late night pokemon trainer sona thoughts

(Do) have feelings

Yall asked for comfort and comfort you shall get

Part 1 . Part 2

Characters: bright eyes, darlin/tank, sam (mentioned)

Ships: none

Summary: darlin went to visit sam, what they didn't expect is to find a teary eyed bright on the porch and an argument

Notes: comfort, tank is a hero, tank sees themselve in bright, i love writing these two's friendship, they both need a hug,i do too, author relates to both parties, bike ride, bright really wouldn't have minded if they fell off the bike and died

A/N: hope this is as good as the first part, because i wrote that while crying because of what "sam" did, i think it had more emotions poured out on it then this one does, but i like the writing in this one, tell me what you think?

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bright stayed there, tears still flowing down their face but they no effort to wipe them away now, leaving the tracks they leave behind to chill and give them a feel of what they should feel now, cold, they should feel cold, because they don't have feelings for sam to hurt..

And yet here they are crying because he hurt them

Bright stayed there, on the porch paper towls barely hanging on at their relaxed hand, eyes unfocused and listening to the screaming match inside, they huffed a laugh, despite being a part on the argument and cussed out in the middle of it, they didn't know what was it about, now it's about how sam cares for fred and that he would do anything for fred and themselves, they do believe him when says that, he proves it everyday,there wasn't a time they or fred asked for something and they didn't get it (not that bright ever asked for anything), he is a great parental figure(caretaker? He is not exactly their maker), if emotional support wasn't in the list of needs...

They bowed their head,staring the the space between their feet, listening to them argue,, they could hear them clearly as id they're in room with them now, but they focused on it, another habit they did when they were human when their parents argued, in case something happened

They didn't hear the engine that got turned off at the front of the house, nor the steps that followed

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Tank parked their bike, still confused about the yelling they started hearing ever since they got close enough, they thought things between sam and bright had gotten better after they talked to sam about it, and they spotted them, head low arms stretched on their bend knees, they didn't seem to have heard them when they arrived, either that or they did but didn't care enough about it, they walked across the entrance, stopped in front of bright, whose head shot up at the sight of their boots, so it was the former, they gave them a confused smile, one bright eyes looked away from..

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Tank kneeled in front of them, one knee on the stairs, the other they rested their arms on top of, bright returned their eyes on them, now sure they saw their tear filled face and their red eyes,red in all the spots they shouldn't be,

how embarrassing..

"are you ok" they said, gentle, and bright flinched away from them, tears on the edge of becoming a tide, they considered lying to them, saying the loudness caused their ears to hurt and thats why they were crying..

But their eyes... Tank saw right through them

Tears fell header and they took a shaky breath in "I'm just so tired" they whispered,voice tight, any louder and they might sob

Tank took a breath in too, look towards the house behind them, and then back at them, theu patted their shoulder twice and got up "come on"

Bright looked up at them, confused "come where?" but standing and following them anyway

"Somewhere!" they said with a shrug going back to their bike

Bright stood there watching them open their seat and taking out a helmet "here" they handed it over

Bright took it without a word, put it on as tank did the same

Tank hopped on the bike then twisted and looked back at them "hop in, i know a cool place"

And bright did just that

They held tank's shoulders as they sped up through the dark streets, music blasting in their helmet mixed with the sound of the wind rushing past their face, drying their tears and taking away any new ones that came

Street after street, block after block, and then they cut to a forest, tank stopped "we're here"

they both hopped off, and walked for a bit, bright looking at the trees and how beautiful they were, yes sam's cabin was out in woods but this was, another level of woods, trees huge and thick you can barely see the sky..

"And tada" tank said putting no effort on the "tada"

Bright tore their eyes off the giant tree they were looking at and paid attention to what was in front of them and their eyes winded

It was huge, beautiful lake, with the water reflecting small bits of the moon that shined through the trees, surrounded by huge rocks

"come on kid, it ain't gonna be night forever" tank said already climbing the rock to their left, they did the same, having the wolf helping them to the top

They sat, a bit satisfied, looking out the wonderful sight before their eyes, but all that came crashing down when the amusement of those moments faded away

And tank saw that, putting a hand on top of theirs

Bright couldn't help but spill all their feelings righ then and there, how they wish they'd stop doing everything wrong, how they want sam to look at them once, and anything but anger or disappointment, how they are trying their best to makr him proud, and how they know they shouldn't seek his approval but they do, so much, so much that when they don't get it they feel useless, so they just avoid him in general, but there's no way they could do it forever, and how it's a never ending circle of seeking affection by actions, never getting it, and crashing down and doing it all over

By the end of their talk they were sobbing into the wolf's chest as they ran their hand up and down their arm and rocking them back and forth

As bright starts to doze off they hear the shifter whisper "you're enough kid, you don't have try to be anymore"

More tears fell from their eyes as they mumbled "i wish i could believe that" and let themselve fall into the comforting darkness of sleep..

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what're your opinions on how amphibia uses it's "filler" episodes? IMO i think they do a very good job at providing a bit of comfort and downtime between the more plot-heavy episodes, while also providing some character development and prespectives. i think two of my favorite episodes The Ballad of Hopediah Plantar and A Caravan Named Desire are a great example of this; they provide character development for hop pop by giving him more humility

(had to put this in a second ask cause i was reaching the word limit) anyways a bit of an offtopic tangent but its weird for me to use "filler" to refer to western animation, like it does happen but not as much as in anime. id call em "downtime episodes" or something

First a correction here: western animation does not have filler at all, categorically. Filler episodes in anime are specifically episodes in franchises being adapted from ongoing manga that contain anime-original content that the animation studios used to pad for time when they have / are near catching up to the events of the manga. Theyre not 'filler' because they're not forwarding the plot, they're filler because they exist to fill time. I think the misconception of filler as having literally anything to do with the amount of plot in a thing has contributed to some of the absolute worst opinions on stuff.

But anyway I think that it also is doubly not really applicable for amphibia because amphibia was always intended to be a show with an episodic structure and plot crumbs scattered throughout a la gravity falls and adventure time, Braly has said as much in interviews, so i think that making a big distinction between plot episodes and non plot episodes is kind of doing it a big disservice. Nobody ever really calls episodes of adventure time or gravity falls "filler", at least not as far as I've seen. We all understand the non plot episodes to be just, lik, more of the show. The meat of the show, in fact. I think amphibia has done the best job of using this structure since either of those predecessors.

Anyway all that to say I enjoy them the characters in amphibia are fun enough and the humor is often decent enough that I have no qualms about spending time with them even if they're just getting up to some stupid shit or whatever

Love Me The Way I Am- Book 1

Chapter 8

Pairings: Maxwell x Harley (MC), more in future chapters

Book: TRR Book 2

Synopsis- After King Liam proposes to Madeleine, Harley and Maxwell grow closer while they attempt to uncover who’s behind her blackmail. Maxwell is hiding a medical condition he’s kept secret for most of his life. Due to his father constantly berating Maxwell during his youth, he believes no one will ever love him.. until Harley comes along and he dares to hope.

A/N- This somewhat follows along with the events in TRR Book 2. I have removed/added certain events to go along with my story! Harley Hughes is my character who is based loosely off of Riley. The other characters belong to PB.

Warnings- language, drinking, sensuality, some NSFW

18+ only

Word count- 3,180

Catch up here

The royal engagement tour, which was also a front for Liam to initiate new trade agreements, was in full swing. Harley had to admit that she was excited to travel to so many new places, even though she had to deal with Madeleine and the other ladies at court. Penelope was such a weirdo who was way too into her dogs. And Kiara was so stuck up. What kind of person speaks French nonstop to people who don't know French? A snob.

At least she had Maxwell, Drake, Hana, and occasionally Liam. They snuck around Applewood Manor where her “scandal” happened, looking for clues. They actually found an ID badge in the tree outside the window of Harley's room. It belonged to a freelance photographer and it even had her picture on it.. Wow, what an idiot! Harley thought. 

The next step was actually tracking down the photographer. Her name wasn't on the ID badge, but surely she had to be at one of the many events on the engagement tour. Maxwell, Harley, and Bertrand landed at their next destination in Italy and hopped off the plane.

“I'm so tired!” Harley yawned and laid her head against Maxwell's shoulder as they walked along the jet bridge into the airport. “And my butt is numb from sitting for so long. Carry meeeee.”

Maxwell scoffed teasingly, “You think you're the only one with a sore butt? Besides, it's your turn to carry me!”

Harley stopped in front of him, grabbed his legs, and began to carry him piggyback style.

“Holy crap, how are you so strong?” He laughed as he held on to her.

“Years of carrying heavy trays of food, remember! Bertrand grab our bags!” She yelled as she walked through the terminal with Max on her back. Bertrand frowned and shook his head in dismay.

There had been some tension between Max and Harley after she felt like he was hiding something from her, but she couldn't stay mad at him. By the end of the next day they were back to their usual playful selves. Maybe he really was just sick from drinking on an empty stomach. At least that's what she hoped.

The afternoon before the dinner party, Harley and Hana had an appointment at a local boutique in Italy to find a dress. Harley felt bad that the Beaumonts were still buying her clothes, but they insisted. And she had most definitely run out of money not being able to work for months. When they entered the boutique, they were surprised to find Olivia there, being fitted for a glamorous, floor-length red gown.

Olivia smirked haughtily, “Oh great, I thought this was a classy place, but apparently it's just a second rate shop for basic bitches.” Olivia was as fierce as she was gorgeous. She was tall with fiery red hair and if looks could kill, she would be a serial murderer. Honestly Harley wasn't sure that Olivia hadn’t killed anyone before. But like she realized with Drake, Olivia was kind of a softie deep down.

“Apparently you have the wrong address.. If you're looking for a dress to wear to your next seance, the Spirit Halloween Store is two streets down.” Harley flopped down onto the plush white couch in front of her and put her feet up.

Olivia put a hand over her heart feigning offense, “Oh you wound me, you classless whore. Why don't you get caught screwing someone from court again and disappear for another month?”

“You know you just want to see me in my underwear again. I told you before, all you have to do is ask.” Harley blew her a kiss. “Besides, if I left you’d miss me too much. I know you're obsessed with me, you venomous bitch.”

“Jesus, you two!” Hana shook her head as the seamstress working on Olivia’s dress looked between the two of them in horror.

Harley and Olivia had an understanding ever since they found out that they were both being blackmailed. She actually liked Olivia now, and they thoroughly enjoyed insulting one another. 

“Look if you wanted my help picking out a dress, you didn't have to follow me all the way here.” Olivia stepped out of the gown as the seamstress finished pinning her alterations. 

“Aw, Olivia, you do care!”

Olivia scoffed and sorted through the racks of dresses, clad only in her red lacy lingerie. “Here.” She thrust a dress into Harley’s arms. “This one will hide your ugliness the best.” 

“It's red..” Harley put her hand on her chest gasping in mock disbelief, “You want us to match don't you!? Oh my god that is so sweet! I knew we were friends!”

Olivia put her perfectly manicured hands on her hips. “You're delusional. I simply picked the one that'll make you look the least like the greasy barmaid you really are.”

Hana rolled her eyes and scanned the dresses. “I'm going to try on this pink one!” She held it against her with a bright smile. “It's so pretty and sparkly!”

Olivia plopped down on the couch, “Yes it just screams, ‘sidekick to the poor and delusional.’ Perfect for you Hana.”

Harley pretended to pout as she sat beside her, “Olivia you know I get jealous when you talk to other women like that. I thought I was your one and only.”

Hana sighed and went into the dressing room. Olivia lowered her voice. “Listen, I have some information. My sources tell me that the photographer will be attending the party tonight. I don't know why I'm telling you this, but I suppose we are unfortunately in this mess together.”

“Your ‘sources’? How very cloak and dagger.” 

Olivia rolled her eyes and crossed her arms indignantly. “You have no idea what I'm capable of. As the Duchess of Lythikos, I have an army at my command. You don't think I have reliable sources who are willing to do anything for me?”

Harley smiled at her. She loved getting her riled up. “I know, you're very impressive Livvy. And thanks for the info. I'll let you know if I find out anything.”

“Please, like you could find out anything that I hadn't already known days before.”

Harley laughed as she joined Hana in the changing room to try on her dress.

Olivia slipped her tank top, leather pants, and stilettos back on and called out to the seamstress as she headed for the door. “Please make sure it's delivered to my room before 6:00 tonight. And don't forget about the pockets for my concealed knives. Thirteen; exactly where I showed you.”

That night, Harley and Maxwell walked into the glimmering restaurant for the dinner party. It was packed with nobles and several members of the press. Sounds of soft jazz and the hum of conversations and laughter filled the air. Bertrand told Harley that Max went out and got a suit to match her dress. Her heart fluttered when she looked at their reflection in the mirror. They really looked good together- like an actual couple. She wondered if that's why he did it and her heart fluttered again. Maxwell grabbed two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and handed Harley one with a smile. He held his glass out to her in a toast and winked, “Cheers to.. looking damn good tonight in that red dress.” 

Harley smiled but before she could say a word, Penelope ran up and pulled her aside. “Oh Lady Harley, I love your dress, you simply must tell me where you got it!”

Harley gave Maxwell a confused look as she walked away with her. On a normal day, Penelope barely spoke to her. Maybe she’s drunk. At twenty-one, Penelope had been the youngest lady in the group vying to marry Liam. She had an unhealthy obsession with poodles and an overwhelming drive to get married. Those were the only things Harley had ever heard her talk about; Poodles and marriage. Drake had even started calling her ‘Poodle-ope.’

Harley staggered as she tried to keep up with Penelope who was pulling her across the room. “Oh, um I can't honestly remember the name of the place, I can ask Hana if you-”

 “Yes yes, that's fine..” Penelope interrupted, glancing around the room suspiciously. She twirled her long black hair that had been permed into tight ringlets. Harley thought she looked just like a poodle, and knowing Penelope that was probably intentional.  “Look, I have something I need to ask you.”

Harley arched an eyebrow and looked at her questioningly as Penelope led her to a secluded alcove. “Okaaay.”

“You're close with Lord Maxwell, aren't you?” 

“Yes..” 

“Ok good.” Penelope was still looking around the room as if she expected to be ambushed at any moment. She leaned in and giggled, “Ok since we're such good friends, I need you to put in a good word for me! I talked to Madeleine and she thinks we would be a perfect match! I mean, he's what, twenty-three? Surely he's looking for a wife by now.”

Harley nearly choked. “Oh, my..” She wasn't sure how to play this. There was no way in hell Maxwell would ever want to marry Penelope. She was one of the most boring and awkward people Harley had ever met. She pushed out a breath and shook her head. “First of all, he's twenty-six. And second, I uh, don't think you're his type.”

Penelope looked as if she had been slapped. “Not his type?! I am a noble lady from a good house who would serve him and give him plenty of children! What more could he want?!” She closed her eyes and sighed dreamily, “We would have a house full of children and poodles! And besides, at twenty-six he shouldn't be so picky! He’s practically over the hill!”

My god this woman is delusional. “Over the hill?? There’s.. a lot to unpack here, but let me start with the fact that getting married and having tons of babies doesn't sound like something Maxwell would want at all.”

Penelope put her hands on her hips and stared her down. “Harley, I didn't want to believe the rumors about the two of you, but I think this proves it.”

“Hang on, what rumors?” 

“That the two of you are..” She paused and whispered loudly. “sleeping together!” A nearby reporter perked up. Oh, hell no, Harley thought. ‘Poodle-ope’ was not about to cause another scandal for her.

Harley smiled sweetly at the reporter and led Penelope farther away as she spoke quietly. “Look, I don't know where you heard that, but we are not sleeping together.” She smiled and tried not to roll her eyes, “You're totally right, I'm sure he would love to get married and have dozens of babies and poodles and all that shit… I just.. Don't know if you two are right for each other.”

Penelope pouted and crossed her arms. “So what exactly is his type then?”

Oh boy. Harley didn't want to be rude, but she had to snuff out this woman's delusions asap.  “If I had to guess, I'd say someone who's funny, energetic, witty, impulsive, beautiful..” Oh my god I'm such a bitch.

“Oh really?! Someone like YOU!?” Penelope huffed loudly as she stomped past her. Not a minute later she was sitting next to Neville and stroking his arm seductively. “Lord Neville, how do you feel about lots of children?”

Harley shook her head in disbelief as she walked back over to Maxwell who was trying to catch mini quiches in his mouth.

“What was that about?” He looked at her questioningly.

“I honestly don't want to ever think about it again.” Harley popped a quiche in her mouth.

“So, Olivia said the photographer would be here?” Maxwell scanned the room and casually leaned back against the wall.

“That's what she said.. Unless she was just messing with me. Wait, is that her?!” Harley pointed toward the back of the room where a female photographer almost identical to the photo on the badge was standing.

Max enthusiastically high-fived her. “Nice work, secret agent hot stuff! It definitely looks like her!”

Harley pulled him into a secluded corner. “How are we going to get the information out of her? If she knows we’re onto her she might leave! Why didn't we think of a plan?!”

“Don't ask me! You and Bertrand are the brains of this operation!”

Harley chewed on the inside of her cheek while she thought. “Shit. Maybe we can bribe her with money.”

“Ya except Bertrand would never go for that..” He snapped his fingers, “Oh I know! Torture!”

“Maxwell!”

“Sorry, that was extreme. I'm just out of my element here! I'm not a planner!” 

“We need to do something crazy to bring the press together into one place..” Harley looked around for an idea. 

Maxwell thought for a minute and clasped his hands together, beaming. ”Ok, I have an idea! Whatever happens, just roll with it ok?”

Harley chased after him,“Wait Max, what are you talking abou-”

Maxwell ran to the front of the room and grabbed a glass of champagne, tapping it with a knife to signal a toast. The glass shattered all over the floor, but it got everyone's attention anyway. “Oops. Ahem! How is everyone doing tonight?”

The crowd stared at him in confusion and a waiter scurried over to clean up the broken glass.

Max glanced around awkwardly. “Alright then.. I want to make a toast to the lovely Lady Harley Hughes. She came into my life recently, and made me realize that something was missing. Something I didn't know I needed until now.”

Harley looked at him in shock. What is he doing??

Maxwell walked toward her and got down on one knee. Everyone gasped and the press went wild snapping pictures. 

He winked up at Harley and she grabbed his hand to play along. “Maxwell what are you saying?” She gasped with her other hand dramatically over her heart and winked back at him.

“I'm saying that I love..”  Time seemed to stand still as he struggled to finish his train of thought. He looked into her shimmering blue eyes, and for a moment it was as if everyone else disappeared. Maxwell's mind suddenly went blank. His heart was pounding, and he completely forgot about the plan. He was paralyzed by the sudden realization that overtook his entire being. “I love…” You. Oh my god.. 

Maxwell shook his head to clear his thoughts, and physically struggled to stop the all too real confession from pouring out of his mouth. Thankfully a server holding a tray of Panna Cotta passed by, snapping him back to reality and reminding him of his initial plan. He snatched a plate and looked down at it, realizing he had no idea what this even was. Custard? Flan? He shoved a spoonful in his mouth. No, neither of those. The crowd was still hanging on his every word. “I love.. this squishy stuff!” 

Harley clasped her hands together, trying not to laugh, “Clearly a match made in Heaven!”

The crowd groaned and grumbled as they began to disperse. Sure enough the photographer they were looking for was right next to them at the front. 

“Let's get her!” Maxwell yelled.

The photographer looked at them with wide eyes and started running toward the exit.

Harley sighed, “Oh my god, now she knows we're onto her Max!”

“Shit, I didn’t think about that. Come on!” He grabbed her hand as they chased after her.

They ran down the marble stairs and through the crowded lobby nearly knocking over a passing waiter. They were close behind the photographer as she exited the building into the night.

“Fuck, what are we doing?! I feel like I’m on COPS!” Harley panted as she took off her heels and kept running. 

The woman ran into the road, dodging the cars that were honking and speeding past her. 

“Hell no! I'm not getting run over today!” Harley flailed out her arms, skidding to a stop on the curb. 

Maxwell kept going. He dodged multiple passing cars and rolled over the hood of a parked Maserati. When he landed on the other side of the street he looked back at Harley with his mouth agape. “Oh my god, did you see that?! Please tell me someone got that on video!”

“Maxwell! You idiot, you could have been killed!” Harley yelled from across the street after she watched the whole scene in horror. 

“Not with these skills!” Maxwell turned back to where the photographer had been running and followed her into a dark alley. By that time, the traffic had slowed to a stop and Harley ran across the street after them.

They had her cornered. The photographer looked around nervously. “I know who you are.. What are you going to do to me?”

Harley and Maxwell looked at each other. They hadn't planned this far. Harley was starting to feel like a criminal.

“We just want answers.”  Harley slowly walked toward her. “I just need to know who set me up and why.”

The woman glanced around as if she was thinking about running again. The only other way out of the alley was to hop on a dumpster and climb over a barbed wire fence. After a long pause she sighed defeatedly, “Look.. I don't know who it was or why. The name they gave me was ‘Jane Fluffybottom’, and that's a fake name if I've ever heard one.” She pulled out her phone. “The only thing I can give you is the last 4 digits of the credit card they paid with. “

“You're sure that's all you know? Don't make us go bad cop on you.” Maxwell tried and failed to look tough.

She rolled her eyes, “Look, this job isn’t worth whatever mess you two are mixed up in. I don't want any part of it.” The photographer showed them the credit card receipt on her phone with the last 4 digits on it. “Now please, don't either of you ever come near me again or I will call the authorities!”

With that she quickly walked past them, looking back nervously as if she expected them to follow her.

“Well that wasn't so hard!” Maxwell put his hand up for a high-five but Harley just glared at him.

“You ran out into traffic!” 

“I know, but I was just trying to-”

“Maxwell, don't you know how important you are to me? What if something had happened to you?” She started to choke up at the thought. 

He gave her a soft smile and put his arms around her. Even though she was upset, it warmed his heart to hear how much she cared. “I'm sorry. I was just caught up in the moment, I guess. I promise I'll never run out into traffic again.”

“Good.” Harley hugged him tighter. As they walked back to the restaurant side by side, she smiled up at him. “Maybe we can find some traffic cam footage or something because you did look like a total badass.”

“I knew it!” He laughed delightedly.

Bunny band-aid.

Characters: Izuku Midoriya

Overview: You cant seem to catch a break lately and to top it all off you end up getting hurt! Luckily a cute hero is here to help patch you up!

A/n: Me and my friend were talking about dekus red bags that he keeps attached to his hips. She asked what i thought he keeps in them and i said probably first aid stuff and that spiralled into a long conversation about how cute it would be if he had little cartoon/bunny band-aids that he would give to people.

And well- how could I pass that up?

"Why does this always happen to me?" You whined as you hopped around your small apartment, simultaneously pulling up your skirt as you tried to slather your toast with butter.

This morning you had received an angry call from your boss, yelling at you to get in as soon as you could. They were slammed and ,sure, you could imagine that must be stressful for any boss but it feels like your boss in particular was a ticking time bomb.

It was best not to get on his bad side, and so you didn't argue with him about the fact it was suppost to be your one day off.

You also had to ignore all the angry texts from your family for having to cancel on dinner with them yet again. How many times did that make it now? 6? You felt like the worst person ever for letting them down so many times, but your work just kept getting in the way!

You keep telling yourself you'll make it up to them, but you never have the time.

You could feel yourself slowly breaking down but you put on your brave face knowing that you'd only be in more trouble if you showed up at work crying.

You quickly finished your toast and downed your coffee before grabbing your bag and rushing out the door. You ran down the stairs until you reached the street, almost tumbling over a few times.

Your job wasn't too far- if you were quick you could make it in 10 minutes and maybe your boss wouldn't fire you?

So you ran.

You ran all the way down the street, narrowly avoiding other pedestrians and jumping over a few stray cats. You felt like you were running so fast that stopping seemed impossible. Your legs were going faster than you could keep up with. This is the sheer amount power and fear your boss held over you.

What a jerk.

Just as you were running past the park you felt one of your feet get caught on a loose pavement slab. Your eyes went wide as a gasp escaped your lips. Your whole body flew forward and you watched helplessly as the ground beneath you got closer.

You held out your hands and closed your eyes, bracing for the impact. You grunted in pain when your body inevitably hit the hard concrete. You had fallen so hard that your body had even bounced off the ground and skidded to a harsh stop.

That was it.

That was the breaking point. You didn't even have the energy to push yourself up. You lay there, your knees and hands stinging as you let the tears run down your cheeks.

Why was the world so against you lately? Have you done something wrong? Did you really deserve this harsh fate?

Personally, you liked to think you always tried your best. That you gave everything you all and you always went out of your way to help people. Overall, you were a pretty good person.

So why has fate decided to punish you lately?

You forced yourself to push your body up onto your backside and that's when you noticed the contents of your bag had also spilled out onto the ground.

Great…

You sniffled and rubbed your stinging cheek to rid yourself of the tears "Why can't I catch a break…" you muttered solemnly.

Once you had finished your pity party you figured it would be best to push yourself up, but before you could move, the sound of fast paced steps coming in your direction caught your attention.

You saw a boy in a green costume running up to you. When he finally reached you he knelt down, his big eyes filled with worry. He was panting a bit too, showing he must have ran over to you pretty fast.

"Are you ok!? I'm so sorry I couldn't catch you! I saw you fall from across the park and ran as fast as I could." He apologized so sincerely it sounded as if he completely blamed himself for your fall. You were about to say that it was ok but he gasped, successfully cuttinf you off.

"You're bleeding!!" You followed his gaze to your hands and knees.

He was right, You most certainly were bleeding. However, that much was to be expected after such a harsh fall like that. It wasn't a whole lot though, Most of them were just scrapes, but they still stung.

"Hold still! I have some first aid on me. I'll clean and bandage it up for you!" He said, reaching into the red bags strapped to his hips and pulling out a bottle, a cloth, and some bandages.

"You're a hero?" You tilted your head. The costume, plus carrying first aid, made you guess he was. Although you had never seen him before, was he new? You were a pretty big hero fan and you had a feeling you would've remembered someone like him. He smiled softly as he poured the gauze onto the piece of cloth he had.

"Sort of… I'm in training." He paused and looked up into your eyes. "This might hurt a bit, if it hurts too bad just tell me to stop, ok?"

You nodded your head. He was so gentle and reassuring. If he was the future of heroes then it greatly comforted you. The hero society could really use people like him right now. Especially after All Might's retirement.

You hissed in pain when the liquid hit your open wound. Even though you were no longer a little kid it was still one of the worst pains in the world to have to clean up scrapes with that unholy liquid.

It hurt, but didn't want to stop him. He was being so careful and gentle with the way he applied it, it would've been kind of nice if it wasn't burning like a bitch.

"Shouldn't you be focusing on saving people who actually need it right now?" You asked, your voice sounded more bleak and horse than you liked. You could hear the hopelessness in your own voice and you didn't like it. He looked back up at you, that same small smile was still on his lips, had it ever left?

He stared deep into your eyes and it almost made your heart stop for a moment. "What kind of hero would I be if I left a pretty girl crying in the middle of the street?"

"Crying?" You reached up to feel your cheek. You were still crying? You hadn't even noticed. He had been distracting you from all the sadness of your life with just his smile alone. It was incredible…

Wait, did he call you pretty!?

"It must hurt, I know, but don't worry, I'll fix you right up!" He said.

He thought you were crying because of the pain? The pain wasn't so bad, nothing you couldn't handle anyway. These tears were from stress, from holding everything back for so long.

Though you weren't about to tell him that.

You watched him bandage up your hands which seemed to have taken the most damage from the fall. How could you work with bandages all over your hands? You were so going to get fired.

It was kind of sad that despite being hurt, all you could think about was inconveniencing your boss. It was an unhealthy mind set to have.

"What's your name?" His voice broke through your thoughts.

"Oh! Uh- Y/n." You replied shyly, the embarrassment crying in front of him was starting to seep in. You turned your head away when you felt your cheeks heating up. You'd never really been a person to cry in front of people. So this was really embarrassing for you.  

"S-so, what about you? What's the name of my new hero?" You glanced over to him with a lopsided, bashful smile.

You saw him freeze at the sound of being called your hero, his cheeks turning the same shade as yours. Maybe even more so.

"O-oh, It's D-Deku." He stuttered out a reply as he finished wrapping up your hands.

He put the bottle and cloth back into the bags on his hips and pulled out a few bandaids. He took the paper off it and placed them over the scrapes on your knees.

"There! All done!" He pulled back and that's when you noticed the pattern on the bandaid. It had little bunnies on it!

'That's so adorable!' You inwardly squealed. Who would've guessed a hero would be carrying something as cute as this!

It made you gush.

"Thank you so much!" Ever since meeting him you had really perked up. Somehow, he had washed your worries away, maybe all you had really needed was to know that someone cared about you? That you weren't so alone?

Or maybe it was simply because it was the first nice encounter you've had in months! Which was saying a lot since you're legs and hands are currently bleeding.

He soon stood up, offering you a hand and pulling you up too.

"It's nothing! Really! You don't have to thank me!" He waved his hands in front of him shyly. It was like he wasn't used to people wanting to repay him.

Deku grabbed all the items that had fallen out of your bag and brushed the dirt off them before handing them back.

In all honesty, heroes were something a lot of people took for granted, but it was times like these that made you realise they were humans too.

His gesture may have been small but he had still made a big impact on your mood and on your day. You wanted to show your gratitude. After all, he didn't really have to come help you. Hero or not, he still could have walked away or ignored it.

"No! Really! I want to repay you somehow!" He had somehow made you feel the first thread of happiness- or was it hopefulness? That you had felt it for a while. It was so refreshing and he had helped you more than he was probably aware of.

Maybe there was also a small part of you that wanted to selfishly spend more time with him too. He was like a sudden breath of fresh air in your life and you weren't willing to let that go so easily.

"How about I buy you lunch?" You asked with a smile.

You phone began buzzing in your pocket and that's when you remembered you had work!! You pulled out your phone and upon seeing your boss's caller ID you felt your heart freeze. You could only imagine how pissed off he must be right now.

You looked up to see the worried face of your new hero, he must have caught on that something was wrong. Did he really care about you that much? You were nothing more than an acquaintance to him, and yet seeing you frown was clearing upsetting him too.

The world really did need more people like him.

You weren't sure where this sudden boldness had come from but you declined the call, and like that, weight on your shoulder was lifted. You shoved your phone away.

You'd be lying if you said it didn't make you feel a bit special

You'll deal with the consequences later.  

You smiled up at him. "Are you free right now?"

"Actually, I finish my patrol duty in 10 minutes." He replied. "If you don't mind waiting for a bit, then I'd love to get lunch with you!"

You shook your head.

You didn't mind waiting at all. You'd happily wait days, weeks even, to spend more time with your new hero. Something in your heart was telling you to get to know him better- to not let him go so easily.

Maybe fate was finally giving you the break you so desperately wanted?

"Great! Then wait here and I'll be back as soon as I can, ok?" He smiled so brightly you could practically feel the warmth radiating from it.

"It'll be my treat! To make up for not catching you in time!" He declared before running off, not giving you time to fight him on it.

You were supposed to be the one repaying him but it seemed he was now treating you to a meal instead, and you had a feeling that he wasn't going to stand down from it either.

You sighed happily and clutched your bag to your chest as you stared down at the cute bunny band aids that decorated your skin.

"Maybe today will be a good day after all."

Hey you, what’s your dream?

Pairing: platonic!oc x ot7

Details: manager!oc, predebut/idolverse, partial BTS World!verse

Summary: Debut day!

Warnings: This is a fictional story based on real events. The characters presented here are not the same as their real life counterparts. (TW: panic attack, dieting mentions) [Masterlist]

Track 22: Debut!

Started From the Bottom- Drake

“Started from the bottom now we’re here

Started from the bottom now my whole team fuckin’ here.”

Debut Showcase, Gangnam Ilchi Hall-June 12, 2013

“Aviva-yah,” Yoongi called. Aviva looked up with her camera, only to be faced with Yoongi snapping a picture of her with his. He looked down at his camera and grinned. “Looks good.”

Aviva looked him over. “So do you. I really like the skirt.”

Yoongi did a little twirl. “Hip hop!”

“Ah… I’m so nervous, I’m stiff as a board,” Jin muttered.

“Want a massage, hyung?” Jungkook offered. Jin blinked at him.

“Seriously? Yeah, that would be great.” Jin sighed happily as Jungkook massaged his shoulders. Aviva walked over, getting a shot of them. “You’re good at this. How come you don’t do it more often?”

“Cause this is a special occasion,” Jungkook told him. “Don’t get used to it, hyung.”

“…I’ll pay you in food,” Jin offered.

“…I’ll consider it,” Jungkook said. Aviva laughed. They glanced at her.

“Yah, go away, camera-ninja,” Jin said.

The boys preformed Bulletproof Pt. 2, No More Dream, and Like to round it out. In-between changing their outfits, Aviva got a quick word with Yoongi and Hoseok.

“How’s it going out there?” She asked them. Yoongi and Hoseok looked at each other.

“Good~?” Hoseok said.

“Good~” Yoongi agreed. Namjoon stepped up behind them, putting his hands on their shoulders. Hoseok clutched his chest as Yoongi plastered on an overly surprised face.

“What’re you guys doing?” Namjoon asked.

“Talking about how great you guys are,” Aviva told him.

“Yah!” Namjoon flushed. “It’s time to get back on stage!” He pointed his finger in the air. “Let’s go!”

Afterwards, Aviva stood off to the side, watching the boys get interviewed about their first performances.

Yoongi spoke about how they were more authentic than other idol groups doing hip hop. Namjoon spoke about wanting to reach out to teenagers and get them to think about what their dreams were, and wanting to win a Best New Artist Award.

At the end of the night Aviva presented them with a custom-made cake. “Sorry I didn’t bake this one,” she said. “But I saw an ad for this bakery, and I thought it could be cool.”

“It is!” Jimin assured her. “Your cakes are probably the tastiest, but this one is very pretty.” Aviva clenched her fist.

“I’m going to improve my cake decorating skills.”

“Ah, that’s not what I…” Jimin smiled at her determined expression. “Okay, I can’t wait to see what you come up with—shall we eat?”

M!Countdown Debut! June 13th 2013

At their debut M!Countdown stage, Aviva was carrying around her camera again, to get behind the scenes footage.

Joonho and his assistants were working hard to mark sure every item of clothing was perfectly place. Jihye and Eunjung were chatting as they waited for their turn. However, Aviva could see that Eunjung had already gotten to Namjoon earlier this morning with an important addition to his hairstyle.

Aviva laughed, stretching her arm up and tracing the letters RM that had been shaved into the side of his head. “I haven’t seen this yet…”

“What? You don’t like it?” Namjoon said nervously.

“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “It’s just… I wonder what you’ll think about this style when you look back at it. Fashion is so changeable…”

“All the more reason to enjoy it now!” Hoseok said, popping up behind them, wrapping one arm around her shoulders and the other around Namjoon’s back.

“You would say that,” Aviva said, flicking the spiky mask.

He laughed. “You really like this thing, huh?” He struck a dramatic pose. “What I do for the sake of art!” She and Namjoon both laughed along with him.

Jungkook and Jimin walked over. Jimin spotted the camera and swerved slightly to sit on a nearby bench.

“I’m going to practice,” Namjoon said, turning towards the wall and taking a few deep breathes before launching into one of his verses. It was the quick one.

Hoseok mimicked him jokingly. Jungkook watched and then did the same. Hoseok laughed.

Namjoon frowned, pointing at Jungkook. “I hate this kid.”

“No, you don’t, Namjoon-ah,” Aviva said easily.

“If you’re gonna copy me, try and do it properly, at least,” he challenged. Hoseok shrugged. Jungkook tried. “Not similar!”

“He can’t do it so well when he’s under the spotlight like that,” Hoseok told Aviva.

“Well, Namjoon-ah does have his own style of rap,” Aviva thought. “You should rap like yourselves, not like him. That’s what makes you all special.”

“Aw.” Hoseok poked her on the cheek. “Cutie, manager-nim.”

“…Can we move on?” Aviva said. “Your audience doesn’t want to hear about me, they want to hear about you.”

Jimin quickly rapped the verse, blushing when they turned to him.

“Ah, sorry,” Jimin said in English for some reason.

“No, it was cool,” Namjoon told him, patting him on the shoulder. “You’re the coolest.”

Readier, the boys loosened up by seeing who could rap the fastest in English. Then Namjoon moved on to walking through their performance. Aviva could see the maknae line’s eyes glazing over as he spoke. Taehyung spotted her and blew her a kiss. Jimin noticed and laughed quietly. He moved over to her.

“Shouldn’t you be listening to your leader?” Aviva teased.

Jimin grinned sheepishly. “Ah, well… I thought maybe our fans could use an update on what we’re doing? That’s who you’re recording this for, right? Our fans?” He thought. Aviva nodded. “Right now we’re in the waiting room.” Jimin pulled at Jungkook’s arm. “Jungkook-ah.” Jungkook turned around and stepped closer to them. “The camera’s on, see?” Jungkook bent down slightly.

“Yah, you don’t have to bend down,” Aviva said. “I’m not that short…” Jungkook laughed. “What will you do next, Jiminie?”

“Next we will…”

“Lose weight!” Jungkook said. Aviva frowned.

“Eh? Why~”

Jungkook laughed. “Stop with the aegyo, noona, you’re too old for that!” He turned back to Namjoon, walking closer over to him to listen.

“…Jungkookie’s a little grumpy today, isn’t he?” Jimin thought.

“Nervous?” Aviva wondered.

“I am,” Jimin admitted.

“I meant Kook... but, yeah, probably everyone is. I mean, I’m nervous and I’m not even performing!”

Jimin grimaced.

“Namjoon-ah, Jungook-ah, have you changed your socks?” One of the assistants asked. The boys broke up to continue getting ready.

“Well… we’re going to lose weight now, I guess,” Jimin said. “Yes, going to lose weight diligently. So I can show you great abs.” He looked down at himself.

“Your abs are already great,” Aviva told him honestly. Hoseok popped up behind Jimin, his plainer mask hanging over his chin.

“What are you doing?” He wondered.

Jimin blinked at him. “What?”

“Jiminie’s giving the fans an update!” Aviva told Hoseok.

“Right now we’re changing into our cool outfits before rehearsal,” Jimin told her and the camera. He wiggled his many ringed fingers at her.

“Bling~Bling~” Hoseok said. He held up his own gloved hand. “It says Bangtan Sonyeondan on it!”

“They are cool gloves,” Aviva agreed. “But you’re interrupting Jiminie.”

“Yeah, don’t interrupt me while I’m speaking to the camera, hyung!” Jimin said. “I get…” He glanced at Aviva and then looked away from her, staring at his feet. “…Shy.” He laughed nervously.

“Why?” Hoseok wondered. “It’s just Avi-yah.”

“It’s fine.” Aviva switched off her camera. “We can take a break.”

“Thanks, noona.” Jimin smiled at her.

“Cookie?” Yoongi offered, holding a small snack bag out to them.

“Ah, no thanks, hyung,” Jimin said. “I’m still dieting, so…”

Yoongi shrugged, holding it out to Aviva.

She took one. “Thanks.”

“You know, your shyness is cute, but you have to get used to the cameras if we’re going to debut now,” Hoseok said to Jimin.

Jimin frowned. “Yeah, well, how do you suggest I do that, Hobi-hyung?”

“Hmm…” Hoseok grinned. “I dare you to flash your abs to the camera.”

“Eh?” Jimin said. “Why?”

“Why?” Aviva agreed.

“Well, he’s going to be doing it on stage all the time now, so it’d be good practice, right?” He figured.

Jimin’s brow furrowed. “He’s got a point.”

“Yes, but the internet is forever,” Aviva reminded him. “If I post this…”

Jimin let out a breath. “Let’s do it.” He gripped the edge of his shirt. “Film me, noona.”

Soon they moved upstairs to the stage for the rehearsal. She got a shot of them moving up the stairs. Jungkook spotted her and waved.

“Ah, manager-noona, when did you get here?”

The other members shot her peace signs as they passed.

They moved straight from the rehearsal into the pre-recording for No More Dream. Aviva watched from the side and then ran around the corner to meet them as they exited the stage.

Aviva filmed them walking off stage, down the hall. The assistants were waiting with tissues to blot at their sweaty faces.

“This leather…” Namjoon muttered, pulling at his shirt, which was sticking to him with sweat. She switched her camera off, letting it hang off her neck. “Honestly.”

“Bend down.” She motioned at him. He did and she carefully dabbed at his face with a tissue, not wanting to ruin the makeup artist’s hard work. “There’s water and towels in the dressing room.”

“Good,” Yoongi said as he passed her. “It’s hot.”

Aviva froze, spotting Jin crying as he stepped off the stage.

“Oppa…” She frowned, noting one of the other cameramen was following him closer to get a shot. She followed them too. “Yah, give him some space.” The camera man hesitated. Aviva flashed her employee ID, and a glare at him. The camera man waved his hand and retreated out of the room. Jin was surrounded by assistants who were wiping his face and fanning him. Jimin and Namjoon were hovering, watching him concernedly. “Hi, Jinie-oppa. It’s okay to cry, you know.”

“But, I’m the oldest," he choked out. "I'm not supposed to..."

“You may be the oldest, but you also have the most sensitive heart,” she thought. “It’s a curse and a blessing.”

“I need to… get ready… for the… performance.”

She frowned at his ragged breathing.

“Seokjin-oppa.” She leaned up, brushing his hair away from his face. “Can you breath with me? Copy my breathing. Come on, slowly in… and out… good job.”

“Sorry,” he muttered, as his breathing settled.

“Hey, it’s a big moment, it makes sense to have big feelings, you don’t need to apologize, okay?”

“Okay.” He smiled slightly. “Guess I’ll say thank you, then.” He bent and kissed her forehead. “Thank you, manager-nim.”

“You two are being very sweet, but you should know, Avi, that he’s crying because his pants kept falling down,” Namjoon teased.

“Yah!” Jin protested, his face turning pink. Namjoon laughed as Jin got him into a headlock and rubbed roughly at his head.

“Ah, watch it—Eunjung-ssi is going to yell at you!”

“Eh? I thought it was because he made a mistake?” Jimin said to Aviva. Jin glared at him. Jimin patted him on the arm. “Don’t cry, hyung, it makes me want to cry too.”

Jin rejoined the others to do their huddle and cheer before they stepped back out onto stage to preform Bulletproof Pt. 2.

Jin waved at her as he passed. Yoongi gave her two thumbs up. Namjoon flashed her a peace sign.

After the performance, Aviva was waiting for them again near the door.

“We did well!” Jin said, hugging her. She laughed.

“Ah, oppa, I’m filming!”

“Our first broadcast recording!” Jin hugged Hoseok.

“First success!” Hoseok did a double fist pump.

“Oh yeah!” Namjoon echoed him as Jin moved on to hug Yoongi. “We’ll do even better on tomorrow’s stage.”

“We will do better tomorrow,” Jin agreed, though he was more subdued than the other two. He smiled weakly. “I have confidence for tomorrow.” Aviva couldn’t find the words. Instead she reached up and brushed his hair out of his face again.

Music Bank, No More Dream Debut!- June 14th 2013

The next day during rehearsal, Yoongi showed off his shirt with his stage name on it to the camera.

“I’m Suga, you see that?”

Aviva nodded. “Otherwise I wouldn’t know who you are.”

“Yah, you brat, it’s for the dry rehearsal,” he said. “You know that.”

Taehyung laughed behind them. Yoongi made a silly face at him. He laughed harder.

Aviva went out into the seats out a couple rows away from the stage to film their rehearsal.

“Yah, noona, don’t you have confidence in me?” Jimin whined after they finished the rehearsal and gathered back in the dressing room. “I know I made a small mistake with the kick, but I promise I’ll practice—and I always get the jump right every time. Every time!”

Aviva was taking a break from filming to charge her camera.

“Hmm? What do you mean?”

“The part when I jump over Hobi, I saw how nervous you got!”

Aviva blushed slightly. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, Jiminie, I just… you know I worry.”

“Then don’t watch that part, close your eyes,” Yoongi suggested.

She frowned.

“I can’t do that. I have to support you guys, and get behind the scenes footage, and—“

“Okay, okay.” He waved his hand. “It was just a suggestion.”

She chewed at her lip. “I like the thing with the hat though. It’s cute.”

“I’m not sure cute was what Hobi was aiming for, but I’ll take it!” Jimin said.

Aviva got her camera back in time to film Jimin and Yoongi practicing their dance moves. Taehyung joined them.

“We have to do well,” he told Aviva seriously. “There’s only one chance.” She tilted her head.

“One chance for…?”

He blinked at her. “There’s only, one chance~” He started to sing.

She nodded. “One Shot, B.A.P.”

“Ding, ding, ding—correct!”

Meanwhile, Jungkook trying some of Namjoon’s throat spray.

He coughed. “Are you supposed to drink water with this?”

“Hmmm?” Namjoon looked at him sleepily.

Aviva turned to get shots of the other members. Jin spotted her and waved with the sleeves of his leather jacket, which he was wearing backwards. She laughed.

“Why are you being so cute?”

He pouted at her. “Are you suggesting I’m not usually cute?”

“You’re not usually this shy,” she thought.

“Ah, I did a shy introduction, so I’m still shy now,” he explained.

She nodded. “Well, that’s okay, oppa, I like both the shy and confident versions of you,” she said honestly. He blushed. “Where did Kook go? He was just here...” He laughed.

“Ah, yeah, he’s fallen asleep again.”

Jungkook had almost passed out in his chair.

“Drink,” she ordered him, handing him a water bottle as one of the stagehands fanned him.

“What?” He smiled at her, dazed. “Oh, manager-noona, hi.”

She frowned. “You need to eat something, get your blood sugar up.”

“But I’m on a diet~” Jungkook said. “You can’t make me~”

Aviva sighed. “What about some juice?”

He blinked and nodded. “Yes please.”

“I’ll get it for him,” Jin offered, pulling his jacket on the right way around now. Aviva glanced over at Jimin, who was still practicing.

“Get one for Jiminie too, please.”

Jin nodded.

“One juice for the maknae and one for the Bagel Man, got it.”

Aviva squinted after him.

“Why is Jiminie a bagel?”

“It’s a combo between baby face and glamorous body,” Jungkook explained. He smiled. “Namjoon-hyung told me I’ll probably be like that someday.” His brow furrowed. “Hmm, where did Namjoon-hyung go?”

“I’ll look for him.”

She found him sitting on a chair in the hallway, his head in his hands. He looked like The Thinker, except even stiffer than stone. She switched off her camera, having a feeling he wouldn’t want the fans seeing him like this.

“Namjoon-ah…” Aviva punched lightly at his back. “You’re so tense. Come on, man.”

He squinted at her.

“If that’s an attempt at a massage, you’re failing.”

“No, I’m just hitting you.”

“Oh. You’re doing great then.”

She sighed, laying her hands flat and smoothing them over his shoulders, kneading at the tense muscles.

He made a bit of a happy noise.

“Better?” She asked in his ear. He jolted and then stiffened again. “Sorry.” She withdrew from him.

“No! I…” He turned, his face red. “It’s fine. That was… nice. Thanks. You, ah, weren’t filming that, were you?”

She shook her head. “I do still need some more footage though.”

“You’ll find it,” Namjoon said confidently. “You’re good at this.”

“You’re so amazing, Syub Syub,” Hoseok was saying to Yoongi back inside the room. “You actually danced.” Yoongi turned, spotting Aviva with the camera.

“I usually don’t show off my dancing,” he explained to any future viewers.

“You’re so cool,” Hobi praised. Yoongi smiled awkwardly. Hoseok turned to Tae. “V-ssi, you should show us too.”

Taehyung blinked. “Show what?”

Hoseok hummed one line of the song. “That part.”

Tae did a confused little head wiggle for the camera.

It was cute, but awkward.

“The truth is, V-ah doesn’t do that part,” Yoongi told the camera.

“Oh?” Hoseok smirked.

Yoongi squeezed Taehyung’s shoulder.

“You don’t need to know that part. It’s not yours.”

Hoseok shot an apologetic look at Tae, who was frowning, and then attacked him with a hug, biting his shoulder for some reason.

“Ah, hyung, you’re not a vampire!” Tae said, laughing.

“You’re so cute I just wanna eat you up!” Hoseok told him. Taehyung ran away from him, hiding behind Aviva.

“Yah, leave Taehyung-ah alone,” Jin said, stopping his neck stretches to glare at Hoseok.

“Are you okay?” Aviva asked Yoongi as Tae leaned on her. “How’s your shoulder?” He frowned at the camera. “Ah, sorry, I can edit that out.”

“Please do. The shoulder’s fine,” he told her. “Right now, I’m a little nervous for the pre-recording. I feel dazed, but I’m keeping myself on my toes.” Hoseok and Jin popped in and out from behind him making faces. Tae flashed a peace sign in front of the camera. Yoongi completely ignored them. “We’ll work hard. Please watch over us.” He smiled, just a tinge of annoyance on his face.

“But you’ve been great in front of the camera,” she told him. “I really appreciate it, since it gives me more material to pick from… but don’t force yourself, okay?”

“I’m not,” he told her.

“Swag!” Namjoon called out as he passed the camera, ready to preform. Aviva tried not to laugh. Yoongi bowed slightly. Hoseok and Jimin flashed peace signs.

Aviva watched from the side, grinning as girls shrieked at Jimin’s abs reveal, and cheered at Jimin’s leap.

“We finished it!” Namjoon said as he came off stage, smiling in relief.

“Ah, that was scary!” Yoongi said, rubbing his chest.

Jungkook pronounced it, “So-so.”

“The end!” Hoseok said, flashing a peace sign at the camera.

“Hi.” Jin waved shyly. “We did well, I think.”

“The end!” Tae said, flashing a peace sign. Aviva laughed.

“Hobi just did that!”

Tae pouted.

In the dressing room, Aviva looked at Jimin.

“Have you been avoiding me?”

“Not you, necessarily…” He eyed the camera and stepped closer, pointing. “That red light scares me the most. It makes me wonder what I should say.”

“Just be yourself,” Aviva told him. “If I record anything you’re uncomfortable with sharing, I can always edit it out. I promise not to post anything you don’t want me to.”

Jimin smiled, stroking the lens like it was the face of his lover.

“You’re a good girl, huh?”

“I won’t be if you keep touching the lens!”

He laughed.

Across the room, Jin was making faces at Aviva, passing his hand over his face, and changing his expression dramatically. A sleepy Taehyung was sitting next to him as he got his makeup fixed, clearly not amused.

“Wow, I’m so nervous,” Jungkook said as they headed back towards the stage for the live broadcast.

“You got this!” Aviva told him.

During the performance, Aviva was out in the audience again, catching shots of the fans cheering, especially when the boys flashed their abs, and got into their dance solos.

Afterwards, the boys made more faces at her as they came off stage. The photographer had disappeared somewhere, so Aviva was put in charge of taking the after-performance group photos for the fans. Tae and Jimin were reaching across the group to hold hands, as Hoseok bit down on Jimin’s head for some reason.

“Hobi!” Aviva called out to him. “Do I need to get you a teething toy?” The boys laughed, including Hoseok.

“Ah, we are born in the year of the dog, after all! Come play with us!” He walked over and grabbed her hand, waving at one of the assistants. “Hi, hi, noona, can you get a picture of us with our manager too?” He patted Aviva on her head, ignoring her protests. “We won’t post it anywhere, so just stay still and let us commemorate this moment. You’re part of it too, you know.”

(and I'm feeling like) it was only ever you

a little voice fic pairings/characters: bess/samuel, general ensemble, ella the pupper being loved the most warnings: language, excessive sexual tension episode tags: fills in some of many gaps between 1.08 sea change and 1.09 sing what I can’t say cause I got wine drunk instead of finishing this before the finale as planned. +post-finale rating/warnings: explicit. read: resolved sexual tension aka les sexy times.  lyrical title courtesy of: part of me – by the coast (watch their fanvid set to this song and prepare to cry)  notes: so @brilligbraelig told me there was no fluffy fic in the tag, which– sorry. we’ve been in sad time hours for WEEKS and I blame the writers for never giving bess a moment’s peace. I’ve never really been one for cavity-inducing sweetness, not because I don’t love some pure joy, but as a writer I’m always a little more interested in the messier moments that just enough longing brings. if the question is ‘how many times do bess and samuel need to share a bed?’ the answer is yes.   this is for the samuel and bess protection squad on twitter (join us!) for being the coolest group of people ever throughout this wild ride, and also for @missgoalie75 and her love of colton’s bedroom eyes.  p.s: sometimes I ignore capitalization rules at will because of the vibe. 

*

bess is tired.

saint c’s is quiet tonight; al shoos her away from the bar with a stern, surprisingly fatherly firmness and hands her a tray of shots. she blinks at him. there aren’t any parties of four left. he points at samuel, prisha, and benny loitering at the back of the club until she finishes. bess doesn’t follow. al sighs. “go have one with your friends on me, okay kid? i swear, watching you stress out sometimes is gonna give me an ulcer before my next birthday.”  bess stammers a thank you and walks off with the alcohol before he can change his mind. she should apologize, she thinks. he’s been nothing but kind to her despite all the ways in which bess is hardly employee of the month right now. she should start an apology tour at the table, where prisha’s head is thrown back with laughter at something benny is saying, his hands outspread. these people are too good to her and she doesn’t deserve it, sometimes.  samuel notices her first (like always it seems), tracking her progress across the room. he tilts his head, a silent okay? and she moves her mouth in an approximation of a smile. his own lips quirk, like he’s trying to smother a laugh. she should be annoyed; she’s just grateful they aren’t fighting anymore— or worse yet, that it’s weird.  they still haven’t talked about that night. samuel seems perfectly content to pretend it never happened, except for the way he touches her with so much more ease than before— like he no longer has to hesitate before he’s pulling her in, taking her hand, squeezing her shoulder or the bend of her elbow in a way that’s more reassuring than bess can really describe.  maybe there’s a song in there somewhere.  “special delivery,” she announces at the approach. “drink fast, before al regrets giving us these.”  “my man, my man,” benny croons. “we love you boss!” he calls, twisting to find al rolling his eyes from behind the register. the shots clink on the tabletop. bess hesitates, just a second, before leaning in to toast prisha. samuel’s eyes meet hers again over the rim of his glass. she tosses her head back before she can overthink any of it. “anyone want another?”  benny and prisha grin; samuel shakes his head. bess does the mental math back to her last meal. one more certainly wouldn’t tip her over, but she’d be a fool not to recognize her own unsettledness. she springs for second shelf tequila; al smacks her hand away from the limes she’d cut herself not two hours ago.  “no reaching over, you know that.” the closing porter pours and dishes lime and salt with disinterested, immaculate practice. bess presses an extra five into his hand and gets a silent tap on the inside of her wrist in thanks. she’s not normally into the whole process of tequila, but benny enjoys it. something silly in bess hopes that the bursting sting of lime will just wash all her chaos away. by the time she’s tilted her head back down a second time, samuel’s eyes are sliding away. her throat is curiously warmer than liquor normally manages. it feels like she’s caught him at something.  “earth to bess!”  “hmm?”  prisha looks amused, damn her. “you up for it?” “up for what?” benny’s smile is equally conspiratory.  “dancing?” her first instinct is god, no. she and prisha haven’t gone dancing in what feels like years— bess still has a fake ID from the one and only time they snuck into a club at 19 years old, skipping the bar entirely for the pulsing beat of the dance floor. but she deserves this, doesn’t she? after everything? everyone’s looking at her now, probably expecting her to say no (samuel’s definitely expecting her to say no), and maybe bess needs another shot after all because, “sure.” tumbles out of her mouth before she can stop it. prisha and benny high five. samuel’s muted surprise is oddly delightful; bess wants to keep pulling it out of him, suddenly. “you coming too?” she asks. it’s not supposed to be a challenge but he raises one eyebrow as though bess had just asked him to duel. “well i’d be lame if I said no now, wouldn’t i?” that settled, bess excuses herself to grab her things from the back room. when she returns, benny is chatting with their night porter as he divides tips. she has to swallow an anxious lump before she can walk over.  “hey.” “hey.” he returns her tentative smile and she hates herself. “ready to go?” “i’m sorry,” bess blurts. “about the other night. i was so awful to you and you were just—” “bess, hey.” benny’s hands land on her shoulders. “don’t worry about it, okay? i know you have a lot going on right now.” “that’s not an excuse,” she insists. “you’re just being a good friend and a great manager and i shouldn’t have bit your head off for...” for not letting me give up. shame locks the words in her throat. how is it that she was the first person to let go of her own dream? bess has to take a deep breath. “i’m just really sorry.” he just looks at her for a long moment.  “if i forgive you,” benny begins gently, “will you forgive yourself?” the question feels like a sucker punch.  “cause i do, bess.” she can’t remember the last time one of her dearest friends was so serious. “i forgive you, and you gotta forgive yourself now cause we got work to do, yeah?” good god, do not cry. “okay.”  “okay.” benny pulls her into a hug, squeezing tight. “we got you girl, alright? i told you, we’re in this together.” those are familiar words. bess lets them wash over her. how had she forgotten? where had she let herself fall that her friends couldn’t pull her back into the light?  “c’mon.” bess accepts her saint c’s envelope with a grateful smile and benny steers her out of the club, his arm around her shoulders. “there’s fun to be had tonight.” “let’s go, bess!”  she lets prisha drag her forward, laughing despite herself and looping her arm through her best friend’s as they head out into the warm night air.  “where the heck are those boys?” prisha asks at the next corner. benny and samuel of course, are following at a more sedated pace to her one track mind. bess catches samuel’s eye and he smiles in that crooked, amused sort of way she hasn’t seen in ages— not since they shot more love, it feels like. relief is such a strange feeling for the moment, but there it is.  * bess isn’t tired anymore. she has no idea when she became such a homebody (though louie’s social worker may thoughts) but her exhaustion from the day seems to disappear the moment the bass finds a home behind her ribs. prisha presses a tiny glass into her hand and bess doesn’t think.  the vodka sears on the way down. it makes her gasp a little, like a livewire shock to the system. bess can only look up to see samuel wave from the bar before benny’s dragging her onto the floor; she loses sight of him in the crush of bodies and the pulse of the music carries her away.  samuel’s still there, some two or three songs later. just before they lock eyes, bess notices something very serious in his expression, something she can’t put into words fast enough, that draws a strange shiver from the base of her spine.  then he smiles, familiar laugh lines and narrowed eyes, and it’s gone.  bess remembers the way he’d so easily coaxed her into a silly dance set to their own music. have things gotten so strange between them that they could never go back there? not if she has anything to say about it. “I’m not drunk enough yet,” he objects, but his fingers close around hers even as he says it and she knows she’s won. samuel follows her so easily back to benny and prisha– like he’d follow her anywhere maybe, if she asked, and then suddenly bess is the one not quite drunk enough—  and then the beat pulls them in again.  it’s silly at first, just like before. at one point samuel and benny do the chicken dance to a hip-hop song and bess thinks she might die with laughter. she presses against prisha, hips and shoulders. her best friend spins her out; bess nearly stumbles but samuel is there, catching her by the elbows, drawing her in with that same teasing smile that had eased her nerves on that warm summer afternoon. she can see the memory of it reflected in his eyes. bess wants to fall into it headfirst. she steps closer just as samuel pulls her in; her hand lands on the back of his neck; his fingertips slip under the hem of her top and brush the shy skin of her hip.  samuel pauses, like a silent question, until bess coaxes his body back into the swaying rhythm with her own. her head feels heady, her body overwarm almost, but bess doesn’t want to stop because there it is again, that serious look— bess wants— “dance, dance, dance is my lung—”  “fuck no!” the moment—or whatever that was—grinds to a halt. samuel laughs so hard that she can feel his shoulders shaking. for several seconds they just look at each other, then over at benny who’s having the time of his life, and then bess is doubling over too.  samuel leans close to be heard over the din. “drink?” his breath brushes her ear and bess tries not to shiver, nodding enthusiastically in a vain attempt to cover for herself. they’ve lost prisha and benny to the worst song ever, so samuel keeps a firm grip on her hand as they snake their way back to the bar.  there must be some kind of special on shots tonight. bess can only stare at a bartender pouring no less than twelve in a perfect row for a huge group of women. one is wearing a tiara and white sash. that trying not to laugh smile tilts samuel’s mouth while they wait their turn. the sardine pack of people presses them together from hip to shoulder but he doesn’t seem to mind. the bar curves around in a skinny oval, drinks being served on either side. as servers slide back and forth, bess notices a guy looking at her from across the way. staring, more like it. the glint in his eyes makes her stomach turn. before bess can glare, turn away, or even shudder, samuel’s arm slides around her. his fingertips trace the curves of her rings on the bartop— affectionate, possessive almost. bess turns her head and samuel winks before leaning forward to touch their foreheads together. “pretend i just told you something hilarious.” his mouth hovering over hers is almost too distracting— his free hand pinches her side to help her along and giggles jump out. bess doesn’t resist when samuel tightens his grip and pulls her closer against him. he presses his mouth to her temple just above her ear. “he’s gone.” bess does shudder now, though for a different reason altogether. “thanks.” samuel just squeezes her once before releasing her. their shots arrive finally, amber liquid glowing strangely in the light.  “still good?” he asks, and bess nods firmly. “still good.” she meets his eyes as she brings the shot to her mouth. samuel is still looking at her when she puts the glass back down. inside her, it seems. “c’mon.” he says. samuel looks almost fond now. bess blinks; a trick of the light? is she that tipsy already? “we’d better go find those two.” she just takes his hand and follows.  * bess is... well. she’s not sober.  benny had waved goodbye from an uber outside the club. they’d made it three quarters of the way to the subway station before ananya had called, quickly devolving into an impassioned conversation and prish too, vanished into a cab and promising to call when she got to her— girlfriend’s? house.  “have fun you two!”  and now: “i’m fine, sam.”  his mouth twitches. “don’t think so, b.”  yikes, she hates that. bess rolls her eyes, pointing at her station stairway. “you’re literally going in the opposite direction. it’s like...” she has to look at their cross streets and do the math. “eight stops. at the most.” samuel nods. “all about figure eights. love an even number. let’s go.”  bess knows she should just let this go and stop being so stubborn. but something in her just can’t be stopped. samuel sighs, dragging her by the elbow across the sidewalk, out of the way of a clearly aggrieved businessman who disappears down the steps.  “bess. just tell me something.” it’s hard to meet his eyes, intent as they are. “would you let prisha take the train home by herself tonight? if you were going... I dunno, home with me?”  her stomach flips, surprising, terrifying, thrillingly pleasant. it’s all the shots.  samuel’s ears go pink under the glow of the streetlight. “you know what i mean.” she’s stubbornly quiet; he ducks his head, refusing to be deterred. “bess.” “ugh, no. of course not!” “because you think she can’t take care of herself?” bess rolls her eyes. “she’s my best friend, you know that. it’s just what you do.” “right.” she hates the way samuel’s looking at her now, the way he had when he’d laid all her fears out bare in the close space of his apartment: so certain and so kind. “so why do you think i’d let you take the train home alone?” for a moment, she can only stare. maybe it’s the alcohol, but samuel has never quite looked so vulnerable. bess doesn’t have the right words (maybe there aren’t any) so she just drags him forward by the shoulders. samuel exhales sharply, a faint laugh in her ear, but he wraps both his arms tight around her— an embrace that somehow feels more intimate than their pretence from hours before. bess endeavours not to think about it too much. “c’mon bestie,” she says when she pulls back. samuel does laugh fully this time, wide enough to show his teeth. bess thinks back to the night of their first gig, the sound of his valerie chasing hers in echoes. it’s a wonder anyone’s more stubborn that she is.  samuel ushers her down the stairs with a sweep of his arm and bess laughs too. *   bess loves her dog. she’d convinced samuel he should probably come in for water, or tea, maybe an advil. ella had poked her head out from bess’ room and when she turns around from her perusal of the fridge, bess finds samuel fully sitting on the floor, ella laying between his legs, stroking her head. “who’s my sweetest girl?” he coos.  her heart something funny inside her chest. samuel looks up, his obvious joy so bright in the dim light of the kitchen and bess is nearly choked with the possibility that she’d nearly pushed him too far away to ever see it again.  “bess,” he says, his cheeks dimpling, “her ears are so soft. like, they’re the softest thing i’ve maybe ever felt in my life?”  wonder of wonders.  she can only nod in emphatic agreement. how many shots have they had?  “you’re lucky,” samuel continues, still making ella’s night by never stopping in his affection. bess’ eyes get stuck on his hands, the motion of his fingertips and the turns of his wrists. “my parents never let us have pets and my building doesn’t allow them either.”  “you know ella would love if you came over and pet her all the time.” she gets that muted surprise again, which melts into something bess isn’t sure how to name.  “would you like that, el? hmm?” he leans down to kiss the top of the dog’s head. “wanna spend more time with uncle samuel?” how is it that her most loyal companion is somehow more intimate with samuel than bess is? and why on earth would she ever have a thought like that? “so,” she says, maybe a bit too high-pitched for her own liking (ella looks up at her and bess wants to glare), “we have water, tea, popsicles, half a bottle of jack.” samuel laughs and shakes his head. “i thought we were sobering up?” bess shrugs. “so, popsicle?” he laughs again and it warms her inexplicably all the way to her toes.  they have water, following ella into bess’ room, toeing out of their shoes when she jumps onto the bed. the dog puts her head on samuel’s lap and stares balefully up at him until he resumes his gentle stroking. bess leans back against her wall. she’s looking at ella and pretending she can’t feel the heat of samuel’s gaze on her face. if she thinks too hard about it, bess remembers wishing she could share a moment like this with someone else. she doesn’t regret anything that lead her here, but something in her is too afraid to meet samuel’s eye, like he’d be able to read the truth of that in her face and that she’d have somehow ruined tonight, this quiet moment of warmth and contentment. she leans her head on his shoulder and he turns his cheek into her hair. when bess finally looks up, samuel’s face is vey close.  is he looking at her mouth? is she leaning?  “are you drunk, bess?” he asks softly. she stops. considers. “yes. you?” samuel’s smile is a little rueful. he nods. “i should go.” bess understands. it’s late. they’re tired and inebriated. he has to go all the way back to his. they almost... and yet she says, “stay.”  he blinks. “what?”  this might be a terrible idea. “stay.” “but—” she rolls her eyes. “what makes you think i’d let you go home alone either?” the surprise is plain now. he looks that almost-vulnerable again. bess is oddly satisfied. “are you sure?” it’s strangely hard to keep his eye even as she points out, “we’re fine, right?” he nods again, a little slower. “and it’s not like we’ve never shared a bed.” when bess finally manages it, samuel’s gaze is very soft. “true.” and just when she thinks he’s going to refuse her still, he says, “okay. thanks.” how do you tell someone out that you just don’t want to be alone out loud?  thankfully samuel doesn’t make her voice it. he just smiles as bess gathers something approximating pyjamas and crosses the room. “sorry i don’t have anything that would fit you,” (he snorts and she’s warmed) “but you know, make yourself comfortable however. come get a toothbrush from under the sink.” and so that’s how they end up side-by-side in the cramped bathroom of her and prisha’s apartment, brushing their teeth. samuel makes faces at her in the mirror and it should be strange, to be t-shirt and shorts/boxers open with him. but he’s seen down into the root of who she is, so isn’t all this less? he’s humming something familiar as she washes her face, catching her surprised reflection.  “it’s yours.” bess casts her mind back. “from–” “that first night, yeah.” she nearly drops her face towel. bess has never shown him that song. samuel shakes his head with a chuckle, a familiar you’re a weirdo. “it would be just like you to play something that gets eight bars stuck in my head for months and never sing it again.” “i...” bess can’t pinpoint a reason besides her own fear, like a karmic penance for one of the most humiliating nights of her life. “i can’t believe you remember.” there’s a truth in his eyes that neither of them are willing to admit they can see.  “wanna work on it?” she asks impulsively, determined now to redraw a better memory, “maybe tomorrow?” samuel’s grin is so wide it’s almost hard to take in all at once. “this mean you’re gonna actually do that open mic?” bess shrugs. she needs to escape this tiny room all of a sudden. “maybe.” he doesn’t push her further and she’s grateful. samuel hesitates at the edge of her bed as bess pulls up the cover.  “oh my god, just get in the bed samuel.” and he does. their knees touch. bess turns out the light but there’s still just enough to see him looking at her. drunkenness has made her warm and sleepy.  “what?” “for the record,” he says, “i know what i think of you.” it feels like they’re teetering on an edge. “cool grandpa?” they laugh so hard that ella jumps from the foot of the bed. samuel looks so fond that bess doesn’t know what to do with herself. “yeah. that’s it.” “night samuel,” she whispers.  “night bess.” * (she wakes up before the sun, tangled up in him.  for once, rather than overthink it, bess just closes her eyes and goes back to sleep.) * bess can’t stop smiling. before she could even look at samuel after getting offstage, benny had lifted her off her feet and proceeded to all but bulldoze everyone in the club to get her in front of jeremy’s record label contact. could he tell that she’d just been kissed within an inch of her life? it feels like it’s written all over her face. bess can barely remember what she said, but his personal contact card is currently burning a whole though her purse. al buys them a round. (she finds ethan lingering in the back. what he says to her is somehow a surprise and not both at once. what she says to him, in the end, feels long overdue.) prisha insists everyone come back to their place to celebrate, and they pile into ubers. louie exalts her as a true artist the entire ride and even phil seems impressed. true to form though, he’s a roledex of weather facts as bess and prisha frantically pull out every candle or flashlight in the apartment; their lights flicker ominiously every so often as the storm beats down their windows. benny puts a playlist together and tries to order pizza. by some miracle, it actually arrives; everyone pools together for a 150% tip. so it feels like ages before bess looks up to find samuel leaning against the alcove of her living room, watching as louie begins a spirited debate on the best numbers in hamilton.  bess nods her head toward the door of her bedroom. she’s expecting him to make a silly face with his eyebrows or hesitate, but samuel’s mouth just curves up on one side, like that’s all he’s allowing himself, and follows. “for the record,” he says as the sounds of the party fade a little behind them, “the answer will always be satisfied. no contest.” god, how had she never seen him before? her bedside lamp is still working. bess fishes out a pale white whale from childhood, one that changes colour as you tap. she grins at samuel, who’s leaning against her closed door and smiling like he’s not even sure what to make of her.  “you’re incredible, you know that?” her face heats, pride and embarrassment both at once. “so are you. i can’t believe we got through that song.” “all you, bess.”  she wants to roll her eyes, but refrains. “the electric was a great idea.” samuel’s eyes drop when he smiles; the familiar humility in it reminds bess of the reason she wanted to talk to him in the first place.  “i know what you did tonight. before you showed up.” he looks up then, a little sharply. samuel’s always had a good poker face but bess can see it still, that guarded look. “what did i do, bess?” saying it out loud makes her feel like she’s in a movie. bess steps forward. “you told ethan to come. for me.” “are you upset?” “no. i just want to understand why.” samuel’s gaze is as steady as it’s ever been. “i just want you to be happy.”  she feels unraveled, somehow.  “then why did you...” even in the poor light, he flushes. “why did you kiss me?” samuel looks at the floor, then back at bess. her heart beats in double time. “he didn’t show, or so I thought. and I didn’t want to...” he laughs lightly, almost at himself. “throw away my shot. I guess I wasn’t really expecting you to—” try to press him into the wall? “to kiss me back, or even what that might mean, but I wanted to show you, or tell you that—” she’s close enough to touch him now. samuel’s hands cup her elbows, very gently, like he needs to ground himself. but he looks bess right in the eye. “even if you didn’t want me, i’d choose you first. every time.”  her heart free-falls.  “bess.” he squeezes a little, catching her eyes. how long have they been standing in this moment of after? “please say something.” “i told him we couldn’t work,” she says in a rush. “and i don’t even know if it was really because you and I—” bess stumbles but samuel hangs on, his grip on her unwavering, “but i think part of me always knew it was just...like, a fantasy? we barely even knew each other and i always hated myself a little for being that girl trying to steal someone else’s partner and i wasn’t dealing with any of my shit until—” samuel just waits. the realization feels too big, but there’s no going back now. “until i met you.” he looks almost stricken. bess lets out a strange, wondrous kind of laugh. she puts her hand on samuel’s chest. she’s the one who needs steadying, now. he draws her closer without looking away from her face, like he’s helpless to it.  bess can’t remember the last time she felt so sure of anything. all those those expressions that always felt hidden in his eyes seem so plain, now: surprise, fear, hope. “i choose you, samuel. though i probably don’t even deserve to.”  she can see his adam’s apple bob as he swallows. samuel’s hand brushes her hair back away from her face, tracking the curve of her ear. just before she’s about to freak out, he asks, “are you drunk, bess?” she nearly laughs. “no. are you drunk, samuel?” he shakes his head. she understands that serious look, now. it’s wanting. he wants her.  samuel goes to pull her the rest of the way in— “bess!”  louie’s voice and a loud knock on the door springs them apart. the lights go out.  “bess, we’re going now. and the lights are out. do you have a source of light in there? are you coming to say goodbye?” samuel lets out a long, low “fuck.” she has to clap her hand over her mouth. his nearly silent laugh ghosts over her skin as he presses his face into the curve of her neck.  (samuel kisses her there, just once, but it’s enough that her knees tremble a little and she can feel the shape of his smile too.)  “i’ll be right out!” bess calls to her brother. his shadow moves away from the door. hysterical giggles shake her shoulders. samuel’s hands slide up to hold her face. “do you wanna—” “come home with me.” she can barely make out his features in the dark (except for the want) but bess’ stomach drops anyway. the irony of no electricity is funny when she feels like sparks might burst from beneath her skin.  “okay.” * bess is deliriously happy. samuel puts down his guitar and barely lets the door close before he’s pressing bess against it with both hands. his palms are heavy and warm on her hipbones; bess wants to rock up against him but there’s a certain thrill in it, how strong he seems.  she has no idea the last time she was kissed like this.  despite how fierce it feels, samuel lets her lead. he doesn’t open his mouth until she does, touches his tongue tentatively against hers at first pass, tugs so gently on her lip with his teeth until she makes a noise like a whimper.  she should tell him maybe, that samuel made her completely forget herself, back in the alcove at saint c’s. but then bess just lets her hands find their way back into his now slightly damp hair. she’ll just relive it instead. she scrapes her nails over his scalp and samuel’s breath comes up short; it returns in something that sounds like a groan, or a snarl, and oh.  bess has to take deep breaths of her own when he pulls back, a wide-eyed glance to her face to make sure she’s alright. she can only nod. samuel’s fingertips squeeze her waist as some of that urgency seems to fade from his eyes. he trails his mouth slowly from her lips to her jaw; she tilts her head instinctively to give him room and samuel finds that same spot on her neck from her own bedroom.  his teeth and tongue press a little harder than before; he gets a gasp for his efforts. her legs feel unsteady again. bess grabs at the open sides of his button-down until samuel shrugs out of it. it drops to their feet. he doesn’t protest when bess pushes him gently, walking backwards across the apartment with his arm tight around her.  he doesn’t let go when his legs meet the edge of his bed. bess would fall into him if not for samuel keeping them upright. he drops to sit, pulling them apart, and finally bess has to take stock of herself. samuel’s face is so open, his smile so wide in a way she’s never seen before.  “still good?” he asks. bess nods.  “still good?” samuel laughs lightly. “i’m great, bess.” he reaches for her hand, his thumb brushing each of her rings in turn. “we can stop whenever you want.” she’s the one standing but bess feels smaller, strangely. instead of replying, bess steps out of her shoes. samuel’s eyes seem to darken as she slides her jacket from her shoulders and lets it pool on the floor. bess leans down and brings one knee to the bed, by his hip, balancing herself with one hand on his shoulder. samuel’s inhale is impossibly loud as he instinctively supports her with a sliding grip up the back of her thigh. bess’ skirt isn’t that short but she’s glad she didn’t trade it for jeans before she left. samuel’s face betrays how pleased he seems by her choice.  once she’s finished effectively straddling him, bess looks down from her perch.  “hi.” samuel’s knuckles stroke up and down her leg. goosebumps ripple and he smiles. “hi.” bess takes his face in both her hands and leans down as samuel tilts his chin up to meet her. she’ll never tire of kissing him. it feels like she can’t get close enough; he must have the same idea because his arms wrap around her back until bess is sitting firmly in his lap, their hips slotted together.  “can i touch you?” samuel asks against her mouth. bess nods, maybe too quickly, but she can’t bring herself to be embarrassed.  guitar callused fingers slide beneath her top. samuel reaches the slim band of her lacy bralette. he pauses, but bess leans into his hand and then he’s tracing the curve of her breast. his thumb brushes a little roughly over her nipple; bess feels an abrupt ache between her legs. “that seems pretty,” samuel murmurs in her ear, like a casual observation. “it’s a matching set,” she replies, trying not to sound too breathless. “for luck.” he pulls back with wide eyes. bess wants to laugh but she’s too busy dealing with this rush of blood to her face. she sits up carefully so they don’t knock heads and reaches for the edges of samuel’s t shirt first; he drags it over his head in one smooth, practiced motion. shit, he’s hot.  he’s staring as bess unfolds herself to stand back on the floor (her legs are still unsteady but he doesn’t need to know that) and goes to pull off her own shirt. samuel’s eyes don’t leave her face until the fabric coming over her head pulls her from view. when bess blinks him back into focus, he’s gone a little slack-jawed. she nods at his jeans and the speed at which samuel divests himself of them has her biting back a giggle. bess’ face feels hot but there’s a frisson of pride that straightens her spine. she’s not even half an arm’s length away from him. samuel touches her stomach, just above the waistband of her skirt. “can I?” bess has to swallow before she can nod. just like before, samuel stares at her face until the last half of her outfit joins the rest of their clothes in a heap. samuel’s eyes trail from her eyes to her feet and back. it takes everything in bess not to fidget. she expects to see heat in his expression but there’s only wonderment and tenderness.  “fuck, you’re so beautiful.” she has no idea what to do with that. samuel tugs her into his lap this time, intent. his kiss is searing. bess rocks into him, just once, just a little. that grip on her thighs returns, tighter. bess can only gasp a laugh into his mouth when samuel stands, holding her up against him, and turns to lower her with a kind of breathtakingly slow care onto his bed.  bess lands on her back, samuel now the one leaning over her. desire coils low in her stomach. he gently shifts her hips so they’re both actually parallel with the long edges of the comforter.  she feels inexplicably, unbearably, fond of him.  then samuel looks away. he exhales, like he’s embarrassed.  bess frowns in concern. “what is it?” samuel shakes his head. “when you look at me like that, I can’t catch my breath.” oh. it feels so strange to be the steadier one. bess reaches for his cheek, drawing samuel’s eyes back to her. “guess you’ll just have to distract me, then.” he laughs, but then as he leans down, samuel’s smile fades and bess remembers. he wants her. she can feel it. his hand slides, pleasantly rough, over her skin, sliding beneath the band of her bralette. bess seizes samuel’s lip in her teeth as he strokes back over her breast. he teases her nipple and the moment bess manages to wriggle out of the garment and tosses it away, samuel’s swapped his hand with his tongue, her other breast now teased by his clever fingers. she gasps again and she can feel him smirking. samuel diverts his mouth’s attention to her other side. bess focuses on her breathing. the storm still lashes against the windows but it feels like nothing compared to the roaring in her blood. bess slides her fingers up the nape of samuel’s neck and a few things happen at once: samuel’s free hand finds the damp junction between her legs; bess pulls his hair a tiny bit harder than intended; his teeth catch her nipple with just enough firmness that bess’ back nearly arches off the bed, along with a keening noise she didn’t even realize she could make. samuel freezes immediately. he looks up and bess has no idea what her face looks like, but all she can say is, “do that again.” he leans back down, his teeth scraping over her other breast; when he tugs, bess does too, so hard that samuel hisses.  “sorry,” she pants, “sorry.” he shakes his head, a firm denial. it might be the dark, the lightning, or the fact that bess is so fucking turned on, but samuel’s expression has veered far past wanting— into hunger. he practically leaps back up to her mouth, a kiss so fierce that their teeth nearly clack together. “your hands,” he says, like it enrages him almost, “in my hair, holy fuck.”  oh was right. “you’re one to talk about hands,” bess retorts. “can you please just–” samuel leans back. “can i please just what?” he looks smug the bastard. it would be like them to bicker in the middle of sex, wouldn’t it? but his tone is so serious when he says, “tell me what you want, bess.” that she has to squeeze her thighs together.  “please touch me.” “where?”  bess is going to kill him. samuel touches her cheek with surprising gentleness, and kisses her there. “here?” he does the same to her neck. “here?” her shoulder. he marks the valley of her breasts, the slope of her navel, the jut of her pelvic bone. “samuel,” bess says. it sounds like a plea but she doesn’t care. she can only reach his shoulder now, the back of his neck. he may have shivered but she can’t tell because she’s too busy trying to keep it together.  he finally finds the elastic of her underwear.  “okay, bess?” this question isn’t a joke. bess makes sure to meet samuel’s eye; the mixture of that desire and care makes her dizzy. “yes. please.” when his fingers have finally slid inside her, bess says “samuel,” at a level of breathlessness she only ever gets when she sings. he touches her with the same care and confidence as he does any of their instruments, until her legs tremble; samuel finds a beat with his tongue against her clit that’s so good bess has to cover her mouth when she comes.  samuel crawls back up the bed towards her. he leaves a kiss on the inside of her knee, and her shoulder, just an inch or two from where he had the first night she’d stayed here. bess feels very safe, suddenly.  “still good?” samuel asks again, a more raw edge to the question this time. bess can only affirm silently as she leans up a little to kiss him. she can taste herself in his mouth, can feel the weight of his arousal against her. bess presses up and samuel groans.  heat pulses again between her legs. “do you want,” bess starts, putting her hands on him, straining against his boxers. samuel’s whole body seems to twitch. he pulls her wrists away though with a bruising kiss.  “i’m just dying to be inside you, if that’s cool.” her stomach flips.  “very cool.” samuel smiles and goes willingly when bess rolls them over. he reaches blindly into a bedside drawer. bess catches sight of a pair of glasses and makes a mental note to ask about them when her mind’s not currently so occupied.  “shit, are these even in date?” samuel squints at the packet in his hand. “god, have i not had sex in this long?” bess can’t help but laugh. they giggle their way through confirming the expiry date, getting rid of samuel’s boxers, and rolling on the condom in the dark. for a moment they just look at each other. bess hasn’t ached like this for anyone in a long time.  “tell me what you want, samuel.” his adam’s apple bobs as he sits up. “c’mere.”  samuel pulls her forward and bess lifts her hips to line them up. he swallows her tiny gasp as she sinks down onto him; it’s been a while for her, too. samuel anchors her with one hand splayed across her back, waiting silently until bess has adjusted to the stretch.  bess rocks down experimentally and he makes an almost strangled noise in the back of his throat. a soft kiss lands on her forehead, a starkly tender inverse to nearly everything that’s happened so far, and maybe even to what they’re about to do. it settles bess and breaks her open both at once.  “okay?” he asks carefully. she nods, wrapping both her arms around his neck. “you’re amazing, you know that?” samuel murmurs over her lips. his own hips swing up towards hers and wow. “bess.” she was right, before. he’s strong.  they get a rhythm going quickly enough, like another harmony that comes so easy. the angle has bess’ clit pressing with beautiful pressure against samuel’s pelvis; she clenches down just as he thrusts up. he curses and it just stokes that flame hotter inside of her. after a certain point bess can’t even speak anymore. she has both her hands in samuel’s hair and he’s latched back onto the curve between her neck and shoulder, teeth and tongue and words like, fuck and tight and good and bess— “samuel i—” he looks up at her face like he wants to commit it to memory.  “bess.” and she’s gone again. * when they’ve caught their breath and tidied up, bess and samuel find themselves side by side in his bathroom, a sweet reflection of that night from weeks ago. she’s glad she thought to bring her toothbrush. samuel keeps staring at her in the mirror.  “what?”  does she have toothpaste on her face? he just shakes his head, the way he does when he laughs to himself.  “nothing. you just look better in my t-shirts than i do.”  bess rolls her eyes but her face feels hot anyway. “weirdo.” it feels good not to have to wonder as they head back to his bed. samuel drags her immediately towards him beneath the covers, his cool hands greedy beneath her borrowed sleepwear as her back curves against his chest. he plants a minty kiss above her shoulder-blade where his shirt’s slipped down. bess shivers and he leaves another on the back of her neck. “sorry,” he murmurs, and bess flips around to look at him.  “for what?” the storm broke finally, and amber light of the street through his windows feels just as safe and warm as it had before. but samuel is the one who seems afraid, now.  “i don’t want to freak you out.” “you’re not freaking me out,” bess insists. “tell me.” samuel hesitates. bess reaches out to touch his face.  “hey. i don’t scare that easy either, you know.” he exhales a faint laugh. it’s so rare to see samuel seem unsure, or fragile. it makes bess feel thrillingly off-centre.  “i don’t think i’ll ever be able to stop wanting you.”  she’s falling.  “and not just—” samuel nods vaguely at their general closeness. “this. i mean all of it. the music, your family, everything. i know it’s probably a bad idea to start things with bandmates or whatever but i just—”  bess doesn’t let him finish. she can only pour all her affection for him into a kiss, taking samuel’s huff of surprise in her mouth even as he reaches for her waist to pull her closer, then on top of him.  when she pulls away he seems a little dazed.  “you make the bad days okay,” bess says firmly and samuel smiles with such near-adoration that she understands it now, that loss of air. “so we’ll figure it out, okay? one day at a time.” samuel nods. “okay.”  and he pulls her back down. * bess wakes up with words in her mind.  samuel’s grip is so tight that at first she doesn’t think he’ll let her go. but bess manages to slide away, picking up his hand gently and lifting his arm. she looks at his sleeping face and kisses his knuckles.  samuel’s lips curve a little and if she looks too hard she could be in love with him already.  she knows where he keeps blank sheet paper in his production area. bess finds a pen and a coffee table book about new york parks; she sits on the edge of the bed to scrawl, humming to herself.  she doesn’t realize he’s up until a familiar press of lips lands on her neck. bess will never stop shivering and samuel will apparently never stop smiling about it.  “hi,” he mumbles. his voice is low and gravely with sleep. bess files that away under the list of things that does something to her. samuel hooks his chin over her shoulder and bess lifts her work to accommodate his arms sliding around her waist. “new idea?” bess nods. “thinking about what you said to me.”  she’s circled can’t catch my breath at the top of the page. samuel goes very still. it feels like it could crush them, the weight of this kind of intimacy. but at least bess doesn’t have to carry it alone. “wanna write with me?”  she turns her head to look at him; samuel’s surprise will never not be thrilling.  “will you let me add a back beat?”  he’s already reaching for his guitar. bess laughs.  “i could maybe be persuaded.” the way his eyebrow lifts makes her stomach jump. “duly noted.” (they do finish the song, eventually.  the morning just gets away from them first.) 

I’ve read Waid and Hickman’s FF runs and am currently reading Zdarsky’s 2 in One. I’m planning on eventually reading the Lee/Kirby run. Can I ask, what other runs would you recommend? Is Claremont’s good? Sorry for bothering.

I LOVE Waid and Hickman’s Fantastic Four runs, and Zdarsky’s Marvel Two-In-One was excellent to the point where one of my lingering disappointments is that Marvel brought the Fantastic Four back in a way that prematurely cut off Zdarksy’s 2n1. I know I said I wanted them back but wow did we all get monkey’s paw’d on that one. Zdarsky did really excellent stuff with both Ben and Johnny and the multiverse hopping was honestly fun and interesting. Lee/Kirby is also, in my opinion, just a really terrific run -- it lays the groundwork for not only the future of the Fantastic Four but a lot of big concepts for the Marvel Universe in general, and I think it holds up really well by modern day storytelling standards. Lee’s sense of humor works well with the retrofuturistic vibe and Kirby’s art is always wonderful. In particular I think it’s interesting to look back on The Galactus Trilogy (Fantastic Four #48-50) as the granddaddy of all event comics, for better or worse. 

Claremont -- okay, I love Claremont’s run, let me start off by saying that. Claremont’s run follows on what is in my opinion one of the worst periods of Fantastic Four canon, and I mean bad to the point where the literal canon at that point was that to get things back on track the Fantastic Four had to be put in a bubble universe. Claremont’s run kicks in one or two issues after their return to the main Marvel universe and it’s so fun. I think Fantastic Four is one of those series that kind of flourishes in adversity and Claremont’s run starts off with the Fantastic Four trying to regain their footing in a world that had assumed them dead, their Baxter Building gone, living in a warehouse property. Claremont, in my opinion, also has one of the best if not the best handle on characterization for a lot of key Fantastic Four figures, including Johnny, Reed, and Sue. His Ben is also very good, but I think Ben in particular tends to be an easier sell for a lot of comic book writers -- the outcast, the gruff man, the comic relief. He’s easier to identify with than Reed, the Smartest Man on Earth, or Johnny, defined by his youth and beauty and queercoded since the ‘60s, or Sue, by sheer factor of being a woman. So I think a lot of writers identify with Ben first and foremost and put the most love and care into his depiction, whereas the others are a little easier for them to leave by the wayside. Which isn’t a bad thing -- I love that one of the most beloved comic book characters is also one of Marvel’s few canonically Jewish characters, but there is a wealth of truly excellent Ben canon in comparison to the other three. Especially with Johnny, there’s no one else who has written for Fantastic Four who has put nearly as much thought and detail into Johnny’s relationship with his powers, both the positive and the negative, as Claremont has, even reworking the origin story from Lee and Kirby’s joyous scene of Johnny flaming on for the first time into a deeply traumatizing incident -- being sixteen and traumatized and bursting into uncontrollable flames. 

(Fantastic Four v3 #11) There’s also a lot of women in Claremont’s run! A valid criticism of Fantastic Four canon is that by its initial core team makeup it tends to be lacking in female characters compared to some other big Marvel staples, but Claremont brings in a ton, from Reed’s college friend and fellow genius Alyssa Moy (who has been done dirty by pretty much every other writer who’s ever touched her, including Waid and Hickman) to multiversal bounty hunter Bounty to the most platonic of Johnny’s gal pals Caledonia to Valeria Von Doom, a “time dancing” teenage incarnation of the baby Sue lost back in Byrne’s run, who sets up baby Val’s eventual return. Claremont is also king of Reed vs Doom setups -- if you haven’t read his Fantastic Four vs X-Men miniseries, I highly recommend it, and he brings a lot of the two sides of the same coin energy from that into his Fantastic Four run. 

The downside of Claremont’s run is that the plot is always there and always running and I could not explain half of it if you paid me. Things certainly happen! Like all the time! For seemingly no apparent reason! Stuff gets set up and then it’s not resolved and now we are in Latveria! I don’t think this is necessarily all that detrimental -- the run is still massively fun and the characterization is always fresh and interesting. It’s just that sometimes you have no idea what’s going on and you have to roll with it. And then sometimes you do know what’s going on but in the way where you know Claremont was just writing it because it’s his kink. Which is like, whatever. As authorial ids go, you can pretty consistently do worse than Claremont’s, I’ll give him that. So I do recommend on it the whole, as long as you’re not going into expecting the kind of plots either Hickman or Waid brought the book. Claremont’s is kind of like “stuff happens and it’s either weird or fun so just don’t pay too much attention to it.” 

Aside from Claremont, I feel like I generally like far more Fantastic Four runs than I dislike -- but also I don’t hate Millar’s run, which is honestly bad, so it’s possible I’m just very forgiving with the Fantastic Four. I really like Robinson’s run, which is the last run before the Great Fantastic Four Drought of 2015-2018. It’s short, self-contained, and devoted entirely to one story, so it’s pretty tightly written, with good characterization and some very shiny art by Leonard Kirk. Straczynski’s run is decent enough for the fact that it intersects with Civil War -- I think he does his best to get into the heads of the characters re: their actions in Civil War -- and it leads directly into Dwayne McDuffie’s run, another brief one where Black Panther and Storm take over for Reed and Sue. Very fun. Marvel Knights 4 is also a fairly recent run that’s got some strong moments in it, although I feel it’s a little inconsistent in its handling of the characters. It’s still fun, though. For an older, longer run, I like Simsonson’s -- the art is very dynamic, even if the storyline kind of gets too involved with itself. 

(FF #337)

I recommend Byrne’s run with the caveat that there’s plenty to dislike about it and plenty of reasons to avoid it, not the least of it being Byrne himself as a creator and a person. It’s heavily sexist in how it deals with Sue, it retcons a huge age gap into Sue and Reed’s relationship, and Byrne’s early departure sets up my all time least favorite Fantastic Four story. (Though that one is Roger Stern and later Tom DeFalco’s fault.) It is historic as Fantastic Four runs go, though, and there’s a lot in later runs that’s built over it or references it or borrows from it. So it’s a rec with a lot of caveats and I also understand why people might give it a skip -- I think it’s more important for an understanding of the greater body of Fantastic Four canon and the impact it had than for the actual run itself. I do think Byrne has some very interesting subtext with Johnny, although it never come to fruition, and while his Sue falls victim to a lot of sexism, I really like what he does with the character of Frankie Raye, who like poor Alyssa Moy I don’t think has ever gotten really good treatment ever since.

I have mixed feelings on both Millar and Fraction’s runs, not in the least because I think they end very similarly -- and that Millar did it better, which doesn’t say great things. Millar’s run is kind of like a trashy popcorn flick version of Fantastic Four; it’s not actually good, but I can’t say I don’t like the terrible eldritch monster in Scotland Christmas arc (Fantastic Four #564-565) and I’m sort of into future Sue. Fraction, on the other hand, takes a space road trip and makes it boring, which is the greatest Fantastic Four sin of all. He’s one of the rare writers who I think actually writes a bad Ben Grimm -- not the least because his run goes out of its way to try and label it Ben’s own fault that he was transformed into a monster. I do really like his FF (just the initials) though. 

The only Fantastic Four runs I can say I really truly dislike are Tom DeFalco’s and Dan Slott’s, which sort of unfortunate because DeFalco’s is both long influential (I have no idea why because it’s honestly terrible like in terms of storytelling) and because Slott’s is happening right now. DeFalco comes onto the book on Fantastic Four #356 and stays on until Fantastic Four #416, at which point Marvel hit a literal retcon button to get out of the mess he’d made. (This leads into Fantastic Four v2, which is largely skippable -- it’s basically a mid-90s retelling of a bunch of early Fantastic Four stories that leads back into the FF heading back to the main universe.) DeFalco’s responsible for the Skrull retcon in the JohnnyAlicia marriage and for dragging that out for over 50 issues, the entirety of which feel like he was writing without a plan or outline or literally anything, and I have never felt like a comic book was attempting to gaslight me through its own incompetence or refusal to commit to things it set up itself as badly as I do with DeFalco’s run. (I like other non-Fantastic Four Tom DeFalco runs. I just hate this one.) Dan Slott’s run is just 25 issues and counting of badly written emotionless unfunny pages blandly stapled together and I so badly want Marvel to kick him off the book for its own good.

Scars

Original request from @sorrybutimtrying: Can you do one where Chris Evans or Paul Rudd meets a fan, sees her scars and tries to help her. Or something like that

Description: You win one of those contests where you and some other people get to meet and fraternize with a celebrity. This time, it’s Paul Rudd. He notices something you wished he hadn’t.

Characters: reader, original female and male characters (Sophia the Marvel person, Olivia the other teen girl, and a lot of unnamed men and women), Paul Rudd

Warnings: swearing, implied self-harm, self-harm scars, being sexually harassed at work, mentioned cat calling

Word count: 3.8k

See Ant-Man three weeks early, hang out with the one and only Paul Rudd, play laser tag, and pizza together on an all expenses paid trip to LA! Enter now! 12 lucky fans will be chosen. Entries close in three hours. 

You take a moment to stop scrolling. Your heart speeds up; it always does when opportunities arise. You always apply, but you never win. Glancing at the clock, you see you still have ten minutes on break. 

What the heck, might as well enter. There's nothing to lose. 

Entering takes the rest of your break. You were asked questions, and had to enter your phone number and email address a few times. You submit your entry as soon as your break ended. Sighing, you push yourself to your feet. Back to serving customers and getting yelled at by your manager. 

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

Life gets hard and you completely forget that you ever entered in the first place. 

You aren't proud of what you do to cope. Hell, you've managed to stop doing it completely for a few months. But sometimes it's so hard. Too hard to do anything else. 

You don't show off your scars. By sticking to long sleeve shirts, concealer, and strategically placed bracelets, you can easily make it seems like there are a few birthmarks on your wrists instead anything self-inflicted. 

Unfortunately, you can't afford to see a professional. Both you and your mother are working multiple jobs so you can eat and have a place to live. Deep down, you know you should tell her. Deep down, you want to tell her. But you can't bring yourself to. It'll only stress her out. Between two jobs and going back to school to finish her degree, you don’t want to bring her more stress. But your always hopeful for the day where she'd be able to help you through your hard days. 

Speaking of hard days, you hate being a waitress. You work in a particularly sleazy part of town where the guys like to call out anything resembling a female body. Walking down the street brings you one cat call after another, and waitressing isn't any better. You get called every pet name under the sun. Sweetie, babe, baby girl, jujubee. Someone even called you, a 16-year-old wearing some of the baggiest clothes imaginable, sugartits. Your manager had fun with him. 

After getting home, you flop on your bed and fight the urge to cry. You made a whopping fifteen dollars in tips that night for working 4 hours, a customer yelled at you for giving them iced tea with ice in it, and a guy started following you home until he got bored. It was not a good night. 

Then your phone starts to ring. Maroon 5 reverberates in your room, simultaneously annoying you and making you feel a tiny bit better. Without looking at the caller ID, you pick up the phone. 

"Hello?" You ask, voice muffled by the pillow your head is still buried in. 

"Hi there! I'm looking for a Y/N Y/L/N." A feminine voice chirps through the phone.

"Yeah, that's me." You roll onto your back so you can speak clearer. 

"Great. My name is Sophia Ramsey, I'm the one organizing the event with Paul Rudd. I'm so excited to let you know that you won! You will be one of twelve to be flown out to LA to meet with him and spend the day with him."

A huge smile tugs at your lips, so much so your face starts to hurt. "What?" You laugh. "Are you serious?"

"I sure am! Some blank documents have been sent to the email you provided in your entry. I need you to fill them out and either fax them to the number listed on them, mail them to the address listed, or scan them and email them to that same email address."

"I-I can totally do that!"

"Now this event is an all expenses paid, so everything will be provided for you. You'll be flown out the day of and flown back home after it ends. It will be held June seventh."

"Thank you so much!"

She laughs at your enthusiasm. "Of course. Once we get those documents we will be organizing your flights. We will be in touch."

"Awesome, wonderful. Thanks so much!"

"You're so welcome. Bye bye now."

You pull the phone away from your ear, sporting a grin that could rival the Cheshire cat himself. You won! You won you won you won! You're going to meet one of your favorite actors!

You pull up your email on your phone immediately. Spotting the email, you skim through the PDFs quickly. Since you're a minor, there are a lot of things your mom has to sign. 

I need to print these. You think, biting your lip. You don't want to wait for the next at school, you want to fill these out now. Grabbing your wallet and apartment keys, you run (yes, run) down to the library that's a few blocks away. A lot of students gather there for studying and the free wifi.

You wave at a few of your classmates, and they nod back. You print the documents off quickly, paying a small fee for the paper, and you run (yes, run) back home. 

You bounce into your apartment, still giddy (and sweaty). 

"Mom! Mom, you'll never guess what happened!" You exclaim upon seeing your mother sitting on the couch in the living room. 

She looks up from the book she was reading with a tired smile. "What happened, sweetie?"

"Remember that thing I entered? That event Marvel was hosting?" You ask, vibrating with excitement. 

"I do."

"I won! I won Mom! I get to meet Paul Rudd!" 

A grin broke out on your mom's face. "Oh, Y/N, that's awesome."

"I know! I have to fill out these documents. Do we have somewhere we can fax things? Do you know how to fax? I don't know how to fax."

She laughs. "I'll teach you how to fax things, don't you worry." 

------

You get everything taken care of the day after. After another call with Sophia, you manage scheduling flights and times for the drivers (you get a driver! how awesome!)

In the weeks leading up to the event, all your extra effort is put into a gift for Paul. You have a knack for art that you don't have much time for anymore. Between school and work, it's also hard to find energy to put into it. 

However, you said 'screw school' and began an art project: a hand-drawn collage of all Paul Rudd's characters, including Ant-Man. It takes all the time leading up to the event, but you manage to make it look amazing. Along with the collage, you write him a letter. You don't believe it to be anything very special, but you hope he will appreciate it. You detail your own struggles and how much looking up to him has helped you. 

Then the day comes.

You barely sleep at all the night before. Adrenaline and an unhealthy amount of caffeine replace any semblance of rest you may have gotten. 

The driver arrives at your apartment at 4:30 AM to take you to the nearest airport. After triple checking your stuff and a quick goodbye with your mom, you're off.

The car is so nice. You have no idea what make or model it is, but you're sure it very expensive. The drive doesn't take a long time; the roads are practically empty and there is little traffic, which is great. 

However, you're left on your own in the airport, which is not great. A lot of zombie-esque people are there, a few crying children, and some drug dogs even joined the party. You bite your lip, scratching at your concealed wrists. It's something you always do when you're nervous. 

You don't have any bags other than a backpack, so you don't need to check anything. Looking around, you try to spot someone that looks like they know what they're doing. You eventually do, and follow them to security.

The line is long, and after moderate hassle with the agents, you're through and on the way to your gate. Once you get there, you closely examine your ticket. First class. Your eyebrows shoot up. The first time you're flying and you get first class. Damn. Okay, you'll take it.

The flight was good: no babies cried, the flight people were all super nice, and you even got the entire row to yourself.

After the flight, you're off to the venue. You meet your new driver at the exit and get to another very expensive looking car. 

LA traffic is everything you've heard and more. The streets are packed, and it takes quite a while for you to get where you're supposed to be. But when you do, it is incredible. 

The building is huge. It's wall to wall one way glass. The sun bounces off the silver accents, almost blinding you. Out of pure impulse, you take a picture. You almost don't believe that you're here. 

After thanking the driver, you hop out of the car and walk into the glass building. The interior is even prettier. 

It's clean, with dark oak floors and chairs and tables lining the wall. A small group of excited people are gathered by a longer table full of stuff. Your anxiety spikes. This is actually happening. You're going to meet one of your heroes and give him some of your art. This cannot be happening. You nails find your wrist again.

After making your way to the small group, they immediately welcome you into the circle. They each introduce themselves for probably the millionth time, and one of them informs you that everyone is here. 

After a few minutes of pure small talk, a woman walks into the lobby area. 

"Hi everyone!" You all turn to her. She's dressed in a red sleeveless blouse, black slacks and high heels. Her face is done up nicely, as is her hair. She stands proudly with a charismatic smile gracing her face."I'm Sophia, the manager of this event. I'm so excited to get started! First things first, we'll start with the meet and greet. Each one of you will get 15 minutes with Paul. After that, there'll be a few games of laser tag, and finally, the screening of the new Ant-Man movie! We at Marvel ask that you keep all the movie details to yourself so everyone can enjoy the movie when it comes out."

Murmurs of agreement spread through the room. 

“If you all follow me, we can get started," Sophia leads the group to a different room. Paul is sitting at a table with an empty chair next to him. 

Excitement spreads through you. He looks so much more real in person, as weird as that sounds. You bite your lip, keeping your mouth shut. Excited calls from the other fans make him smile widely. 

You keep your place near the back, slowly building up courage and thinking out what you're going to say. You certainly don't want to look like an idiot when you meet one of your heroes. 

"Nice bracelets." The voice of a girl pulls you from your thoughts. 

"Oh, thank you." You say, turning to see her. She has short black hair, blue eyes and pale skin. 

"Yeah. I love Panic! At the Disco. Their music is amazing."

"For real, they're so good!"

The two of you share small talk until it's her turn. For twelve people each getting fifteen minutes, time went by very fast. She talks to him excitedly, something that he reciprocates. Another wave of anxiety comes over you. Your heart speeds up, your hands get a little sweaty. Holy shit! You're actually meeting him.You fight the urge to scratch at your wrist.

Finally, it's your turn. 

You go up to the table with an anxious smile on your face. He smiles back. 

"Hi there!" He says. "I'm so glad you won."

"Thank you!" You say, sitting down in the chair. "I actually brought something."

"Oh thank you! That's awesome."

You pull out the small framed collage, placing it on the table with the enveloped letter on top. There's a small stack of stuff on the other side of him. He carefully sets the envelope to the side, now examining the poster. 

"Wow! This is so good!" He exclaims. "Did you draw this?"

You can only nod shyly. 

"This is great, really. Thank you." 

"You're welcome."

The two of you talk for the rest of the time. He signs a couple of things for you, and you take a few pictures. At the end, you want to take a funny selfie for your instagram. While taking the picture, your bracelets slide up your arm. Your heart stops for a split second when you see a fresher scar. You pull back the bracelets immediately, and play it off as soon as possible. 

But it was too late, Paul saw some of the scars. His face falls into something more solemn, concerned almost. He opens his mouth to say something, but he was interrupted. 

"Alright everyone! It is time to move on to the next event."

Paul put a smile on his face, but he gave you a worried glance at you while he stood up. He walks by Sophia as you're led through the building. The interior continued to take your breath away. Postmodern design flooded your sight as everyone crams into an elevator. 

You're taken up a few floors and the elevator opens to a small room with vests and guns attached to said vests. A blank scoreboard hangs proudly above everything. You glance around. Everyone is sporting grins. 

"Let's do girls against boys!" Olivia, the girl you were talking to before, exclaims. 

"You sure?" One of the guys pipes up. "I think there are more guys than girls," 

"There's like one more guy. We should do at least one battle of the sexes." She grins. 

"I'm cool with it," A woman in her mid twenties smirks. 

"Me too," You shrug. More murmurs of agreement spread through the group.

“Alright, suit up everyone. Girls will be red and boys will be green." Sophia says. 

"I will leave you to Ralph, he is our resident lazer tag expert." 

"Alright everyone, your goal is to destroy the other team’s base. You do that by destroying the power supply in the deepest part of the opposing team’s base. It looks like a dinosaur egg off of Jurassic Park, and it lights up. I have a few ground rules. No fighting, no sprinting, no food or drink near the equipment. But most importantly, have fun! There are large towers on each side where you have to charge your gun. Your vest will beep at you when you need to recharge. Good luck. Boys, enter to the left, girls on your right." With Ralph ending his spiel, everyone hustles into the room. 

You follow behind one of your teammates to the back of the base. The room is absolutely massive. There's a large structure running through the middle of the floor with at least four sets of stairs. The supporting poles are lit up by green and red lights. You clutch your gun to your chest. It's not the very first time you're playing laser tag, but it is the first time in a long while. 

You go off on your own, jogging up the stairs on the large structure. You speed walk quietly, ducking behind large foam covers that were spread sporadically throughout the entire floor when you suspect one of the boys had spotted you.You climb to the top. You hold your gun by your thigh, keeping your finger on the trigger. Slowly walking in circles, you try to spot the egg like power supply that Ralph had described on the ground below. 

Suddenly, someone bumped into you. You jump, barely holding back a yelp. 

"Oh, my god. I’m so sorry." Olivia quickly apologized. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, you just scared the shit out of me though," You laugh. 

"I'm sorry... Y/N, right?" 

"Yeah yeah yeah, and you're Olivia, right?"

"Mhm, what are you looking for?"

"I'm trying to find the power supply." 

"Same girl. I think I saw it over there." She says, gesturing to your left. "But I'm not sure."

"Let's go check it out."

The two of you venture to the left, moving as quickly and quietly as before. Soon enough, you're able to spot the power supply through the guard rails. Only one guy is standing guard. You share a small low-five and split up to attack it. 

Olivia jogs down the stairs to ground level and you go to the second floor for better range. 

You crouch close to the floor, poking your gun through the guard rails and wait until you see Olivia come up behind the guard and start shooting. You join her immediately, and together you almost destroy it. However, your gun runs out of charge. 

Cursing under your breath, you jog as fast as you can (almost running) down to a charging base, where you run into Olivia again. 

"Dude, that was fucking crazy." She laughs. "We almost had them."

Laughing breathlessly, you agree. "For real though. We got them this time. Same plan?"

"Hell yeah,"

"What plan?" A new voice cuts in. The woman in her mid twenties pops up out of nowhere. 

"We found their supply. I went low and she went to the second floor. If we have one more person, I think we got this. We'll have to hurry though."

A grin spreads on the woman's face. "Let's do it. I'll head to the first floor on the other side."

The three of you jog together back to the same place as before. You show the woman where to go, then you leave to go up one floor. 

Once again, you start to shoot when Olivia does. The woman joins in soon after. 

You hear the guards frustrated cries as he tries to fend off all three of you at once. A few of the other guys come running back, but it was too late. Girls won! 

You laugh, throwing your hands up. "Hell yeah!" 

Olivia cheers, and the woman whoops. The lights come on, making you wince.

"Game over. Red team has claimed their victory! Congratulations, ladies!" Ralph's voice comes over intercoms you didn't know were there. 

You make your way down to ground level, meeting up with the other women. You congratulate each other. 

"Let's do it again! Same team?”

The lot of you end up playing three more games: girls vs. boys, old people vs. young people, and Paul vs. Everyone else. Boys won, young people won, and the last one was a tie. (You and Olivia ended up teaming up with Paul anyways, but no one else needs to know that.)

After that, everyone was crammed into an elevator yet again. This time smelling a lot less pleasant after running and sneaking around.

All of you are lead to another floor. This one resembled a movie theater more than anything else. A huge table of food is set up in front of the door to the screening room. 

Everyone begins to get their dinner, most of them being hungry from the hour and a half spent running around in the dark shooting at each other. 

Before you could grab a plate, however, someone places a hand on your shoulder. You turn to see Paul standing behind you.

You smile up at him. "Hi."

"Hey. I wanna talk to you, could we step out?" That look of concern from before is etched onto his face. 

"Sure," You say, the slightest bit of hesitation seeping into your voice. You step into a smaller, unoccupied corner of the hall. Before you can ask any questions, he starts speaking. 

"Look, I don't know your situation, I don't know you, and I don't know what you've been through, but I saw your wrist. I know what it's like to be low, and I just wanted to tell you that it gets better. Everything is going to work the way it's meant to. Everything is going to be okay. And if you need help, don't be afraid to ask. Mental pain is just as serious and debilitating as physical pain is. I hate to see anyone go through this, especially my fans."

Tears prick at you eyes at his words. No one has ever taken you aside and spoken to you like this before. All the anxiety and trepidation leaves your body, and your left with this warmth and reassurance. 

You can only bite your lip and nod. He smiles again and opens his arms. You hug briefly before leaving the corner and getting your food. 

Everything after that is all smiles and laughter. The food is some of the best you've ever had; they certainly spared no expense. 

The movie is incredible. You have no doubt in your mind that you'll save your tips and take your mom to see it one night after it comes out.

Truth be told, you're sad this is over. You want to do more with everyone, but you're so undeniably grateful that you got this opportunity. More pictures are taken, social media is exchanged, and soon you're all on your separate ways home.

When you get home, you pass out on your face, shoes barely kicked off your feet. You never expected to wake up to what you did though. 

A DM from Paul Rudd. 

Hey Y/N! It was so nice meeting you! I'm so glad you had the opportunity to attend the event. It's always so wonderful to spend time with fans. I wanted to tell you that your collage is amazing! You have a real knack for art. You should definitely keep it up if you can. Thank you for sharing your story in the letter. It really moved me. I also wanted to let you know one last time that things do get better, things do improve. Stay strong for yourself and your future. You got this.

((Had a ninjago fan season idea that takes place after s13 and semi centers around Kai ninjago. This seasons theme: Vacation gone wrong! I have segmented it into episodes for convenience. I uh, may or may not dedicate some time to drawing content for this thing, so I apologize in advance. ((also it is. a long post.

Episode 1 - Answering machine going off and its’ Ronins voice over the machine: 'Looks like I’m gonna run late.. ugh this whole thing is falling apart isn't it. But we'll make it work. I got you a ferry to take you there, one of the cruise ships. It was the least I could do for now... I'll meet you there, I promise.'     >Cuts to Dareth on the boat, taking him and the rest of the people to ‘Aves Isle’.    >While everyone is getting off, Dareth helps a naga lady with carrying some of her stuff because Dareth ninjago.    >Naga ladys' name is 'Olive', she is a semi native. She starts talking about the islands' history. 'there used to be a temple but we don't know what happened to it, but it sunk into the ground.    >two investigate the area because Dareth has time to wait on Ronin.    >Upon finding whats’ left of the area and entering, the atmosphere changes and inflicts a weird curse or whatever.    >Dareth starts getting progressively more pushy Episode 2 - After s13 Wu wants to do more adventures so the bounty is just flying wherever the wind takes it I guess w/e {{Also realized I didn’t write much for Wu this entire rest of the story so I am assuming he’s having a grand ol’ time being on vacation}}    >wow it is night time, the bounty is flying in    >The crew ask where they are and Zane starts to go on his normal informative spiel before getting cut off.    >Oh there’s a thing on the radar. What the heck is that thing flying towards us OH GOD THAT’S A BIG ANGRY DRAGON    >Bounty has two smaller 'runner' boats? I guess? marketing. Two of the ninja hop on those and fly off.    >Zane and Jay distract the dragon so the bounty can safely land but it turns out there are two dragons and Jay gets taken down first. Yay soft landing.    >Bounty makes it safely over the fences that are on the island    >Zane gets taken out.    >Cuts back to Dareth and Olive still rooting around. activates something and wow a lava fountain. the ground is glowing in weird markings!    >Dareth snaps at Olive and she wells up and runs away and Dareth snaps out of it temporarily like 'oh crud why did I do that I didn't mean to be so bossy' and goes after her    >Olive gets overtaken and now: pointy.    >Dareth tries to stop her but she jumps into the portal lava whatever? hole?? not sure.    >He, of course, jumps in after.    >Fire Dareth.    >Random golden-looking platform chained to the bottom of the hole they are in. ominous voice: hey how about you get these locks free and we'll rebuild the temple? nice.    >Temple platform rises    >Zane gets tossed into an area? park? fenced in something or another??    >oh hi Jay    >oh community service sorting trash from recyclables? can do.

Episode 3 - The remaining ninja visit the two who are in 'time out' before deciding to have a look around the island.    >They take a nice walk down the beach Cole reminisces about the time Kai was extremely afraid of water    >Kai frowns as a laugh track is played. Claims he has gotten better at it but screams when Nya splashes him.    >Zane and Jay are done with service and its like 'okay how about we try to get out again?’    >Zane suggests doing it in the broad daylight since the dragons went out at night and may be nocturnal    >they try    >they get taken out again    >another round of community service    >sees another aircraft fall out of the sky    >guard: wow more property damage.    >sundown. lloyd notices that something strange is happening with some of the residents randomly getting more nippy and then not. strange. (Ninja get into an arguments with the locals or whatever)    >Stop by community service area    >Jay is now frustrated    >rest recuperate at where they parked the bounty    >Nya: well nothing is really going on here we can probably leave once the two are done breaking the law     >Ronin shows up to the area and is greeted sourly by Jay ninjago

Episode 4 - The ninja are ready to leave when they notice a weird ominous structure that wasn't there before.    >Crew investigate    >oh its hot. you can go in, Kai ninjago    >kai enters    >oh frick fire dareth    >kai ninjago, walking out and is krispy: there is a problem.    >three get out of service    >ronin asks if the little runner ships are 'truly' important    >hekcin steals their engine or whatever    >regroup at the bouty    >Kai: hey uhh, Dareth is peeved haha, I don't get it though he and I hang out every now and then.    >Ronin, internally: oh god he's really mad I didn't follow plans to a T-    >the ninja exchange awkward glances of guilt    >decide it'd be best to talk to him tomorrow, or try to. Also, more people are randomly getting upsetti, Jay is still frustrated.

Episode 5 - jay still has a bad attitude. lloyd is also starting to get upset. Cole tries to diffuse the situation but it causes the two to point their noses up at each other in silent anger. great.    >Kai enters in the temple again, which is even more built than it was before.   >Dareth being snarky   >kai apologizes and tells him he wasn't aware of it, and that he thought the two were good friends, reminding him of the times they hung out outside of mission things.   >Dareth calms down a bit   >finds a reason to be mad again.   >Ronin shows up   >'ronin?'   >''Told you I'd meet you here, what didn't you believe me? not really much of a vacation. How about we get some fresh air?"   >Dareth approaches   >oh no he's really hot.   >cheek caress with the robotic arm. gae.   >two head out. Room is no longer unbearably hot. good!   >squad enters in. goes into one of the inner chambers   >oh look the towns people overtaken by rage are building. nice.   >oh no jay and lloyd are fighting again.   >grabs attention of workers.   >the ninja get their butts handed to themselves, and lose Jay and lloyd in the process. nice   >cuts to Ronin and Dareth walking on the beach.   >Ronin smooth talking, normal Ronin behvior   >Flames and whatever fade from Dareth and he snaps out of it completely and immediately starts pouring out how he feels bad about being rude to Olive and whatever the bad guy is and what the plans of the temple are.   >Ronin: maybe we should tell the ninja. I don't want us to get involved anymore.

Episode 6 - Ronin informs the ninja of what's up.   >Nya: oh no we gotta stop this !   >Dareth: I want to help.   >Ronin: no we are on vacation we shouldn't have to; leave it up to them.   >Dareth: no I started this, this is my fault, I have to make it up to Olive and everyone <:(   >Ronin: :/   >Zane: we should focus on. not making the locals angry because that seems to draw them towards the temple.   >Ninja proceed to do good deeds, while part of them break off to do research   >learn about the bad guy dunn dun dunn!

episode 7 - Kai ninjago somehow is the one keeping the most level head out of everyone here and things get tense again. is it potentially out of character? Well he's mad that lloyd and jay are overtaken but he's doing a good job at self control.   >cuts to lloyd and Jay   >lloyd: this is dumb! why are we helping!? We're supposed to be stopping this!   >Jay: we're helping because YOU dragged us into this with your plan!   >argue. great   >bad guy laughing or whatever, oh the voice has a physical form that's manifesting from the heat of the temple. 'Good, soon I will be reborn and reclaim the island!'   >Olive inform him that Dareth has broken the spell   >bad guy furious and confused but is also like 'whatever we have a lot more important things to worry about'   >Nya and Zane are stepping on each others' toes.   >ronin and Dareth relay what they learned.   >kai sitting in the bounty looking disheveled   >'Human pinata makes the kids happy'. Horrifying.   >story about how the bad guy was dispersed after 'other beings' landed on the island and taught he locals the importance of peace and not war or whatever. It was probably some Oni and dragons chillin.   >Cole: oh! I mean we have two 'other beings' and those are the dragons, but they seem really angry and territorial   >Kai: maybe they want something and just haven't gotten it? ((Id have to mention one of the festivals known as the 'laughing dragon' festival or whatever but it's fallen into obscurity due to the dragons not being happy. Mention that sometime during episode 3))   >investigation time part 3.   >learn that there's a fruit that the dragons like, but the recipee was lost on how to make the disk for them   >well gang, time to get cooking! thank goodness Zane is on our-   >just kidding Zane and Nya are gone now because they got too angry at each other and went to 'get space' but they're probably at the temple now.

Episode 8 - Gotta do the cookin by the book!   >the ingredients are gathered.   >Dareth insists that they used a very speicific brand of exctact.   >Cole has no idea how to cook well   >Kai starts putting things together.   >Cole: when did you learn to cook?   >Kai: Well I had to take care of my sister buutt.. I dunno I think being the master of fire, cooking comes easy. ;)   >Cole: if there's any way I can help just let me know.   >kai: oh, yeah, bust open those things.   >Cole literally smashes open the fruit sending bits everywhere   >good ol happy comedic moment.   >first try   >Cole: . looks. uh. strange.   >Ronin: I am afraid to taste it.   >Dareth: oh I'm sure it can’t be- -face scrunch-   >Kai: <:)   >Dareth: well... I swallowed it.. at least..   >cuts to temple again   >bad guy is like 'we need more people how come everyone stopped coming?? someone needs to go out and start beating people up >:('   >Olive reports that the ninja were gathering ingredients for something or another   >Bad guy is like 'okay send some people there and stop them'

episode 9 - after the 5th attempt it's much more palatable so they make a larger batch and stick it in a boat all fancied up and now have to deliver it   >oh god angry people   >why are they looking at us hhh   >fite   >Kai: we legit cannot let any of this spill otherwise I'm going to scream.   >only way to get it away from the people is to go by ocean   >Ronin: we'll do what we can but you gotta do this kai. You're tough.   >kai: ahaha I still don't like water but!   >boat on water   >gets to the part outside of the gate   >oddly silent.   >kai proceeds to put it on the beach and starts calling out for the dragons and starts making noise or whatever. "im gonna kick your sand! haha! what are you going to do about it??'   >Dragons emerge, ready to fight   >sees the offering. Kai: it's okay it's okay, this is for you.   >backs away from the boat   >lets the dragons have it.   >the smaller one is curious about him and approaches him after   >good ol’ kai dragon interaction. yay confidence!

Episode 10 - wow I sure do hate this sorting plant by now, thinks Ronin ninjago.   >tossed in the sorting plant Cole: this isn't too bad. Dareth: yeah I thought we were going to be burned by the stake, haha! Ronin: oh you'll hate it soon enough.   >Dareth and cole exchange glances. Cole: oh I know, how about we do a song, get a beat going? I'm sure kai has things under control! Dareth: good idea! Keep the spirits high, huh?   >Olive informs that the offering made it out into the ocean   >bad guy says 'no fear the ocean probably will swallow it', both unaware that kai was on the boat.   >temple is nearing completion.   >the angry ninja attempt yet again, to try to make a plan to stop him.   >everyone has a different idea   >they don't work together and go do their own plans.   >lloyd tries to go after him directly   >jay attempts to use his powers to get the workers to stop and go after him   >nya yells at jay   >Zane attempts to take out Olive, with mild success, kicks her out of the temple.   >olive decides to visit in on the captives   >glares at Dareth   >Dareth proceeds to apologize profusely   >Olive is stunned and snaps out of it, sorta. moment of clarity   >apologizes for stopping their plan about the dragons. gives more detail about the situation inside the temple before getting ready to head back.   >ronin. heckin. kidnaps her w/e He wants answers, and also doesn't want her relaying the information she gathered back to the bad guy. Dareth: oh my GOD did you KILL her?? Ronin: :B no messengers.

Episode 11 - The dragons fly overhead and do their little dance and show and yaay, the people are happy!   >people working on the temple stop and notice in awe and decide to go outside to have a look.   >bad guy takes notice and a n g r y, number of the workers stop and go enjoy the show. Some even going to their work areas and getting snacks and things like a festival. Bad guy: where is my messenger?! How did this happen?! steppin out. that's it, I'll deal with this personally.   >bad guy stands on his temple top whatever. Starts blasting fire balls.   >kai ninjago shooting fireballs back to deflect Locals: wow firework show!   >even more stop their progress.   >lloyd notices   >the rest of the ninja notice. lloyd: woah kai ninjago..! Nya: I don't know how long he can last doing that.. Zane: the power comes from the temple.. Jay: so we have to sink the temple!   >sink time   >as the temple starts to submerge again the fire balls become weaker   >bad guy adverts his attention to the ninja and decide to try to take them out   >Kai ninjago shows up and they have a fire bending battle not ripped from avatar at all Jay: kai you gotta get outta there the temple is collapsing! Kai: I will give me a minute!   >This is sparta kicks the dude into the portal thingy lava(?) and gets the heck outta there before everything falls in again.   >yaay, we won!   >mini celebration that's more like we gotta recover

Episode 12 - partially filler episode? w/e   >actual festival held   >good ol relaxing for real this time.   >Dareth: that was fun!   >Ronin: so much for a vacation, seems like trouble is always following you around.   >Dareth: thank god I have you to protect me from it all, huh?   >Ronin: wow gay   >Dareth: also why did you run late?   >Ronin: weeeeeell... that's a long story. B) I'll tell you on the flight back.   >Olive: how did you find the recipe for the thing?   >kai: I didn't I just... I mean, Well, when you have flare like me you tend to know how to make a good dish B)   >Cole: he guessed and messed up 5 times.   >Olive: oh-    >kai: >:( c o l e   >the ninja can actually leave now   >FFIV victory fanfare

Title: Changes - part eight Word count:  ±4800 words Summary “Changes”: Huntress Zoë Sullivan (OFC) crosses paths and swords with the Winchesters, when the brothers stumble on a case she’s already working. When complications arise, they are forced to work together. Summary part eight: Zoë meets with Terry Cliffer, or is it the shapeshifter? She tries to find out fast, but can’t prevent bullets from flying. Episode warnings: Dark! NSFW, 18+ only! Angst, gore, violence, character death. Description of blood, injury and medical procedures. Demon possession, supernatural creatures/entities. Smut, swearing, alcohol use/addiction. Kidnapping, mentions of torture and murder, illegal/criminal practices. Mentions of nightmares and flashbacks.  Music: Boulevard Of Broken Dreams - Greenday. Author’s note: I couldn’t be more excited to share Supernatural: The Sullivan Series with you. There are quite a few people I want to thank: @coffee-obsessed-writer, @soupornatural & @mrswhozeewhatsis, who edited the early drafts, and my girls @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish & @winchest09 who are deciphering the recent version. Everyone who encouraged me to go for it, you are awesome!

Supernatural: The Sullivan Series Masterlist 01x01 “Changes” Masterlist

     Zoë sips her cappuccino as she observes the foam floating on top of her hot drink. She’s at Beetle’s, sitting on a stool at the bar. Cigarette smoke fills the air, and even though she would love to light one, she ignores the smell. Instead the huntress stares at the bottles across from the counter, exhibited on the shelves, the back wall is a mirror to create the illusion that they have a lot more drinks in store. It’s a modern kind of place, the only history it shows are some pictures, pinned to the wall. The current number one hit Boulevard of Broken Dreams by Greenday plays in the background. She listens to the lyrics, the song appealing to her.      I walk this empty street, on the boulevard of broken dreams      Where the city sleeps and I'm the only one and I walk alone      My shadow's the only one that walks beside me      My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating      Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me      'Til then I walk alone

     The long nights are taking their toll. Although strangers still see a stunning young woman, she herself notices the signs of fatigue in her reflection, despite her makeup, that is a little more prominent than usual. Zoë finds it thrilling to pretend to be someone she’s not. She traded her leather biker outfit for a white blouse, a black blazer, matching suit pants and pumps. Her straightened dark hair is combed back and tied together in a bun. It’s funny, leather or business, she still gives away the same message; don’t mess with me. 

     Her eyes capture the bottle of Johnny Walker Red again. She would kill for a glass, but having a shot wouldn’t be a smart thing to do. Focus is the issue here; no way she’s letting her guard down. The damn bastard shot her once and she doesn’t feel like peeling a bullet out of herself for the second time today. But one glass wouldn’t hurt, right? Zoë shakes her head, deciding against it.           This appointment can go two ways: either the shapeshifter shows up and this bar and its customers are going to have the most ‘exciting’ evening of their lives, or Terry Cliffer shows up and this will be nothing more than a boring interrogation. Not to mention, this case will once again take longer than anticipated, because by now, the fucker could’ve easily shifted into someone else already. 

     She finishes her coffee and leaves the empty cup on the bar. Carefully, she glances over her shoulder. Zoë can’t put her finger on it, but she can feel a pair of eyes burning in her back; someone’s watching her. The shapeshifter maybe? She remembers Sam’s words and realizes that even if she meets Cliffer within fifteen minutes, the son of a bitch might actually be here right now. Suddenly, she hears something sweeping towards her over the wooden bartop. Startled, she turns to the bartender, who still has his hand folded around a glass of whiskey.      “You’ve been eying that Johnny Walker bottle for twenty minutes and you look really tense. You need a drink, on the house.”

     She looks him in the eye, trying to decide whether or not to trust him. She smiles politely and takes the glass, but doesn’t drink, just yet.      “Thank you,” she says, observing him. “You’re the owner of this place? Rob Michaels?”      “That’s me,” Rob answers while he polishes a glass.      We’ll see about that, Zoë thinks to herself. The bartender could be the shapeshifter, for all she knows. She needs to figure out if he is, without giving him the impression that she’s suspecting him.      “Then you probably know most of your regulars, right?” she questions.      “Right…” Rob hesitates. “Am I being questioned?”      “Whatever you wanna call it,” she flashes him her FBI identification.

     He raises his eyebrows. He thought there was something more to her than just a businesswoman who’s getting a drink after work, but a fed? He had city police over, even state police at one point, this is a new one. He leans in for her to hear his whispered words.      “Something shady going on in my bar?” he asks, looking around for anything suspicious.      She puts her ID away in the inside pocket of her blazer, after which she folds her hands together, ignoring his question. “What do you know about Terry Cliffer?”            Rob chuckles. “Are you kidding me? Terry wouldn’t hurt a fly.”      “We’re not just around to catch the bad guys, Mr. Michaels. We actually intend to prevent crimes from happening, too” she states, pretending to be insulted.      “Is he in trouble?” the bar owner wonders.      “I think I’m the one who’s doing the questioning here, Rob. Can I call you Rob?” Zoë grabs a hold of the conversation again, not impressed.      “S-sure,” he answers, intimidated.      She glances at the clock, it’s 5:55. Then she continues.      “Tell me what you know.”

     Zoë’s eyes are penetrating, yet calm and the bartender soon begins his story, but he doesn’t start off with anything new. Shy guy, father of two, yada yada yada. Her thoughts wander off to the whiskey bottle on the shelf again, as she partly listens. Shit, she wants that heavenly brown liquor, and she wants it bad. Although there’s a full glass in front of her, she still refuses to drink it. Zoë hasn’t actually seen him rinse the glass, nor if he poured the whiskey straight from the bottle; it could be spiked. The huntress contemplates on dragging him over the counter and cutting him; if he screams out in terror, he’s not the shifter, if he doesn’t, he is. Yeah, maybe not such a great idea, Zo, she thinks to herself. And all this time she keeps staring at the Johnny Walker Red.

     “He moved into town a few years back with his family. I believe he still owns some property about a mile or three out, though. Somewhere on 110th Ave,” Rob says with a lowered voice.      Suddenly there’s the sound of glass breaking. The bartender turns around and is surprised to find the bottle of whiskey in pieces on the floor.      “Ah, damn it! Must have left it too close to the edge,” he mutters as he kneels down to pick up the biggest pieces of shattered glass.      Startled, Zoë stares over the bar, recapturing what just happened. Did she just… Ah shit, not this again.      “That’s a shame,” she comments to break the silence.      “Sure is,” he agrees, but then pulls his hand back with a little screech. “Ow!”      He gets up and Zoë immediately detects the bleeding cut on his finger, which causes Rob to hiss in pain. A shapeshifter wouldn’t feel a thing when being cut by glass; so much for her theory. As if she was waiting for the lights to go green on a racetrack, she puts the glass to her mouth and lets the whiskey ooze down her throat. My God, she so needed a drink. 

     In the meantime Rob takes off to the kitchen, probably to bandage the cut. It’s when the door closes behind him, that his last words sink in. 110th Ave! Cliffer owned land there? She quickly gets her ducks in a row. She knows O’Brien, Middleton and Gibson, the missing people, have all been at 110th Avenue over the last month, but no one actually owned a place there. This might be a major lead! Why didn’t she learn about this sooner? She has to find the exact address and pay a visit as soon as she’s done here. 

     As the place gets more crowded during these after work hours, Terry Cliffer walks in. Zoë straightens her back and looks over the crowd. Insecure, the guy in his mid-forties searches the place, then he carefully approaches the bar. He’s not a tall man and he seems thin. It surprises Zoë that the shapeshifter chose his body to copy in the first place.       He glances behind the bar, probably looking for Rob to ask if there has been anyone around looking for him. By this time, Zoë has hopped off the bar stool and walked up to the guy. Her gun, loaded with silver bullets, hangs from her belt and burns in her flesh through the fabric of her dress pants. If he attacks, runs, or does something else that she doesn’t like, she’s going to shoot him.            “Terry Cliffer?”      He turns around and looks her in the eye. Not a sign of recognition. The shapeshifter would recognize her, after all, she is the one hunting him. Nothing strange, nothing out of the ordinary happens, he just puts out his hand to greet her.      “Are you the FBI agent?” he assumes, carefully.      “That would be me, yeah,” she takes out her federal agent identification again. “Shall we take a seat?”      They move to a table in the far corner and sit down. A good spot, one she picked out the moment she walked in. From here, she has a clear view over the entire place, yet it’s private. She signals Rob, who probably took care of his little problem and is back behind his bar. In a few seconds he halts next to their table.

     “What can I get you?” he takes out a pen and a small notebook.      “A beer, if that’s okay?” Terry glances at the woman across from the table.      “Be my guest,” she approves and looks up at Rob. “Plain water please.”      “Oh, and can I get something to eat? I didn’t actually get the chance to have dinner, yet.” The last sentence was more directed to Zoë than to the bar owner, excusing himself again in that self-conscious way.      “The usual?” the owner of the place asks.       Terry nods.      “Anything else?” Rob glances from one to the other.      “No, I think we’re fine,” Zoë answers.      “Okay then, coming right up.”

     Rob leaves the table and finally Zoë can start her conversation. She begins with an attempt to break the ice, since Terry seems to be pretty tense. It’s not every day that you have a one-on-one with an FBI agent.      “Not planning to have supper with your family?” she assumes.      “Not today, my wife took the kids to their grandparents for the week, down in Preston,” Terry tells her.      Good, they are safe, Zoë notes. She folds her hands together leaning on her forearms on the edge of the table, ready to start the interrogation, but Terry beats her to it.      “I don’t want to be rude, but I expected to meet a man today,” he admits with a nervous laugh.      “Right, I heard you talked to my partner. He called in sick,” she makes up quickly.       “It was really odd, he didn’t know your name,” Terry tells her. “For a moment, I thought I was being pranked or something.”

     Uh-oh. Is he suspecting something? She has to come up with something good now to keep a good impression.      “I actually got married a week ago,” she lets a smile play on her lips, turning her mother’s engagement ring on her finger, drawing attention to the piece of jewelry.       “I changed surnames. What can I say, he doesn’t like change.”      “Congratulations!” Terry smiles back, seemingly buying it.      Pfew, that was a close call. Now it’s her turn to ask some questions, because all she has been doing during the last five minutes is covering the Winchester’s fuck ups. Just as she takes a breath to begin, Rob shows up next to the table with their drinks and a cutlery set for Terry. Zoë lets out an annoyed sigh and looks away.

     “One beer and plain water.”      He puts down the glasses from his dinner-tray, which he holds up with his left hand. As he sets down Terry’s beer, the meat knife slips from the plate and falls, the sharp edge pointing down. Zoë looks up just in time to see the knife penetrate the hand of the man she’s about to negotiate. She almost lets out a moan of disgust, but strangely enough, Terry doesn’t even notice it until he glances at his hand.      “Terry, Jesus Christ! I’m so sorry, it - it just fell off!” Rob stammers, but neither of them hear him.      It’s not a silver knife, it’s stainless steel, Zoë realizes instantly. Slowly the person  - no - creature, on the other side of the table lifts his head until he looks directly at her. His facial expression is no longer insecure and friendly, but self-confident and sadistic. For a brief moment his eyes flash white, as the eyes of a cat reflect when it stares into a pair of headlights.

     “You son of a--”      There’s no time to finish her sentence. In a split second, the shapeshifter draws his gun and Zoë is just in time to flip the metal table over on the side. She goes for her Smith & Wesson as well, as the shapeshifter backs up, causing his chair to fall over. Several people turn around to see what’s going on as Rob turns pale and steps back. Just before he unleashes a bullet on her, she shouts a warning.      “Everybody on the floor!”            As screams are let out by people inside the bar, the shifter fires two bullets at her, but by using the steel table as a shield, she stays unharmed.      “No way you’re gonna shoot me twice, fucker,” she snarls as she aims her gun over the edge of the table and pulls the trigger.      Making sure not to injure any civilians, Zoë fires three shots in a row. She’s not sure if any of them hit the target, but he’s still running.      “Fuck!” she curses as the third shot shatters the glass of the front door.

     Quickly, she follows and intends to run outside. Good thing she takes cover behind the doorpost as she glances around the corner, because the huntress stares right into a barrel. Just in time, she retreats and the two bullets shoot by her. Stumbling back inside, she takes a short second to catch her breath with her back against the wall and her gun tightly gripped in both hands and pointing it down. Several frightened and panicked eyes look straight at the FBI impersonator. One face stands out, Rob stares at her as if he just saw a ghost.      “I hope you’ve got insurance, Rob,” she comments, out of breath from all the excitement.      He nods his head, dumbfounded, unable to get a proper ‘yes’ or ‘no’ out of his mouth.      “Good, have a nice evening. Sorry ‘bout the mess.” She smiles uncomfortably and gives him an awkward wave.

      After gathering her courage, the huntress exits the bar. With the gun pointing ahead and her index finger off the trigger, Zoë clears the area, but there’s no one there but a bunch of thrill seekers who probably heard the gunshots. Zoë lets out a sigh and lowers her nine mil; she’s back to square one. There’s no need to follow him, he could be anywhere and anyone by now. She moves back to the small alleyway next to the bar where she parked her Harley, still expecting an ambush behind every corner. When she walks up the street, she notices a shiny fluid on the sidewalk, which catches her attention. Curious she kneels down and touches it with the tip of her finger; it’s blood. A grin appears on her face; looks like she managed to hit him after all. 

     When she looks further she notices a blood trail leading to a manhole in the center of the alley. The shifter left the cover off, allowing the huntress to stare down into the black depth.      “Hope my bullet hurts as much as yours did, fucking lizard!” she bellows down.      Zoë gets up and makes her way to the Harley, thinking through her next move and forcing herself to focus, even though the adrenaline is still rushing through her body. Terry Cliffer’s property at 110th Avenue; that is her first priority. She would bet money on it: this has to be the location of the shapeshifter’s lair.

     It’s quiet in the parking lot when Zoë pulls up to the motel, but she doesn't pay much attention to the silence, determined to close this case tonight. She rushes inside while taking her helmet off, doesn’t bother to pay attention to the man behind the counter and quickly opens the door to her room. Her Macbook is still buzzing softly and as soon as she presses a key, the screen activates. She selects a tracking website from her favorites and types in the information she has. After several seconds a complete address shows: 3841 110th Avenue NW. Quickly she kicks off her pumps, changes her dress pants for jeans and her blazer for the new leather Harley Davidson jacket. As she’s lacing up her biker boots, when three loud bangs on the door startle her. Cautious, the huntress takes her gun in her left hand, finger still off the trigger, and silently approaches the door.      “Mrs. Johnson! I know you’re in there!”            She recognizes that voice, it’s the owner of the motel. Quickly she puts away her weapon and opens the door. The old man is waiting with a phone still in his hand, he doesn’t seem amused.      “I just received a call from one of my guests who was dining at Beetle’s Bar, said he saw you shooting up the place,” he recalls.      “I can explain that,” she states, calmly.      “I bet you can. You know what? I’ll bet your real name isn’t even Johnson. I want you out. I said I didn’t want any trouble,” he insists, pointing down the hallway.      “Just give me a sec.” She goes for her ID in her inside pocket while her other hand makes a calming gesture, then she shows it to him.      “My name isn’t Johnson, you’re right. It’s Evans, Sarah Evans. I’m a federal agent and I was working undercover,” she explains.      “FBI? Yeah, right. I don’t give a damn. Now, get out of my motel,” the man decides.      “Alright, let me get my stuff,” she sighs, putting back her identification.

     Instead of pulling back her hand empty, she grabs a small flashlight, turns it on and points it in the old man’s eyes. Her suspicion is confirmed, because his eyes flash white. For a brief moment the shapeshifter is overwhelmed by the reveal, enough time for Zoë to drop the flashlight into her striking hand, breach the space between them and slam her fist right up his nose, giving him one hell of an uppercut. He goes down in the hallway and looks up at her, staggered.      “Come on. Did you really think I was gonna be that easy?” she chuckles, flipping the torch up in the air and catching it skillfully.

     She grabs him by the collar and drags him inside her room, shifting the fight between four walls instead of on the corridor, not wanting innocent bystanders to get caught in the crossfire. She drops him to the ground, glaring down on him with disgust as she takes her gun from behind her waistband. The shifter clears his throat, wiping crimson red from his lip.      “Actually, I did. I almost shot you twice. Reckoned this would be a piece of cake,” he gloats with a grin, after which he struggles to get on his feet, holding his hands up. “You wanna shoot me in a fully booked motel? Try to explain that to the neighbors.”      Zoë narrows her eyes at him, mentally kicking herself for leaving the gun suppressor in her storage locker the last time she was there. The bastard has a point; shooting what looks like the owner of Motel 6 through the heart, will definitely draw attention. She scoffs, pursing her lips, then she takes the magazine from her weapon and lays it on the bed.      “We’ll finish this the old fashioned way, then,” she agrees confidently.

     They face each other, challenging. Zoë adjusts to a back stance, putting her left foot behind her and bending her knees slightly. Her hands lift up in front of her face as she flexes her fingers, ready for anything that son of a bitch is going to throw at her.       “I have to say, you got me fooled. Making me believe Terry Cliffer was going to be your next dress-up party, while he actually was your first. Smart,” she admits.      “If you admire me so much, why waste me?” he tests, blood dripping from his nose.      She smirks at that, entertained by his arrogance. “Don’t give yourself too much credit.”

     He steps towards her, but she beats him to it. In a quick move she defends, blocking his attack with her forearm and swings her back leg up with force, kicking the shifter hard against his temple. He goes down, shaking his head to ward off the black spots that are inevitably swimming in front of his eyes. When he looks up, the huntress has taken her rear foot stance again. One fist with her palm up on her hip and ready to strike, the other is ready in front of her to defend.       “Gotta say, you fight pretty good for a girl,” He gets to his feet again, wiping his brow. “Or should I call you the Karate Kid?”      “Oh, I’m not a kid. I’m more like a ninja,” she smirks, staring him down.        “Ninja or not, you’re no match for me.”

     He charges her, faster than humanly possible. Despite his supernatural speed, she dodges his jab and releases another kick, against his ribs this time. The creature locks her leg before she can retreat, however, and steps in while Zoë has lost her balance. With a fierce strike, his fist hits her in the jaw, hard. He still has a hold of her leg and twists it, forcing her on the floor, pulling a groan of agony from her as the ligaments in her knee stretch further than possible. Not giving up that easily, she pushes her left foot from the ground, using the leverage of him still holding her right leg tight to swing the other to his head, hitting him on the side of his face with her instep. He releases her and she breaks her fall, rolls, and gets up again, all in one swift movement. The arm that had a strong grip on her only seconds ago, is now twisted to the shifter’s back. Roughly, she  forces him to his knees; he can't go anywhere. 

     “What did you do to those people?” she demands, not asking very nicely.      “Oh, don’t worry, I don’t actually kill them. It’s far more fun to watch them suffer,” he responds, sadistically.      “You son of a—”      She doesn’t have time to finish her sentence, because the shapeshifter throws his head back and hits her hard in the teeth. Sharp pain shoots through the roots into her skull and for a moment there she’s sure he broke off a tooth or two; so much for looking fabulous.       In that split second, the chameleon manages to fight free, grabs her by her arm and violently throws her over his shoulder. Zoë lands on her back, the air slamming out of her lungs. She gasps sharply, unable to catch her breath. No time to recover from the pain, though, because she receives a kick in the gut a moment after. 

     Losing control over the fight fast, she tries to push away from her attacker to buy herself some valuable time, but her opponent takes the liberty to help her up, forcing her to stand by pulling her hair, before she suffers a blow in the chest with a strength that exceeds that of a human being. The huntress slams into the table, the edge bruising her lower back, feeling the tight grip of the shifter's hands on her throat when he roughly pushes her into the wooden surface.       With a devilish grin on his thin lips, he chokes her, clearly enjoying the display: how his victim fights for air, trying to pull in desperate breaths as he crushes her throat under his fingers.  

     “You know what I do to them? I keep them somewhere safe, safe from the world, where no one can find them,” he tells her, his speech eerily slow, as if he’s reading a chapter of a horror novel.      Zoë glances aside briefly. Although she can’t move her head, she notices the empty whiskey bottle she and Dean left last night, still laying on its side in the window sill. She reaches out, almost touching the glass, but the bottle remains out of reach by an inch or two. The shapeshifter laughs at her attempt and continues his story, as if he has all the time in the world to tell it.      “Humans are such strange creatures, you know? If you keep them together in a tiny cage for a while, they tend to behave like spiders. They attack each other, eventually kill and actually eat their own kind out of pure desperation. How amusing is that?”

     Zoë can’t hold back a gag, but forces herself to concentrate on the bottle. It vibrates almost unnoticeable, then the bottleneck turns towards her slightly. Focus, Zo! You can do this! She sends all her energy through her stretched out arm towards the nerve endings on her fingertips. It works, because the bottle flies into her hand. With an unexpected strike Zoë breaks the bottle on the shifter’s head, who stumbles back, finally letting go of her neck. Trying to suck oxygen down her painful windpipe, she coughs uncontrollably. Alright, that’s enough. A fair fight seems noble and all, but having a face off with a supernatural being, might not have been one of her smartest ideas. The huntress reaches for her gun and takes the magazine from the bed, swings around, aiming at… nothing? The room is empty.      “Fuck, not again,” she curses, bummed that she can’t put twenty years of jujitzu training in good use because of the runner.

     Before bolting out the door, the experienced huntress glances both ways down the hallway, her gun ready. Shit. No sign of the shifter. She lets out a frustrated sigh and  moves in, rolling her tongue over her straight teeth in the meantime, checking if they got chipped after the nasty headbutt she received.       When she clears the foyer, she is surprised to find the real motel owner, tied up to a chair in nothing more than a shirt and trunks, his mouth taped.      “Are you alright?” she asks, as he ‘hmm’s’ loudly.      In a quick movement she rips the tape from his mouth, unleashing a rant of curses and shouts.      “Ouch! That son of a bitch! Where is he?! Where is that bastard who did this to me?! I’m gonna kill him! I swear, I’m gonna--”

     Zoë stares at him for a moment, feeling a headache coming on, then grabs the roll of duct tape from the counter. While the manager keeps on raging, she rips off a piece of tape and presses it over his mouth. There is no way in the world she’s gonna release the pissed off elder; he needs some cooling down time. Casually she picks up the phone and for a moment considers dialling 911, but decides this isn’t really that much of an emergency and calls the local police.      “Hello? Yeah, hi. I just found an old guy tied up to a chair in not much more than his undies… Motel 6, 2107 Highway 52 North... My name? Yeah, it’s Not Interested.”       She hangs up and clears her throat, wiping her prints from the horn, then walks away, bored, with the roll of duct tape in her hand, leaving the furiously moaning motel owner behind the counter.

     Back in her room, she gathers her things and stuffs them in two duffels, which fit into the two big leather saddlebags on her Harley perfectly. She makes quick work of getting rid of all the evidence, including the glass she shattered on the shifter’s head. With both bags on her shoulder, she takes a last look around and leaves the room, waving at the motel manager on her way out while hiding her face from the security camera.       The cover of the manhole in the center of the parking lot is removed; her shifter went underground again. He's running back to his hideout, only he doesn't know that she knows exactly where that is.      “3841 110th Avenue Northwest,” she mumbles to herself as she gets on her bike and puts the helmet on her head.

     That’s where she’s going, that’s where this is going to end. The Harley engine roars loudly when she accelerates. Its back tire spins for a moment before the motorbike takes off as the evening sets in. This is going to be her last night in Rochester and his last night on the face of the earth. Zoë is determined: this hunt ends tonight.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to reblog my work or buy me coffee (Link in bio at the top of the page).

Read part nine here

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FULLMETAL ALCHEMIST 2003 LIVE REACT: EPISODES 6-10

back at it again with the white vans

episode 6: the alchemy exam

alrighty then

um mustang calling edward “ed” is EXTREMELY offputting

ohhhhhhh noooooo not shou tucker

FUCK

im wholly unprepared

them all being in central instead of east is low key jarring like my brain isnt computing it

alexander’s intro is basically the same 

nina bbyyyyy girl u deserved so much better

ed is such a fucking nerd...chemistry club modern au confirmed

god the more tucker talks the more i wanna beat his face in

al pretending to eat by tossing a potato in his armor i-

aww theyre playing in the snow theyre so pure

wonder how long thatll last

“bigger brother” and “little big brother” and ed doesnt even get mad

ed’s birthday party????????

A MELON? ED YOURE SO RUDE

so 03 had ed’s bday instead of elicia’s...CAUSE THEY GOT ELICIA IN THE WOMB

“it’s here!” “the tea?” “the baby!” hughes is a fuck head

ok so now they’re having elicia replace rush valley baby arc

this was winry’s time to shine in fmab i miss her 

if winry isnt here who is gonna birth this baby

oh my god they just realized ed can use alchemy without a circle

no wonder he’s been using circles this whole time

SO ELICIA JUST POPPED OUT????? WHAT

STUFF ALEXANDER IN THE ARMOR AND PRETEND YOURE A TALKING DOG???

“i dont think thats very funny” NO ALPHONSE IT IS NOT

THEY KNEW EXACTLY WHAT THEY WERE DOING WITH THAT ONE I SWEAR TO GOD IN THIS ESSAY I WILL

damn bradley what up homie

im so thrown off by the way theyre doing the exam omg

seriously what the hell is fuhrer bradley’s purpose right now is he even the fuhrer in this i feel like they wouldve mentioned it

oh lord ed is about to impress everyone with his clappy hands

ok so next episode is nina FUCK

episode 7: night of the chimera’s cry

havoc babeeee

im gonna marry him my himbo king

also can RIZA DO SOMETHING PLZ

“huhhhhhhhh nina” ew tucker that was weirdly gross

wonder why

cant do it cant do it

do we think jean kirstein was modeled after jean havoc slightly looks wise

was that purposeful 

ill have to google 

serial killer who only targets women?  it cant be scar...scar drinks respect women juice

barry or slicer bros maybe? um ok

why did we start with liore if they were just gonna hop right back into the past for a huge chunk of episodes idk

assessment day??? oh noodles

AL WHY DID YOU TELL TUCKER TO MAKE ANOTHER TALKING CHIMERA ALPHONSE NO

THE NOISE I EMITTED IM GONNA TAKE A LAP

im gonna FUCKING SCREAM

ed r u writing to winry??? that’s a bit out of character for u good sir

no tucker put that baby down

im gonna fucking SCREAM

aww he burned nina’s picture thats not sus at all

SHESKA!!!!!

wait does the ironblood alchemist know what tucker did to his wife? thats kinda the vibe im getting

SCARRRRRRRR

looking like a pirate too damn

his voice sounds different is that j michael tatum 

apparently not it was dameon clarke in 03 ya learn something new everyday 

ew elicia has a lot of hair for a FUCKING NEWBORN

ed really is such a cynic very suspicious of everyone as he should be really

basque grand knowS SOMETHING

oh jesus oh fuck oh god please do not TOUCH THAT BABY

ed and al snuck back in to the house well u know what its for the best

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

im gonna cry again please god no

FUCKING DIE SHIT HOLE

she’s hurting? oh my god

my sweet angel

ew his eyes!!!!!!! 

tucker is such a fucking failure...like look at the chimera squad and greed’s theatre troupe being the way they are. ugh it really hits how fucking unfair it is 

ed was really about to split them? boy you know better

where is nina going...im hurting

ed really tried to save her in this one

SCAR KILLS NINA IN THE STREETS???????? SIR

thats different

oh snap 

oh FUCK

SCAR WHY DID YOU LEAVE HER BODY LIKE THAT

THE WAY SHE WAS ARRANGED ON THE WALL THAT WAS FUCKED UP

AND THEY FOUND HER LIKE THAT???? AT LEAST IN BROTHERHOOD THEY DIDNT HVE TO SEE HER CORPSE ARE YOU SHITTING ME?

that was fucked.

episode 8: the philosopher’s stone

can yall get ed and al away from nina’s fucking MURAL 

get out of the car mustang

finally jesus christ

roy mustang talking about healthy coping mechanisms dont make me laugh but alright baby boy go off i guess?

im curious about who this goddamn serial killer is though lets turn to that plot thread

r u kidding me

mustang is making ed and al take over tucker’s research?? thats actually wildly messed up

oh tucker was straight executed that’s a choice i guess

tucker and the philosopher’s stone sounds inaccurate but ok

ed please stop being mean to your brother

03 mustang has got me reaching for a fucking baseball bat on GOD

scar and edward having this conversation right now i literally cannot

WINRY yes bitch

BRADLEY WHAT IN TARNATION

JESUS LORRRRRRDDDDDDDDDDDD

alphonse shut your mouthhhhhhhhhhh

im so confused what is bradley up to

“alchemists are not cold blooded murderers?”

i mean

kimblee would beg to differ for one

whos this creepy lady 

her voice sounds familiar

barry’s food shop?

the killer is barry ok got it

IS BARRY DISGUISED AS A WOMAN

I KNEW THAT WAS JERRY JEWELL’S VOICE

WELL I KNEW IT SOUNDED FAMILIAR AT LEAST

WINRY GET OUT OF THE FUCKING TRUCk

has PINAKO TAUGHT YOU NOTHING

ok so i VASTLY prefer suit of armor original manga canon barry

this is such an odd plot what in fuck

um OW the meat cleaver

im so confused this fucking plotline

oh hey alphonse nice of you to show up!

is barry still gonna become a suit of armor later on

it makes NO SENSE to introduce him otherwise 

everytime i see 03 mustang i wanna beat his ass HONESTLY

literally i will shove my foot up his ass

fullmetal here we go

ed thinks he’s so punk rock 

oh great scar’s seen the watch

episode 9: be thou for the people

ed you simp buying winry all this stuff my edwin heart is ascending

SIMP SIMP SIMP

“mr. elric”?? you mean MAJOR ELRIC

to be fair though fuck the military

YOUSWELL??? oh LORD

im gonna need to read a full chronology of this show

 alphonse continues to be a precious angel 

where’s my boy yoki!!!!!

edward you idiot don’t go flaunting your money

woof woof ed

al looks so offended by ed saying they just met

whereas in brotherhood didnt he totally throw ed under the bus??? 

a choice to be sure

ah there he is hello yoki

who’s the chick

shes a lesbian

yoki makes me miss my baby girl mei chang

mei where r u

WAS THIS MILITARY DUDE REALLY ABOUT TO CUT DOWN A CHILD??? oh my god

hawkeye getting a promotion yes bby girl

jesus theyre transferring them to east now OKKKKKAY thats not how it happened it the book but ill take it....just doing it the opposite way i guess

who is lyra who is she

cute some military bribery 

umm lyra what the fuck did you do

lyra is a homunculus im callin it now

they definitely invented/changed up some homunculi in fact im certain they did and shes one of em. gotta be

i feel like 03 wrote ed as much more insensitive towards others than he really is...just a vibe im getting

i know he was faking for the townspeople’s sake but i still get this vibe from other instances 

i mean i cant say its not “canon” because its 03 canon

anyways what a show off

i cant believe theyre going to east...fuery and breda better be there

ok finally some answers on their ages....ed got his license at 12 like normal and nina and youswell were when he was 12...liore was 15, 

if they didnt flash the ages on the screen id be lost honestly

at least we’re back up to “present day”

episode 10: the phantom thief

ed saying he doesnt wanna see mustang

same

03 mustang is activating my fight or flight and im choosing fight

ed cheating at cards totally checks out

um who the fuck is this woman

what is she wearing

SERIOUSLY WHAT IS THAT CUTOUT MAAM HOW DO YOUR C**CHY LIPS NOT POKE OUT

idk but this is fem!hisoka

“hey shouldnt we talk first” after getting handcuffed??? christ almighty these innuendos

siren??????? siren is probably also a “fake” homunculus

ugh

ok so the nurse is siren

ya aint slick girly

alphonse control your crush

I REFUSE!!!! ALMEI RIGHTS

why is al’s hair so brown in this flashback anywayssss

oh its spelled psiren ope

like she’s literally a batman villain...

oh my god...............the tiddy grab. my son would never

my son is respectful

is this her homunculus tat or just a random alchemy tat

the added plotlines and original content continue to confuse and astound me every single time....

ok but if psiren really was doing this for the hospital she wouldnt be so flashy about it. like thats how you get caught sweet cheeks

girly stop flirting with this child on god im gonna fucking kick you

now shes a nun????????????????

Shes a fucking troll i hate her

im going to kick alphonse into the sun 

oh great now shes a teacher

wow shes a savior. the savior of amestrian venice. greatttttt

ed looking exactly like this emoji on this gondola rn 🧍‍♀️

STOP FLIRTING WITH THE CHILD 

GOD THIS IS SO BATMAN VILLAIN ESQUE

alphonse plzzzzzzzzzz she aint your girl

ok so probably not the last we see of this ding dong con artist

ok so its starting to get muddy. im scared the 03 stans are gonna come after me like i do like it and im having fun watching it but some of the plot and characterization choices are just....odd??? idk i gotta keep going though!! im sorry i just stan arakawa and her work in all her glory!!!

tyler, the creator: the very queer discography review!!!

Im bored of writing overly long threads on twitter so i wrote a look at tyler the creators discography and why hes gay and im gay and deserved to have his dick immortalized in gold when he dies. So tyler gregory okanma is a black man born in ladera heights california. He’s also my third favorite rapper and since he discovered my favorite rapper earl sweatshirt I guess he deserves goat status for that shit too. Tyler started his career around 17 years old as the ace the creator. He did features at the time with casey veggies and the inspirations in his flow to mf doom where already apparent even back then. From ace the creator mixtape you can already hear the very digital and jazz inspired pharrell production. Funny story if you look up any of his ace stuff now you'll mostly find some really old production that in the age of tyler the creator type beats doesn't really hold u all that great. From there Tyler went on to create odd futures and his first album bastard. He quite quickly followed up bastard with godlin. Goblin, bastard, and the OF tape vol.1 all feel pretty interconnected so im gonna speed round from worst to best. So odd future tape volume one is fun and punk and really crass, it's also completely eclipsed by odd futures other releases. I love odd future and the collective's ability too be both edgy teen skate rap garbage, and a risky artistic rap collective all at the same time. In odd future's first tape it seems pretty clear that tylers description of the groups early work as a bunch of niggas joking around in a studio is very apparent for better or worse. If you wanna get high with some friends can listen to some funny edgy and downright grimey tracks over left brains booking production skip this and listen to odd future's next mixtape but come back here to listen to some funny skits and a few proto mellowhype track with domo genesis. Goblin is Tyler's attempt to do a bigger darker more sprawling version of bastard but misses the mark. I like the album and I love singles on the album. Goblin the opening track is amazing and is a great look at tylers mental state attempting to live up to his newfound fame and anxiety about his infamy. I love yonkers and tron cat. Tyler says alot at this time that he doesn't make horrorcore and he's correct but the lack of emotional honesty and his immature deflections is really going off on all cylinders. If you dont wanna hear skits like “my bitch suck dick” and lines like “im not homophobic faggot” i would probably call it his worst album. Before i talk about bastard id like to go over his use of slurs and rape in his work. Tylers consistent lyrics about violence towards women and use of the lgbtq community really don't insult me. I feel like his lyrical content is filled with a clear look of how angry and insecure tyler was about not having a father or any way of processing his angst. Did he have to sound like a incel threatening to stalk and murder women who refuse to love him for over 3 albums? No, but i really enjoy looking at his early music. He doesn't shy away from how angry, sad and desperate he was at the time. That synthesis of need for fatherly love, anger from a lack of it and deteriorating mental state honestly makes the content more palatable. Also as a black trans women id rather hear tranny an faggot bars from a male rapper making intreeating music. Tyler at the time was being honest, angry and vulnerable not like eminem and action bronson who spit these bars with all the same rap bravado and violent anger toward women with zero pathos. Bastard is amazing, it's an intimate dark album. At the time it felt like it was tapping right into where I was at the time. The amount of mental anguish on bastards opening track really hit me. I was an angry kid with a lot of angst and bipolar disease so hearing a rapper yell about that same dysfunction really meant alot to me. The flows are amazing and it was a really good look at tylers ability to build a narrative. Wolf was tyler's next album. For a while wolf was my favorite album by tyler. His look at relationships and breakups on bimmer and ifhy are amazing and are expanded on his future releases. Find your wings and treehome are also a good look at his more melodic influence. It was such a good album I actually bought the mrech for and went to see Tyler at afropunk. Also hearing an entire song about the death of his grandma really hit me, my grandfather died around the same time. Cherry bomb was bad, now moving one. Ok im  joking i've listened to it two or three times but its really not worth going back to even though tyler put his all into it. The soul features and amazing production is worth listening to but even Tyler admits he rushed the album a little and that he needed to blow people away next time. Flower boy, is one of the most important albums in hip hop. That's it. Bar none. It was my favorite release of 2018. Flower boy is about tylers newfound isolation with his fame, and how he drives cars by himself in beautiful la vistas. Its also about how he’s gay (or bisexual). There are ALOT of stupid takes on this album. There is a contingency of tyler stans that think tyler has been “playing a character” since bastard. Now I'll admit that wolf haley and dr.teecee are clearly characters; they are also artists' representations of tyler's mental state. If wolf haley has adhd and no father that means tyler also has those issues. So whether or not Tyler is playing a character he has in fact “been kissing white boys since 2004”. I also have seen an insipid article that asks if “tyler the creator should be accepted into the lgbtq community” due to his homophobia? Much more controversial and actually homophobic and transphobic people are in this community hes tyler the creator, not milo yinnaoplous. I also dont think that it occurs to the reviewer that alot of gay men are very hmophobic before they come out and that self hate is very common. Lyrics like “im not gay i just wanna dance to some marvin” also has a much deeper context now. Listening to older releases you can see how in your face tyler was about his queerness. He even said he filmed himself kissing his friend Lucas to prove he wasn't a homophobe. I'm happy Tyler grew enough to make an album not only about being attracted to men but how lonely he felt in and out of the closet. As someone who came out as bisexual at the time it came at a perfect time. Being  gay is isolating and confusing and when you do you lose alot of friends and family. Garden shed, who dat boy, and 911 are real standouts. His collaboration with kali uchis was also so fucking smooth and she a born r&b star. Tyler gained a grammy nomination off the album and said he loved the feeling of finally making popular catchy music people wanna sing the lyrics too, so he followed it with igor. Igor opens with this addendum on the back of the physical album: 

This might be fiction, this might be about igor but it is fully about tyler okanga. The album is very hard to parse and barely has any rapping. It's more of a pop experimental album with a lot of lofi synth production. Tylers production chops are full force here. Igor is melodic, sad and full of the same anger and obsession from his previous albums. Its just more mature and really gay, and i fucking love it. Tyler was dealing with a tumultuous relationship with a guy and his refusal to be with tyler exclusively. Its about a breakup. A love tragedy that only becomes more depressing after the argument on a boy is a gun, the breakup in my love is gone, and the sad slump back into needing closure in can we be friends. The album is fun to sing to, and fucking devestating. I've dealt with a lot of similar issues with love and obsession so to hear it so clearly illustrated on igor really hit me. I think the album becomes even more depressing with the unreleased track best interest, about tyler being a side nigga. This is the kind of music that's sometimes made in r&b and pop but never in rap. There was an interview where Tyler says he hated his voice which is why he edits it so evident on igor. Tyler also said he wanted to send these songs to rihanna and Justin Beiber but they didn't want them, as cool as it sounds. I'm happy tyler was able to tell his own story. I would also recommend magic wand since it's my favorite track on the album and kicks you in the face with how angry and heartbroken Tyler was at the time. 

Tyler is an artist that talks and speaks about how he feels all the time, he's also a person who feels enigmatic and mysterious somehow. I think it has to do with how constantly he's put to the side of his other hip hop contemporaries. He always seems to be making music Tom weird, controversial and experimental to be treated like asap rocky, vince staples, or the late mac miller. A fact that feels ironic since he worked with all of those artists, lil wayne, and even kanye west. I'm as big a stan for tyler as he is for Pharrell, if it wherent forever I'd never take rap seriously and would never have chosen to make my own music. As a black trans woman I find a lot of tylers work really relatable. I've been in alot of the angry hopeless situations Tyler talks about in his music. I think he's the artist who hits me the most on a personal level and yeah when i was depressed i sat in my bedroom and listened to bastard in my low moments. I like riding in the car and listening to all of flowerboy. Igor is amazing as well for almost half a decade it's been amazing growing up and hitting the same emotional beats Tyler went through5 in his work. Hearing about him coming out as gay ajd dealing with very similar backlash mad me feel less alone if im being honest. Tyler has said he wants to take a more production heavy role in the industry moving forward but he says that a lot, i think as long as he has a story to tell he's always going to make music. His music feels like a diary and I'm happy to read it and sonnet to it in all its beauty and ugliness. 

Hi my name is lua o'reilly i make music on soundcloud.com/wormmother

If you liked this review let me know and I'll do a look into earl sweatshirt.

Fame - Angus Cloud (4)

Summary- a luckily timed audition leads to you falling for your new and unexpected co-star.

Warnings- okay HI welcome to my first multi chapter series woah?! this is actually so exciting for me like wow especially since angus doesn’t have any fics yet im just really really excited- so warnings! smut for sure, bad words, lotsa fluff, angst- everything in one basically. here comes a ride and I hope you enjoy :)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4 {reading now}

-

“Fuck right there- Oh my god please-” You moaned holding his hair. “You never had anyone eat your pussy like this before right?” he said eating deeper as you moaned and squirmed. “Only you baby, this pussy is only you-”

“Yo wake the fuck up, you making weird noises and shit.”

You sat up taking in a deep breath and inspected your surroundings. There stood a worried Angus with a mug in his hand. “I'm fine...” you said quite unconvincingly.

“You sure? I went to make you some tea and came back to you rolling around and groaning and shit, thought that strange netflix monster had come to you or sum.”

“The demogorgan-”

“Yeah that shit!” He sat next to you on the edge of the bed. “Nightmare?” he asked softly as he handed you the tea.

“Well not exactly...” You took the warm mug and took in a long swig of the warm goodness. It's not like you were just going to openly tell him ‘Oh no, I just had a dream about you eating me out and I loved every second of it.’ “Actually yeah, a nightmare.” you lied.

“I hate those, what was yours about?”

“I...a monster ate me alive and I couldn't stop it.”

Angus shook his head. “Damn mamas, I’m sorry. Those suck, I know its like 2 pm, but let’s eat some breakfast and try to forget about it.”

You nodded standing up and stretching “Thanks...for the tea.”

“Of course, don’t girls love tea? Ion know, I don't really be sleeping with girls that often.” He chuckled walking into the small kitchen.

“Tea is amazing!” You exclaimed, following him and sitting on the counter. “I love tea in all seasons, it has so many benefits.”

“Yeah? What’s some of them benefits.”

“Well green tea has amazing antioxidants, and is a more naturally caffeinated drink than coffee- with not as many negative results. But don't get me wrong, I really do love my coffee- anyway! Tea can help straighten and strengthen bones, brighten your smile, and help you lose weight!!”

“Oh wow.” He laughed “I didn't even care about all that tea shit, just wanted to hear your voice. But it was actually kinda interesting.”

“Yeah- and don't worry about a lack of my voice, I never shut up.”

“You right about that; but before you get all defensive, its aight. I like hearing you blab off about random stuff ion care about.”

You felt your face grow hot as you stifled a giggle that wanted to come out. “Thank you. I think I talk too much, but hey, can't really stop it y’know?” Angus nodded as he cracked 5 eggs into a pan. “You just be going off about stuff- actually you was sleep talking a little bit.”

Fuck.

“Yeah? What was I saying?” you asked innocently, hoping he didn't say what he was most definitely about to say.

“Well it was when you had that nightmare. Was the monster a cow or sum? Cuz you kept saying ‘Angus’ so like.” He turned to look at you “I figure it wasn’t me, but it was probably like...some beef monster.”

“Oh yeah, for sure a beef monster.”

“And that beef monster was eating you huh?”

You smoothly tucked your hair behind your ear and nodded with a sweet smile “Mhm.”

Angus gave you a quick up and down look before turning around and continuing to scramble the eggs. You had to change the current topic or you'd die of embarrassment, so you decided to bring up the topic of the show instead. “Do you know which scenes we’re filming tomorrow?”

“Yeah, no sex scenes until next week. Tomorrow they finna do you coming back and me reminiscing on the old times.”

“Okay cool. I have those lines down, pretty simple...” You mumbled.

“Yeah me too.”

A butcher knife couldn't even cut the tension in the room right now. Fuck, a chainsaw couldn't either.

“So like... I’m gonna go change and I'll be right back? Sound good?”

“You can wear summa my stuff. If you want- you don’t got to i'm just offering.”

“Oh that'd be great thanks! You know my trailer is just so far away!” You joked, knowing that it was only next door. You hopped off of the counter and followed him back into the room you two had just come out of.

“You just want one big shirt? Girls be doing that alot nowadays.”

“Yeah, thanks that'd be great...”

“So the biggest shirt I got got some barbecue stains on it- ignore it. I just went off on some spicy wings the other day-”

You burst out laughing and sat on the bed “Gus it’s fine, gimme!” You pulled your shirt off and held out your hands. He turned back around to find you only in your bra and shorts.

“Yooooo-”

“Its fine, we have to be completely naked with each other next week. Titties are just titties.” You took the shirt out of his hands and put it on. After pulling off the shorts that you wore underneath the shirt; that was more like a dress- and folding them, you walked back into the kitchen and reclaimed your spot on the counter.

“Well I know one problem we won't have!” You stated with a smirk.

“Yeah, and what's that?”

“Drake was worried you wouldn't be able to ‘get it up’...but honestly, I don’t think it'll be too hard.”

“Why you think that?”

“Look down.”

Sure, Angus wouldn't let you live down the wet dream you had about him for quite a while, but you'd never let him live down the boner he got- just from seeing you in a bra.

+

“So. Let's get to the real real.” Storm said pulling her knees up to her chest with a grin. “What the hell is going on with you and Angus?”

You, Storm and Daya were hanging in your trailer. You three were the only girls that didn't have scenes to film right now, Alexia, Barbie and the rest of the female cast were shooting night scenes. They had helped you set up the place to seem more homey, and now the newly formed trio you were a part of was in your bed with microwave popcorn, juicy juice, and twizzlers.

“Nothing Storm! Actually nothing I-”

“Nope, don't do that.” Z quickly cut you off. “Everyone can see it, it’s like what everyone on set talks about.”

“What?-”

“Plus, he talks about you too much, and you do the same with him! Earlier I said I wanted to pop some microwave popcorn and you started telling me about some conspiracy he told you about popcorn and microwaves, how they’re a secret way in for the government- like girl! Don't tell me you're so whipped that you're out here believing this stuff!”

“OKAY! Okay! I get it...look Gus is-”

“Gus?! You call him Gus?”

“Yeah?-”

“He literally hates that nickname with a passion. He gotta love you.” Storm chuckled grabbing a handful of popcorn.

“Okay well Angus is cute. He’s sweet and funny and caring- BUT. I won’t let anything happen between us, it’s like...business. This field is acting- and I don't think it would be good for us to do anything more, especially during filming.”

Z sighed. “Falling for your costars is weird.”

“Yeah.” Storm chimed in. “Our girl Daya been there and done that...but it never really affected her acting. She's so talented that she could keep it hidden off screen and focus on her character. I mean I know you talented Y/N...but you not my big sis like Z, so I don't really know how you'd be able to deal with it yet. Drake already seemed a bit iffy about it because he could tell you two had a little something going, but the thing comforting him is y'all are talented. So he knows you can do it- I know you can too.”

“Yeah he sent us a letter about it...it's just hard. I can't lose this role, I've come so far.”

“I don't think you’ll lose it. I think you'll be fine. Just keep a business mindset when on set. What goes on off screen and behind closed doors is your business, girl. Drake or nobody can stop that- Jesus can't even stop that!”

You and Storm giggled at Zendaya’s last comment. “Yeah yeah yeah...okay I get it guys. I got this- period.”

“Period.”

“Period...So were you one of those girls that watched all the Fez scene compilations on Youtube and drooled?” Storm teased you.

“No!” You said firmly, knowing you were lying.

“Oh she definitely was.”

“I wasn't!”

“I just don't see it! Angus is just not attractive to me, he looks like one of those guys that stop you at the gas station with a ghetto ass group of friends- he rubs his hands together and then screams ‘Hey baby lemme get yo numbaaaa!!!!’“

In response, you practically fell over laughing “Stoppp no!”

The rest of the night was filled with giggles and whispers, and by 1 AM, you, Z, and Storm were all huddled up in your little twin trailer bed. They snored softly but you couldn't seem to sleep. Just as you were .1 seconds away from drifting off, your phone buzzed next to you.

Angus☁️: u uppppp

-oh wow yeah that's not the most fboy thing ever to send at 1:27 am

Angus☁️:  see all you had to say was yes you didn't have to do allat

-can i help you mr cloud

Angus☁️: what typa help you offering?

-whatever help you need.

Angus☁️: you finna have some more beef dreams tonight?

-you finna get a boner if you see me in my bra again?

Angus☁️: maybe.

-then i'll say maybe too.

Angus☁️: you're too much

-i know i am, did you film today?

Angus☁️: ye i had some scenes wit jacob

-wit

Angus☁️: leave me alone

-you texted me

-and wow you sound really mature rn not at all like a five year old

Angus☁️: if i was w you rn id make you regret that

-was that supposed to be a threat or a way to try to make me sext

Angus☁️: both

-you should go text all the hoes you have waiting for you at home

Angus☁️: im texting them at the same time

-boy...

Angus☁️: im plAyin

Angus☁️: only you :)

-getting soft???

Angus☁️: no and i wish this was instagram dms so i could unsend it fuck

-fuck

Angus☁️: thats another thing you was saying during your ‘nightmare’

-STOP NO I WAS NOT

Angus☁️: yeah i know you wasnt lmao i just like messing w you

-you can mess w me whenever you want to

Angus☁️: oh bet????

-goodnight angus

Angus☁️: nah i want you to tell me about me messing w you

Angus☁️: damn you really left

Angus☁️: thats wrong 

Angus☁️: doing me dirty

-GTS MY PHONE KEEPS GOING OFF

Angus☁️: then put it on silent?

-NO

Angus☁️: ill stop being annoying if you come over here

-i cant, im w z and storm too

Angus☁️: shit okay well it was worth a shot

-why, what was you planning to do

Angus☁️: cuddle

-its fr time for you to go bed, i think your sleepiness is making you too soft and taking the hood away

Angus☁️: goodnight

-goodnight

Angus☁️: gn

-gn

Angus☁️: night

-night

Angus☁️: GOODNIGHT

-OKAY GN

Angus☁️: STOP REPLYING

Angus☁️: night

-

taglist:

@nikkixostan @melaninmarvel @celiajrs @siriuslycollins

Heyy have you ever made a drama rec list? I noticed you share a lot of dramas, id love to hear about your faves and why :) hopefully with eng subs haha

Hello! I've never made a drama rec list before! :o I don’t know how good I will be at explaining why they’re my favorite ( .__.;; ), but I’ll try putting one together!! ♥♥ (Basically anything recent you’ve seen on the dash is bc I’m following cast of The Untamed around (for cdramas) XD and also going back to watch dramas I wanted to but never got around to (for kdramas))

I’ve only watched a few cdramas when I was little (My Fair Princess, mainly, but there were some others I can’t remember the names of), but as I grew older I fell into the jdramas (Gokusen & Trick --> basically Namaka Yukie) hole, and then into the world of kpop/kdramas. Every now and then I would bounce back in, like with Fahrenheit and the X-Family/K.O. Series but I always went back around to kdrama and kpop, bc I always thought that cdramas were SO LONG. :p AND THEN THE UNTAMED CAME ALONG. And then I realized actually how EASY it was to watch cdramas. Hop onto YT and you’re pretty much set. You don’t have to wait around for months for them to finish bc they upload so many episodes a week!!! (Except it kinda sucks if you’re waiting for subs, bc.. cdramas... don’t... often... get... subbed?? Are there too many? [Good thing I don’t really need them. (･θ･)]) Right now, I’m pretty new to the world of cdrama and only really follow The Untamed cast and some others (Zhang Mingen, Luo Zheng (my Idol Producer son)) around, so this is gonna be short. XD

Favorite C-DRAMAS:

You know what I love? I love magic and fantasy and pretties. :3

Three Lives, Three Worlds: [Eternal Love (Ten Miles of Peach Blossoms) | Eternal Love of Dream (The Pillow Book) | Love and Destiny]

Ok, this is three different dramas, but they’re set in the same universe (kina? L&D is a little weird.), so I can lump them together, right? XD Three Lives, Three Worlds will infuriate you, but in a good (?) way. By nature of the format of this series, you may find the set-up is the same each time (immortal falls in love-immortal descends to the human realm for mortal trials-immortal reascends, badass as all hell (not necessarily in that order)), but each story is still new and captivating and heartbreaking. There’s always going to be THAT ONE CHARACTER (`•̀益•́´) but if I don’t hate them, they didn’t do their job right, right? I liked Pillow Book the best, but maybe that’s because it’s the one I started with? Pretty sure all are available on yt, but the subs may be spotty. I think PB is the only one with complete subs (thanks, Tencent). Eternal Love (TMOPB) is on Netflix (at least on mine) and I think VIKI also has both Eternal Love (TMOPB) and Love and Destiny. 

The Love by Hypnotic

THIS!!! I found this drama really cute. It’s a mix of serious and moments of humor. The prince has some memory... problems (TRAUMA), and it just so happens he is in an arranged marriage to a princess, who can use hypnosis to help him regain his memories. They don’t exactly see eye-to-eye at first, but they never do, do they? (¬‿¬) [It’s on YT] Also!! The OST is good!

Other dramas I enjoyed:  [Ohh, hey, They’re all on yt. Fully subbed. Lemme know if you want links to a playlist or sth.] 

- Joy of Life - Guardian ("Imagine waiting 10,000 years, finally finding the person you loved again only to die and have to wait even more”) - History 3: Trapped (a cop and a gangster fall in love; taiwanese series)

FAVORITE KOREAN DRAMAS: (sh*t, there’s too many)

My Country: The New Age (this one I watched recently, so let’s put it here ;__;)

I’ll be honest. I was watching for Woo Dohwan.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ But I really did enjoy this. These two idiots are each trying to make a better world for the other, but they sure have a strange way of showing they care (aka a sword to the gut).

School 2013

Lee Jongsuk. Kim Woobin. That’s it. Ok, ok. They aren’t the WHOLE focus of the show, there are other kids in the class who need help as well, but the bromance of this drama continues to haunt me to this day. There are the common themes you see in any school drama..(bullying, cheating, STRESS, inability to handle the stress (tw: suicidal intention)) those were some darker times, but in the end it’s all about friendship.

Hello Monster/I Remember You

Crime Show. Seo Inguk. Jang Nara. Lee Chunhee. Choi Wonyoung. Park Bogum. Do Kyungsoo. A criminal profiler and a detective build their relationship based on a series of mysterious serial-murders. But the culprit’s calling cards tell a story of something more...

Signal

Another crime show. But why do I enjoy torturing myself with the concept of time travel? The acting is sometime’s a bit over at the start, but the STORY! !!! I watched this drama three times. Mysterious radio transmissions between a cold-case profiler in 2015 and a detective in 1989 unravel the secrets behind a series of related murders.

Other dramas I enjoyed: 

- Legend of the Blue Sea (mermaid!!! ) - Guardian: The Great and Lonely God - Moon Lovers: Scarlet Heart Ryeo - Master’s Sun - Reply 1997 (slice of life; the only one I’ve watched. the only one where the /goat sound/ makes sense because THEY WERE BORN IN THE YEAR OF THE GOAT)

Ok. I’m gonna.. end it here. Enjoy! (〃´∀｀)

Lies Untold

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Supernatural, Wolf Au

Pairing: Luhan x Reader

Summary: For generations, your family has been the protectors of mankind. You were considered one of the best and due to that reputation, you were sent on what could be the most important mission for the organization. Going under cover in a college to sniff out a particularly large and threatening wolf pack seemed easy enough. But when you meet one of the members, everything you’ve known since birth will be overturned and your loyalty to your family and heritage will be tested.

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I 11 I 12 I 13 I 14 I Final

**

There was no fanfare for your departure the next morning. A simple goodbye from your family as you shoved your things into the back of the inconspicuous Jeep. No one else came to see you off and that was just fine with you. Too many had wanted this assignment and you didn’t want their attitudes to sour this last moment you would have with your family for a while.

You embraced both of your parents briefly, wanting to keep on a stoic face for them. the last thing you needed was for them to worry that you weren’t ready for this. You were more than ready; you were itching to get going. Ally, however, held on to your hug a little longer, sniffing back the tears as you kissed the top of her head. You could be a little more emotional with her and not send off unneeded alarm bells.

“I’ll send word when I’ve reached the apartment,” you told your family as you placed one foot up on the step, ready to hop into the driver’s seat.

“And after that, it’s radio silence,” your father reminded you. In agreement, you gave him a single, hard nod. You knew the rules well enough. If - heaven forbid - anything were to happen to you, the last thing you wanted was to lead the pack back here.

“Tell Innie hi for us!” your mom called out a bit more cheerful after you’d already slammed the door shut.

Shaking your head, you started up the engine and rolled on down the road, away from the place you’d called home for the past five years and towards a quiet, unassuming university town that had no idea the darkness that was lurking amongst its buildings. Of course your mother would still think of that right now.

The drive was long and tiring, nothing but the music from the radio to keep you company. By the time you reached the apartment building, the sun was already on the other side of the sky. Keys in hand, you grabbed all of your bags and made the climb up the stairs and inside the old brick house that the owner had renovated to split it up into four equal sized apartments. At least your neighbors were limited.

Inside, the rooms of the one bedroom apartment were already furnished, everything provided by and set up by some family connections that left no trace of themselves behind. At first glance, it seemed like a normal apartment for the average twenty-something girl. But, if anyone were to look closer, they’d realize that the decor was minimal, just enough to pass as occupied, but not enough to show character or give insight to the resident. It didn’t really matter much, though. You weren’t planning on letting anyone beyond the front door. Except maybe for-

Vrrrmmm. Vrrrrmmm. Vrrrmmm.

You sighed, dropping the heavy bags from your shoulders down to the floor. Only a few minutes in this new place, and your mother was already calling you to check up on you. Sure, the GPS had just been turned off, signalling to them that you made it, but couldn't she give you a second to actually make the phone call?

But when you pulled your phone out of your pocket, it wasn’t your mother’s caller ID lighting up the screen.

Smiling to yourself, you swiped the little green icon and answered, “Hello?”

“(y/n)!”

You were fully prepared for the shouting, simply laughing at your cousin’s excitement.

When you first learned that your assignment would take place in the same town your cousin lived in, you were both concerned and relieved. Obviously the concern came from the fact that she was in such close proximity to the settled wolf pack, but the relief was a bit of a surprise to you.

Hunters were often depicted as loners, detached and uninterested in the world around them. That’s not how you were, though. You liked being around family and people that you cared about. Loneliness was to be expected in this life, but that didn’t mean you had to like it. Knowing that your cousin was so close and just a phone call away was a surprise comfort to keep your focus and not get overwhelmed with the task assigned to you. The only issue: Innie was from your mother’s side of the family and completely clueless that hunters and werewolves even existed.

And you planned to keep it that way.

“Hey, Innie!” you greeted back with enthusiasm.

“Are you in town yet? Please tell me that you’re in town!”

“Yes, I just made it in.”

“Good! That means you can come out tonight!”

It took a bit of your training to hold back the groan. Of course, Innie would jump straight into “going out” mode. You weren’t opposed to actually leaving the apartment; in fact, it’d be the perfect opportunity to stake out the town’s residents and maybe catch a whiff of the wolf pack since you didn’t really know what any of them looked like. Fighting off your cousin’s attempts to get you to keep drinking was going to the hard part. The last time you saw her face to face was a little after her birthday four years ago and you’d never been more miserable than how you felt the following morning.

From your intel, the pack was roughly the age of the college students that occupied this forest-surrounded town. So maybe going out to a bar would be the best place to start in your search.

“Absolutely,” you agreed with a bit of genuine enthusiasm. “What are you thinking?”

“There’s a bar downtown called The Moonlight. Meet there at eight?”

The Moonlight? Seriously? You weren’t a business expert, but could the owner really not come up with a more creative name than that?

Well, at least it was memorable.

“Sounds good,” you told her. “I’ll see you then.”

Innie squealed loudly into the phone, making you laugh. “I’ll you see tonight! I’m so excited!”

Shaking your head, you hung up with your cousin. While you couldn’t pinpoint the origin or reason why, you had a good feeling about this outing and the possibilities it held for your mission.

Moving on to more important things, you dialed the number for your father’s burner phone.

“Yes?” your father’s voice came from the speaker.

“The package arrived,” you said monotonously.

There was no reply. He simply hung up, the message clearly received.

And with that, you tossed your phone down on the small kitchen table, picked up your bags and headed for the bedroom where you would unpack your things until it was time to meet up with Innie.

**

Luhan got back from his run a few hours later to a very put out Junmyeon. The alpha was leaning up against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest and a frown creating wrinkles between his eyes.

“I thought I asked everyone to go on runs in pairs?” Junmyeon said crossly.

Luhan sighed, not feeling the least bit sorry. Okay, maybe he felt a little sorry since Junmyeon had a tendency to worry, even about the minute things. “You did. But I needed the air and everyone else was occupied.”

Understanding the implication, Junmyeon’s stern face slipped. “Well, you still could have asked one of us to go with you. I’d rather that than something happening to you.”

“But how long did it take you to realize I was gone?” Luhan asked. His tone wasn’t harsh or venomous, just simply inquiring. At Junmyeon’s inability to answer, Luhan smiled. “Don’t worry about it. It’s alright. But I should probably go take a shower now, I’m sweaty from the run.”

He was gone and down the stairs before Junmyeon could reply. He wasn’t really in the mood to be given pity. While he was still pacifying the little flame of hope inside, he didn’t want anyone else poking at it.

Thankfully, the water was nice and warm when he rotated the metal handle and stepped into the tiny shower in the bathroom he shared with the others who occupied the basement. The walls and door of the cramped space were practically sparkling, meaning that Evie had gone through her normal Saturday cleaning spree. He’d have to make sure he wiped everything down after he finished so didn’t get that look. Until then, he stayed under that spray of water, just letting his mind wander as he washed his hair and scrubbed off the dirt he’d accumulated on the run.

Afterwards, he got dressed and headed back upstairs find something to do until it was time to head into work. He settled in the living room, watching old reruns of a sitcom that had been off of regular air for a good decade or so. Around the time he contemplating getting up to leave, Tao came through the living room, stopping when he noticed Luhan.

“How do I look?” the younger wolf inquired, striking several poses so Luhan could see the outfit from multiple angles.

Luhan wasn’t entirely sure what was so special about this getup. Paired with zipper decorated black skinny jeans was a dark gray hoodie worn under another jacket with a floral pattern that reminded him of an old couch you’d typically find in a grandmother’s house. And yet, the way Tao walked around confidently in the clothes, it somehow all came together.

“Got another date tonight?” Luhan guessed, already knowing the answer.

“Of course,” Tao snorted, that mischievous smirk playing on his lips. “I’d say ‘don’t wait up for me’, but-”

“I won’t even be here,” Luhan interceded. “Just don’t bring her to the bar. I’m hoping for a peaceful night.”

Tao rolled his eyes. “Good luck with that. I think some of the guys plan on starting there tonight.”

“Great,” Luhan groaned. With a sigh, he jumped up from the couch. “At least they’re planning to use it as a starting point and not for the end of their night. I’m not driving any of those drunks home.”

“They’ll probably crash at one of the mates’ place.” There was no missing the sneer behind Tao’s voice.

Luhan kept his thoughts on that particular subject to himself, instead walking quietly beside Tao to the garage before hopping into his own car and heading into town. Tao drove a little faster than Luhan, so the latter was very much alone on that long stretch of road, nothing but the still trees lining both sides to keep him company.

The bar was already busy by the time he arrived, people taking advantage of the decent food before going on with their crazy nights. Luhan greeted his coworkers, including Erin, who gave him a shy smile and a quiet hello while pushing her hair behind her ear. The sound of her racing heartbeat reached his ears and he sighed internally. He knew about her little crush and it made him sad.

She didn’t know that her chances with him were zero. Less than, even. If Luhan wasn’t a wolf, if he didn’t have a mate out there waiting for him, he’d gladly take her out on a date. She was cute, small, and gave off that aura that immediately made you want to protect her. But Luhan couldn’t push off his fate and forget about it like Tao could, so he kept her at arm’s distance. Still friendly, but avoided doing anything that could be interpreted in the wrong way.

A little before eight, a familiar face sat down at the counter in front of Luhan.

“Hey!” Hae In greeted with a large smile.

“Hey,” Luhan greeted back as he filled a glass with ice. His eyes searched instinctively for Baekhyun who he knew wouldn’t be too far behind.

“He’s not here yet,” Hae In told him. “He’s coming later.”

“Wonderful,” Luhan grumbled teasingly.

Hae In rolled her eyes before checking her watch. “I’m going to run to the restroom real quick. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” he nodded.

Barely a minute after Hae In disappeared towards the restrooms, another girl sat down on the same bench. And Luhan’s heart stopped.

Did you really just sit down in front of him? Was his mind playing tricks on him?

No. The others had described the feeling too many times for this ache in his heart to be anything else. But while Luhan was staring at you with awe, you weren’t looking in his direction at all, scanning the crowd with your eyes.

Please, don’t be looking for a boyfriend. He didn’t really want to deal with the same situation that Kris and Minseok went through.

To his relief, it wasn’t a boyfriend that came bounding up to you. It was Hae In.

“(y/n)!”

And now he had a name as well.

Hae In practically threw herself on you, but you stayed steady on the stool, smiling as you returned the hug.

“I’m so glad you made it!” Hae In squealed.

“Did you think I’d skip out on seeing you again after all this time?” you scolded.

“Of course not. I am your favorite, after all.” Hae In pulled back, a bright smile on her face. Turning to Luhan, she introduced the two of you. “Oh, good you’re still here. (y/n), this is my friend, Luhan. Luhan, this is my cousin, (y/n).”

Her cousin? Oh this day was just getting better.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you nodded. But while Luhan was grinning from ear to ear, your own smile was more strained, a curious and confused look in your eyes. Perhaps, even… worry?

“And you.” Luhan couldn’t believe it. For so long, he’d waited for you and now, of all the bars in this town, you walked into his to meet your cousin, who also already happened to be a mate of his brother. That connection was going to make it easier to meet you, to grow closer to you. But for now, he had to stay in the role of friendly bartender. “What can I get you?”

“Why not two of your famous specials?” Hae In asked with a wink.

“You got it.”

Luhan tried not to listen too hard to the conversation that was taking place in front of him, but he couldn’t help it, only his hands were occupied and he didn’t have to think about the ingredients as he mixed them together. It sounded like you had relocated here to get a little independence from your family. You worked from home as a freelance designer and were looking for new scenery. Hm, maybe you and Dana would get along in that aspect.

“Here you go,” Luhan interrupted, sliding over two glasses of the Luhan Twist. “Enjoy.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled, reaching for the drink with your left hand. And then, for the second time in just five minutes, Luhan’s heart stopped. But this time, it wasn’t out of joyful surprise.

Right there, tattooed on your left wrist was a triquetra, revealed for a second by your long sleeve not stretching with the motion. While he’d seen that type of art inked into people before, it was the placement and the fact that the three points transitioned into arrowheads that flipped everything on its head. It was the mark of one of the hunter families that had been torturing his kind for centuries.

You didn’t notice his change in demeanor as you sipped on the drink, keeping your attention on Hae In.

As quietly as he could, Luhan stepped away. He needed space to think, to try and figure out what the hell he was going to do. Because the one he was fated to love was raised to kill him. And he had a feeling that if he wasn’t careful with how he handled this, you could really be the death of him.