for running or go easy on yourself in light of what happened. 

When Yuqi sees you stand up and shuffle towards the end of your row, she sends you a warning look. 

"Dude, I'm not gonna run away. I'm literally just gonna step outside for some fresh air, I promise." She visibly relaxes, no longer having to prepare herself to wrangle you back into the seat. 

"Fine. But if you aren't back in 15 minutes I'm coming to track you down. You really need to talk to her." 

You sigh, nodding in agreement. "I know, trust me. Just let me get my thoughts together first." She sends you off to do just that, but not until the two of you complete the special handshake you made up all those months ago. 

---

Brisk air rushes over your skin in waves the moment you exit the side door of the building, automatically sending goosebumps to raise in its wake. It feels nice, though; it grounds you, and works to cool off your heated skin. The atmosphere inside was thick with the tension you've been feeling ever since what happened that night at the game, and its effects were only heightened by the raw performances of the evening. Passion and longing were the driving factors of the play, ironically, and many of the scenes drew eerie parallels to your current situation. So, it's no wonder that you're thankful to step away from it all for a bit.

You greet a few stray audience members that're puttering around outside as well, opting to walk down a little further away from them and lean against the building. The wall's brick material feels rough against your back, lightly scratching it whenever you shift your weight from one foot to the other. You don't mind it, though; it's oddly nostalgic, somehow. 

When you hear the door open again, you think nothing of it. The metal hinges latch just the same as they had for you, so there's really no reason for you to even look up. However, that all changes when you feel someone's eyes on you.

Unprepared is leaps and bounds away from being a fitting statement to describe how you feel in that moment; Jisoo stands merely 10 feet away from you at most, right next to the stage door that she just came out of. Her hands fiddle with the drawstrings of her costume, seemingly always needing to be occupied when she's nervous or unsure of herself; it's a habit you've picked up on after seeing it so many times. 

The longer you look at her, the more you want to look away; she's so beautiful it hurts, and the silence is eating away at you. You can't blame her, though; neither of you know what to say or do, and the only thing you seem capable of is staring at each other. When you break the intense eye contact you were sharing to turn away, only intending to take a minute to collect yourself, Jisoo is suddenly set in motion. 

She's afraid you'll leave again, and she's prepared to fight even harder for you this time.

I love you as the stars love the night sky

A fateful, cyclic romance

A game of eager greetings and reluctant goodbyes

Those words -- ones that you remember penning one day in class while completely entranced by Jisoo -- roll from her lips effortlessly, as if she had spent time committing them to memory. She had, in fact; whenever days passed without her even catching a glimpse of you, she always found herself unfolding that note again, tracing a finger over the curve of your unique letters as she reread the poem. It always brought her comfort to think that you were in just as deep as her, and a similar sense of hope blossoms in her chest now when she spots an unbelieving smile tug at the corner of your lips as you slowly turn to face her again. 

You're still into her, and she's falling even deeper at the realization. Maybe she didn't lose you after all. 

She takes calculated steps towards you and breathes a sigh of relief when you stay put, not showing any signs of running. The wheels in your head are going into overdrive now, turning and churning as you process her little recital, and she prays with all of her heart that you won't be upset once you put two and two together. 

"How did you…"

"You dropped it one day, and I picked it up. I meant to give it back to you, but I guess I just never got around to it." She feels a little guilty for keeping it as long as she has, but it's served as a way of keeping you close during your time apart. Those bits and pieces of you, scattered around on that page, encapsulated by the annotations and doodles you so kindly left behind, have stayed in her heart. Ever since she discovered it all that time ago, it's never been very far from her; she cherishes it more than you'll ever know. 

"You didn't show it to anyone, right?" Your voice is laced with worry, lowered a bit to keep others from overhearing. 

"No, no! Of course not. I just… kept it for myself. You're really talented; I couldn't stop reading your stuff." 

"Thank, I guess?" You awkwardly chuckle, still a bit rusty on how to interact with her after everything. Plus, to be fair, having your crush read one of the love letters you wrote about her is a bit unheard of. Newfound territory, you think to yourself.

"How long?" You ask after a minute of silence, only realizing how loaded your question is after it slips past your lips, turning into a puff of steam in the chilly atmosphere. "How long have you… felt that way about me?" You quickly add, "Assuming that you feel what the poem says, of course." 

An amused smile tweaks her lips at how cute you are. "I do, Y/N. I always have; ever since that afternoon at the daycare." 

"Really?" The question is quiet, full of childlike disbelief. 

"Really. It was always you." She says it freely now: unafraid.

The sentiment is sweet, but memories of the football game come flooding back and you're reminded that as much as you want to skip this next part, you still have things to discuss. 

"What about Jeong?" 

"What about him?"

"Did you ever like him?"

"No. The girls thought so, but it was just a misunderstanding. That's why Lisa introduced us at the game; she thought I had a crush on him, but I told her that you were always the one I was looking at. I told all of the girls that, after that night." 

Her confession renders you speechless -- only capable of listening and nodding every now and then. She takes advantage of your silence to finally explain herself and tell you everything she's been dying to. 

"I didn't know you felt the same until our talk in the parking lot. I mean, I was hopeful after some of the moments we had, but I didn't know for sure until then. I wanted to beg you to stay and hear me out, but you left before I had the chance."

You blink a few times as the reality of her words begin to sink in. "I had no idea…"

"Yeah, well…" she trails off, unsure of what to say next. She's forgiven you for walking away, knowing you were just hurt, but the whole situation still left a bad taste in her mouth. So much pain could've been avoided for the both of you if you had just listened.

"How did they take it?"

"They yelled at me for waiting so long to tell them, but then they tried to help me get you back. Remember those student council booths?" She leans in a little closer to ask that last line, her lips pulling to the side in that iconic smirk of hers. 

You audibly gasp and point at her animatedly. "I knew that was you!"

"Mhm, pulled some fancy-sounding excuse out of my ass to convince the board, and boom; 20 brand new tables set up the next day. I still can't believe you managed to slip past them, though. I mean, c'mon, have you seen how talkative those kids can be?" 

"Trust me, it wasn't easy," you laugh with her. "I had to sneak to the back entrances like a drug dealer." 

"I can totally see that." 

"I'm dedicated, what can I say?" The stupid hair flip you do makes her laugh even harder, clutching her stomach as those beautiful sounds slip past her lips. 

As your shared laughter eventually turns into soft chuckles, she smiles at you, saying, "I really missed this. I missed you, so so much." 

"I've been a wreck without you, Jisoo. It's honestly embarrassing." 

She looks at you with something new shining in her eyes, and she carefully contemplates what she's about to admit. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Of course." 

"I rarely cry, Y/N, but I did over you. So you have no reason to be embarrassed. It seems like both of us were pretty bad off." She looks down after saying that, scuffing her foot against the concrete of the sidewalk. Being vulnerable isn't usually easy for her, and she never really lets people see that side of her -- not even the girls. She feels like she has to stay strong for them to keep things running smoothly, but she fails to realize how important her own feelings are. You're different, though; she feels like her entire collection of secrets would be safe with you, and you make her feel secure enough to be open like that. 

When she feels you step closer and hook two fingers underneath her chin, her eyes dart up to yours and her heart speeds up. Your other arm hesitantly wraps around her waist, giving her plenty of time to step away and deny you. You've spent so much time convincing yourself that she couldn't possibly want someone like you that you're genuinely surprised when she steps further into your embrace, pulling your arm tighter around herself. 

Her right arm comes to rest loosely on your shoulder as her other hand caresses your forearm, rubbing various patterns against your smooth skin. "I tried so hard to get you to pick up on my flirting," she starts, playing with the baby hairs at the nape of your neck as she holds you close. "Every touch," she runs a finger down your arm, leaving a trail of electricity in its wake. "Every look," she moves her hand from your neck to your cheek, cupping it sweetly as she gazes into your eyes. She strokes your skin with the pad of her thumb, smiling beautifully when she feels you nuzzle into her hold even more. 

"And that kiss…" she says, sounding breathless at the mere thought of it. "I wanted it to last forever." 

"Why didn't you tell me that, then?" You ask, not even a trace of anger in your tone. You're determined to let go of all the hurt and fear that your misunderstandings have caused, opting instead to finally get the answers you've wanted for so long. "After I came back from putting Aera to bed you were just… different. And then when you said it was just a part of the script--"

"I know. I was afraid that if I let myself have you like that -- if I let you in all the way -- there'd be no going back." When she sees the confusion building in your eyes, she continues on. "I don't usually let myself get distracted; I can't afford it. You know how seriously I take my studies." You nod, recalling the numerous times you've found her in the library until it closed, studying hard for the exams everyone knew she'd ace. "But you wiggled your way past every line of defense I ever put up. You became my favorite distraction." A dopey grin tugs at your lips at receiving that title, and you subconsciously hold your head a little higher.

"But I wasn't prepared for that. You make me feel things that I've never felt before, and I really didn't think I could afford to let myself have you. Not fully, anyway. I could deal with a crush; I told myself I could keep you close enough that I wouldn't miss you, but far enough that I could keep myself protected."

"What changed?" You ask, smoothing your hands over the small of her back, feeling the heat radiate from her skin. They've worked their way under the hem of her shirt during your conversation, subconsciously seeking to share her warmth, and Jisoo has been acutely aware of it the entire time. 

"When I saw you walk away like that I didn't know what to do with myself. I've had people leave before, so it's not a new thing; but I never missed them like I've missed you."

A bittersweet, melancholic look settles on your face at that; she deserves every good thing that the world has to offer, so knowing that you played a part in her sadness -- whether it be direct or indirect -- disheartens you a bit. 

"But you're here now, and that's all that matters." She says, leaning her forehead against yours. 

"And I'm not going anywhere," you affirm, holding her even closer than before. She brushes her nose against yours with a quiet sigh, relieved to be in your arms, caught safely in your warm embrace. If falling feels like this, she's more than okay with it. 

"Can I?" You ask, glancing down to the heart shaped pillows you've dreamt of having against yours again. 

She nods, uttering a soft, "Please", as she tilts her head to the side in expectancy. You close the remaining distance, bending your knees slightly to tighten your hold on her waist and pull her flush up against yourself. Both of her arms wrap around your neck now, occasionally coming down to tilt your head and allow her better access, or run her fingers through your hair. It's sensual and meaningful, but an air of urgency hangs in the air, thickening it the longer her lips are on you. Both of you are making up for lost time, so it's no wonder you're so eager. 

She takes your bottom lip between her teeth as she backs you up, pressing you against the brick wall that you had migrated a few steps away from during your conversation. If she were kissing anyone else, perhaps she'd care about the strangers staring, or what they might say; but as she stands here, feeling your hands explore her body in the ways that she's dreamed of and your lips kiss her senseless, that's the furthest thought from her mind. Her hands grab at the collar of your shirt, balling the material up in her palms as she pushes her lips against yours from a new angle. 

When you eventually pull back for air, you can't help but say the phrase that's been sitting on your mind for weeks. "I love you." 

Her heart speeds up to match yours, both of them racing as you look at each other with giant smiles on your faces. "I love you, too. If you hadn't already guessed that," she chuckles, leaning up to kiss you again. This one's more innocent, though -- full of giddiness as you replay each other's declaration in your minds. 

"Y/N L/N IF YOU AREN'T OUT HERE--"

Yuqi bellows loudly, blasting through the side door and out into the chilly night air. The metal smacks against the wall from the force she exerted, and you physically cringe at the sound. Jisoo does the same, quickly pulling away to find out what's going on. 

When Yuqi's line of sight settles on the two of you, her eyebrows raise and a smirk lands on her lips. "Well, well, well. Looks like my work here is done," she says, cocking her head to the side self-assuredly when she sees how swollen both of your lips are and how mussed your clothing is. You send her a look that she registers as "Get lost", and she retreats back into the performance hall with her hands raised in surrender.

"Idiot," you mutter under your breath, shaking your head as you watch the door close behind her, its poor hinges still recovering from her assault. Jisoo's giggle makes you turn back to her, finding a breathtaking smile forming on her lips. "You're so cute," she coos, poking your cheek, "especially when you blush like that." 

You fight the bashfulness that attempts to take over, managing to cock a brow at her and say, "Hey, watch it -- I might not be so kind in my next poem if you don't stop teasing me." 

"Aww, don't be like that, baby." 

She tenses up after realizing she let that pet name slip out at the end, but your smile only widens. 

"Say that again."

"Baby," she drawls in her signature sultry tone, stepping closer to you again. 

"Mmm, I could get used to that." You hum against her lips, pressing yours to them at the end of your statement. 

"Good, because there's more where that came from." 

"Oh yeah?"

"Mhm," she settles into your arms again, looking into your eyes with so much love you nearly swoon. "This is only the beginning for us."