#she has the same sense of humor as Jay

[toastingpencils37]

Ok, who named Jay. Ed & Edna, or Cliff & Libber?

Because if it was Ed & Edna, they knew what they were doing. I mean, their last name is Walker. There is no way they just coincidentally named their kid, who's last name would be Walker, Jay.

Or if Cliff & Libber actually named him (or maybe just Libber, depends on where their relationship would've been at the time), they just decided to name their kid Jay, & when Libber dropped him off at the junkyard, it was a coincidence that the owners had the last name Walker. But this option isn't as fun.

#ninjago #jay walker #ed and edna ninjago #ninjago libber #cliff gordon #naming their kid Jay Walker just sounds like something Ed & Edna would do #imagine if Libber somehow heard about her child the Blue ninja and then heard his full name #she would either be flabbergasted or laughing her ass off #because let's be honest #she has the same sense of humor as Jay

[dropsofletters]

how to unsubscribe to dating

SUMMARY: on april 18th, hansol likes his favorite youtuber’s instagram picture. not because of her content—though, he finds himself laughing at all of her weekly videos—but because he thinks she’s gorgeous. that is how it ends. just a like on a picture that no one will see.

three years later and after a tough break-up, the internet hates her and a misstep has hansol dragged into the drama. now, everyone thinks they are dating and what a better way to gain subscribers and have millions on views on their videos? just let them think it’s real and work on a whole season of dare videos for the world to enjoy.

only that it is not so easy, one can subscribe to a youtube channel but not really unsubscribe to falling in love.

TITLE: how to unsubscribe to dating.

PAIRING: chwe hansol x reader

GENRE: youtuber!au ; fake dating-ish!au ; youtube drama!au ; strangers to friends to lovers!au ; idiots in love!au

WORD COUNT: 14,014 words

GENRE: fluff ; humor ; drama ; angst if you squint ; suggestive

NOTE: this was a kofi request! if you want me to write anything, you can go over there and request something from me.

The secret to color theory is that there are primary colors, and the rest are just blend-able shades that would not exist without bases, foundations and ‘trials-and-errors’. In some sense, we correlate the color of our lives to that primary stance—we are red, we are yellow…the intensity that we want to be. How we want to counterpart in a main role that, inherently, sometimes won’t be settled upon us. The saddening truth of being a purple, or a lime green.

She would have never imagined herself to be anything more than a yellow. She said, when she was younger, that her voice would be so high that the annoying tone that came with her made her stand out in any crowd. Yellow. And then came heartbreak, teenage years, the blending with a pure gray or a black undertone that could never get her to darken her soul. It was more like a mustard yellow. Lulled. Not as bright. Just wishing upon standing out again, blending nicely with everyone, but always sticking out like a sore thumb. Hard to look in the eyes.

For the past two months, she felt like she was back to her bright yellow. To smiles with all teeth, shared with Jay as he wrapped his arms around her shoulder; to late-night talks with the phone screen glaring across her vision as she whispered small ‘I don’t want to go’s. Relatively, that comes to a stop. Because, in the eyes of a man that she dated with the dumbfounded hope to finally meet the love of her life, she was never yellow. God, he’d cringe at the mere sound of the Coldplay song. She was brown.

As in shitty brown.

Jay should be better than this. In actuality, after how everything fell down with a break-up text that he never really responded to, she doesn’t think he’s better, but hey, common sense is a thing still, isn’t it? As a YouTuber, quite like her, who shared the same interests and niche with a commentary channel based on pop-culture, one would think that he would not incorporate their ‘not-that-talked-about’ relationship in a Tweet. Though, maybe she had seen him as a bright blue, when he’s nothing but—at best—a plum or a dark gray.

You know, like having concrete between your teeth. Not that pleasurable, neither something she wants to try again.

@notthatjay_lee: how does that song go? a, b, c, d, e, f…thank you for wasting my motherfucking time.

She chuckles. Actually, full-on laughs when sitting on the counter at her kitchen, trying or supposedly about to edit her newest video commenting on Disney’s old shows and how she binge-watched them on a brim. Not that the viewers should know that she watched the entirety of Hannah Montana in a week because she was going through a break-up and crying for the asshole that Jay Lee is, but she needed to update after being a month away.

She continues scrolling, watching the thread that has formed in the tweet and the hundreds of comments that tag her. They weren’t precisely out as a relationship, but it was known. They went to conventions together, appeared in pictures with fans tagged together. It wasn’t hidden under the rug, but it was also not blasted out of proportion like Jay is doing right now.

He responded to a fan.

@jaysassissick: We are here for you, Jay! I can’t believe what some bitches can do for fame.

@notthatjay_lee: imagine getting cheated on by someone who can’t even reach a million subscribers. lol. can sadly relate.

“You just didn’t…” She mutters to herself, standing up and closing her laptop with a bang. More notifications pop up, from all social media that she could muster. Pictures tagged of the two of them together coming up with headlines that read commentary-channel YouTubers feuding. Cheating. Cheater, out of all things.

And that’s the thing about women. If they are not colors that blend well with the primary ones, like men expect to be, they are tarnished and burned to ashes to stay in the ground. That was her case, in which her silence was the ignition of a chain of events that now are out of her reach. None of those people that keep harassing her online can know that Jay had been distant the past month; that he’d spend more of his days running away from her than actually trying to put effort into the relationship.

That it’d be more looking through social media to see him commenting on pictures of his supposed ‘friends’ wearing bikinis and his phone hidden with his face down whenever they were together. It was not confirmed, of course, she didn’t have enough proximity with him, neither did they live together for her to confirm that her suppositions were true, but something she knows. Jay is not a saint, neither is she for the rage that builds within her like a Lego house that burns with the unsatiable need of revenge.

She almost believes that the best way to go about this is making it as public as he is. However, she knows she’s better. Yellow, bright, shining, as she has always been, just shadowed by someone who was envious of how burning her colors could be. Hence, she puts her phone down after turning it off, quite like he did whenever a fight ensued between the two and he would play the victim card with a pout to his lips. She thinks about it—the video she is supposed to edit, the pictures on her phone she has yet to delete and the revival, that word that speaks about new beginnings and definitely, a smirk that tells the past that she’s doing much better.

For now, she’s just alone in her apartment. With a bowl of noodles that has gone cold and a heart that is palpitating far too fast, for heartbreak isn’t easy, much less when it’s this open, but she can think of ways of getting back to Jay, whether the public knows it’s directly thrown his way or not.

She owes this man nothing.

“Jeonghan, I need you recording my shit. Not looking at your phone.”

With a hand quipping closed as if asking for Hansol’s lips to remain shut, Jeonghan remains as relaxed as he had been when they started recording this weekly’s recap. Though, while Hansol had been stumbling over his lines—as per usual on a Saturday morning, that’s the only time they could meet up because Seungcheol was going on a trip this weekend for his cousin’s wedding—, Jeonghan had frankly lost his mind to whatever is showcased in his phone. So far in the text he’s reading, which Hansol is certain is not a book, that he leaned back on one of the love seats in Hansol’s office, propped his knees to his chest in fetal position and lurked through whatever caught his interest like a lion looking for his prey.

“The moment you can get a word out without stuttering is the moment we start recording.” Jeonghan runs a hand through his black hair, covering the rudeness of his words with a soft smile. Hansol knows better than to take Jeonghan’s words close to heart, but still.

“I just needed some more coffee.”

Seungcheol enters the room then, with a new Starbucks drink since Hansol decided to steal his. “You drank my macchiato.” With a slap on the back of Hansol’s head, the man takes a seat on the other empty love-seat, as if there is not a whole video to be recorded and posted on Monday. “But Hansol’s not wrong. I have to get on that plane at four and it’s nine in the morning. We can get through this video if we just start recording it.”

Jeonghan doesn’t respond and Hansol takes this time to sigh deeply and toss his head back. Things were easier when posting a YouTube video wasn’t so…meticulous. At the beginning, just over eight years ago, Hansol had posted a video on social media that had gotten quite visibly viral. He had over a million views in just fourteen hours, breaking records somehow, making it to meme accounts and Vine compilations. Stupid as it could get, it was a video of Hansol wearing a swimming hat and those aesthetic sunglasses that resembled John Lennon’s style, with Jeonghan zooming in on the frame and him saying: ‘bitch’ before the video came to an end.

It had literally no context, but he made a living out of it.

That’s how he launched his career, changed the name and created an online persona. He called himself Zach, sporting bright and quite frankly unfitting outfits and making meme weekly recaps. He spoke about what was new on the Internet, made fun of some videos, never quite made it to the commentary channel spectrum but became a voice that over ten million people had subscribed to. No one knew that his real name was Hansol, or that he wasn’t as outspoken as he was in his videos. Never an opinion that breaks or makes a room.

Jeonghan grabs the coffee mug from Seungcheol’s hold, ignoring the man’s complaints to take a sip. “I think I have a topic we need to add to this week’s review.” He finally pulls away from his original position, biting down on his lip like he does when he has an idea that he can’t keep on the depths of his chest. “Have you heard about the newest drama with Jay Lee?”

Hansol crosses his arms across his chest, sitting on the edge of the desk that holds his computer, always in front of him in his videos. “Jay…Lee? Doesn’t ring a bell for me.”

“You know, the TikTok guy who makes POV’s videos.” Jeonghan urges on, tossing a glance towards Seungcheol who finally snatches his drink before giving a curt nod.

“Even I remember who he is.”

“How many guys don’t make ridiculous videos on TikTok?” Hansol prompts, only to have Jeonghan sighing.

“He was known on YouTube for his music videos and parodies. You know how that went a little bit downhill lately, so his niche has changed. Makes videos every once in a while.” Jeonghan includes in his narrative, turning his phone around to show a picture of a man he now recognizes. Damn, even in his beginnings as a YouTuber, Jay Lee already had a bunch of people under his name. With long, tossed back black hair, tattoos that scatter across a slim, tall body and a pair of glasses that always rest on the brim of his straight nose. He was of interest for a bunch of people on the Internet, even to this day.

“What about him?” Hansol questions, only to have Jeonghan clapping his hands once.

“He’s burning the Internet with his latest allegations. He was dating a commentary channel YouTuber, though they never accepted it, but he’s making the allegations that she cheated on him and has announced that he’s releasing a diss track to explain everything.” He’ll never understand how the world revolves around drama, but Jeonghan gives more explanation by saying her name and giving him the phone once again.

The picture shows a couple together with a fan, and he recognizes her with far more ease. He remembers last summer, when he would spend most of his afternoons laughing about her videos with the graphics she made. Very rarely does her face show on her videos, but she draws a little character that speaks, through her commentary, about the topic at hand. Always a show. A video. A meme. Hell, he thinks that she once talked about him on a video years ago.

Jay is much taller than her, with his arm wrapped around her shoulder, squishing their cheeks together as they hold peace signs, her hand interlocked with the young fan’s. They didn’t look necessarily in love, but close enough to it. Like the beginning of a love that had just started to flourish.

“What has he said?” Seungcheol questions, now interested in the topic.

“What hasn’t he said? He has spent the past three days creating a YouTube war. He has even dropped her name a few times, tagging her, asking her to be upfront because she has escaped the internet. MIA and all.”

Hansol can’t imagine how tough it is to go through a break-up where the other person is trying to plot everyone against her. Sure, he’s not certain if she cheated, but he takes his own phone to look through Twitter, seeing him post pictures of the two of them together—clearly personal, never seen by anyone but them—, adding thread after thread of how in love he was with her and how badly she broke his heart. It seemed like he was bleeding through a wound that was never quite as open as he made it out to be.

“What an asshole.” He mutters, getting closer to the computer and writing something down on his script. “I think we can add it to this week’s episode. The last bit. Just for a few clicks and because…he’s really getting out of control.”

“And everyone is supporting him.” Jeonghan adds, shrugging his shoulders. “Would be nice to give an opinion that isn’t sided one way or the other.”

“…That’s putting Hansol against a man that has just about the same following as him. Including him in the war isn’t going to do the channel any good.”

Hansol looks up at that moment, raising his eyebrows and weighting the options. Seungcheol isn’t wrong, but he knows this is a topic that needs to be talked about. Break ups on the internet. Where some people post videos crying and hugging for the last time, while others take their following to side with them as if it was a parent going through divorce.

“Yes, but this whole Zach character is about that. Speaking about what I think is wrong, right or funny…and these tweets? Stupid, borderline funny, over-line worrying.”

Seungcheol takes a sip of his macchiato, bringing a shoulder up in nonchalance. “I’ll have to take care of the mess after, but if that’s what’s going to bring the views, go for it.”

Is he really doing it for views, though? Or maybe, he just thinks it’s inherently wrong to destroy someone’s career that way, until they are too afraid to go on the internet because of hate. Jay Lee will have to learn a lesson about being made fun of.

@notthatjay_lee: glad to know the mystery’s resolved. @chwethatzach you’ve cleared the rumors up. song coming in three days!

Hyeji had said it seven months ago when she started liking Jay, as she flipped on tarot decks, spread them neatly on the coffee table between them, speaking through a cloud caused by the blunt between her lips. Jay Lee’s an imbecile, he’ll break your heart. She didn’t listen, because in her mind all men go through a phase of being overly-confident and, quite frankly, assholes. She opted to believe that Jay was willing to change and talk, venturing into a friendship and then, into whatever kind of relationship they had held that now is a complete disaster.

Her best friend, Moon Hyeji, runs her fingers through her dirty hair after showing her the tweet that Jay had just posted. Tagging her after, nonetheless. Hyeji, as wild as she is, with long locks of wavy hair and a rose tattoo on the column of her neck, had called Jay just a day ago, telling him to back off before she took legal actions. Taking it from the woman who is the daughter of one of the richest men in the country, a businessman nonetheless, Jay should have taken it a little bit more seriously. Hence, he doesn’t.

“What the fuck do I even have to do with that dude?” She questions, finally standing up from her position on Hyeji’s lap. Ever since this issue went to absolute hell, with the diss track incoming and a handful of people making drama videos about the timeline of their very short-lived relationship, Hyeji had travelled all the way from London to get here and eat piles of ice cream while bad-mouthing Jay. Only that it didn’t help her the slightest.

She wants to talk, but she doesn’t know how to go on about the issue. Fueling the problem even more if just going to have his fans speaking with more fervor, and just like how he doesn’t have proof of her cheating, she also doesn’t have anything to defend herself with about not cheating.

“There’s a video, apparently…” Hyeji roams through her phone with long nails before she displays her screen on the TV in front of them. The image that loads is of the start of a video of someone she knows somewhat well, for she really likes Zach Chwe’s videos, or at least, she can catch up on them every once in a while.

Zach has always been a little different than most. He feels like a true friend that one can talk with as he launches in that green chair of his, always wearing clothes that leave everything to the imagination and would have everyone talking about him. He’s wearing a tie-dye hoodie, as per usual in some of his videos, with an apron on top of it that reads ‘the chef’s dead’ and a pair of sunglasses that rest on top of his brown hair. His soft eyebrows move with each of his words, firstly greeting his audience, then speaking about the newest memes found on the internet.

“He must have spoken about your issue with Jay.”

“How so? He never talks about drama.” She asks, getting a look from Hyeji who clears her throat soon after.

“People believe he’s the one guy Jay is saying you cheated with.” Her best friend whispers, moving through the video, getting fast glimpses of Zach laughing, tossing his head back, speaking through slim lips and using his ring-cladded hands to express his points. Only three minutes before the video ends does the image of Jay with her and a fan comes on the screen, earning Hyeji a few taps on her shoulder.

“There! There! Stop the video there!”

The darkness of her room, reeking the smell of orange chicken and diet soda, is bathed in the light of Zach Chwe as he rolls on his chair and says: “There’s a reason us men are called assholes and I think it’s because Jay Lee exists. Okay, I’m not anyone to be putting my opinion here and I usually stay away from these things, so I’m not sure if she cheated or not…but isn’t it, at least, the best thing you can do to spell correctly as you’re dissing your ex?”

Then, the screen shows screenshots of Jay’s tweets, bathed in hate, writing in the worst possible way and yet, with a few errors.

She hadn’t noticed that as she got drowned into the drama that he had created, so she smiles for what feels like the first time this week.

“You don’t even spell that well, Zach!” Someone shouts from the background, and she knows Zach Chwe normally has his friends putting in some words for spice on his videos, but she actually laughs along with him.

“More of a reason to critique, I guess.” He shrugs his shoulders. “But hey, remember those Facebook videos we talked about a few weeks ago? If you haven’t checked it out, I’ll leave the link to that video on the description, but we were making fun about those mom videos where they make their daughters fearful of sending nudes because some creep will post them on their Facebook page. I thought men like that didn’t exist, until I figured out this whole Jay Lee thing. He’s a hair away from posting a picture of her feet, I tell you so.”

The video doesn’t last much long after that, with Zach making fun of Jay’s tweets and then, the camera zooming in on his face for an outro recalling his beginnings online. However, Hyeji has fallen silent, with her knees propped under her chin, using her free hand to caress the column of her ear, as always, seeking for a way of making her feel better through touch.

“This sounds…like the internet is going insane.” Hyeji then reaches for her phone, shaking in the air. “Come on, unlock it and turn on your notifications again!”

“What? Why?” She is not sure she’s ready to lurk through social media once again, Hyeji has been doing that for her instead, like her little manager, blocking the hate that gets real and personal.

“Jay is playing it off as if Zach Chwe is the one that you’re dating, or the one you cheated on him with.”

“I didn’t cheat on him—

“I know, but he’s trying to get views and I need to know if Zach’s team contacted you, so open that phone and get a pair of balls for what we’re about to face.”

A pair of balls would be little to what she needs once she opens Twitter and Instagram.

On Instagram, she has been tagged on a bunch of pictures. Headlines that include her profile picture on YouTube and Zach Chwe’s picture. Titles that go on the rampant lie of ‘YouTube Stars Zach Chwe and OfDrawingsAndWords on a relationship!’ scattering across her vision on every platform she comes across of.

“I’m doomed. Jay keeps winning no matter what I do—”

“Because you haven’t said anything. You’re protecting him even when he’s trying to destroy you.” Hyeji advices, pushing on her Instagram notifications until she sees it, a direct message from the YouTuber who is implicated on this drama with her, nonetheless. “So, you either take the reigns right here, right now or Jay Lee is going to drown your career before it even reached the shore.”

Shaking fingertips reach for the Instagram message, closing her eyes tightly until she opens it.

“Read it.”

“Come on…” Hyeji trails, clasping the phone in her hands. “I know it’s been tough, but I don’t need you hiding away.”

“I’m scared! This guy has nothing to do with me!” She screeches, slapping her hand on her shoulder only to have Hyeji looking at her. With that softness that characterizes her under all her strength.

“Alright…” Hyeji whispers, soon after reading out loud. “Hey, it’s Zach Chwe. I’m sorry that my comments involved us in a mess bigger than what you already had going on and my team and I want to make mends on the issue I just created. Do you mind talking about it, in person or with my PR team getting in contact with you? Sorry for the inconvenience once again.”

Hyeji takes in a deep breath before tossing herself onto the half-done bed.

“We’re talking about it in person.”

“…Uh, we’re not.” She finalizes, trying to snatch her phone back but Hyeji isn’t relenting. Though, she’s not as rude as one would imagine, she still consenting by looking her way and expecting her to change her mind. “Hyeji, I don’t want to see anyone right now. Jay’s blowing everything out of proportion—”

“Reason as to why you shouldn’t hide. Zach Chwe can be a great person to have on your side right now. The internet loves him, and now they’re not as cruel. You have to see the comments, people are torn just because he is involved.”

That makes her ponder, inspecting every portion of Hyeji’s face to find some fun or joke in her features, but she’s full-on serious. Not a drop of insecurity in those quirked eyebrows. She sighs deeply, taking the phone in her hands and seeing the sign that reads ‘you follow each other’. Why is it that people naturally gravitate towards what a man can say or not, even when she has been expecting to be trusted by anyone online and no one seemed to be by her side?

No one but him and a few people. Even the friends that she had collaborated with several times had taken his side.

Hence, she starts typing, not caring about the consequences of fueling the fire a little bit more, because she’s already getting burned, but she won’t relent without a fight.

“I’m down with meeting up so we can sort out how we will go on about this. You select the place and the time. Thank you for getting in contact, by the way!”

Hyeji places a kiss on top of her head, squishing her slim cheek against her scalp.

“We will get past this, love. I swear we will.”

She doesn’t think this unreasonable love war is anywhere near over, however.

“I sure hope we will.”

Hansol thinks making ramen is an art form. He does it when he’s nervous instead of nibbling on his bottom lip or tugging his black beanie down his ears for the umpteenth time. Only he would think it was a great idea to meet with one of his favorite social media creators on a fucking convenience store, but he feels protected by the quietness and the sweet buzzing of the microwave as he wishes upon a start that the stacks of cheese that he poured on his flaming hot noodles becomes a puddle at the bottom that relishes its exquisiteness.

So, maybe, he’s a bit nervous. Reason as to why he had lost his grip a bit when pouring the cheese on the ramen basket.

It passes him how she has been able to spend weeks receiving the messages she does, but the moment he posted that video, the narrative took another turn. Hell, he even thinks he has seen some edited videos of the two of them as a supposed ‘couple’. The song has been released, heard by thousands, even more news coming up about them and he’s…surprised. About the sheltering that came from his pseudonym and how the world is torn. Now, Jay shines as a real villain and people ponder if leaving him for Hansol was the right choice.

How in the hell he got in this situation is misunderstood by him?

However, he rubs on his eye after grabbing the ramen noodles and plopping them on the nearest table, he hears the bells by the door ringing, the worker too occupied in organizing the strawberry milks to even care about her, but he does. None of her pictures online would ever compare to how she looks in real life. With a gray turtleneck for the weather, face ridden of any makeup, sweater half-tucked into her pants and yet, as her sunglasses rest on the brim of her head, she looks like a whole…dream.

She reminds him of the warmth that comes from a gust of breath on top of freezing hands when winter drops around. They are just barely reaching fall, but the weather has fallen significantly. She stands in front of him, looking away from her phone before a small smile reaches the corner of her eyes, not adding a small ‘hi’ as he does with a wave of his hand, but something to the air between them nonetheless.

“You look different when you’re not mumbling ‘bitch’ into the camera.”

Breaking the ice, warming the air, significant matters that only she can do and does in the brink of a second. Hansol plops the two bowls of ramen on the table, watching as she scrunches her nose at the cheese to stir it within the mixture, but he tries not to think too much about his decision. Maybe, she’s just not fond of cheese.

“I take that as a good thing. I don’t call anyone ‘bitch’ unless I get a really good check out of it.” Hansol jokes around, soon after widening his eyes when she quirks an eyebrow at him, the corner of her mouth barely lifting in a smirk. “Not that I’d call you anything of the like. Gosh, I’m being stupid. Uh…hi, I’m Hansol.”

“You’ve already said hi.” She prompts, picking up some of the noodles and unlike him, who has already burned the bridge of his mouth, she twirls them on the chopsticks, blows on them and munches on the cheesy treat. “But I didn’t know you were called Hansol. I would’ve sworn on my life that your real name was Zach.”

He shakes his head. “I want my real life nicely divided from who I am as a person online. Not that I am much different, but Hansol’s the name that I have on my ID and that I use for personal matters, so I don’t want to mix the two.” He shrugs his shoulders soon after, saying her name and earning a nod from her. “Okay, so, uh…to the matter at hand, right?”

“Straight to the point.” She clears her throat, giving him a smile before reaching for the diet soda Hansol had brought. “So, half the internet thinks we are dating…and that you’re that supposed side guy that I had while dating Jay.”

He shouldn’t ask. Shit, this is Jeonghan speaking in his brain, telling him to fucking ask, but he’s curious. He heard the nonsensical beat that Jay released in the form of a diss track that now has fifteen million views, so… “Did you really cheat on him or is he taking everything out of context?”

She spreads her hands across her chest, defending herself. “Here’s the thing, I am a woman. Me breaking up with a guy just because I was unhappy in a relationship directly has to mean I cheated on him. For starters, I didn’t. I liked Jay even after the break-up, obviously until the moment he decided to blow everything out of proportion.” She explains, sighing deeply after. “I didn’t, for instance. I’m sorry that you got involved.”

“No, I am the one that should be sorry.” Hansol shakes his head, rubbing his eyebrow as if something was bothering him. “It’s just—No, I’m sorry but I don’t regret it. I had to talk about it. Part of it was because obviously, it’s a trending topic, but also because…no one deserves to get the hate you’re getting right now.”

She remains silent, playing with the straw in between strawberry lips. Not an ounce of makeup and yet, the inside looks as if they were bitten to utter perfection. Hansol’s embarrassed that he has liked every picture of hers on social media ever since they started following each other.

Things that the public had sadly taken account of and had completely used against them to prove a supposed relationship.

“I don’t regret it either. That you did that, I mean.” She counterparts. “Sure, I shouldn’t be thinking about revenge, but Jay has been so distraught and the public has turned against him, while also not being on my side. They are just on your side.” With a mellowness that, somehow, he thinks should never belong to her, for the twist of her lips on a downwards motion is a terrible contrast to the smile he saw earlier. “Reason as to why my friend got in contact with one of the people from your team. I don’t have a team myself—”

“I’m surprised I even have a team, so I don’t judge you.” Hansol’s eyes twinkle, remembering the words he had shared with Seungcheol earlier. After all, he’s the manager and the one—technically, for Hansol still has his input—in charge of what is posted on his channel or not. “Seungcheol, my manager, talked to me about what your friend and mine talked about.”

Seungcheol was not that happy about the exposure that Hansol got, but after a while, Jeonghan weighted the options and became a mastermind for what the internet was aiming to see. They wanted to learn the other side of the story, just because it would be told by one of the most liked characters in YouTube as of now. Zach Chwe, venturing into the world of a person that no one would have ever thought he’d be compatible with. To break all the rumors with a show, a mini web-series for the world to gnaw at while both teams earned money.

“For the record, I know it’s a difficult thing to think about. I wasn’t in for it at first.” Hansol explains, and he’s not sure he’s ready to have a different light casted on his channel, but Jeonghan was clear to say that he wasn’t intending on a dating show or a couple’s channel. Instead, he wanted something…vague. “They just want us to work on a challenge mini-series. We’d do stuff like go to haunted houses or anything of the like. To make people wonder if we really did date or we were just in it for the show. They’d give us views, hoping to find something or any clues, and we’d leave with a good paycheck and a big question mark after what we were.”

She continues eating, pondering with fluttering eyelashes and a sigh that gets trapped on her throat. “Yeah…I’m okay with it. I don’t think it’s a bad idea.” She responds, and Hansol thinks the deal is almost over, but she continues: “You’ll have to keep in mind that while there may be a huge wave of people loving our series together, you might also get a lot of hate. Jay did a great job at—”

“I don’t care.”

“Huh?”

“You’ll come to learn I don’t care about a lot of stuff. Hate? I don’t care.” Hansol explains, giving her a soft smile. “A wanking old man can tell me I’m the worst YouTuber he has ever seen, and I won’t take it to heart. I’m not a plate to be enjoyed by all.”

“Whoa…” She whispers, plucking a lot of noodles up to show it to him. “Not only are you the antonym of a lactose intolerant person, but you’re also awfully wise.”

“You’re welcome for the visit to the bathroom later.” Hansol comments, earning well-heard laughter by her. She tosses her head back and the laugh comes out in spurts. Odd and yet, cute.

“I’ll have to get used to those comments, Z—Hansol.”

“We’ll get used to each other. We have a whole season to plan, after all.”

WE VISITED A HAUNTED HOSPITAL? | EP. 1 S1 | ZACH CHWE

She’d kill Hansol for thinking of visiting a haunted hospital as the first topic of their new show, but she’s too scared to actually want to murder him right now. What if he came back as one of those ghosts who were supposedly here? She can’t risk it.

Drops of petrichor build on forgotten walls, where once were supposedly patients that needed help but were abandoned to a beckoning fire. Hansol said on the way here that he truly doubted the events happened. If the hospital was burned down to its core, why was it still standing and why were tickets sold for people to go through it like tourists in Sydney? She doesn’t have a clue. All that she knows is that they were placed on opposite ends of the hospital, bound to meet through clues, but she hasn’t been able to move from her position under a table.

She was aware that Hansol’s team and hers, which only includes Hyejin, had insisted on having jump-scares all around. One of those jump-scares could be Jeonghan in a clown uniform, but the moment she saw it, the moment she sprinted away. Now, she has been seated there for more than thirty minutes, ignoring her next mission and the door in front of her, with a beating heart and her knees pressed to her chest.

Great, she’s about to ruin their first episode.

Beheld with destiny, she thinks she’s about to shit her pants the moment she hears that old, wooden door creak under the weight of someone entering. Caught, she’s imagined to be, unable to discern between the group of people there to add spice to the video and the actual ghosts that are supposedly in this hospital. However, the first thing she sees are a pair of converses in light green and soon after, someone is kneeling in front of her.

Hansol’s long hair is clouded by a hoodie so thick his earlobes are red, or so she thinks that’s the reason, because his hand pats on the expanded leg of her jeans. Bell jeans were in once again, and she had opted to have them on her outfit. However, Hansol’s high cheekbones lift in a smile when he counterparts:

“If you’re really trying to hide from ghosts, having half of your leg out from underneath the table is not the way to go.” Hansol spares a look at the corner of the room, perhaps pinpointing where the camera is, before she shakes her head at him. She’s still a little shaken, letting out in a trembling tone what must be the most pathetic thing he’s ever heard.

“What if this place is actually haunted?”

“I don’t know percentages, but I am sure someone has died in every possible place on earth. Here, if it’s haunted, or anywhere.” Hansol drags himself under the table, sitting down next to her and taking up the same position she has, though he presses his cheek to the upper portion of his knees. “So, as a matter of fact, every place should be haunted.”

“You’re not helping.” She adds, turning her face to look at him and my God, is Chwe Hansol actually very handsome. He’s different from Jay, with higher cheeks, rounded eyebrows, and a color that resembles honey on tea in his irises. She should look away, not feed into the idea that people have of them being together, but they were meant to act as natural as possible for this show, and looking away has never been more difficult.

“…Said my mom as I helped with the dishes, and my sister after I met her first boyfriend. Helping is not really my biggest forte, but I try.” Hansol shows a full row of teeth when he smiles, like he does it without a care in this world. He probably does. Something about Hansol tells her that he doesn’t really care what people think of him. “But I found you, so I think that’s us winning the game, isn’t it?”

“Is this a park ride for you or something? You’re all smiley and shit.” She tells him, mimicking his smile though hers is a bit more crooked, like she’s trying to push it away so it doesn’t reach him as the most dumbfounded, surprised expression.

“I like this place.”

She feigns a ringing cellphone with a purr of her lips, folding her hand to mimic a phone only to be caught in between his digits, pressed to his ear as if he’s picking it up.

“Yes, hello?” He asks, fluttering eyelashes in between sweetened laughter. One would think that someone like Chwe Hansol was a punch of pink lemonade, but knowing he’s more like a very sweetened soda is a new occurrence.

“It’s your psychologist. He’s asking for another appointment.”

Hansol chuckles at her words, putting down her hand and yet, leaving her with a tingle that awakens in the pit of her stomach and blossoms like butterfly wings across her chest, filling her in with a breath so profound that every single one of her ribs expands with glee.

“They should.” With that, he stands up,extending a slim hand that wavers its fingers for her to grab. Once she does, she’s up her feet, chest to chest with a man who looks at her with pink lips closed together, hiding the row of teeth that she had grown so fond of in just minutes, for how beautiful and calming his smile could be. “I think we should get out and get to the exit—”

What they don’t expect is for the door to bang open, irrupting on their fort and creating a tense atmosphere when they come face to face with a clown, much of the like of what It could look like. And while Hansol laughs from the moment he sees it, she doesn’t. A shout trips from the back of her throat, much like herself, as she jumps onto Hansol’s back and feels his hands contracting against her thighs, catching her just in time. Her eyes, hidden by his neck, are barely touched by the long hairs on his nape that don’t get to be trapped in his beanie, and when she mumbles for them to leave, Hansol starts sprinting like his life depends on it.

Never does he stop laughing, though, as whoever is dressed on the clown outfit follows after them. He’s secure, for some reason, even when they don’t know each other very well, something about Hansol makes her feel as though she is protected. Sheltered from a world that had always been so tough, but with him is just a tiny bit more complex. And for Hansol, that’s okay.

Something tells her that Hansol doesn’t push himself to understand the majority of things. The reason why the world goes around the sun, or why so many people choose heartbreak. He knows he’s a particle, a mere second in a clock, a reason to laugh or a momentum to flee. While she lives through memories, Hansol relishes on breaths. On moments that are here and now, enjoyable and yet, somehow dreamy in the way that they go by so fast.

She doesn’t know him much, but when they reach the exit and the sun bathes them through peaks in between gray clouds, he is still holding her. Even when Seungcheol points Hansol’s camera at them and he’s talking, he still doesn’t let go of her. She hears a faint joke, a reason to part from his neck, but lord does she wish she would not have looked away.

For his face is too close and that mole on his temple is right there, valuable enough to catch her attention.

So, she drops herself to the floor, falling on her knees and raising her hands in the air before shouting to the camera:

“Good fucking Lord, we made it!”

And Hansol laughs, like he does in these situations, but how she wishes that laugh would not feel precisely like home should feel like.

Thirteen million views and just the third episode of the series has been posted. Now, that is breaking records.

She would have never believed the world would become a big number for her. Flop or not valued by the amount of people seeing you; regardless of interest or not. She seeks for that validation—much more after the break-up—. From people who don’t really know her, but love to give conspiracies about how Hansol and she met. They say they are together, and they don’t really deny it. The closer they get through episodes, the more people seem interested in it, and while she’s in the thrive for more—fame, success, whatever the fuck it is that is sedating her, Hansol stays…the same.

He invited her over to his place. So unorganized, just like his thoughts. He leaves his coats hanging on his poor couch, picking them up per demand, with splashes of coffee on the coffee table from early this morning still forgotten. Tonight, on this Saturday night, Hansol has brought soju with himself, licking off the remaining bits of his black bean noodles from his chopsticks. She still has a bit left on her place, but she has opted to sit with her head hanging from the sofa, looking at him from upside down, maybe a bit boozed because of the alcohol he had prepositioned for ‘idea organization’.

“What if we ate noodles on a rollercoaster?” They have planned up to episode ten. The end of the season, after all. But people have been asking for another season, and while it’s not confirmed, a company had ventured into the hardships of wanting to promote them for a second season and that meant giving them ideas on a silver platter in hopes of them liking it enough to support it monetarily.

“You want a POV of us vomiting on a camera. Got it.” She drags, inspecting the way his cheeks turn maroon and how he puts his bottle of soju down, giving her a smile that, if she had to describe, would call it extremely dumb.

“When you put it that way, sounds incredibly hot.”

“Ew, Hansol.” She has gotten used to calling him that name now, a month into their venture and almost four episodes in. Her head starts thumping and with four bottles of soju, she can’t stop thinking. Hansol has almost been like a bubble; he lets her see on the outside and still, protects her in some way. She knows that the death threads are still there, as well as the ongoing rumors with Jay that include her in a love triangle, but with him, recording and a new group of people around them, she has managed to lose herself a bit more. “I can’t think straight at this moment.”

“Probably because you’re losing blood flow.” Hansol drags himself closer to her, never lifting his butt of the ground, twisting her hair in a bun that falls the moment she sits up straight. Not because he told her so, or because she was afraid of losing oxygen in her brain, but rather the reason behind it was that Hansol was a little too close to her. Enough for her to see those beautiful speckles in her eyes.

Yes, so that’s the thing…Hansol is extremely pretty.

Awfully so.

In a drunken state, that’s multiplied by a hundred.

“What if we made a ‘Show Me The Money’ parody?”

Hansol shrugs. “I’d eat you up.”

“You think so?” She slurs, pressing her cheek to the edge of the couch and almost twitching when Hansol reaches for the corner of her joggers, pulling them down where they had bunched at her ankles. That’s when his skin comes in contact with hers, wrapping entirely around that portion of her leg and letting his thumb caress the joint behind it. “Mm, don’t do that.”

“S—Sorry.” And Hansol pulls away at that moment, cheeks even more flushed with the alcohol, eyes widened. “I—I didn’t…”

“It just feels nice.” She tells him in a whisper, dozing off and letting her eyes close as the only thing she can hear in the background is the faint sound of Drake’s latest record and, of course, his calm breathing. “…And I don’t like getting used to it. You don’t know how many times I’ve gotten used to things only for them to hurt me…after…”

It’s the alcohol talking and the sleepiness losing her, because she doesn’t remember what else she had said or why she falls asleep so fast. What she does remember is what she dreams. She sees Jay in dreams, remembering the way his palm fit so snugly around her knee, and how he’d trace the underside of it with how big his hand was. Now, she sees it in third person, in some cramped-up party of the like of those he went to, with his lips spread around another woman’s, doing the same thing he did to her, and somehow breaking apart the little threads left in her heart. Because that’s what men have always done to her—hurt her until she couldn’t recognize herself.

She awakens with sweat pooling at her neckline and breaths unarranged in a manner that has her clasping the first thing she feels. Hansol has turned down the lights, his back pressed to the edge of the couch, head lulled back in a way that will probably have him aching in the morning. His brown hair spreads on top of his forehead like vices, eyelashes straight and long, jaw squared yet somehow relaxed as his lips part. He’s snoring softly, barely audibly, laying there like he wouldn’t move even if the world ended.

So, she drags her hand across his forearm, feeling every bump and mountain of slim muscle until she reaches his knuckles and touches them, shaking his hand in hopes of getting him to open his eyes.

He doesn’t, but he does hum at the mention of his name.

“Hansol…I had a nightmare.” She has them often. Each time, she looks into the shadows of the night hoping for the real monsters to appear. Not the ones that make their guest appearance in horror movies, but the ones that actually hurt her. People that tarnished her heart in ways that now has it stopping from time to time. “I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, but could…could you please hold me? When I’m held, I can fall back asleep.”

“Yeah, sure.” He rasps out, dragging himself towards the couch as she makes him some space. He doesn’t talk about his room or taking up the bed, because he’s probably too sleepy to even care, when he places an arm under her head and lets him square a leg in between his just to make room for the two.

“I’m sorry for getting so close.”

He drags her until her face rests on his collarbone, humming what she can imagine is a ‘no’. “You’re not doing it for anything bad. It’s okay.” He whispers. “Is this tight enough?”

She looks up at him, eyes still closed. So naturally peaceful and yet, somehow blaring war noises inside her head. Ready to flee away just in case her stomach drops to the ground at the mere sight of him. “It’s perfect.”

Hansol shouldn’t feel perfect. Not if season two is ever going to happen.

Usually, the one with the cruel ideas is Jeonghan. Hyejin has finally met up to that standard. Her friend, not his, and that’s surprising. Hansol has to give her some props for the idea of the ninth episode.

‘Never Have I Ever’. He doesn’t think he has played the game since that one moment he joined college. Only recently did he get his degree, and the engineering degree normally doesn’t get invited to the kind of parties that have drinking games, but Hansol was friends with a bunch of people who would take any kind of game as a reason to drink. This one doesn’t include drinking, but it’s either eating something really nasty, laid in front of them on a picnic cloth—there are testicles in there, as far as he knows—or answering.

Hansol should be concentrated on making her eat the five meals that are meant to be eaten by her, but he is tranced by her. Has been since two weeks ago, when he decided that sharing a couch with her was a good idea. Not only did he have to walk away before she noticed that he had accidentally wrapped a hand around her waist while asleep, but he also had to fight off the thoughts that ventured into his head. He didn’t want to be the rebound, but that’s precisely what he would be if he tried to get with her. If he played the cards he does sometimes, when life is a little simpler, of rubbing the back of his neck and buying someone’s favorite Pokémon cards.

It doesn’t help that she has decided to look absolutely gorgeous while they sat on a bench, in a secluded park that Seungcheol had found fitting for filming. Roses scatter around them in the same color of red that splashes on her dress. A loving heart neckline that has him looking down and—fuck, Hansol, don’t be stupid. She’s way out of your league—

“Never have I ever…” She drags her voice while reaching into the hat that was placed nearby for them. He looks at the shape of her mouth, the length of her eyeliner and he wants to punch himself for a second. For staring with that intent, even with cameras around them. For feeling a bit protected in front of them just because everyone thinks they are dating. Or so. “Eaten or tasted earwax.”

“Do I have the face of a man that has tasted earwax?”

“Yes.” She responds, chuckling at him only to have him scrunching up his nose. He looks down at the plate that is served in front of him, this round’s beverage for anyone to enjoy. “Hansol, don’t tell me you have.”

“I’m not sure, but I was a weird kid! May have!” He tells her, picking up his chopsticks and biting into the testicles that he had repulsed from the moment the game started. She throws her head back, laughing like the child in her had awakened at his response, before she’s shaking her head and tossing the card to the side.

“You’re so nasty.”

“Tell me you haven’t done it.”

“Just because I am sure I did it as a kid as well, I’ll help you out with those testicles.” She picks up the chopsticks from his hands, giving it the slightest of bites before sticking out her tongue and dropping it to the ground. “Gross! Jeonghan, where the fuck did you find this stuff?”

“It was Cheol!”

The game continues, with the two of them a point away from either losing or winning. She has her legs spread in front of her, crossed by the ankles, waiting for him to read the card that he’s just opening when his eyes widen for a fraction of a second. Oh, this wasn’t Seungcheol. This has Hyejin’s name written all over it. He knows it because she has been wriggling her eyebrows whenever he makes his way past her, opting to tease him about the ‘obvious crush’ he has on her best friend.

“Never have I ever liked the person across from me.”

Hansol doesn’t move, and he should be drinking the broccoli lemonade that the team prepared, but she moves with a little more precision, as if her anatomy was made to act in cue. His heart stops when she grabs the glass and brings it up to those lips that had been burgundy red at the start of the recording to drink. She closes her eyes, tosses her head back, and gags at the taste, but Hansol is far too lost.

…She had liked him? Then? Now? When?

“Confessions, confessions. Always coming up from these videos.” She is more of a natural in front of the camera, taking his hand and bringing it up in the air as per a champion from a boxing fight. She has won him over, if only if she knew. “We’ve got ourselves a winner. Give a round of applause for Zach Chwe, everyone!”

Hansol can’t even smile. He’s dumbfounded, staring at her profile and seeing her grin in such an easy going way. Though, the moment they say their goodbyes from the video, she pulls away from him, clearing her throat and looking at him as if she expects an answer. One that never comes and leaves him just to stand up, excuse himself out of the park and lock himself in the nearest bathroom.

Being the rebound is not what he wants, but God, would he be lying to himself if he didn’t accept he has liked her for longer than he’d want to admit.

Two months pass by. The first season becomes a success and still, not a word has been uttered about that episode. The subscribers’ favorite episode, but the forgotten episode for those who were involved.

No one asks questions when they come together for VidCon. It feels natural, actually. She doesn’t think she would have been able to just go on her own anymore. As some kind of way the world had planned it, Hansol feels like her counterpart in whatever this is right now. Friendship, work, whatever they have garnered together that people seem to love enough to have a panel for them, where they speak to fans and take pictures together. She notices then that she’s not the only person awestruck by Hansol’s beauty, even when that’s obvious at this point. He looks like a daydream in his black t-shirt, rounded glasses and skinny jeans, smiling in pictures and even joking around with fans.

Sometimes, she just looks at him from the side and blames him for it. For letting things slide so smoothly in between the two after that forbidden episode. He never said a word, neither did he try to clear her head with a kiss to her lips or even a strict ‘no’ that would have her moving on. It’s his fault for being likeable; for giving her a necklace with her initial as a celebration when their first season became a success. For him to receive her with a bowl of noodles for every recording they had each week. For him to tag her on stupid memes on Twitter, not giving a care what anyone could say.

The venue is packed and Hansol gets a little too lost on conversations with a fan that is talking about his beginnings as a gamer—that wasn’t really good to start with—when she feels someone tapping her on the shoulder. Her hips move from the edge of their table, where an enormous poster of the publicity image for the first season of their show spreads in the background, to turn around and respond to the subscriber that was trying to get her attention. Nonetheless, like a clashing thunder in a summer day, Jay stands there looking like the oddest thing she has seen in the past three months.

Because she’s not used to him anymore. Neither has she felt like she was truly comfortable with the idea of him. He’s a few heads taller than her, with his black hair pushed back and the sleeves of his shirt dragged up to showcase his tattoos. He’s smiling when he greets her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and hugging her briefly before he pulls away. They are lucky that is not peak hour and most people have scattered to look at the music presentation that was taking place.

“Jay?” She questions, only to have him smiling proudly, like he would do whenever he got recognized in public.

“The one and only. I had to pass by when I heard you were making it to this year’s convention.” His dark brown eyes splay across the poster behind them, trailing after every detail of the image of Hansol wrapping an arm around her shoulder, both smiling at the camera as they spread their hands in peace signs, smiling gleefully. “Haven’t watched a season of the show, but I might start. It’s fucking everywhere.”

She should not talk to him, but she scoffs at his words, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms across her chest to portray just how closed she is to him, but she doesn’t miss her sarcastic smile. Not an ounce of hate is within her chest anymore, but she recalls the wounds he opened just to make bigger ones. “…Mhm, it’s not the type of show you’d watch. Too much of a big brainer.”

“Oh, come on, you know I’m smarter than I look.”

For the way he plotted the entire internet against her, she knows for a fact Jay could very much be a lawyer or an astronaut if he wanted to. Misspells or not. “I’m certain. I’ve never doubted you’re a cunning, smart little shit.”

“I like that. Might make it my new motto.” Before Jay could venture into more of a conversation, her waist is grounded by a pair of thin arms wrapping around them. Soft skin connecting with her through the fabric of her pink hoodie has her looking back to see that Hansol is hugging her from behind, hiding his hands on the pockets of her hoodie and pressing his chin to her shoulder before whispering into her ear.

“We’ve got stuff to do, remember? Like organizing our things at the hotel and sign some posters for tomorrow…” He never rushes with those things, but at the presence of Jay, Hansol’s a bit more masculine and selfish with time. When she tries to answer him, far too lost in the beauty of him now that he has pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head, pulling the strands of his hair back, his golden eyes have settled on Jay, not even sparing him a grin out of courtesy. “I’ll have to snatch her away from you.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me.” Jay adds, aiming to hurt and taint, but Hansol doesn’t let him. Instead, he pulls her by the strings of her hoodie, interlocking their hands together before speaking closely to her face.

“So, are we going?”

It’s not a doubt that she says ‘yes’. After all, if her heart had grown a bond for Hansol without him touching her that way, having a glimpse of what it could be like to be with him has her brain going feverish.

Hansol is certain about many things. That he likes the color green. He loves tie dye hoodies. That he would die in a beanie if he could. He enjoys weird scary shows, and he would marathon the entirety of Scream in a minute. He is also certain that he doesn’t want to talk to her, as they sit across from each other in his hotel room. Not just because, but for the matter that she was talking to the ex that had done anything in his willpower to push her to be absolutely nothing.

He sits on a brown leather couch, working diligently on signing posters while she has opted not to do so. For the past ten minutes, she has ventured into all the possible conversation topics in order to get him to look up, even smile, but while Hansol likes living his life in tranquility, he also has his angered moments. His blood felt like it had rushed to his knuckles from how tight he was holding them closed when he saw Jay. He couldn’t bear but admit to himself that, while he had opted not to think about her in that light, the idea of her going back to Jay and not with him infuriated him. Sure, she wasn’t his—neither was she anybody’s, for that matter—but if someone had to have her as the person by their side, it had to be him. Right?

Anyone but fucking Jay Lee.

But preferably him.

Yet, she knows how to get the world to look at her with eyes that had been rose-colored by her voice and eyes alone. After ten minutes, she knows that he won’t talk to her and when the beads of silence surround the cream-colored room, he almost imagines that she has left. Only that he gets to see her jean-cladded thighs standing in front of his knees, his eyes darting to her face for a fraction of a second until he sees her. The closeness, the little smile that splays in the corner of her mouth, and that wave to her eyebrows that tells him that she’s a bit confused, amused, but also a tad annoyed.

“Why are you angry at me? I haven’t done anything to get the silent treatment.” God, she’s one of the smartest women he has met. With the way she can think of matters in the spot and make a drawing on the screen the most interesting thing in the world. He knows her commentaries on movies are the most precise, intelligent words that could be said, and yet, he wishes she could wake up and realize that he has been here, all along, for three months and even a bit more, liking her like a complete fool. “Hansol, you either talk to me or you talk to me. I’m not giving you another option.”

“That man was…okay, I’ll talk to you.” Hansol stops himself when he hears just how mortified he sounds when he starts talking, putting the poster he was signing to the side, laying on the table next to him with the other pile of posters. Soon after, he’s spreading his hands on the armrest, leaning back on the couch. “Jay has done nothing but make your life an absolute hell and there you go, just being nice to him, letting him hug you and talk to you—”

“Hold up,” She interrupts him, spreading a hand on her waist. “If I just ignore him or treat him like shit, I’m giving him even more of a reason to talk. I’ll be the first to admit to say that the stuff Jay put me through wounded me in ways that will take more than a few months to work through, but I also don’t want to give him the benefit of being aware of how much he hurt me.”

Hansol can understand that, but he also knows what men like Jay think. He runs his fingers through his hair, groaning through half-parted lips. “He probably thinks he still has you on the palm of his hand.”

“He doesn’t.” She shrugs. “So, what’s the problem?”

“I don’t want to see you with him. That is the problem.” Hansol says, standing up and staring at her, face-to-face. “I know you won’t go back to him but it makes me angry to think you ever thought of being with him. Not only doesn’t he match up with you on looks, but he never deserved you. You could put him on a pan and drop an entire bag of salt on him and Jay Lee would still be flavorless. The biggest mistake you could ever make, and the thought alone of him wanting to be with you—”

“I don’t want to be with him.”

“Yes, but…” You also don’t want to be with me, he completes for himself. Sure, she had once said she liked him, but what reassures him that it wasn’t just for the camera?

“You’re making a big deal out of it!”

“I fucking know!” He exclaims, widening his eyes.

“Then?”

“I will make everything that happens to you a big deal because I care for you. I’ve liked you for God-knows how long. Sorry for getting jealous, but I don’t regret it one—”

She interrupts him before he could say anything else, with her lips spreading across his, savoring the tremor of his mouth before he opens it to the granting touch of her tongue. His bottom lip fits between hers as if they were made for her, her hands gravitating to his waist and pulling him closer, though the fact that she was the one to make the first move did not stop Hansol from adding his own motions. His hands spread on the back of her neck, thumbs coming in contact on the column of her throat and dragging a sweet stripe down, rising goosebumps all over her skin. Hansol tilts his head to the side, a cloud of humidity building from the breath he lets out before kissing her lazily, albeit strongly, like he knows he doesn’t have to do much to do it right.

She would like to punch him, ask him why he never did anything when she confessed to liking him in that video, but Hansol has seated back on the chair, hands landing on her hips as he continues to kiss her, and her thighs part to settle comfortably on his lap. When she pulls away from him, lips tainted in that romantic shade of pink that he leaves everywhere he goes, she traces the outline of his mouth with a peck before she goes down to his neck, hiding in there for a second.

“You had me guessing for so long, Hansol. That’s what assholes do.”

Hansol’s hands rub at her hips, one of the portions she’s more insecure about, but with him it just feels right. “I don’t want to be your rebound.” He tells her, grabbing her by her chin before pushing their lips together once again. He keeps his eyes closed when he speaks against her mouth, just minutes after biting on her bottom lip. “Please, don’t let me be a rebound. If I am, stop me now.”

She’d be crazy to stop him. Not when his mouth looks like a rose petal and her heart feels the more at ease she has felt in a while. Sure, this is always the start of every romance. She knows that men feel comfortable before they destroy her heart even worse than the last time, but something tells her that this is not the case with Hansol. She closes her eyes, venturing into the shape of his mouth to trace it like the map she should have followed a long time ago.

For now, she’ll get lost in him, in the way he makes her feel like she’s the newest star in the sky and he’s drawing it himself. Calling her something that goes unnamed for now.

The word ‘for now’ is so funny. It prolongs in time, so much that three months turn into six, and then, an entire year.

She had said that Hansol’s idea was a ‘for now’. That him, as a person, was temporary as it gets, but the clock was making fun of her as she rushes to his car, holding onto the coldest coffee she could get at this hour of the morning. Some people feel comfortable, not because they are colored certain way or how they make you feel, but what you two make together. Blue and green are colors on their own, but together they make something different. The creation of new matters is what makes the world a little bit more interesting.

Hansol doesn’t enjoy mornings, not after a short night of sleep, and that may be her fault, but with the way he smiles at her when she opens the car’s door, she’s sure he has forgiven her. For how great they felt last night, she’s sure that there were no grudges held. A camera is pointed her way, though she knows that the second season of their show is still being published on her channel and, no way in hell, he would ever post the videos he takes of her. Little vlogs to remember what it was like here, now, forever. God, forever sounds amazing with Hansol.

“Here we have a whole coffee addict, making her way to my sick Porsche.”

“It’s a Toyota, Hansol. Sit the fuck down.” She completes, entering the car and pushing her hair over her shoulder, leaning over the seat to let him taste the coffee. That makes the camera a little too close to her face, laughing and pushing it to the side the slightest. “I’m sure I don’t look that good in that angle.”

“You don’t, but real love will make me say you do.” He completes, sipping a few more times into her coffee before giving it back to her. He has the hood of his shirt all the way over his dark hair, turning off the camera and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before he starts the car.

Talking about their relationship in public was forbidden, for she doesn’t want to blur the line in between the faux relationship and what became real. In fact, it happened with its bumps along the road. She can’t say that everything has been easy, that sometimes her nightmares don’t wake her up with the idea of Hansol leaving one day, or not precisely leaving her, but stomping on her heart before he flees away, but that idea alone is pushed away with a served kiss and a few words that save her from doubting. Hansol is not much of a talker and yet, when he opens those lips of his, he always seems to say the right thing.

So, while the subscribers have never gotten a real video of them admitting to their relationship, it’s almost public notice. She sips on her drink, looking at his profile and the tranquility of him before asking.

“So, I saw a Tweet not too long ago. As I was waiting for coffee, actually.”

“From who?” His voice grows serious, expecting to hear anything from Jay or anyone else on the internet, but she calms him down by interlocking their fingers together, tracing the small promise ring on his finger with her thumb.

“From a subscriber that wanted to point out our supposed beginnings.” She likes looking at those conspiracies from time to time. They are so ridiculous that she can’t help but be amused by how close and obsessed people can get from someone they saw on the internet. Well, as long as it’s kept like a good momentum on someone’s life, and they know not to blur the line, she’s sure it’s okay. “The first picture you liked of me was on April 18th, three years ago. It was a picture of me on my desk, looking down at my I-Pad as I drew, working on my next video.”

Hansol twists his head to the side, laughing to himself a bit before nodding. “I remember that picture.”

“You do?”

“I do.” He looks at her for a fraction of a second before bringing their interlocked hands up, giving it a soft kiss. “Your hair was shorter then. Way shorter. I thought you were pretty.”

“Sometimes, I wish I had met you earlier.”

“Huh, earlier wasn’t our time, I guess.” Hansol responds, letting go of her hand to grab her coffee.

Holding her breath, she looks at his sleepy profile. At him as a person. It has been so long and yet, the words don’t weight on her mouth when she opts to mumble it for the first time:

“I love you, Hansol.”

His eyes twinkle when she says those words, spreading a smile into his face that show all his teeth before he gnaws at his bottom lip.

“I love you, too.”

#vernon scenarios #vernon x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #kpop scenarios #seventeen #vernon #writing #vernon au #vernon fluff #vernon angst #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen au

[seasoned-siffrin]

Toby Rodgers hcs!!!! Jay merrick hcs!!!!!!! Tim Wright hcs!!!!!!!!!!! If u are feeling up for it!!!!!!!!!!

It’s taken me a million years to get to this but here we are. I have so many Toby headcanons that I’m going to dedicate this post to him solely, and I might do some Jay and Tim headcanons later— hopefully that’s okay!! <3

Toby Rogers Headcanons

• I headcanon him to be around 22-24 years old, this is usually the age where I write/portray him as

• He’s 5’9 if he fixed his back, but has a worst slouch known to man so he’s closer to 5’6-5’7

• Demiromantic bisexual

• He/him pronouns but doesn’t mind the others— he’s still cis, he’s just comfortable with his gender

• Hazel-green eyes! On the subject of his eyes, he’s partially blind in his left eye— the same side where he has the gash in his face.

• I’ve always imagined him to have wavy/curly hair! His curl pattern is kinda fucked because he can’t take care of his hair the way he should so it’s mostly just a mess.. it has the potential to be more curly

• It was his step-father, not his actual father, who abused him

• Rather than dying in car crash, Lyra was murdered by their step-dad after a failed attempt to run away together. She was run off the road and killed in a ditch, brought back, and buried in the cellar with the help of their mom. (I took some inspo from David Near’s Toby Adams for this one)

• He ended up killing both of his parents, not just his step-dad, because they both assisted in the death and cover up of said death of Lyra

• The gash in his cheek was initially caused by a broke beer bottle to the face, courtesy of his step father, and due to a lack of proper treatment and his terrible habit of chewing on himself, it is what it is now

• He has rosacea flare ups a lot, giving his normally pale skin a pinkish-red color in his face

• Wears feminine clothing sometimes cuz he’s a pretty boy

• Has some moderate burn scars on his legs, arms, and back from the fire. They would be worse if Slenderman didn’t heal him some to keep him alive

• The reason his hood is blue is because the original hood of his hoodie was ripped off during a quarrel with his bullies in high school, so Lyra cut off the hood off one of her own hoodies to replace his

• His clothing style is a weird mix between cottagecore, goblincore, and grunge— however, he considers himself goth!

• He writes poetry, but, he rarely shares it with anyone

• He eats Crustables RELIGOUSLY

• He refers to his parents by their first names, but slips up with “mom” occasionally

• He has a loooot of piercings. Bro can’t feel it— what’s stopping him?

• His guy has one FUCKED sense of humor. He credits it to his trauma

• He’s got some severe abandonment issues, causing him to cling onto people who have a more mature/guardian contrast to himself, he finds comfort in guidance— but he is still a stubborn little prick

• He doesn’t have a horrible relationship with Slenderman, methinks… he may even see the thing like a twisted father figure, and feels almost in-debt to it for revealing the truth about his sister’s death to him

• Due to his CIPA and the fact that Slenderman doesn’t let him stay dead, Toby does not fear death, and he often acts recklessly and senselessly because of this

• He definitely has AuDHD cuz I said so

• He either can’t get a god damn word out of his mouth, OR he can’t shut the fuck up. It depends on the day and the environment

I definitely have more but this is where I’m stopping for now… I love this freak

#ticci toby #creepypasta #toby rogers #headcanons

[cheeeerie]

I’m so tired. Ninjago Astrology.

Cole is a taurus. DON’T LOOK AT ME AND TELL ME COLE ISN’T A TAUSUS he’s literally a taurus stereotype. his element is earth and he’s friendly and he likes food OBVIOUSLY he’s a taurus.

Kai is a Leo stereotype the way that Cole is a taurus stereotype he’s just pure leo. His element is fire and he’s obsessed with himself, what more do you want from me?

Three for three of elements matching elements, Nya is a Scorpio, she’s prickly and secretive but also ambitious with a sense of humor. Her whole Seabound arc is an extremely scorpio arc to have. And the SNARK I’ve never met someone snarkier than a scorpio.

No more elements matching signs <\3

Zane is extremely smart, efficient, and serious. he is also the dumbest little guy alive. How very Capricorn of him. Extremely uncool when he tries to be but then is accidentally cool when he’s not trying. “It is good to have a pooper at the party :)” That’s such a Capricorn thing to say.

Jay is a gemini cause he’s curious and enthusiastic and doesn’t know how to shut the fuck up! His emotions switch up with the slightest provocation. points for being nosy I’ve never met a nosier sign than a gemini.

Lloyd is a Pisces, just like every chosen one. He’s compassionate and dedicated to protecting others to the point of self destruction. He also hold grudges for FOREVER and can’t help but interject himself into every conflict. HE CAN’T HELP IT YOUR HONOR HE’S A PISCES!

Pixal is SO Sagittarius core. She’s independent, she’s confident, she’s a little naive, she’ll beat your ass! Also thinking she can talk her way out of any situation is so Sagittarius. That time she was being attacked by a giant octopus and she was like “Don’t worry Zane I have the power of Asking Nicely™” that was very Sagittarius of her.

AAAARGH I’M SO SLEEPY

Arin is a Virgo. He’s just a little guy, he’s easily impressed, he takes everything personally, he tells the same stories over and over. He’s a little chaotic but very sweet about it. Stealing from someone but leaving them a pie so Virgo.

SORA! AQUARIUS! She’s brilliant, she’s passionate, she’s rebellious, she’s innovative, she has zero self confidence and would rather die than tell people anything about herself. Inventing something that gets used for evil and then running away and changing your name and never talking about it again until forced? How very Aquarius.

Alright that’s all I can’t think anymore

#ninjago #FUCK I FUCKING HATE TAGGING EVERYONE WHY DO I KEEO INCLUDING A MILLION CHARACTERS IN EVERY POST #jay walker #pixal borg #cole brookstone #zane julien #nya smith #kai smith #lloyd garmadon #arin ninjago #sora ninjago #I didn’t proofread this could you tell? #If you say anything about homestuck in the rbs I’ll blow you up with my mind

[checkoutmybookshelf]

Past Artemis and Present Artemis Are Not Allowed in the Same Room

If Number 1 kind of nudged the door open to time travel and wibbly wobbly timey wimey shenanagins in Lost Colony, then Artemis full-on kicked it down and yeeted a grenade through it in this book. Let's talk Artemis Fowl: The Time Paradox.

As per usual, SPOILERS ABOUND below the break.

There are a ton of things about this book that are amazing and in order to stay at least a little organized, we're gonna use HEADINGS this time around! That's not to say the headings are in any particular order, but life has been lifeing and I need a little help making sure I gush about everything I want to here. Because while Eoin Colfer introduced time travel in the last book, this one is a whole TIME PARADOX PLOT!

Opal Koboi, Empress of our Hearts

So, there are places for nuanced, complex, morally gray villains who have carefully throught-through ethoses and who are compelling because of their tragedy. Those kinds of villains are great.

Opal Koboi is not that kind of villain.

Opal Koboi is a villain in the classic Disney sense. She is absolutely unhinged, wants nothing more than to be Empress of the Goddamn World, and absolutely revels in setting things on fire just to watch them burn. She is rock-solid on her own worth, she is terrifyingly intelligent, and she is equally fun when she is strutting around in her own success as when she is pitching a dramatical cats tantrum because somebody said "ethics" in her presence. Our girl is sheer fun from start to finish, and honestly I love how consistent she is.

In this book, we see Opal before the events of The Arctic Incident, and it's great to know that she has ALWAYS been unhinged and glorious. If anything, this book shows us that the plan to use the B'wa Kell to take over Haven was weirdly vanilla for Opal. Sucking the bodily fluids out of endangered animals to basically Captain America super serum herself is...way more on brand.

The bit where she is too narcissistic and paranoid to stay in character as Angeline Fowl for more than like 60 seconds once Jay Jay is in the room is also AMAZING. Talk about getting in your own way...

Artemis vs. Artemis

So sometimes as a series gets increasingly lengthy, it's good to remind readers and character how much your protagonists have grown. Eoin Colfer decided that time travel was a great way to take advantage of this, and reveled in it by giving readers 10-year-old Artemis's opinion of 18-year-old Artemis and vice versa for the entire book, and it is SO FUN. They both hate each other, and understandably so. They both also have qualities that the other begrudgingly respects, and ultimately they need BOTH Artemises to resolve the plot.

We also get some really lovely instances of Artemis outsmarting and bamboozling himself. This conceit had every chance of coming off as cringe as hell, but Colfer handed it with enough humor and humanity to make it feel real rather than like a whole book devoted to a vanity plot centered on Artemis thinking he's the best thig since sliced bread.

Artemis...That was WILDLY Uncool to do to Holly

Ok, so Artemis has grown a lot over the course of five books. He's matured. He's learned how to be a reluctant antihero. He and Holly are legit friends. Which somehow manages to make it EVEN WORSE when Artemis full-on knowingly tricks Holly into thinking that she not only gave his mother a fatal illness but also started a plague that at one point killed 20% of the fairy population in three years. There's honestly no coming back from that kind of breach of trust.

And no, giving Holly a chance to say goodbye to Commander Root does NOT make Holly and Artemis square. It nicely ties up a loose emotional thread, but it does NOT square the emotional devastation of infecting a friend's mother and starting the plague 2.0. That is possibly the least believable relationship dynamic in a book where Artemis and Holly KISS (no, we're not gonna talk about it, they were both under the influence of the time stream and it doesn't count).

The truly wild thing about this is that Artemis before the fairies was a cold-hearted little bastard capable of incredible cruelty, but once Artemis understands feelings and emotional relationships, he's suddenly capable of hurting people WAY MORE than he could when he was a tiny robotic human. And of course the person he takes aim at is HOLLY SHORT. Like, FFS, Artemis. You did less damage when you had the emotional intelligence of a gold ingot...

Butler

Domovoi Butler is too good for this world and we do not deserve him. Artemis sure as hell does not deserve him, past OR present. Past Butler full on calls 10-year-old Artemis out on the act that he is *checks notes* handing over the last of a species to a group of fanatics to be horribly murdered in a kangaroo court, fully sells a sentient elf to those same fanatics, does not emotionally let Artemis off the hook when he is experiencing guilt and shame over being an accessory to murder and extinction, and TURNS THE PLANE AROUND to go save Holly and 18-year-old Artemis from the extinctionists. And thats just past Butler.

Present Butler is such a goddamn badass that he resists a juiced-up Opal Koboi's mesmer so hard that he gives himself a heart attack. Not even Opal Koboi can pull a 180 on Butler's moral compass, and even when he can't fully fight her off, he can resist in little ways, like sticking breathing tubes in barrels. Someone let this man retire happily, he has MORE THAN earned it at this point.

Baby's First Ecocritical Text

Environmentalism and ecocriticism have been very present as secondary themes in the Artemis Fowl series from the very first book, but this is, I believe, the first book where this theme gets really explicit and has real, concrete plot consequences and implications. The "hunting animals to extinction is bad for [list of reasons]" isn't the deepest or most nuanced version of the argument, but it doesn't have to be. The audience for these books are middle graders and YA readers. They get a concrete introduction to ecocriticism and some very comprehensible examples of the consequences of extinction and pollution, and that's going to be enough for more of them than you'd think to keep thinking and reading about the issue.

I highlight this because so few middle grade and YA books do ecocriticism at all, let alone this clearly and concisely. I suspect we will see more of this as climate change keep wreaking absolute havoc on quite literally everything, but these books did it before it was cool, and I really appreciate that about them.

Overall, this book is not my favorite of the series. Time travel can be a hard sell, even if you weave the complexities of time travel around a relatively simple fetch quest. As per usual though, the character work is never not entertaining, and I do enjoy rereading this one periodically.

#eoin colfer #artemis fowl #artemis fowl the time paradox #the time paradox #time travel #holly short #domovoi butler #opal koboi #middle grade sci fi #middle grade fantasy #middle grade books #middle grade fiction #books & libraries #books and reading #books and novels #books #book recommendations

[albatmobile]

The Art of Rehabilitating Snowbirds Chapter 19

𓅪 After not hearing from Roy or Jason for five years, you suddenly find yourself taking in extra income as a babysitter for Roy and Jason's child.

𓅪 Rated: M | TW: violence, blood | 9.1k includes: sparring, you regina george cheshire’s ass, change in scenery :o

fem!Reader x Jason Todd x Roy Harper [masterlist]

Chapter 19: Crazy Train | ao3 - wattpad

You stay up all night creating a plan. 

You wake up with a page of notes stuck to your face until Jason blearily reaches over to tug it off. He sleepily caresses your cheek and kisses at the ink that remains stuck to your skin. 

Unfortunately, Stephanie isn’t able to babysit again as she’s shipping out on a recon mission to Japan at o’dark hundred. 

A quick glance around proves it’s still dark out and Lian isn’t running around yet, so it’s not even five yet. You could try to go back to sleep, but you know sleep will only elude you with the impending battle ahead. Roy, on the other hand, seems to find it as his snores quake the quiet atmosphere of the late hour.

This is, apparently, the perfect time to spar.

Jason’s sleepy nature quickly turns to something more playful as he urges your yawning form to get up from the table. He apparently has some sixth sense and knows you’re up for the day. 

He leads you over to the living room where he lifts up the furniture to create more floor space.

“Jay,” you start with another tear-producing yawn that Roy, now effectively awake, joins in with as you both hazily move to humor Jason.

“Don’t be shy. Show me what you remember. Nope,” Jason places his firm hands on your shoulders and kicks your stance further apart. “Come on, little bird. You’ve kicked my ass plenty of times.” 

The nickname had your heart fluttering in the best way this time.

“You let me kick your ass plenty of times,” you roll your eyes. “Don’t play coy now, Jason. It’s unbecoming of you.”

“Still talk like the demon child when you fight, too,” he squares up with a challenging smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Good to know.”

“Fuck off.” 

With your stance corrected, you waste no time in advancing on Jason. 

Roy startles more than Jason, something you’d laugh at if you weren’t so busy dodging Jason’s fists. He isn’t starting off as easy as he had all those years ago when you started. This, coupled with being five years out of practice, leaves you feeling like a complete dumbass.

And, the worst part? Roy’s here to see it.

Why couldn’t he have been there to witness the library fiasco? You’d done a flip, for fuck’s sake!

“You’re sloppy,” he strikes near your head. “Stop holding your breath.”

You know he’s just trying to rile you up, so instead, you focus more on your defense. 

You hone in on your breathing, calming it as you try to grant yourself some distance from him.

He instantly notices and, with one swift jerk of his head, motions over to his boyfriend. Roy begrudgingly shakes off the rest of his sleep as he taps in.

The little space you’ve created is gone in seconds as Roy skillfully advances on you with a wolfish smile, “Stop hiding. Let’s dance, princess.”

You don’t rise to his bait. 

The brief downtime you have is spent putting the couch between yourself and Roy. You calculatedly leap away from his predicted lunge over its back, much to Jason’s chagrin and Roy’s annoyance. 

He corrals you directly into Jason’s path, who wastes no time in toppling you to the floor. However, you’re able to maneuver the fall into a fucked up sort of somersault and somehow end up coming out on top. You land a closed fist on his stomach and drop into a push-up over his body to avoid Roy’s fist.

“Two on one?” you pant, heaving your chest off of Jason’s face before rolling off and to the side to avoid another one of Roy’s hits. “That’s dirty.” 

“Holy shit,” Roy’s eyes are absolutely wild as he takes in your reactive nature. “You are so fucking hot.” 

Your ankle snakes over Jason’s to trip both of them at the same time. You use this distraction to run for the safety of their kitchen island.

“No jumping on my counters,” Jason warns, but it goes unheard as Roy gets a running start to land right where your head was. Instead, he runs directly into the cabinet ahead, earning a searing glare from Jason. “She’s your kid if she wakes up,” is all he says before getting back into position to trap you in between the two of them. “Not like this will take much longer.”

That’s it. 

“Fuck,” your fist connects with his side, “you.” You land a front kick to his chest, toppling him backward. You strategically use his momentum to grab his shirt and swing his falling weight into Roy like a sack. 

Jason groans a bit when he gets up, helping Roy in the process. Both share the same impressed grin. 

“Good to see you’ve still got it, babe.” You’re horrified when he readies himself for more. “Now, go again.”

•••

By the time Jason determines the session to be over, neither has broken a sweat. 

You, on the other hand? 

Your hair’s plastered against your face and you’re pretty sure the sweat on your back is visible because Roy’s t-shirt clings against it with your every move. You’re definitely out of practice. 

“Hit the showers,” Roy smacks you on the ass with the blanket Jason has draped over the couch ‘to add texture to the interiors of the room,’ as he puts it. 

What you hadn’t realized was that hitting the showers meant that they were going to fuck while you’re rinsing off.

Just like last time, you doubt your thoughts when the first few grunts ring out. 

Your hand hesitates dragging the suds of your body wash over your stomach momentarily as your ears focus on whatever noise is happening in the bedroom. 

It sounds again, this time clear as day.

No fucking way. 

The slapping of skin and actual smacking along with you rubbing at your clit has the three of you engaged in a contest of who can moan the loudest without waking the neighbors. 

They win easily, considering you barely last long enough for the heat of the water tank to lessen. 

You rinse out your conditioner and wait just a tad longer in the shower until you’re sure everything’s settled down in there, just in case you’ve been reading into everything wrong. 

They merely chuckle as you appear and toss a towel in Roy’s direction to wipe Jason off with. He gives it to Jason, but not before he can turn around and give you a full display of his pale, freckled ass. 

Modesty be damned, you suppose.

You don’t know what confidence overcomes you, but you drop your towel without a second thought. Both their eyes snap to your body as they take in your curves, highlighted by the moonlight spilling into their room.

Jason eyes you hesitantly, but Roy welcomes you by reaching out and tucking a stray strand of wet hair behind your ear, “Gonna get my pillow wet, princess?”

“Something like that,” you mutter, spending extra time wiggling into a comfortable position before motioning for Jason to curl against you like usual.

You shiver into Roy as Jason’s calloused fingers drag lazily along your waist, reveling in the way they trickle down to your thigh. It’s hard to ignore that both of their dicks are currently pressing flush against your naked body, but you somehow manage to keep your flush down to a bare minimum. Literally.

Roy doesn’t even try to hide the way he breathes you in. “You smell good,” it’s grumbled against your neck like your body wash is the absolute bane of his existence.

The lines aren’t exactly clear, but, hey, have they ever been?

“Your husband is right there, weirdo,” you jokingly push against his bare chest and instantly regret it. The contact only makes you want to get closer to see just how far you can take it before-

Roy’s firm grip settles against your hip to put an end to your wiggling, “He’s not my husband yet.” 

Guess that’s how far.

“Like that makes this any better,” you huff, but Jason merely resumes his light, pampering touches across your skin until your breathing evens out. 

•••

All according to plan; when morning comes, you settle down with your coffee and laptop in your car. 

Lian’s cheerful little kicks in the air move in tandem with her epic toy battle she has spread out in your back seat. The dawn of dinosaurs is nearing, but the Barbies won’t back down without a fight- from what you’ve gathered, at least.

Roy’s reconning the warehouse where the bomb had been manufactured while Jason’s on the other side of town messing up a shipment of weapons arriving in Two Face’s territory. You know, however, based on your conversation with Damian, that he’s most likely going after the coin lead and is choosing to keep you in the dark.

Whatever.

When they asked for your help hacking, you assumed they at least had the decency to have decent WiFi, but did they? No. These dumbasses have you hacking into a private server for classified information via the guest Wifi at the Internet Cafe next door. 

Yes, those places still exist.

There’s only so much information you can gather without hacking into the server’s VPN. You spend a few minutes scanning available reports before getting irritated. None of this shit was useful.

Your fingers perch over your keys as you ponder how far you want to dig. Is your VPN strong enough to block theirs from tracking your location? You really didn’t know who you were dealing with here, let alone what technology they possessed. 

You have to decide if you’re willing to risk it all.

You know it’s a double-edged sword. Once you connect, you’ll be able to see them, but they also might be able to see you. You just hope your VPN holds against whatever cybersecurity they might have. 

Hacking in wasn’t too hard, so it seems like whatever security they have is pretty dismal. Good.

With full access, you begin searching the new files now accessible on the server, becoming lost in the words that flash across your screen. You’re so focused that you don’t notice the attack on your firewall, at least until you get the notification that your VPN has been disconnected.

Fuck.

One moment you’re reading and the next, your fingers are flying across the screen to download whatever files you can manage.

You really didn’t know who you were dealing with, yet you still took the risk.

Holy shit, you’d completely underestimated them. It’d taken them all of, what? 15 minutes to breach your connection… You’re fucked. You know they’re coming for you.

What you don’t expect is for them to come after you as quickly as they do.

You’re three pages into a trial report download when you see it.

“No." Staring back at you are two familiar names whose last names match your own. "No, it can’t be…” You aren’t able to click any further when you notice movement out of the corner of your eye in the rearview mirror. “Lian,” she glances up from the tablet with tiny, knitted brows, “I need you to do exactly as I say, okay?”

“Yes, mommy,” she nods obediently and sets down the toys in her hands.

You waste no time in clicking on Roy’s contact, knowing he's the closest as you usher Lian to hide under the seat. You shoot off an SOS message, but when the call gets sent to voicemail you’re forced to turn your attention back to the situation at hand.

You’re on your own.

“Stay put, stay quiet,” you place an Alice and Wonderland blanket over her tiny form. “I need you to be brave like you were before at the coffee shop. Do you understand what that means?”

Do you understand we’re in danger? 

She nods, showing obvious signs of being spooked, though she allows you to finish placing the blanket over her.

“If anyone tries to get in the car, run and hide really well. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes,” she hesitates for a moment as if she doesn’t know if she should divulge this information or not. “I’m scared,” she whispers finally.

“Me too and that’s okay. I love-”

“Aww, how sweet,” a deep, melodic voice reverberates throughout the packed parking garage. You look from your left to your right but don't see any movement. Your breathing picks up as you shift your body to face forward in the car again. Had it all been a figment of your imagination? “ Not.”

No, not imagination. Definitely not your imagination.

Your heart stops, then rapidly flutters into a frenzy at the sinister resoluteness of the female voice. You don’t even realize you’re holding your breath as you survey the expanse of concrete in front of you until you smack backward into the headrest, startled by a crimson cardinal taking flight. You snort lightly, placing a comforting hand over your heart in a vain attempt to calm it after the false alarm. 

Head in the game.

You hand your phone to Lian and guide her finger over to the call button on Roy’s contact, nodding encouragingly when she presses it. 

“Keep pressing that button, chickie. Tell dad we need help.”

“Help?”

You nod, wishing you’d at least tried to call Jason, hell, even Damian, but it's too late now. You feel like you’re going to need all the help you can get with whoever this creep is.

Based on your previous encounters, this didn’t seem like any type of thug you’d dealt with before. This woman, whoever she is, carries a dangerous edge, making the other goons seem dull in comparison.

You’re already unbuckled with the doors locked, but you allow your hand to make its way to the door handle, ready at any moment for the voice to reveal herself.

Passenger side mirror.

Your head snaps to follow a tuft of black that stuck out just beyond the beginning of the window.

Got her. 

You take one last look at Lian before bracing the door handle. 

It’s now or never. 

She opens the door just as you open yours. You tumble out just in time, watching as a dart is thrown centimeters away from where your head had just been. Your head snaps up to see a familiar mask and dodge the barrage of three other darts she sends your way.

Oh, shit.

You slam your door shut and panic when you see the back door open to reveal a shell-shocked Lian.

“Mommy?”

“Yes?” you and Cheshire respond in unison. 

You stare at each other briefly in confusion, though, luckily, your sense of urgency kicks back in faster than hers. It only offers you a few seconds headstart, but you’ll take all the help you can get right now.

“Lian!” you yell as Cheshire finally tears her attention away from Lian to bound over the hood of your car. “Remember what I told you.” 

You’re too busy dodging what appears to be sais to see if Lian’s taken off to hide or not, so you try to keep Cheshire as far away from your car as possible. You dodge a few more timed attacks until it’s obvious to her that you aren’t planning on going down easy. 

You’re not stupid enough to attempt the flips you used to know, but your form comes back easily enough. Plus, your reflexes aren’t quite as shit as they’d been when you sparred the previous night, so manage to hold your own. For how long, though, is the real question.

She can easily overpower you and the more impatient she becomes, the more accurately timed and lethal her swipes become. You’re lucky when a particular stab of hers gets her sais jammed into some unlucky person’s car. 

This is the perfect opportunity to escape.

You’re scrambling, weaving in and out of cars, hoping to lose her, but you’ve watched enough Young Justice with Lian to know the assassin’s a ruthless hunter. Though, it also means you know some of her signature moves. You do a mental checklist: avoid poisoned darts, avoid poisoned sais, avoid the kunai, avoid Cheshire.

Check, check, no dagger yet and an in-progress check.

You struggle to push past the strain in your legs. Your lungs burn pathetically and your heart’s hammering against your rib cage, threatening to explode through your pulsating flesh. Your rapid pulse beats along every inch of your being, heating your skin uncomfortably as it does. 

Training, you nod to yourself. You definitely need more training.

Right now, however, it’s time to give it all you’ve got with what you’ve got. You know you need to push through the pain and get your head level again. 

It’s hard to forget that Lian’s still very much in danger, if not for the sole fact that it’s her mom. You’ve never seen her interact with Lian and you aren’t about to let her get close enough to find out if she’ll hurt Lian or not. Cheshire attacking you with her daughter right there already speaks volumes and you don’t really like what those volumes are saying. 

You know you’ve only thrown the assassin off for so long. What little downtime you have, you need to use strategically to your advantage. You shift your focus to coverage. If you find coverage, she won’t have enough room for the signature blows she’s known for. Either that or you need to get back in your car.

“You’re slippery,” you don’t have time to process anything Cheshire's saying as she finds you and unsheaths- “just like a white rabbit.” Annnd there’s the dagger you’ve been waiting for. She presses it menacingly against your stomach before body slamming against the car you’d been hiding behind. You groan out in pain as she forces your face to meet hers, “They call me Cheshire, darling,” she tilts her mask to the side, sending an eerie shiver down your spine as her dark eyes search yours. There’s nowhere to run to. “I’m always mad enough to catch up.”

Huh? 

Maybe it was the impact from the car, but the bitch was making no sense.

“Wait- you’re mad, or you’re mad?” She's definitely mad crazy, but she has no reason to be mad or angry with you. You’ve only ever seen the woman in 2D.

The look she offers in return leaves no doubts in your mind.

She stabs you one good time in the stomach and pulls back to plunge again when Roy shows up amidst your horrified screams. 

“Is this a literal custody battle?” Roy’s bionic arm fires off a round of arrows out of his semi-automatic crossbow feature. She pulls you in front of her and he instantly raises his hands in surrender, slowly moving forward to close the distance without trying to test her patience. “Wouldn’t it’ve been easier to just subpoena my ass or something?”

“Maybe I could if she were actually yours,” she flips her long black hair over her shoulder, leaving you a minuscule window of opportunity to drop from her grasp. “You know, legal loopholes and such.” 

You make your move, leaving Roy momentarily stunned by your quick instincts. Luckily, he recovers faster than Cheshire. This time, he fires off a smoke bomb that hits the car next to her, causing it to explode upon contact.

Now’s the perfect time to get back to the car. 

You use the smoke as cover, wasting no time in dropping to avoid the blind swipe of her blade. 

Roy, however, isn’t so lucky.

“Shit,” he hisses as the blade makes contact.

In the process of pulling your shirt over your nose to prevent any coughing, you wince as the sliding fabric glazes over your fresh wound. However, there’s no time to stop and inspect just how bad it is when she’s this close. You gather your bearings to run, crouched, amongst the rows of cars.

Roy seems to be keeping her occupied enough when you peer around your cover to see Jason finally making an appearance. You notice his lack of guns, figuring it's probably out of fear of ricochets. Not knowing where Lian is seems like enough incentive not to bring any firepower to the mix, anyway.

Wait…

Suddenly, you see Lian not even 10 feet away, lying on the ground with her blanket covering her.

“You left a trail, little rabbit!” her shrill voice sounds like it's only a few cars behind you and closing in quickly.

You raise a brow at the odd nickname but take the time to rip off your shirt and tie it tight around the wound as a tourniquet. At least you're wearing your cute bra today. Who are you kidding? At least you're wearing a bra at all today.

By the time Cheshire sniffs you out, you’re halfway across the lot with Lian in your sights. From this angle, you’re sure she doesn’t see Lian and you intend to keep it that way.

She lunges for your exerted form. It’s at this moment you truly face the fact that, holy shit, you’ve been stabbed.  

“Agh!” your wound protests vehemently as you duck and roll, immediately regretting taking the fight to the ground. It’d been a call made in desperation, but it’s one that may just put an end to you. 

“Ah, ah.” Roy tuts and sends a few well-aimed shots her way, sending her clamoring off you. “I thought we were playing. You’re gonna break my heart.”

Your breath stops as her sais slice through Roy’s armor, impaling him once again. “Yeah, that was the idea,” she holds the weapons in him for a moment longer, twisting them agonizingly into his flesh before withdrawing them with a sickening, slick noise.

You watch for a few moments more as Roy stumbles to his feet, getting out of the way of where Jason’s got Cheshire engaged in hand-to-hand combat. 

You need to focus: get to Lian, get to the car.

You’ve bled enough by now that you’re feeling a mental strain, but you push through enough to get to Lian.

“Hey, chickie,” you wipe away the tears in her eyes, swaying as you crouch in front of her. Your hand smacks to the floor for support as you waver slightly. “I need you to stay right here. Don’t move, okay? Even when you see my car, alright? Stay very still and very quiet.” You want to say more, but you risk drawing Cheshire’s attention your way if you do. You take a few deep breaths and attempt to regulate your breathing, but it never does.

The hardest thing to do is leave Lian the second time. At least you know she’s safe. 

You give her a tight hug and begin to run off, but you end up stumbling and falling to the ground as your vision tunnels around you. 

This isn’t good. 

Can’t run? Can’t crawl? You groan in pain as you flip yourself onto your back to drag yourself the remaining distance. Your wound permeates pain in protest with each pull. Each drag adds a new set of scrapes on your exposed back, though it’s better than subjecting your stab wound to the dirty garage conditions. 

By the time you reach the car, your head feels as clouded and dizzy as it had when you’d smoked weed with Jason and Roy all those years ago. 

You hoist yourself off the ground sluggishly, missing the handle entirely. You fall flat to the ground below with a pained cry. Your sniffles steadily pour out of you as you come to the scary realization you don’t have enough in you to do anymore. 

You’re really going to bleed out right here and now on the pavement of this godforsaken parking garage. 

You think of Lian, who's been forced to watch you drag yourself; now she has to watch you die too? 

You haven’t given everything you have because you’re still breathing, blinking, still in pain, still alive. You’re still alive and you intend to keep it that way.

It’s by the grace of whatever gods, or lack thereof, are out there that your keys have remained on you throughout this whole ordeal. Their presence alone is enough motivation to get you moving. You’re just glad no one else is around to see you flopping around so pathetically as you maneuver your body into the driver’s seat. 

You pause.

As soon as you shut the door, she’ll be on you. As soon as you turn on the car, she’ll be on you. These are facts you force yourself to come to terms with as you prepare to face her one last time. 

You gulp and force your focus on the blurry figures moving ahead of you until you���re able to make out Roy’s red hair on the ground. Cheshire looks like she’s about to put Jason in the very same state.

Breathe.

You buckle your seatbelt.

Breathe.

You drag your remaining leg inside the vehicle with a weak groan.

Breathe.

You don’t have any more time to waste. 

The car door slams shut at the same time the engine turns over. 

Just as you anticipated, she’s searching for you as soon as the sound rings out into the concrete abyss. What she hadn’t anticipated is for you to have enough balls to actually go through with mowing her down. Jason, on the other hand, knows you’re crazy enough to run someone over and throws himself backward, out of the way of her strike, just clear of the hood of your car. 

Cheshire… Well, not so much.

Familiar fiery locks come into view as Roy rips off your car door with his bionic arm. You can hardly focus when the impact of the small crash, coupled with your wound and blood loss, has you fighting to remain conscious. The pain alone’s becoming unbearably euphoric and you can’t imagine that means anything good. 

You need medical attention and stat.

“It’s over, baby,” Roy pants as he holds your half-naked torso in his arms. “It’s over- it’s okay. You did good, baby,” you nod at him through the panting.

“We got her?” you manage blearily.

“Yeah, you got her.” 

Your adrenaline has prevented you from feeling too much of your injury, but the ripples of pain become stronger with each passing moment as the hormone wears off. You clutch desperately at your stomach. Both you and Roy are horrified when you pull back to see the slick amount of blood that pools from your palms. A quick glance down proves your makeshift tourniquet has already completely soaked through. 

Yeah, this isn't good.

“What happened?” Jason has an unharmed Lian in his arms. You’re finally able to breathe again. 

He’s frantic, but in the haze of your blood loss, you’re not exactly sure why. 

“It’s good. It’s okay,” you try to repeat Roy’s words back to him, but for some reason, they’re coming out slurred. “It’s okay.”

And it is.

•••

When you come to, Roy’s standing over you in what you realize is the apartment’s tub. 

You’re in your bra and underwear with a towel covering your waist down. 

“We’ve got you. You’re safe.” 

You’ve become familiar with those words with this family. 

“Lian!” you call out, suddenly remembering you hadn’t been alone.

“Not a scratch,” Roy assures you with a sincerity you aren’t used to. “Thank you. Seriously,” he says your name as he tilts your chin up to meet his tired eyes. “You... you have no idea- I have no idea what I’d do if I lost either of you.”

You have no time to react before he’s dragging you into a slow, sweet kiss that would probably be considered chaste for Roy but leaves you reeling nonetheless. 

“What the fuck?” 

Roy pulls away from you with a whine, “Jay.”

He says nothing further, just sets down the set of clothes he’d been carrying before coming to your side to begin the lengthy process of stitching. 

•••

You hear Jason and Roy fighting in the bathroom when you wake up alone in bed- their bed. 

You stir further, noting the early hour. Lian wouldn’t be up for another hour or two at the very least, so they didn’t have to worry about that, but you were once again reminded of just how much you were intruding on their life.

Now you’ve gone and kissed Roy.

You feign sleep when they come back out, though Jason sees right through it. He smacks you on the hip and motions for Roy to join you on the bed so he can redress your wounds.

“I don’t want to come between the two of you,” you say quietly, then wince at a particular tug. Roy unwraps the dressing as Jason flits about the hallway for more materials, “That’s not my intention at all.” 

“That’s not the issue,” he rubs calmly at your side in apology. “Even if it was, I kissed you first,” he hesitates before sighing. “Jay’s just thrown off by the whole thing s’all,” he sees your worried face and quickly adds. “About the attack, not the kiss. It was good- I mean,” he clears his throat with his voice now coming out deeper, “You liked the kiss. Did you? I mean… Fuck,” he backs off, shutting his eyes tightly. “Just forget I even opened my mouth,” he rubs sheepishly at the back of his neck. You watch as his strawberry tresses cascade across his eyes as he looks busies himself with your wound.

When Jason comes in, you look up. He’s staring you down with a curious intensity that has you questioning his steadfast gate. You’re sure as fuck not expecting him to walk over and peck the corner of your mouth, but he does.

“How are you feeling?”

You’re momentarily stunned by the brief contact, only to startle at Roy's obnoxious laughter.

So, their fight really hadn’t been about the kiss, then?

Oh.

“Uh, yeah,” you nod dumbly. “Good,” you mentally berate yourself for being as tongue-tied as Roy had been with you. “Feeling like I got stabbed, but yeah, still good.”

“Cool,” he nods and moves to deal with your wound first.

You pull off the shirt they’ve put you in, only hesitating after the fact when you realize you’re still wearing your bloodied bra. You quickly rid yourself of the reeking fabric, trying to seem unphased that you’re currently on full display.

“Cool,” you say, completing your inside joke with an embarrassed flush that puts a pleased look on his face.

He sets to work quickly and delicately. In the daze of your sleep-riddled, injured mind, you’ve forgotten that Roy also needs his wounds tended to.

“Well, isn’t this familiar?” Roy winks from beside you as Jason carefully dotes over the two of you. Roy’s flirtatiousness only serves to make things worse as your nipples start to harden in the cold air. Roy, the fucking pervert he is, notices instantly. “Jay’s always had the best hands, don’t you think?”

You feel the goosebumps his touch leaves in its wake and are sure they’ve both been noticing, too. 

The entire mood changes when he actually begins to clean, though. You cling to Roy for support, wishing you had something to bite down on. 

“I know, I know,” Jason coos while Roy’s fingers trickle up and down your arm as he tries to distract you from the pain. 

You’re a tough bitch. Like, all things considered, a really tough bitch.

Come to think of it, you hadn’t even cried when you'd been stabbed. If you could take the wound, you could take the aftercare. At least, that’s what you’d thought until Jason’s fingers came across a particularly sore area. The damning touch shoots pain to your very core, leaving your back arching off the bed with a sharp moan. 

“I’m sorry, babe,” Jason’s cooing increases tenfold as he finishes up tending to your stomach. When he’s done, he hands you a clean shirt, helping you gently glide it past the stitches before straddling your thighs and capturing your lips with his own.

You could’ve easily disengaged from his lips if you’d wanted to, but that was the thing: you didn’t want this to end.

Sensing your reciprocation, his mouth begins to move eagerly against yours out of pure desperation. You can't exactly blame him when they’d come so close to losing you. 

Roy chortles from beside you as Jason deepens the kiss. You breathlessly take on his passion as you tilt your head to better meet his own, feeling the doubt in his shaky hands as they move across your skin with readable hesitancy. 

No, they definitely hadn’t been fighting about the kiss. 

Jason tilts your chin up with his index finger and pecks you to complete the electrifying kiss. 

“We would never fight over you. Promise,” you nod, still not understanding what that really meant. Especially not after having kissed both of them and having slept naked in between them. “We just can’t have you getting hurt, is all.” 

You see Jason fiddling with something gold, a box. Once you place the object, you tilt your head in confusion.

“You don’t want to see me hurt, so you got me jewelry?”

“It’s SOS jewelry,” Roy snatches it from Jason and motions for you to stick out your wrist, but you continue to look at the offending box like it’s going to bite you. “We talked about it and we decided really don’t want to involve you any more than we already have.”

So much for teamwork, huh?

In the stress of the aftermath, your body does what it’s always done when people show you they care- run.

Your smile falls instantly. 

They decided for you? They said they aren’t going to involve you anymore because… You want to cry. You’re just a liability to them. First day on the job and you’ve already fucked everything up.

“What do you mean not going to involve me anymore?”

“Princess,” Roy starts, but you cut him off.

“No, I’m already involved. It’s too fucking late for that, so what do you mean?” you reiterate your previous question with a sharp finger to Jason’s chest, who's, unfortunately for him, the person closest to you. “What were you planning on doing? Disappearing again ‘ for my own good?’” you add the last part with sarcastic air quotes. You make to get off the bed with a scoff, “You know what? This was a mistake.” 

Moving in with them, the kissing, or maybe even giving them a second chance, you don’t know. What you do know is that, right now, it’s all wrong. 

You tell yourself to prepare for the pain so you can keep a straight face when you walk away, but you’re not prepared for the electrifying jolt that shoots from the wound. The agony alone nearly sends you tumbling right back into Jason and Roy as you begin to stand.

“Where are you going?” 

“Anywhere but here,” you wince at the affiliation each movement brings but continue toward the front door, nonetheless. 

“Yeah?” Jason blocks your limping form easily. “With what car?” 

You curse, forgetting you’d purposefully wrecked it in the fight. 

You end up in Roy’s minivan, arms crossed and a pout that rivals Lian’s signature one as they drop you off at the entrance of Damian’s apartment. You’re too pissed to even acknowledge that your original minivan hunch had been right.

You don’t care if it looks like you’re crawling back because you’re not.

You hobble from the car, producing his guest access key and walk into the elevator without looking back.

You click random floors, check your phone and count five minutes before hitting the lobby button again. 

When you emerge, the coast is clear. The gaudy 2005 beaten-up metal junk Roy called a car was nowhere in sight.

They really thought they can just kick you out of the operation like you're a fucking hindrance? Even after all you’ve done for them? After everything you’ve proven to them time and time again?

It's never enough. 

You're never good enough to join them as equals and never would be, it seems.

The crumbled remains of your apartment are a far cry from a welcoming picture, but it feels good to be in a place that’s solely yours. 

You know- have known- how to care for yourself by yourself your entire life. They aren’t going to change that with some stupid SOS jewelry as if you’re some damsel in distress. No, fuck that. Fuck them.

The blocks of concrete and brick are difficult to traverse with your fresh injury, but you manage alright. It’s not like there’s anyone here to make fun of your pathetic form, anyway.

The living room is a complete mess and you find nothing but building debris within its confines. Your room and the bathroom are much of the same. While neither had ever been anywhere in the realm of nice, they both now easily fall under the ‘looking like complete shit’ category.

Your parent's room, on the other hand, remains completely untouched. 

That’s odd.

You move to inspect the room further and gasp when your feet come into contact with rivers of thick… something.

A message has been left on the dilapidated wall of where their room meets the bathroom, oozing wet red to the floor.

The crimson liquid, whatever it is, is fresh. It’s as if someone had just been here before you arrived. 

BLOOD IS THICKER THAN WATER. 

The bombing, the information you’d found in the garage and now this message. All it does is further confirm what you’ve already feared.

“I knew you wouldn’t be able to stay away.”

You startle at the realization that you’re not as alone as you’d thought.

That voice…

“Cheshire,” you turn around only to be immediately forced against her chest. You can’t help but flinch as her sword steadies itself at the top of your neck. “I was starting to think I drove you away.”

She doesn’t bother responding to your dumb joke; she only secures her grip on you as a warning.

“Just who are you?” 

“Wait, you’re asking me that?” you laugh and instantly halt when the blade presses deeper. “Literally no one,” you manage with a strained voice. 

All at once, the pressure is gone and you fall to the floor in an instant, desperately grasping at your neck. Her unimpressed stare cuts through your exerted heap on the floor. 

You silently wish she’d just go ahead and kill you or whatever. There’s obviously no escape route this time.

“That can’t be true when I have a contract this big for you,” she looks over you menacingly, leaving you to throw up your hands in surrender. 

There's nothing you can do in your wounded state. The only reason you’d been able to defeat her in the first place was because of your car. You didn’t have to look around to know that there was no car in sight for you to use.

You’re absolutely fucked.

“Speak now or forever hold your peace.” 

You flip the script. If you’re going to die, you may as well get some answers, “What are you doing with Two Face?”

She tilts her head slowly, “For someone who’s no one, you sure seem to know a lot.” Her face is centimeters away from yours as she ponders her next move. “Since I’m going to kill you, I guess I can let you in on a little secret.” As she turns away, you click the SOS button on your bracelet in your pocket and focus on keeping her talking.

“Hardly seems little,” you laugh humorlessly.

Her expressionless mask regards you. “No, it doesn’t,” she walks around you with effortless footwork, avoiding all rubble without once looking down. “You’ve pissed off my bosses.”

“Multiple?”

“Too many to count. Joker and Two Face are at the head of it, though,” she gets in your face again. “You’ve caught yourself right smack in the middle of a little laundering scheme that’s going to line my pockets very well. Guess I should thank you for that before I murder you,” she shrugs disinterestedly like she doesn’t care if she kills you or not. Your life is worthless to her in every other aspect than monetarily.

Joker. 

Five years later, you think bitterly and his name still haunts you. All these years and your parents still haunt you. 

It never ends.

No, it never ended in the first place.

“I don’t suppose you do a coin flip before you kill?” 

“Trust me, it won’t matter in a moment,” she goes to strike, but you dodge just as the door you were trapped against gets blown open by what you assume to be one of Roy’s arrows. 

You manage to roll just in time to avoid a majority of the blast, but the jostling movement leaves you clutching at the fresh stitches on your stomach. 

“Shouldn’t you be under a car somewhere downtown?” Roy snarkily barks into the room.

“Your clone would know nothing gets me down for too long.” 

You glare at her for flirting with your… well, whatever he was. “Too bad he’s the original, you Wonderland freak show,” you waste no time in throwing one of her discarded sais directly at her back.

Jason uses the distraction to shoot her in each of her arms. 

You know shit’s really hitting the fan when Damian swoops in to remove you from the scene entirely.

It’s the first time, well, technically, the second time you’ve seen him as Robin. It’s definitely your first time seeing him since figuring out his secret identity, though. Watching his swift technique further proves that he really is the assassin you claimed him to be.

While Jason and Roy fight off Cheshire, you and Damian entertain a mentally exhausted Lian whose only request is to have a princess tea party. What kind of shitty people would you be if you didn’t oblige?

“She acts like she’s your kid,” he says.

You smile, remembering how Stephanie had said the same thing.  

“Family,” Lian points at you. 

You point at Damian, “Also, family.”

She eyes him skeptically but trusts your judgment enough to nod. 

Roy and Jason come back twenty minutes later to the wonderful surprise of the princess tea party, complete with Damian, as Robin, in a tiara and tutu that Lian had forced on him. 

“Oh, you’re never living this down, Hellspawn.”

Whatever exhaustion Jason had previously faced vanishes as he eagerly snaps a pic of Robin scowling in his princess gear with his teacup poised midair.

“There’s a serious matter at hand, in case you forgot, dipwad,” he wastes no time in spurring everyone into action. “We need to leave this location,” he gets up, throwing the tutu and crown to the floor in obvious distaste as he does, “now.”

“Why don’t we go to the manor?” You assume that’s the safest place to stay at a time like this. Batcave with full armory? Hell yes. Plus Alfred’s medical care? Double yes.

“Jason has daddy issues,” Roy says like it explains everything. You know he must be feeling like shit because his face is as pale as yours probably is right now. 

“So does Damian,” you point at a scowling Damian. “He still talks to Bruce.” 

“You don’t know the half of it,” Jason warns.

“Well, it seems like that’s always the case.” 

Silence.

Then, finally, answers.

“Ever since this past year or so, when I became the Red Hood I am now,” his face scrunches up as he fights some internal battle, “it’s been different.” He rubs at the back of his neck sheepishly, “I do things differently.” 

“Killing for your washed-up drug gang is hardly noble, Todd.” 

You’re left in shock at this new information.

“It’s money,” he looks like he’s pleading for you to understand, but you don’t. This isn’t the Jason you thought you knew.

“Wait a minute. So, you have me babysitting your kid so you can go off and run a drug ring?” you look at them, thoroughly disgusted. “After everything Roy’s been through?”

He looks away from you like he can’t bear to face you.

With all the things they're still holding close to their chest, now you definitely don’t want them to know about your parent’s involvement. 

Lian grumbles and you realize this is another thing you just have to take in and move on from. At least for now, that is. The dangerous predicament you find yourself in is completely unorthodox and requires your full attention for the time being- not this petty back and forth bullshit. 

“How many bedrooms does your penthouse have again?” Damian sighs at your question, knowing what’s coming next. “Not including the stripper room.” 

“If you want to be that way,” he pushes at you lightly, minding your injury, “you can stay in that one.” 

“But there’s no bed!” 

“Should’ve just shut the fuck up, then,” you laugh. He doesn’t have to say anything, but based on his prickliness, you can tell Damian is, at the very least, happy you're safe. 

“What are we standing around for then?" Damian tch’s, "An invitation from the Queen? She’s dead; let’s go.” 

You tug your singular suitcase along with Lian’s and take them downstairs where you’re met with… 

“THE BATMOBILE?!” you nearly drop the suitcase you’d been holding in shock.

Damian smirks at you while Roy and Jason mutter skeptically behind you. Lian, on the other hand, joins you in your squealing glee, much to their chagrin.

“God, remind me never to do this again,” you and Lian pout at Damian, leaving him to roll his eyes. “Get in, losers.”

•••

Once everyone settles in at Damian’s penthouse and Lian’s been put to bed, you join the three men at Damian’s dining room table. 

Information and leads are splayed out across the wooden surface that you glance at half-heartedly. You already know most of the information going on at this point, well, more than they know, at the very least. However, you still plan to keep the information close to your chest for now.

They’d been looking over the stacks of photos and files while you read Lian to sleep, so when you rejoin them, you find yourself interrupting a disagreement between Damian and Jason.

You’re weak. 

Your body is, at least. You sag into the available seat, hoping no one will notice your slow crawl of movements. 

The sweat and blood from earlier have long dried across the expanse of your skin, but the mission isn’t done just yet. You know you’ll have to tell them something , you just know that you definitely can’t tell them everything.

“Well, do we have someone to interrogate?” they tell him no, that Cheshire had escaped. “Next time, let me handle it. I won’t fuck it up like you two imbeciles. For fuck’s sake, does anyone know fucking anything?” 

“It’s Joker and Two Face behind it all,” you lie, hoping that offering them big information will throw them off your trail. You couldn’t let them find out your parents are also partially behind it until you knew exactly how. Besides, it’s not like they weren’t still keeping shit from you. Hello- drug lords? Yeah, you haven’t forgotten that tidbit of information. “Cheshire mentioned it being some sort of money laundering scheme.” 

You try to add as much information as possible so they don't suspect you're holding anything back. You're crushed when they immediately come to your side to comfort you.  

“That could explain the mugging and the thing at the cafe with Two Face’s gang members,” Roy reasons. You see the way his eyes move back and forth aimlessly as if trying to put the pieces together. It’s quite cute, in all honesty, but you’re still very much upset with him.

Jason shakes his head, “We can’t just assume the first thing. It’ll only put us at a disadvantage. And, as is, Cheshire’s a far cry from a trustworthy source.”

In the chaos of battle, your wound had reopened. Meanwhile, the scrapes on your back from earlier continued to burn. The scrapes are the biggest fuck you, serving as a constant searing presence on top of the already unbearable pain from the far more sinister puncture wound.

Blood seeps from your shirt and Roy pauses in his theory as the rest of the table takes notice.

“We should call it a night,” he clears his throat and moves to help you up. “We’ll have you go back tomorrow to investigate the bomb and track down Cheshire.”

You feel like you’re back at square one.

Everyone breaks away from the table with hushed goodnights and promises to help you get to the bottom of this. 

If only they knew. If only you could find it in yourself to tell them.

Jason and Roy delicately lead you to the guest room. Jason’s arm is wrapped around one side of you with Roy’s on the other side only furthered the sinking feeling in your gut. You worry that you’ve made a mistake by hiding the information, but it's too late to reveal it to them now… Right?

The best part about Damian’s penthouse, you decide as they usher you inside, is the entire section of the guest bathroom that’s dedicated to an open shower. 

Jason folds a towel for you to sit on and helps undress you while Roy starts the water and removes his own clothes. You figure you’ve already all seen each other naked once- what’s a second time?

You’re too drained to comment, anyway, as Jason strips down to his boxers. One glance at Roy and he’s kicking them off to the dry side of the floor.

They do the painful parts first, wincing as they scrub around the perimeter of your wound before helping you with your regular shower rituals that you have trouble completing on your own.

“Will it scar?”

“Yes,” Jason doesn’t hesitate. You’d slump further down against the shower wall if you knew it wouldn’t hurt like shit. Just what you needed, another ugly fucking scar to add to your collection. “So will Roy’s,” he shoots you a pointed look. “Just in the way mine have. I recall you telling me they didn’t look so bad,” you had, you realize with a sheepish glance his way. “Don’t break my heart and tell me it was a lie, babe.”

A lie.

You snort. 

Yeah, you breaking his heart. That’s rich.

“No,” it’s more of a grunt than anything, considering your wound’s been properly disturbed for a decent amount of time now, “not a lie.” You sigh but notice tension release you don’t realize you’ve been holding onto when Jason resumes his gentle cleaning. 

“You wanna know how I got these scars?”  

Your mind’s not completely here after the blood loss and agonizing, well, stabbing pain, but you’re cognizant enough to realize you should feel like extra shit for lying now.

You’ve been on edge, always expecting them to throw games your way as they’d done in the past, but you’re all adults now. 

If you want to get anywhere close to them, you can’t use your walls as weapons against them while also assuming the worst of them. It’s not fair to them and it’s sure as hell not fair to yourself.

Do you want to know?

Of course. 

You’ve wondered about those scars ever since Jason first barged into your world.

Your stomach twists uncomfortably as you give him your selfish answer, “Yes.”

It echoes around the ceramics of the room, forcing you to hear your own betrayal smack around like the crack of a whip as each wave hits your ear.

Roy shifts uncomfortably beside you and you wonder how long it’s been since he’s heard the story. Maybe he’s never actually heard it come from Jason himself. If that's the case, it's an even playing field.

“My mom,” he laughs bitterly, “my own fucking mother sold me out to that damned clown. When I told you I know about how he lingers, trust me, I know,” his voice breaks at the same time your heart does. “I wanted, for so long, to let you in. I wanted, for so long, to let you know you weren’t alone- that I understood your pain.” 

You can relate to him more than he’ll ever hopefully know. 

“Jason,” You whisper, wishing he wouldn’t tell you more. You don’t deserve it with what you’re withholding from him.

He can’t stop looking at you. 

You’re the one who’s been stabbed and yet he’s the one who looks like he’s in the most pain. 

“It was a setup, of course. I felt dumb for walking into it, but I did and I paid for it,” he stops and drags his thumb across the exact length of each and every scar. “He beat me mercilessly. First with a crowbar and then, when I was lucid enough, his hands. I was never meant to make it out of the warehouse,” he grits his teeth. “Shit was rigged to blow from the start. It was stupid, so fucking dumb of me. I still can’t believe I really-”

“Jay, baby,” Roy sucks in a sharp breath, stumbling over to comfort him. “It’s not your fault.”

So, this is what it’s like to be on the opposite end of this conversation.

It’s as if Jason sees this recognition light up behind your eyes, giving him the strength to continue. “I don’t remember what happened after; I just remember waking up, but not in the way you think.” 

“Wait,” you think back to all the comic villains and startle. “So, the Lazarus pit is real?”

“Uh,” it’s their turn to look shocked. “It is. But its powers do far more damage than the good people claim it to do,” he shakes his head. “It makes you angry. Really fucking vengeful. Even to this day, the residue lingers and I hate it. At least, I think it stems from the pit. Who really knows? Maybe I've always been this fucked up,” he glances down at his hands, flexing them in and out of fists. “I wasn’t in a good place when you met me. I’d just come back a year later to see some random fucks walking around the manor, Joker still kicking and my mantle replaced. I wanted to kill the bastard and I wanted to kill Bruce for letting him live.”

It’s quiet for a few moments. You don’t know what to do other than grab his hand that’s closest to you and rub gentle circles into his damp skin.

“Therapy helps, Roy helps,” his blush is back and he hesitates just minutely enough for you to pick up on. “You being around again helps. Opening up to you helps.”

Your heart flutters, then sinks.

Tell them. 

Jason goes back to rinsing you, but Roy and your eyes linger, neither of you quite knowing what to say. One thing’s for sure, though, after that somber conversation, you’re feeling more alert. 

Tell them. 

And, you swear you’re going to until you realize you’re now face-to-face with both of their dicks. 

Even clothed, Jason’s bulge alone has you sweating and forgetting the plan to come clean to them.

While you’d technically already slept naked together, it’d been so dark you hadn’t actually seen… er.

It’s big. 

Okay?

Even flaccid, Roy’s pink-tipped dick has all your dazed attention.

What’s worse is when he notices and smirks. No, what’s worse is you don’t have it in you to stop staring even after he catches you. Luckily he seems to let you off the hook, considering the worst thing he does is continuing to flash a dopey, shit-eating grin.

Roy’s able to wash most of his body before he tires out and slumps to the floor beside you.

He bumps into you playfully once seated, “Hey.”

Jason’s working on sudsing up your arms, then shoulders. He hesitates at your neck, but you tilt your head to the side to face Roy, exposing it to him. It’s all the encouragement he needs to continue until-

“Uh, do you want me to finish Roy off and then I can…” Jason shifts uncomfortably with the washcloth. “Or were you wanting to...?”

Your head tiredly rolls back to face him. “Jay, what?” your head is too fucked up to read between the lines of what he’s asking you.

Your blinking is languid, but even between the long pauses in vision, it's impossible to miss the bright blush splotching across his scarred cheeks. “Would you want to finish cleaning up on your own?” 

You glance down to where his hand lays, waiting on your upper thigh.

Oh.

“Yeah, sure.” 

He hands you the cloth and it immediately slips through your grasp. You wince as your hand slowly inches down toward the damp heap in your lap. You don’t have the energy to check, but you can feel both sets of eyes on you. 

Jason wastes no time in collecting the washcloth and continuing to rub the remnants of battle from your skin. 

“This isn’t sexual,” Jason reassures you.  

“Yeah,” you snort, “that’s exactly what you want to hear from someone giving you a sponge bath.” Roy cackles until Jason smacks the towel dangerously close to his stitches, effectively shutting both you and the redhead up. “Sorry,” you wince.

The man had stitched you up, bathed you, let you see his boyfriend’s nice cock and even opened up to you. The least you can do is drop the sarcasm at his sake.

“If I couldn’t handle back talk, do you really think I’d be holed up with this fucker?” 

The washcloth drags suds across your erect nipples and Roy, as respectful as his perverted ass has been this entire time, can’t help the way his pupils dilate as he follows each swipe across your skin. He is, however, respectful enough to stare at the ceiling when Jason’s rough hands move lower. 

He cleans your folds with the washcloth thoroughly, though he doesn’t linger any longer than necessary before helping Roy finish washing up. 

•••

It turns out you do have to sleep on the couch in the pole room. 

Jason and Roy graciously offer for you to stay with them and Lian in the bed, but you don’t want to give Lian the wrong idea.

“Don’t be silly. I’ll be good out here.”

As if to prove your point, you slowly nestle into the sheets Damian had laid out for you. Along with two feather pillows, Damian had also left an insanely comfortable duvet. The comfort only lasts for so long, though. It’s a couch, after all and there’s only so much the duvet can do to offset it. 

You feel like you can’t get a full breath without pulling at the stitches. You realize eating tomorrow will be an event, too. 

Ugh.

After what feels like hours of staring at the ceiling, you give up and allow yourself to do what you wanted to do in the first place. Even if you are still a bit hurt that Jason said they’d open up, then kept things from you, you can at least acknowledge that he did eventually tell you something. 

You slip into their bed quietly. As soon as you're tucked under the covers, they instantly cuddle around you, careful of your wound. They indulge you easily, playing with your hair, kissing along your body. You allow yourself to bask in the fluttering feeling of their attention. 

In their warmth, you manage to push past the guilt of lying to them and find sleep. 

There’s always a catch, it seems. 

There’s always a reason the three of you can’t be together. Namely, that this entire relationship is a mere daydream of yours. No, namely, that you’re currently fucking up whatever chances you have with them over some selfish, short-lived effort to save your already broken image from further tarnishing from the sins of your blood.

Even after all of this, you’re lying to yourself if you think being with them will ever be anything more than a fantasy. 

A/N: Tumblr was a bitch w this post for some reason :(

how r u liking it so far?? this has honestly been one of my fave chaps to write since the skipping/motorcycle incident in chap 4 and ofc the joker scenes in chaps 10 and 12

[next]  ||  masterlist ||  pinned || my ko-fi / tip jar

#reader x jason todd x roy harper #jason todd x reader #reader x roy harper #reader x jason todd #my fic: the art of rehabilitating snowbirds #my fic:ars

[sparrowmoth]

Carlos and the (…) No Good, Very Bad Day • [AO3]

Teen | 10.1K+ | Carlos-centric | Crack/Humor, Magical Accidents

A/N: This was supposed to be the last chapter, but... turns out y'all are getting an epilogue because these kids chewed up my outline.

CW: Comically framed mistreatment of a wild animal, references to parental abuse, implied discrimination on grounds of mental illness, cancer mention, reference to animal death, depictions of anxiety and panic attacks, some angst, and blood mention.

Chapter Six: Bad Moon Rising

Carlos wakes in Evie’s arms, still bundled up in her jacket, with her heartbeat in his ears. He doesn’t remember dozing off—doesn’t know how long it’s been, or where they are now, but…

He sniffs the air, snout poking out from Evie’s jacket, and the scent of the woods is so rich, he can all but see it in his mind’s eye: two fawns in the bush, some twenty feet out toward the north, all the birds in the branches, feathers fluffed against the night air, and of course, Jay and Mal, forging a path through the pine boughs—

He wriggles a bit to stick his head out more fully, catching sight of what, at first, looks like will o’ the wisps—blue and purple orbs of Mal and Evie’s magic, leading the way through a pitch black forest.

Evie glances down, smiling slightly. Her face is cast in hues of magic. “We’re almost back,” she tells him, speaking just above a whisper—

That’s enough, still, for Jay and Mal to pause, turning back to look at them—at Carlos—with none of the laughter from earlier, but more a sort of almost—ugh—concern that makes his insides squirm—right along with his outsides.

Evie takes that to mean he wants down, so she stops and scoops him up and out from the warmth of her jacket, one hand on his belly and the other on his rump. He has only a moment to glance just how far the ground is beneath him before it’s rushing up and—

He’s set down carefully at Evie’s feet, hard-packed earth beneath his paws and the cool night air pressing in around him. He shakes, not from cold, but from some stupid puppy instinct, then—sensing the others’ eyes on him, like some jury of gods above—resolves to strut ahead right between Jay and Mal, tail erect like a banner of war.

It isn’t too long after that he realizes where they’re going, about the same time they arrive there: the meadow from earlier. Mal’s bag lays abandoned under starlight, the potent smell of its contents having attracted two raccoons, which starts Carlos growling—

“Carlos, leave it,” Mal hisses, hurrying ahead of Jay and Evie.

He doesn’t listen to her anymore than he usually does, which is—when he feels like it, and he doesn’t. He takes off running across the meadow, barking once as a warning that almost seems to be enough.

Startled, one raccoon rolls right over onto its back while the other leaps like a startled cat, then sits up dazedly on its hind legs, head tilted as it stares at Carlos, who’s yet too far to pose any real threat.

Until—

He doesn’t stop, teeth bared, growling one last warning—

The largest raccoon leaps to meet him with a scream like a banshee, drowning Carlos’ growl out. Its eyes flash poison green and its teeth glint, dripping saliva. Carlos isn’t afraid of raccoons, but then again, they’re not usually the size of grizzlies. He skids to a halt with such a force that his claws are tearing up the meadow, but it’s too late to—

SCREEEAAAAGGGHHHHHH.

The raccoon screams its fury as its belly meets with Jay’s boot and its sent flying several yards, like a very angry football. It lands with a thump at the edge of the tree line, where the other raccoon has already scurried off to, disappearing in the shadows—

Carlos can hear it chittering softly for its partner, who much more stubbornly remains, snarling and spitting as Jay advances on it—

“You fucking idiot,” Mal rages, grabbing Carlos’ scruff so suddenly that he yelps, eyes wide and heart racing as he’s spun to face her, feeling intensely like he’s been plunged into a nightmare. Except that’s… not his mother’s face growing softer with guilt—not his mother’s hands that shift to hold him like he’s something fragile.

He gets a grip on himself as Mal’s lips are parting, about to speak. But he doesn’t want to hear it. He twists out of her arms and leaps down onto the grass, only stumbling a little.

Shaking it off, he casts a dark look back at Mal before he marches away, only stopping when he’s satisfied there’s enough distance between them; then, he turns in a circle and curls up into a knot, laying grumpily on a soft patch of clover and wildflowers—

It’s here that Evie comes to join him, laying her jacket down on the grass beside him, and sitting prettily with her skirt in a flare around her. She says nothing for what feels a long while, though she does reach out to trace the wounds that have left her white shirt blood-stained. Her touch is cool, like peppermint or a glacier spring—

Carlos wants to tell her not to waste her magic, but he can’t, and either way, it’s not like she would listen. He closes his eyes to the feeling of his deepest gouges stitching shut with a gentle sort of prickling underlaid by another, more mundane such sensation.

He leans into the feeling, into Evie’s placid touch—

So, she continues to stroke him, even as her magic fades.

“You know,” she says softly, out of the blue, causing Carlos’ eyes to flutter open, “if anything happened to you, she would never forgive herself.” Carlos looks up into Evie’s dark eyes. She’s smiling at him, just a little, but there’s a heaviness to it. She looks sad. “None of us would, but…” She trails off and her gaze wanders with it—

Carlos follows her eyes to several yards away, where Mal is kneeling in the grass, taking stock of the spell stuff the raccoons had gone and scattered. There are several orbs of purple light dancing around her, making obvious her frown and the way she’s muttering to herself.

Huffing, Carlos lays his head back on his paws, glancing sidelong at Evie. She catches the look and pats him sympathetically, but still, she tells him, with a hint of a sigh, “You can’t stay mad at her forever.”

Carlos makes a sound that’s not quite puppy, not quite human.

His best attempt at a bitter laugh.

Evie rolls her eyes and shoves him onto his side, making him flail his paws as he struggles to right himself. He gets back to his feet with a wounded expression, which Evie meets with an unimpressed look.

“At least give her a chance to explain what happened.” Saying that, her expression softens. “Promise me?” She holds her hand out, palm upright, and it takes Carlos a moment to realize what she wants—

He lets out a low, pathetic whine, but Evie doesn’t relent, so he slowly and awkwardly lifts one paw and drops it into her palm.

“Taught him any other tricks?” Jay jokes as he appears beside them, stepping easily away as Carlos lunges for his ankle. This continues like a dance around Evie until, with an “innocent” stretch of her leg into Jay’s path, he goes toppling backwards in the meadow grass—

Carlos leaps onto Jay’s chest with a victorious bark, wagging his tail.

He doesn’t know when it happened that he started having fun, but there’s a warmth in his chest at Jay’s theatrics—the way he feigns a moan and lolls his head to the side, eyes rolling back—and Evie’s stifled giggles bursting free into a genuine, hearty laugh—

Jumping off Jay’s chest to allow him to sit up, Carlos finds that his eyes look instinctively for Mal. She seems more distant than she is, all alone with her spell book, looking lost within its pages.

She’s hunched over, rocking slightly, finger tracing the same lines over and over and over, muttering quietly—

Carlos can just make out the sound of a dark faerie dialect.

He’s walked closer without realizing, only aware of his paws now that he’s nudged a small glass vial laying abandoned in the grass.

He takes it up between his teeth, mindful not to crush it; then, he crosses the distance between him and Mal. She doesn’t notice his presence, too absorbed in her spell book, so he arches his neck and drops the vial into the book’s spine, causing her to startle—

“Shit—Carlos,” she breathes out, meeting his cool gaze.

He glances up at the dark, starry sky, then tilts his head in question.

Mal catches his meaning and grabs her phone to check the time. “It’s still about an hour until moonrise,” she tells him, setting her phone back down in the grass beside her. “Don’t worry, we’ll be ready.”

Carlos lifts a paw to rest on the edge of her spell book.

He tilts his head in the other direction.

Mal averts her gaze, letting out a sigh. “I’m not really good at this,” she mumbles, and Carlos gets the sense there are layers of meaning to those words. Magic. Emotions. Apologies, even. “Truth is, I wish this whole thing had been a joke.” She sighs again, chancing a look at Carlos, who stares back at her with an unreadable expression. “I know you don’t believe me, but I never meant for this to happen.”

Her voice cracks in a way that Carlos knows she could never fake. He is all too familiar with the ins and outs of her manipulations; so, he withdraws his paw and moves to lay down with his chin on her leg, looking up into her green eyes, letting her know he’s listening.

“Do you ever wonder what happened to Dude?” Mal begins, and Carlos feels a pang in his chest at the memory of the scrappy little campus mutt, the first dog he’d learned to trust and even loved as his own. He hadn’t realized there were rules against having pets in your dorm until one day he’d returned from class to find Dude was gone and Doug was waiting for him, sheepishly holding a summons to Fairy Godmother’s office—

She had told him, in that too sweet way, how there had been some complaints about “special treatment” (that is, how long Prince Ben had apparently allowed him to keep a pet in the dorm, despite the “many” concerns about hygiene, allergies, and… “other things”).

There was one recourse offered, which was for Carlos to agree to a psychological evaluation, allegedly to determine if he had any kind of condition that would warrant registering Dude as his psychiatric service dog.

Carlos wondered sometimes if he should have taken the bait.

Let them pry into his skull, see he wasn’t like his mother.

But they would see what they wanted to, really.

He knew that in his gut.

And it’s why he’d said no, stupidly thinking that Dude would still be around—still be wandering the campus. Instead, he was just…

Gone.

Carlos blinks, shaking off the memories. He refocuses on Mal, who’s been quiet for a minute, studying his face. Seeing his attention back on her, she inhales slowly and continues, “So, it turns out, uh… the Radcliffes adopted him.” She winces as she says it, then lowers her eyes, going on to explain how Jane had let it slip. Just a couple days ago, she’d forwarded Mal a post meant for someone else—a post Mal couldn’t see, since Anita Radcliffe’s account was private.

Not that it mattered, since Jane had texted along with it: “OMG….. poor Dude, this has me crying so bad rn… I can’t believe he didn’t make it #cancersucks #alldogsgo2heaven #rescuedismyfavoritebreed #ripdude”

That had all been soon enough replaced by: This message was deleted.

Hearing this, Carlos just feels… numb.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t blink, doesn’t make the slightest sound.

“I… didn’t want to be the one to tell you,” Mal admits in a whisper, toying with a dog-eared bottom corner of her spell book. “I thought maybe if I just… got you some new puppy—one you could keep—then even if you found out, you wouldn’t be so…” Sad, she doesn’t say, but Carlos hears it. And he feels it, in a way, like a fist around his heart. It’s not a pain, just a feeling. A feeling that grips him—

“Anyway,” says Mal, still in a whisper, “turns out I fucked it up.”

She explains how this spell book had been written in Unseelie, a dark faerie dialect her mother spoke fluently, but refused to teach, claiming a half-blood like Mal just didn’t have the “tongue” for it.

Mal had stolen the spell book out of spite toward her mother.

She’d made some progress with it here in Auradon, deciphering the words by comparison with its sister tongue, Seelie, for which there were actual language classes on top of plentiful library resources.

For all the two could be compared, though, they were different.

Mal wasn’t fluent in the language that her magic best responded to, which meant, inevitably, there was an element of… chaos in what resulted sometimes—

Like this particular fuck up of trying to manifest a puppy that Carlos could keep forever, and instead, well, turning Carlos into a puppy…

FOREVER?

Mal hadn’t said it, but she didn’t have to.

Carlos leaps to his feet, eyes wide, staring into nothing. He’s starting to tremble all over, not even sure what he’s feeling. Angry. Afraid. Betrayed, because she told him—she told him she could—

“No, no, hey, Carlos! CARLOS, LISTEN TO ME. I CAN FIX THIS.”

Carlos just shakes his head slowly from side to side, starting to pant as his breathing quickens. He’s having a panic attack. He knows this, logically, like he’s a distant observer. But knowing it’s happening—that won’t stop it. He stumbles back, away from Mal, hearing her voice as though she’s calling through water—

Not calling his name, though. Not anymore.

She’s calling for Evie. Calling for Jay.

And then there’s blue hair like a curtain, falling around him, blocking the world out. There’s a hand on his head, a feeling like peppermint, like a glacier spring, trickling down through his mind—

Someone’s telling him to sleep. Just let go, it’s okay. It’s okay…

And he wants to believe that, so he melts like water.

He melts into a dream of sunrise.

Thank you for reading! Reblogs are always appreciated. And feel free to subscribe on AO3 if you want to be alerted when the next chapter comes out. Kudos and comments are lovely, as well! ♥

#descendants #carlos de vil #rotten OT4 #core four #descendants fanfiction #my fanfiction #my writing #puppy!Carlos AU #descendants fandom #honestly a little insecure about this chapter but eh #posting it anyway because it is what it is #really trying to live that 'done is better than perfect' life lol #anyway please enjoy #the next chapter WILL be the end #and thus the grand conclusion #I swear it djakgjdksg

[deathwords334]

Good Omens AU idea?

Ok, hear me out here. What if the events of Kevin Smith's Dogma happened in the world of Good Omens? It kinda started as a creative experiment, but it just kept growing. Now I just need to get it out before I explode.

Should probably explain Dogma before I do anything. It's not Smith's best known movie, but it's definitely beloved. So essentially, Dogma is an end of the world story following a descendant of Jesus, two not so holy prophets, an apostle, and a muse trying to stop a couple angels from ending existence. All with Smith's sense of humor. There's a poop demon, Alan Rickman is the Metatron, and God is a woman. And of course Jay and Silent Bob are the prophets because why not? You can find it on Youtube easily and I don't think it's on streaming.

Anyway, the AU. So Crowley and Aziraphale end up joining the group in their trip after happening upon them during a tour of America, and they have to deal with the personalities within the group. Jay alone would get on their nerves so fast... But I think what really got me excited by the idea was the potential lore/world building. It's something of a spoiler, but in the movie it's revealed there were angels that didn't side with Heaven or Hell in the Great War. Naturally in Good Omens, the idea hasn't come up yet but you'd think something like that would happen right? So what if some of them tried to stop the war through peaceful means, only for them to be 'punished' as a result? Neither angels nor demons acknowledge them but they play such an important role in the human existence that they cannot be ignored. Also no one wants to do the dirty work. And so they must play the scapegoat for the sake of the little game the two sides play. They're fully aware of all this, so they play the system to their benefit. Sure they're still walking zombies but at least they can indulge in what humanity has to offer.

And now more lighthearted ideas

Other religions and deities exist. I mean Gaiman already confirmed werewolves and vampires probably exist in the Good Omens world, why not pull an American Gods? Of course it's the same logic with the idea of 'the power of imagination' thrown in for the sake of it. In the Dogma movie, muses are essentially angels that specifically focus on creative facets. Dunno, I kinda like the idea of Crowley boozing it up with a Greek muse better

Speaking of! When it comes to the muse in the movie, the idea of her and Crowley bouncing off 'sinful' or cringy ideas sounds loads of fun. Sadly, a lot of their older work was lost to the ages but the muse kept some of it at least. He probably talked a bunch about Aziraphale, so when the muse finally meets the angel, she's super curious and eager

Aziraphale gets to be a teacher for a bit, teaching the descendant of Jesus how to bless stuff. He'd need to make sure Crowley doesn't try drinking the holy wine (who knows what that shit can do to a demon right?). But he probably would be giddy about the concept, someone looking to him for guidance

Again Aziraphale will need to 'keep him in line', but Crowley would probably have a field day tormenting Jay. The two are fine with Silent Bob, but given how much of an ass Jay is... They wouldn't hurt him. But he definitely would make him lose his mind a little

Should probably add I'm gonna try and write this out. Put too much time into thinking about this to throw it out completely... Wish me luck...

#neil gaiman #good omens #good omens au #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #dogma #Should probably come up with a name right? #Good Dogma #future fanfic #idk what else to tag #idk what im doing #oh well

[adultswim2022]

Clerks #3: "Leonardo is Caught in the Grip of an Outbreak of Randal's Imagination and Patrick Swayze Either Does or Doesn't Work in the New Pet Store" | ‎February 20, 2001 (DVD) | Unaired

Due to a misunderstanding involving a chimp at a nearby pet store and some rancid burritos that Randal is irresponsible about, the US government orders Leonardo be locked down. They believe an outbreak, similar to the one in the motion picture Outbreak has occurred. So it's up to Dante and Randal to advance the plot and eventually save the day. For some reason, it ends with Dante being browbeat into saying he's gay on the news.

It's funny to think about what qualified as edgy around this time. The show opens with a fourth-wall-break where Dante and Randal address the audience. They condescend to various women writing in (including a "Jennifer Schwalbach", shout out to Kevin's wife!!!) to complain that there are no women on the show. They do address the fact that there are no black people on the show and introduce Lando. Lando is seen throughout the episode in various fake-outs, where you think he might impact the plot or have a line but doesn't. It's funny, but man, it would not play the same way today.

This one features Gilbert Gotfried as Patrick Swayze, who seems to be working at the pet store but acts like he's studying for a role. Word has it they tried to get Swayze to portray himself and they were told by his people that he wouldn't do it and has no sense of humor about himself. And now he's dead!!! This is sorta evocative of James Woods on the Simpsons, working at the Apu Store. Hey speaking of Woods, he's in this. Like the gags about inclusion, he also plays differently today.

Lots of inspired jokes in this one. A gag involving Dustin Hoffman's likeness being portrayed by Al Pachino to avoid a lawsuit, the reveal that Alec Baldwin's Odd-Job-like assistant is secretly a robot, the gag about the mayor being stuck in a Mayor McCheese costume (and the police chief being Big Mac, delivering the memorable line "Nothing can kill the Grimace"), and the inside joke involving a photo of Leonardo Leonardo at Studio 54. This is apparently based on a real photo; the tall man is respected comedy writer Ian Maxtone-Graham who was a friend of Dave "Thanks for Watching!" Mandel. Dave ran across this photo in a book about Studio 54 of Ian Maxtone-Graham hanging out with Andy Warhol. I did a cursory google and I'm not sure if this photo is readily available online.

This one also ends with an educational segment where Jay & Silent Bob brutally wallop Charles Barkley for trying to host the segment himself. This whole thing is a shot-for-shot parody of a scene from The Godfather. There's also an eyebrow raising joke in this where the little girl seems to be discussing prostituting herself for 20 dollars. There was another gag like this in the last episode I didn't bother to highlight, where it's implied she wanted to film a porn movie with her little boy friend.

Askew connections: The pet store being named Gerbils Gerbils Gerbils is from Mallrats. The offscreen "kid in the helmet" would later appear in a deleted scene in Jay & Silent Bob Strike Back.

#adult swim #adultswim2022 #clerks

[mimikittysblog]

Lovesick: The Game

Chapter 4 - Taking the lead

Pairing: Non-idol! Jay x Yandere! Video game character! Fem! Reader

Synopsis: Its been about a month since the breakup but Jay has yet to get over his ex. Trying to help his friends suggest he play a new game with them called Lovesick. A multiplayer game where they compete to win the heart of the girl in the game. Y/n. However as the game progresses things start to seem odd, creepy even. Its almost like y/n knows more than she should, and wants more than what she leads on.

Warnings: Poor attempts at humor, cursing, heavy yandere themes, missing people, blood, implied murder, obsessed reader. Please let me know if I've missed anything. Do not interact and/or read if you are a minor and/or highly sensitive to these themes.

!!!There are written parts!!!

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

It’s been an entire week since Jay downloaded and played Lovesick, and while he kinda doesn’t want to admit it. He’s having a lot of fun. It’s weird but as his friends told him, it really distracted him and took his mind off of things. Not only from his ex but some of his annoying assignments and group projects as well. Plus seeing his friends struggle to play while he’s just easily winning is kinda hilarious. Furthermore the main character, y/n, is just a very well made and likable character that Jay just can’t help but keep interacting with.

She’s similar to him in a lot of ways, they have the same interest, like cooking and fashion, their personality is the same, both having somewhat short tempers, and they even have created inside jokes as, you guessed it, their sense of humor is not that far off either. It’s quite amazing really, how realistic it all feels. In addition to that if she were actually real, she would be absolutely perfect for him, he thinks.

“Damn that’s kinda sad..” Jay mumbles to himself, at the thought that the perfect girl for him doesn’t really exist and.. he’s somewhat falling for a video game character. It’s ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.

!Ping!

Jay then quickly scrambles to get his phone as he heard the sound of a new notification and then smiles seeing it’s another message from y/n. So who really cares if it’s ridiculous or not, cause this game (that he’s currently in the lead in) makes him happy, y/n is making him happy, and that’s all that matters. For now at least…

prev - masterlist - next

Taglist: @dzwntae

#Enhypen smau #enhypen imagine #jay smau #park jay smau #jay enhypen smau #jongseong smau #park jongseong smau #jay enhypen #park jay #jongseong #park jongseong #yandere enhypen #yandere jay #yandere reader

[alleanut]

— William Isaac Henderson

TW: Blood ⋆ Implied Trauma ⋆ Death ⋆ Murder

I. INTRO ⋆ II. EXTRA ⋆ III. RELATIONS ⋆ VI. PAST

————————— I. INTRO

AGE: 1249 MENTAL AGE: 27 SPECIES: Vampire GENDER: Male SEXUALITY: Pansexual ETHNICITY: British & Japanese

—————— I.I Powers & Drawbacks

CORRUPTION: A disorder all vampires fall victim to. It affects the soul and mind. The disorder shows up mostly as intrusive thoughts, which the one affected, will act upon, specifically not realizing the wrongness or immorality of it ——— When a vampire has not drunk blood in a week, they become very agitated. If blood is not consumed on the day the agitation starts, they turn into a reckless shadow form with the only goal of soothing their hunger. It will not stop at any means unless they consume at least a drop of blood. After they return to their normal form, their body is extremely exhausted, even sick. Many vampires pass this way Superhuman agility / reflexes: Ability to react faster than a normal human and to possess greater flexibility and with higher / farther jumping capacity Summoning: Ability to summon beings or objects for assistance. This may range from shadow objects to spirits Superhuman strength: Ability to have a level of strength much higher than normally possible given their proportions Superhuman senses: Ability to see, smell, taste, feel and hear more than a normal human ( most hungry vampires under corruption have the same abilities that are listed. )

METAMORPHOSIS / SHAPESHIFTING: Ability to change one's physical, biological form to mimic the appearance, characteristics or power set of other individuals ——— The individual who they want to shapeshift to must be dead. The second he shapeshifts into an individual, they appear to "live" in his head IMMORTALITY: Ability to live forever and also an inability to age normally ——— Takes an absolute toll on your mental health in many different ways INVULNERABILITY: Ability to be immune to any form of physical damage ——— Takes a long time to regenerate

-—————-————— I.II Personality

——— POSITIVE TRAITS Intelligent ⋆ Humorous ⋆ Loyal ⋆ Dedicated ⋆ Tactical ——— NEGATIVE TRAITS Aggressive ⋆ Manipulative ⋆ Argumentative ⋆ Rude ⋆ Obsessive

-—————–———— I.III Appearance

————————— II. EXTRA

PRONOUNS: Any NICKNAMES: Will, The Undead Vermillion BIRTHDAY: September 10th ZODIAC SIGN: Virgo OCCUPATION: CEO of his company LIKES: Wine, Human blood, Getting what he wants DISLIKES: Humans, Food, Talking about his trauma LANGUAGES: Old and Modern English, Japanese ( can't write or read... ), a little Spanish and Chinese

—————— III. RELATIONS

————————————— III.I Family

MOTHER: Kanai Henderson FATHER: James Michael Henderson OLDER BROTHER: Frederick Edgar Henderson OLDER SISTER: Annalina Maria Henderson GRANDFATHERS: Zachary Jace Henderson, Kaede Yoshiyuki GRANDMOTHERS: Tuesday Ivy Henderson, Akemi Yoshiyuki UNCLE: Yoneda Yoshiyuki EXTENDED FAMILY: Kuraisha Wahyuni ( "cousin" ), Zen Luo Yi ( "nephew" )

——————————— III.II Romantic

EX-GIRLFRIEND: Aleta ??? EX-FIANCÉES: Himari Kim, Rina Gaea Junianus EX-WIVES: Kathleen Githa Fraser, Yamina Safiya Bishara, Ethelinda Johanna Peschl EX-HUSBAND: Minsheng Quan UNREQUINTED LOVE: Fabiana Yesenia Soto Ruíz ( he enjoyed her company, but he didn't have feelings for her as she did for him )

——————-————— III.III Platonic

CLOSE FRIENDS: Itachi Kobayashi, Allen Moore, Hansuke Yaoyorozu GOOD FRIENDS: Ousmane Mefine, Amira Kateb FRIENDS: Yulia Golubeva, Markko Rosenberg

——————-————— III.IV Other

( FUTURE ) CO-WORKERS: Leonardo Brando, Cyrene Hecate Chastise, Mikayla ???, Azazel Hera ASSOCIATES: Eustachy Kazimierz Olszewski COMRADES: Jakov Bogović, Nehuen Medina Franco HUMAN FORMS: Naman Jai Gandhi, Hansuke Toudou, Amira Kateb

————————— VI. PAST

——————————— VI.I Childhood

COMING SOON...!!

—————————— VI.II Teenhood

COMING SOON...!!

—————————— VI.III Adulthood

William spends his days pretending to be someone else. His latest human form, Hansuke Toudou is a model. After his work, he either spends his time with his close friends, mainly Itachi, or prepares himself for his next meal. He has no shame when it comes to killing others, as he is a ruthless vampire after all. He has gotten away with years of his killings because he simply has his ways and connections. He is always three steps ahead.

LINKS: Picrew creds to Y_at Superpower Generator

#{🦑} my posts #{👤} chars #{🫀} william #THIS TOOK WAYY TOO LONG #original character #oc #oc intro

[brokentranstar]

BEHOLD... MY MAGNUM OPUS.....

Sparklecare Fniff Les Relationship Chart :)

This was actually really funny to do lol...

Every character belongs to @sparklecarehospital

Apart from Fniff who belongs to me.

And Wheel Chee, who belongs to @berrythecheetah

If you're curious about the specifics of how he feels about those guys, etc etc... More under the cut!!

First is Wheel Chee, Fniff's girlfriend! They are t4t... They have the best relationship (Shockingly). Like everyone who's ever read Sparklecare knows, relationships are forbidden, so they try to keep their relationship a secret. Try is the key word here, since Fniff will take any oportunity to talk about Wheel, and Wheel - even though she says she's just... Very confident in her intimate preferences, clearly is only interested in Fniff.

Second, Uni Cornelius, Fniff feels positive about him, but - and don't get me wrong here, Uni is great otherwise, Fniff is mostly projecting, because he reminds him of his girlfriend... Otherwise, Fniff thinks Uni is amusing, not exactly someone he'd hang around often, but that's fine.

Third, Barry Ill... Their relationship is a bit complicated, Fniff enjoys Barry's presence, and relates to him, however they still have varying ideas. Additionally, imagine this scenario, putting two insecure people who try to convince everyone around them that THEY'RE the best there is, there will be some problems. And more often than not, Barry and Fniff probably argue more than actually talk together.

Fourth, Caroline Coughs - Arguably the worst relationship he has ever, beaten only by Dr. Cuddles... Fniff is very uncomfortable because of her sense of humor, overall behavior and personality, really not a fan of people like that, but it gets even worse because Caroline, probably not often but occassionaly, hits on his girlfriend, Wheel Chee, which is predictable, since her best friend is Uni Cornelius, who's best friend is, Caroline Coughs... While Fniff much rather would not hang around a friend group such as this.

Fifth, Jay Fortune, Fniff views him in the same way, as you would seeing a crying baby, he feels plenty above Jay Fortune, the bigger person in the conversation, but nonetheless finds them pretty sweet, and partly, feels a little bad for them, if not the part before, their relationship would be positive and only that, but how healthy is a relationship if the other person feels like you're not mentally and physically on the same level?

And last but not least, Hemera Philly, Fniff WOULD have a positive relationship with her, he admires her work, and doesn't mind staying safe from danger now and again, there is a problem however, Hemera Philly is a strict rule follower and listens to authority, something Fniff despises doing with a deep hatred, he hates it so much in fact, that it makes his opinion of her go from positive to neutral instantly.

Alright, that's it, if this gets enough notes (at least 15-20), I might continue this, with staff members, and later with more of the characters we meet! Thank you for your interest :)

#sparklecare #sparklecare hospital #sparklecare oc #fniff les #wheel chee #uni cornelius #barry ill #caroline coughs #jay fortune #hemera philly

[elogehakizimana]

BEST MUSIC 2023

Best Albums

Amaarae - Fountain Baby - (8.7)

Liv.e - Girl in the Half Pearl - (8.5)

Pangaea - Changing Channels - (8.5)

L’Rain - I Killed Your Dog - (8.5)

Sufjan Stevens - Javelin - (8.5)

Sofia Kourtesis - Madres - (8.4)

MIKE - Burning Desire - (8.4)

Kelela - Raven - (8.4)

Caroline Polachek - Desire, I Want To Turn Into You - (8.4)

Julie Byrne - The Greater Wings - (8.4)

Yves Tumor - Praise a Lord Who Chews... - (8.4)

Yaeji - With A Hammer - (8.4)

Fever Ray - Radical Romantics - (8.4)

Joanna Sternberg - I’ve Got Me - (8.4)

billy woods / Kenny Segal - Maps - (8.4)

Kara Jackson - Why Does the Earth... - (8.3)

Cash Cobain - Pretty Girls Love Slizzy - (8.3)

boygenius - the record - (8.3)

Wednesday - Rat Saw God - (8.3)

Samia - Honey - (8.3)

Billy Nomates - CACTI - (8.3)

Marina Herlop - Nekkuja - (8.3)

Titanic - Vidrio - (8.3)

Jessie Ware - That! Feels Good! - (8.3)

ANOHNI and the Johnsons - My Back Was a Bridge for You to Cross - (8.3)

Jamila Woods - Water Made Us - (8.3)

Priya Ragu - Santhosam - (8.2)

Veeze - Ganger - (8.2)

Armand Hammer - We Buy Diabetic Test Strips - (8.2)

Asake - Work of Art - (8.2)

Buck Meek - Haunted Mountain - (8.1)

Maxo - Even God Has a Sense of Humor - (8.1)

Kali Uchis - Red Moon in Venus - (8.1)

Noname - Sundial - (8)

RAYE - My 21st Century Blues - (8)

U.S. Girls - Bless This Mess - (8)

Arooj Aftab / Vijay Iyer / Shahzad Ismaily - Love in Exile - (8)

Margo Price - Strays - (8)

RP Boo - Legacy Volume 2 - (8)

J Hus - Beautiful and Brutal Yard - (8)

Earl Sweatshirt & The Alchemist - Voir Dire - (8)

Victoria Monét - Jaguar II - (8)

Tirzah - trip9love…??? - (8)

Jaimie Branch - Fly or Die Fly or Die Fly or Die (World War) - (8)

Mitski - The Land Is Inhospitable and So Are We - (8)

Yeule - Softscars - (8)

Jlin - Perspective EP - (8)

Sampha - Lahai - (8)

Ryuichi Sakamoto - 12 - (7.9)

Lonnie Holley - Oh Me Oh My - (7.9)

Best Tracks

Amaarae - Angels In Tibet

Yaeji - Submerge FM

Jai Paul - So Long (Live)

Pangaea - If

Liv.e - Gardetto

Kelela - Raven

Fever Ray - Kandy

Julie Byrne - The Greater Wings

J Hus - Who Told You

L'Rain - I Killed Your Dog

The Murder Capitol - A Thousand Lives

Yves Tumor - God Is a Circle

Amaarae - Counterfeit

Kara Jackson - rat

Sufjan Stevens - So You Are Tired

Sofia Kourtesis - Funkhaus

Amaarae - Desguise

Julie Byrne - Moonless

Amaarae - Princess Going Digital

Priya Ragu - Adalam Va!

BAMBII - Slip Slide

Cah Cobain - So Fire

Rema - Smooth Criminal

Priya Ragu - Black Goose

Sampha - Only

billy woods / Kenny Segal - Soundcheck

Baby Keem & Kendrick Lamar - The Hillbillies

Kali Uchis - I Wish you Roses

boygenius - Cool About It

Joanna Sternberg - I’ve Got Me

Fabiana Palladino - I Care

Jorja Smith - She Feels

James Blake - Fall Back

Billy Nomates - same gun

Mitski - Heaven

RP Boo - B.O.T.O

Marina Herlop - Busa

Victoria Monét - Alright

Earl Sweatshirt - Making The Band (Danity Kane)

Tinashe - Talk To Me Nice

Alex Lahey - You’ll Never Get Your Money Back

Buck Meek - Haunted Mountain

billy woods / Kenny Segal - Year Zero

Margo Price - County Road

Jamila Woods - Bugs

Titanic - Anónima

MIKE - African Sex Freak Fantasy

 Marina Herlop - Cosset

Sequence - Healing Sounds

Samia - Kill Her Freak Out

Line Of The Year

“it's not like you love me, I know you don't love me” -  Amaarae

#best albums #2023

[marshmallows2345]

Imagine Antonio fell in love with mouses younger sister everyone expected to be goofy like mouse but finds out she’s overly calm and more quiet then anything

mouse would be FURIOUS oh my god and so would jay bc to both of them you’re their baby. like they’re so protective of you and almost no man has gotten their seal of approval.

well, except antonio.

antonio gets it because they know what he’s like and how he’s so protective of the people he loves. when they see him hold you close, ask for kisses, give you the respect and adoration you deserve, they let him date you.

antionio isn’t shocked when you reveal who your brother is because you’re very similar to him. both of you are quiet, calm, but you’re an even quieter, calmer version. he sees the same smile and laugh, the same sense of humor.

#my asks #antonio dawson

[thebibliomancer]

11 Days of Comics! 6/11 S.T.A.R. Corps #1 (1993) "Tarnished S.T.A.R."

Woo, halfway through!

I knew this was a 90s comic just looking at the cover.

Superman's mullet was a dead giveaway. But also, the robot dude on the cover is straight outta Image or that one recurring ad in Wizard about manganime. The one with the silly cyborg with binoculars for eyes.

I also wonder if S.T.A.R. Corp was made to poach sales from Valiant's H.A.R.D. Corps. I don't have any evidence one way or another aside from them both being A.C.R.O.N.Y.M. Corps titled books. And Valiant's book starting in 1992 and DC's in 1993.

I guess it doesn't matter. Comic companies are always ripping each other off and/or homaging each other.

S.T.A.R. Corps. Spins off from S.T.A.R. Labs from Superman's stuff.

Science and Technology Advanced Research Laboratories. Science and Technology Advanced Research Corps.

So, S.T.A.R. Labs has been through some rough times. It blew up in Armageddon 2001 because of Captain Atom and Monarch having a punch-up. Having to rebuild their Metropolis branch has the company hurting financially.

For some reason, this made it make sense to almost completely turn lab operations over to a supercomputer called Mindgame.

First of all, I wouldn't trust a completely benign supercomputer if it was called Mindgame. That has a sudden yet inevitable rise of the machines vibe to it.

Second of all, this is one of those cases where things go horribly right.

Mindgame isn't trying to take over the world or exterminate humanity but it has some big ideas on how certain experiments should be handled.

Preliminary tests indicate that the biological component (aka pilot) of the Deadzone Armor will reduce efficiency? Eh, just secretly change the design so that the pilot Jay Daniels gets FUSED INTO THE ARMOR when he's put in it the first time.

Jay goes berserk from pain and panic, reasonably enough. And he busts out of the lab during S.T.A.R.'s big 'we're not a shitshow anymore, we promise!' press conference.

Humorously enough, to me anyway, Clark Kent gets buried in rubble during the chaos and has to sit fuming under all the huge slabs of cement waiting to be saved because people SAW him get buried. He can't just bust out as Superman because people are actively digging him out.

And when they dig him out he has to play injured so someone will run to get a paramedic. Ugh. This secret identity thing. Such a hassle sometimes.

When he does change into Superman, he tries talking Jay Daniels down but the guy isn't thinking much besides lashing out. So Superman punches him once and knocks him the fuck out.

And then turns him back over to S.T.A.R and asks zero follow-up questions.

Dammit, Superman!

Mindgame asks for data on how the Deadzone Armor performed. Assuming that maybe if they humor the renegade supercomputer, she'll give them control of the lab back, the S.T.A.R. scientists do give Mindgame the data she wants.

And she promptly decides to proceed with further testing. For example, hmm, lets see how Deadzone holds up against intense radiation.

So Mindgame overloads the reactor in the radiation lab. Zapping married scientists Ed and Beth Wilder while they're in the middle of experimentally blasting strawberries with radiation.

Despite two people maybe being dead, S.T.A.R. is still humoring Mindgame. She wants to test the Deadzone armor so they talk to a now much calmer Jay and ask him to go rescue the Wilders. And they kinda don't mention to Jay that he's stuck in the armor forever maybe.

Jay Deadzone is able to stomp through the security of the radiation lab without much trouble. But when he gets to the lab, he finds a strange glowing energy being!

No, not Electric Blue Raspberry Superman but the Wilders! The explosion fused them into a single energy being! Which is a weird thing for radiation to do until you remember that this is the same universe with Firestorm. So. Perfectly reasonable actually.

Other wacky science victims are introduced in the other 5 issues of this miniseries. Especially since Mindgame has control over other S.T.A.R. Labs and don't see people as people.

The series wraps as all the new misapplied science victims combine into the titular S.T.A.R. Corps and beat up Mindgame, who has foolishly taken on a non-computer body just in time to get punched in the face.

Also, Mindgame turns out to be an alien supercomputer who wants to prepare Earth to be invaded. That's less interesting than what I initially thought was going on.

The team doesn't seem to be have used for much beyond this miniseries.

Anyway. S.T.A.R. Corps seems like an interesting enough miniseries. But it also feels like... Doom Patrol lite, in some ways. Including a cyborg man.

#11 days of comics! #dc comics #S.T.A.R. Corps #liveblog #superman #x days liveblog

[doomsdayhqs]

╰      ❛   𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐄𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐃:   thank   you   for   applying,   peach    !    your   applications   for   olivia   ‘   ollie   ’   greaves,   rory   masters,   and   ethan   dashwood  has   been   accepted   and   natalia   dyer,   tessa   thompson,   and   jensen   ackles   are   now   taken.   you   have   twenty - four   hours   to   send   in   your   account   and   make   sure   to   go   over   our   checklist   to   help   you   settle   in.  

*      & .    〔    natalia   dyer,   cis  woman,   she / her    〕    olivia   ‘ollie’ greaves   is   a   thirty    year   old   superhuman   known   to   be   compassionate   and   charitable,   yet   stubborn   and   naive   at   the   same   time.   rumor   has   it   they’re   a  vigilante   who   has   vibration ( seismic ) manipulation   abilities    —    you’d   never   guess   it   when   you   see   them   working   at   the   department  of  superhuman  affairs  as   a    field  agent.   apparently   they’re   always   listening   to   the  lucky  one   by   taylor  swift,   which   makes   sense   since   they   kind   of   also   remind   me   of   colour co-ordinated notes clipped neatly onto a clipboard,   idolising the very idea of superheroes yet growing up to realise they’re nothing like what you thought,   and   an unshakable determination to do what’s right no matter the consequences.    ╱    peach,   21,   she/they, gmt+1,   none.

*      & .    〔    tessa   thompson,   demi  woman,   she / they    〕  rory  masters   is   a   thirty-six    year   old   superhuman   known   to   be   dedicated   and   intelligent,   yet   brash   and   sarcastic   at   the   same   time.   rumor   has   it   they’re   a  civilian   who   has   teleportation ( wormholes through time - similar to five hargreeves )   abilities    —    you’d   never   guess   it   when   you   see   them   working   at   cain  industries  as   a    cfo.   apparently   they’re   always   listening   to   run  this  town   by   jay-z ,  rihanna  &  kanye west,   which   makes   sense   since   they   kind   of   also   remind   me   of   fingers tapping impatiently against whatever surface is nearest,   keeping your cards close to your chest as a method of self-preservation,   and   an the determined click of heels against the hard floor.    ╱    peach,   21,   she/they, gmt+1,   none.

*      & .    〔    jensen   ackles,   cis man,   he/him    〕     ethan  dashwood   is   a   fourty   year   old   human   known   to   be   focused   and   humorous,   yet   skeptical   and    circumspect  at   the   same   time.   rumor   has   it   they’re   a   civilian      —    you’d   never   guess   it   when   you   see   them   at   moxie’s  bar   working   as   the   owner.   apparently   they’re   always   listening   to   little  dark  age   by   mgmt,   which   makes   sense   since   they   kind   of   also   remind   me   of   ringlets  on  a  bar  table  from  condensed  drink glasses,   stories  you’ve  gathered  from  years  of  working  in  a  social  industry,  and   an  irreverent  outlook  on  the  ideology  of  heroes  and  what  they  stand  for.    ╱    peach,   21,   she/they,   gmt+1,   none.

#appless rp #crime rp #mutants rp #new rp #mature rp