#I miss everyone it feels like 2018 all over again

[sshaw0l]

shumblr (shawol tumblr) is so dead these days 😪😪

#shinee #you’d hardly know they’d done a concert today #I miss everyone it feels like 2018 all over again

[dvrk-moon]

ENHYPEN ; 엔하이픈

HAVING AN IDOL S/O

requested : yes!!!

genre : fluff, crack

pairing : enhypen ot7 x fem!reader

warnings : cursing, this is long asfk LOL

HEESEUNG ; 희승

so you two trained together

and you mutually liked each other while training but didn’t really talk much

you ended up leaving bighit in early 2018 and going to train at cube instead

so you lost contact

but you ended up debuting as the maknae of (g)i-dle

and since you debuted before enhypen, you were more well known than they were initially

you were one of the more famous members in the group in korea, so your face was pretty inescapable

so imagine heeseung’s reaction when he sees a birthday ad for you for the first time

mind literally blown

so he’s like looking you and your group up to see if it’s really you (it is)

and he’s like damn i gotta get in contact with her again

but he doesn’t have an opportunity because even from a friends standpoint, he didn’t really have time because he had to focus on training and eventually going through i-land

ok skip forward and he’s debuted yay!!!!!

so you had a promotion period that’d lined up around a year and a half later where you made a duo debut with your member shuhua while enha was promoting manifesto

and heeseung saw you backstage once

between him seeing you for the first time up until that point he’d literally been trying to find out how to talk to you again

and this was his opportunity!

so before you went to perform heeseung approached you randomly

and lowkey you’d forgotten about heeseung until you saw him again lol

and you’re like oh hey… so awkward because what do you genuinely say to someone you haven’t talked to in like four years

but when you remember that he’s the heeseung that you talked to during your trainee days (the same heeseung you had a thing for) you are more willing to talk to him

but then your conversation is cut short because you have to go perform your song

when you come back, he’s still waiting for you :((((

like that man is COMMITTED to getting to talk to you again

so then after like thirty minutes of talking (right before he has to go promote his song) he finally gets the courage to ask for your number

and you’re like shit yeah

so he texts you like every day

and during your overlapping promotions, he tries to meet up with you backstage as frequently as possible

so eventually you gain feelings for him again (and he obviously does for you) and you start hanging out

but then he goes on tour for a while

you miss him a lot

and he misses you a lot

so when he comes back, he impulsively like picked you up while hugging and you’re like um okay MARRY ME

one hangout he finally asks you out (as more than friends) and you’re so excited

so you quickly begin dating :)

dating him is definitely like dating your number one supporter

like he makes it a point to meet you backstage (even if you don’t have an overlapping promotion) and he makes you teach him your choreography

and you’re like “heeseung i can teach you this at your or my dorm” and he’s like “nope i need everyone here to know that you only teach me your dances”

you’re like “???” but don’t question it bc he’s just odd

he prefers you to go over to his dorms because of his solo room but he’s not opposed to making friends with your members even though they’re all older than him

just know if you go over to enha’s dorms though they will 100% try to be around you all the time

and don’t get heeseung wrong, he obviously wanted the members to like you, but he also wasn’t anticipating his own girlfriend being stolen from him

you almost get caught by dispatch a couple times

but dispatch fr fr catches him at MAMA

like this man was so protective of his idol image for so long and the he watched your performance and dispatch was like “WRITE THAT DOWN WRITE THAT DOWN”

does not gaf if you’re exposed tho bc he’s like “yup that’s my girlfriend suck it she’s MINE”

JAY ; 제이

so you debuted before him

by like a year and a half, so like january 2019

you were one of the members of itzy, which was the talk of the town for quite some time

and jay was actually a huge fan of your group since he was a trainee

your group had a few hit songs in korea but jay made it seem like every song of yours (yes this includes b sides)

you’d been his bias since your teaser dropped ofc

and he made it everyone’s problem to listen to your music during practice

even during i-land there were clips of him doing the shoulder move from ‘wannabe’

but i digress

so once his debut place is secured as of i-land episode 12 he was so excited that he might have the opportunity of meeting you

but like. he had to be normal about it

so he freaked out about you respectfully

but “respectfully” to him was mentioning you as his role model and ideal type

on like every variety program possible

like damn we get it!!!!

but your and his companies thought it would be just so silly and funny if they brought you out to meet him the next time he mentioned you

and so they did exactly that!!!

he was on weekly idol and all of a sudden you came out from where the staff were filming

he actually almost fainted on the spot

and you thought it was sooo cute that he was that flattered over meeting you

so you approached him and asked him for his number

cue him almost passing out pt 2

but you end up talking quite a bit

like u come visit him quite often and he comes to visit you

and he like is literally like the perfect talking stage

so it takes like zero time for you guys to actually start dating

but when he can’t visit you he’s texting you all the time

“your stage was so good how are you real”

always buying albums for each other for support

and he’s like $$ so he buys a ton of yours (and of his if you want some)

he gets so excited when he pulls your photocard and is so happy when you pull his because he thinks it’s fate

but the one time he caught riki’s photocard in the back of your phone he swapped it out for his almost immediately

he always jokes about his bias being yuna, and so you’ve started to make a point of saying your bias is jungwon and sunghoon

and because you did that you took a picture of you and jungwon once to send to him like “proof that my bias is jungwon”

that pic became his lock screen btw

you one time said that you were an enhypen fan and midzy and engene were freaking out

they were like “just date already smh”

little did they know that you already were!

JAKE ; 제이크

you were a year and a half their junior

and you debuted in kep1er

so the time that they were promoting blessed cursed you were promoting wa da da

and like you’d just debuted too

so you had just done a stage and were on your way to your groups van to go back to the dorms

and you go to enter the first black van you see with an open door

and instead of your members you’re met with jake sunghoon sunoo!

you turned red immediately and ran in the other direction to actually find your van where yujin, yeseo, chaehyun, and hiyyih were waiting for you

you told your members and they thought it was so funny

but jokes on them

because the very next week, jake had accidentally walked into your waiting room at mcountdown

who’s laughing now!!! (you are)

after the incident, he found you and came to apologize for walking in

and you were like “ohhh that’s so funny because i actually was the one who came into your van last week!”

but after the apologies were exchanged, you two ended up walking around backstage anyways and just talking about anything and everything

after you and your members had to go perform, jake just waited for you backstage

and once you were done performing you came back and talked to him more ! yay !

but then soon enha had to go on to perform b-c and by the time he came back, your group had already left :’(

it’s okay though because you left your phone number on a post-it that said “FOR JAKE” in their waiting room

enhypen teased him so hard but he was like whatever at least i got her number

so he texted you like almost immediately

soon after, you two texted like all the time and started meeting backstage whenever it was possible

jake asked you out for the first time right before you went on stage to perform and obviously you said yes

but when you went to perform, your voice was such a bright red color that it went viral amongst kep1ians (and later other fandoms)

after that stage, jake and you just sat and talked in the kep1er waiting room for sooooo long

he’s literally the biggest fan of your group

like he’s so open and genuine about how much he likes your group, and he always somehow has one of your songs on his recommendation playlists

and those songs will somehow always be sandwiched between the most beautiful love songs ever and it makes engenes go 🤨🤨

you also are open about being a fan of them

so basically your fans and his have already put two and two together very quickly

but the suspicions were confirmed when he posted a late-night river view picture on weverse and then you posted something extremely similar a couple days later

winning the idgaf war about people finding out though

like he’s like DONTTTT CAREEEEE <3 MY GF

he actually thinks it’d be better if people knew so that no one would try anything on you because you’re taken

SUNGHOON ; 성훈

you were the seventh member of ive, also known as wonyoung’s group

and like wonyoung is your bff

she knew you found sunghoon cute from all the times you’d asked her if you could come visit her on music bank days

so she wanted to play matchmaker!

(love me not reference?!?!)

anyways

she gets “sick” once and is like “hey y/n why don’t you stand in for me?”

and you’re like “yeah sure whatever idc it’s chill”

it’s not chill

for reference, sunghoon also thought it was going to be chill, because he had no idea that you were standing in for wonyoung

little did wonyoung know, sunghoon also found you very attractive

ofc he would’ve tried to get your number through wonyoung, but he was too introverted to even think about it

so when you get there, both of your faces are pretty red, but your cheeks at least cool down by the time you’re recording

his do not 😭

he’s like sneaking looks at you and shit

he thought he was being so subtle too about it like bye 😭😭

but fans love the interactions!!!!

and they’re sooooo stoked to have jungwon sunoo and sunghoon on the radio that you host after the fact

sunghoon fucking DRESSES for the occasion too like damn

and like you made a point to be like “nice outfit”

on the outside he was like “yeah it’s whatever” but on the inside he was shitting his pants

anyways

and so you asked him for his number because you wanted “fashion tips” (you’re a liar)

so the first time he asks you out he’s like “let me style u an outfit”

and then while doing that he’s like “let’s date!”

and you’re like “well alright”

(jk u were just as stoked)

and dating him is so relieving

because you don’t have to keep the relationship (at least beyond friends) a secret

fans love the interactions

and so when you guys actually announce the relationship everyone is so hyped

like they already expected it

but still

he never misses an opportunity to talk about you on live or on a variety show

the interviewer is like “so, sunghoon, what was your favorite part of this comeback?”

he thinks for a second. then all of a sudden, “well y/n-”

like bro we get it

he just does not even care tho bc he’s so down bad

SUNOO ; 선우

okay now so remember when sunoo was a radio dj?

yeah

so you debuted in billlie, and your song, gingamingayo had just been released

and sunoo had heard it quite a few times already on his dj show

and he’s like “ok damn i get it let me look up the song”

he became a fan so quickly

like learned the choreo and everything

so the following week on the radio show he’s like “oh have you guys heard this song it’s so good actually i’m a fan of this group”

and then BOOM next week you’re on the show he radio djs for

chemistry between u guys went CRAZY

and then you filmed a tiktok together

and posted it like a week after the radio episode had gone viral

engenes and belllie’ves went crazy

you guys had already exchanged numbers at that point too

so getting to laugh about your fans freaking out was super fun to you two

you started visiting him at radio show schedules in secret after the fact

so he ends up asking you out about a month later

and ofc you say yes

so once you started dating, he would visit you at your schedules a lot

you would often pretend to be a staff member at the radio show so you could be there without raising much question

but then one time you were a “special guest” on the radio show again, and you filmed another tiktok, but this time it wasn’t like one of your group’s dance challenges

it was like a cute trend

so once you got the okay to post it, you did

this confirmed to engenes and belllie’ves that you were friends at the very least

he always finds a way to sing your songs on live

doesn’t ever sing when it’s your part though 🤨🤨🤨 it’s almost like he wants to hear your voice

one time he came to one of your fansigns “anonymously”

people found out it was him so quickly 😭

he’s so shameless about people knowing though

after that, fans basically already know you’re dating even if you don’t outright say anything

nobody actually cares though

they’re just waiting for that third y/noo tiktok 🙏

JUNGWON ; 정원

you debuted in illit, as a result of the belift survival show “r u next?”

you came in first place, just like jungwon did on i-land

so naturally, under the same sublabel, illit and enhypen passed each other quite frequently

you’ve actually interacted quite a bit with the other members

but for some reason, their leader was a bit standoffish to you

and you had absolutely no idea why he would be

you thought that maybe it was because you’d also come in first place on your respective survival show, so maybe he had one sided beef with you?

it didn’t make sense but that’s just what you assumed

actually ☝️🤓 jungwon had a big fat crush on you

and had no idea what to do about it

like he secretly supported you on r u next? and everything

so eventually, belift decides to make a variety show for illit and enha

as the first place winners, you two are paired together, along with your japanese maknaes, ni-ki and iroha

iroha and ni-ki were already acquainted, so iroha told ni-ki about how funny it was that you and jungwon were in the same group, given that jungwon hated you

and ni-ki’s like ?!

so he like goes up to jungwon and is like “she thinks you hate her bro”

he’s so embarrassed to find out that you thought he hated you

ni-ki teases him so hard about it

so eventually jungwon admits to you (off-camera) that he doesn’t hate you, and in fact he’s quite fond of you

it lifts the biggest weight off his chest when you also admit that you’re fond of him, and that he was your role model ever since you’d joined r u next?

after filming, you two exchange numbers

he’s such a baby like seriously how could you think he hated you

it doesn’t take long AT ALL for you to start dating

in fact hybe/belift encourages it because they think it’ll be good exposure for both groups

and it highkey is

in korea, you guys gain the title of “first place couple” and omgggg knetz eat that up

you’re invited on a ton of variety shows together

jungwon is sooooo so supportive and is lowkey a stan of your group

he like sends you your fancams and is like “teach me this dance pls”

when your two groups pass each other in the hallways, enha and illit always make it a point to tease you two

you guys don’t mind though because at least you have each other ☝️☝️

RIKI ; 니키

you debuted as the maknae of loona

so you’d been in the industry a few years longer than enhypen had

so riki knew of you, but you weren’t super familiar with them

but the both of you were invited onto a variety program for foreign idols

you ended up becoming more familiar with them after being paired together with riki for a couple challenges

one interaction you had made you two go completely viral after executing a twice choreography together extremely well

both bbc and belift saw this as an opportunity to make some money, so they kinda forced you and riki to get close

little did they know that’s what you both wanted anyways lol

so like you’ll have a live with him

or you’ll film a tiktok together

or you’ll post something together

etc

somewhere along the lines you two start dating in secret

namely after you two filmed a live together

and he saw one of the comments that said “y/n please do perfect idol challenge” and you started doing the perfect idol dance on live

you started giggling because you started to forget the dance because you were embarrassed and he was smiling like a fucking maniac and then he realized he really really liked you more than a friend

and so soon after he didn’t wanna waste any more time and he just confessed that he liked you

and you were like “no way me too!!!!”

(everyone could tell)

it wasn’t super in secret though

because belift/bbc had that “bffs for life” image for you two

so you could interact freely

it just took every bone in riki’s body to not grab your hand and pull you into his arms during a dance live

but then womp womp

dispatch exposes you guys like four months into the relationship

no one cares though (except delulu fans)

so when you terminate your contract with bbc for the mistreatment, engenes beg you to audition for hybe/belift because they’re afraid if you go somewhere else you won’t be able to interact freely with him anymore and they love your interactions

you end up joining ctd, which is the company of one of the post-loona acts, along with five of your ex-members

luckily ctd is a good company so they let you and riki still stay together and still have your lives

one time riki was doing a weverse live and you showed up

and fans absolutely LOVED it

ctd is an unknown company so they unexpectedly got a lot more sales with this relationship

they were like DAMN OK

anyways

you guys teach each other your choreos A LOT

like a lot

riki eats them up so bad like fans start saying he’s the seventh member of your group 😭

a/n : had to include illit in this somehow i love them they’re so cute. sorry for the lack of posts i am sooooooo fucking busy and this was in the drafts for forever

#enhypen #enhypen drabbles #enhypen reactions #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #enhypen x female reader #enhypen x y/n #enhypen x you #enhypen fanfics #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fic #enhypen ff #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fluff #enhypen crack #enhypen x idol reader #heeseung #enhypen jay #enhypen jake #sunghoon #sunoo #jungwon #ni ki #dvrk moon

[lilac-5ky]

The Party (Satoru x Fem!Reader)

Plot: You decide to surprise your boyfriend on his birthday

Tags: Birthday fluff, Comedy, Hurt/Comfort, Slight Angst, Shibuya incident?What Shibuya incident? (year is 2018), Established Relationship, Gojo Senpai, Satoru being the adorable menace everyone loves, SO. MANY. CHARACTERS. MAKING. APPEARANCES, feels like an actual jjk ep at this point, (fic deteriorates a bit over the latter part as my mental health does, writing until 6 am is exhausting, i know im late but spare me)

Word Count: Slightly under 9k.

A/N: Happy late Birthday, my love 💙💙💙

Masterlist | Requests | AO3

“Are we there yet?”

“Almost there—watch your step!” You warn, only to lose your footing a second later as you smash head first into your boyfriend’s back.

There is no way Satoru doesn’t know where the two of you are headed. Even with his technique supposedly turned off and your shaky hands concealing his curious eyes, all the things that make Jujutsu Tech into the place that raised generations of sorcerers (yours, included) continue to exist, bearing witness to his intentionally dumb guesses.

“Is it the beach? Are you taking me to see the ocean?” Satoru excites. “Aw, baby! You should have told me so; I would have brought my swimming trunks with! Although, I hafta say swimming in December is probably a bad idea, my nipples will freeze and fall right off. You wouldn’t want that, right?”

A sigh evades your lips, expelled as a little white cloud of frustration. On second thought, his mouth was what needed to be covered. Preferably stitched.

“I appreciate your enthusiasm, but we aren’t going to the beach”—aw, shoot—“and your nipples get to live another day.” Your teeth chatter. Tiptoeing behind him with upstretched arms is already hard on its own. Doing so in the cold is purely exhausting.

You lose count of how many torii gates you cross, the joint click of your shoes switching to an uncoordinated thump as you go from traversing cobblestone paths to climbing an endless uphill of stairs, your stroll, again, feeling like part of a survival show. Curse Master Tengen. They might have only been responsible for the barriers, though in your scare, that doesn’t stop you from holding them accountable.

We are going to die.

Or more like you are going to die, considering Satoru’s already secured himself a life net in the form of your poor broken-to-be bones, and that’s the best case scenario you can hope for, the worst being having to repeat your ascension from the bottom step up.

“Then, are we visiting Himeji Castle?” Satoru continues, the frigid temperature not enough to crack his spirit. “Because I know the single best place for Tama Tsubaki. So fragrant, so elegant, so deliciously sweet! You haven’t been to Himeji before, have you? It’s also known for its excellent leather craftsmanship. Last time I went there, they had these insanely pretty wallets with—”

“N-no!” You yelp, voice as strained as if you’re walking on a tightrope. Shivering, “Wouldn’t you have noticed if I took you on a 4-hour road trip?”

“But time always moves so fast when I’m with you.” He coos in response, his tone serious when he asks, “Wanna take a break? Promise to keep my eyes closed till we reach the top. And after that too, if you want.”

Silky lashes map out the inside of your palms as they flutter against them, sweet little butterfly kisses that convince you to withdraw your hands. After all, you’d hate for his birthday to be stained with blood.

Not yours, at least.

“If you dare open them, I’ll kill you.”

“How scary!” Satoru captures your frozen hand and slips it in his coat’s pocket with far too great precision for someone with impaired vision. You don’t complain. Not even when he makes you bump into every single step on your way up, giggling to himself, until, as promised, you reach the summit and he lets go for you to assume your previous positions.

“I don’t”—pant—“miss”—pant—“walking this w-walk.” You muster in between labored breaths, palms on your knees as you crouch forward like an elderly lady with chronic back pain. “Wh-what are you smiling for?”

“Nooooooothing!” Satoru chirps, soft dimples carving hard into his milky complexion. “Just takes me back to the time when you still called me Gojo Senpai is all.”

Your youth comes playing in your head like an old cassette forced to rewind, bittersweet recollections sending you on a sudden trip down memory lane.

You met Satoru at the peak of spring and fell in love with him over the course of fall—a swirl of autumn leaves coloring the currently naked maple trees red. Muddy soles and uniforms soggy from the rain. Chasing after an umbrella you agreed to share and hopscotching across shallow puddles. Laughing louder than the pending storm.

But before that, bickering. So much bickering that continuously tested the patience of those around you, arguments over video games escorting you to morning assembly, and plans to catch new movie releases sealing your goodbyes.

The bitterness of Shoko’s cigarettes and the promise to never smoke again. Arcades and electronics in Akihabara. Karaoke and conveyor belt sushi in Shibuya. Getting a stranger to buy you your first beer and puking your guts outside a convenience store in Shinjuku. The promise to never drink again.

Moon-viewing festival. The unforgettable sight of him in a yukata, your heart multiplying itself into your eyes. Stolen glances and not-so-accidental nudges. Your first kiss tasting of melon soda, your second burning faster than the wick of his sparkler. Another kind of promise.

The giddiness of first love filters the film pink. Five-minute dates behind the old gym in flash forward. Late-night expeditions to each other’s dorms. Your loss of innocence overshadowed by the sudden loss of Haibara. Tears that threaten to spill out of the sequence. Suguru’s betrayal. The strength to move forward.

You’ve come a long way since the days you cheekily called him Gojo Senpai without a care in the world, and even though tragedy managed to forever sully them, standing here with him now makes it worth the pain. Given the chance, you’d do it all over again.

Rolling the cricks around your neck and shoulders, you walk up to Satoru, a tug at the lowest hanging tuft of hair signaling for him to meet your height. Knees bent. Eyes still closed. Lips still curled. Features so undeniably beautiful at 29 as they were at 17.

“Don’t move.” You mumble, smiling softly as you watch him pucker his lips in anticipation of a kiss. Instead, you fish out a pair of rectangular shades from inside your pocket and place them over the bridge of his nose.

“Let’s go before we get scolded for being late again.” Your hand steals his this time around, ushering him forward. A speckle of heat shooting from your fingers to your cheeks. “I trust you not to spoil your own surprise, Gojo Senpai.”

You are less than thirty steps away from your destination when, without a warning, the man behind you stops moving, forcing you to halt with him.

“What is it?” You ask, your body reeled closer to his from the bind of your fingers. “If you’re gonna ask whether I’m taking you to Laputa, I’m sorry to disappoint, but I’m still figuring out the coordinates.”

“That’s not it.” He huffs a chuckle against your knuckles, tenderly brushing them against his cheek. “But drop a pin when you do. Always wanted to take a nap in that fluffy flower bed. I’m sure it tastes fluffy too, just like whipped cream.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.” You return, a yawn coaxed at the mention of napping. “So, what is it? Why did we stop?”

“I’m cold.”

“Well, so am I, but we really are close this time. If you just—”

“You should kiss me.” Satoru announces with solemnity better befitting a declaration of war. He realizes that himself, bringing his free hand to ruffle the hair on the back of his skull. Awkwardly. Ears tinged red. Cutely. “That would warm me up.”

“Is that your excuse?” You ask, chapped lips rubbing together. Your heartbeat felt in your throat. You shouldn’t be feeling like this. Not when you’ve known each other for the better part of your lives. It’s not normal. You don’t think you are.

“Nope.” He balances things out with a boyish smile that doesn’t make things any better for the lovesick teenage girl residing in your heart. She doesn’t know any better but to fawn over it. “My excuse is that we haven’t kissed here before. We’ve kissed there,” you follow his pointer, first to a bench made of stone and then to a blind spot behind some shrubs, “and there—many times there, heh, but not here. So we should kiss.” He reasons with a simplistic, nearly childish mindset. One you can’t quite argue against.

Until his spell breaks on you rather unceremoniously.

“I thought your eyes were closed!”

“Well, they were, but then I—hah, stop pullin’ like that—started missing your pretty face too much. Can’t deny me the simple joys in life, sweet cheeks.” He grins. “C’mon, just one kiss. Then we can meet with Yuji and the others. Promise I’ll act extra surprised!”

“Y-you knew?” Your eyes widen.

“I’ve known for about a week now? Heard you two talking on the phone, plus the kids asked to be put on cleaning duty when they usually leave everything to Megumi. Then a ton of chairs started to go missing, and—”

You barely bother listening to the rest, too caught up in your thoughts for Satoru’s detailed explanation of where it all went wrong to matter. Every year without exception—from your 16th birthday party-for-two in that tiny storage room you were accidentally locked in together to last year’s all-out murder mystery dinner party—he’s managed to sweep you off your feet, and yet you can’t throw him one party without it being spoiled.

You aren’t a planner. You know that. You know, but somehow you hoped this year would be different. That, twelve years after his insistence to spend his birthday in your company alone took root, (“Why would I want to spend this day with anyone other than you, angel? We have tons of fun together, don’t we? Just me and my special girl. Speaking of, any special requests for your birthday? I have some ideas myself, hehe~”) and one year after he stopped waiting for an apparition to show up and celebrate with him, he’d allow himself to bask in the appreciation of the living.

“Are you mad?”

The buzz of his voice quiets down, the paleness of a winter morning dawning beneath snowy lashes as he peers at you from above the rim of his sunglasses. Snowflakes of wonder stirring in his irises that contain them like two perfect snow globes, trapped in them, an ageless moment of the past.

“I’m relieved.” Satoru whispers, so faintly you almost miss it.

“Re…lieved?”

“You brought everyone here, right?” You nod. “Without blackmailing anyone?”

“Just Nanami.” You admit. “And Ijichi—Shoko promised to take him out for drinks if he came.”

“That’s good.” His lips pull into a smile warm enough to thaw your worries. “Honestly, I’m not the biggest fan of my own birthday.”

“I’ve noticed,” you interrupt. “You aren’t the only one perceptive here, Mister Six-Eyes.”

He gives you a funny look, creases forming over his brow as an imaginary zipper is drawn across the corners of his lips.

You unzip it. “Please continue, Great Gojo Senpai.”

His eyes light up. Satoru isn’t one for honorifics, yet hearing you address him as such makes the lovesick teenage boy in his heart shudder with excitement.

“You know what birthday I got the biggest haul for?” A shake of your head prompts him to continue. “Seventh.” Figures, you add. He nods. “Wanna know what they got me? A Hokusai painting. You know. One of those wavy ones.” Only he would ever refer to a Japanese classic that way. “But seven-year-old kids don’t care about dead people’s paintings or Shinto shrine visits. They want adventure, balloons, and luscious Gâteau au Chocolat. The new Street Fighter game, maybe.” His fingers snap together. “They want Laputa.”

You forget your hand is still in his until it’s given a light squeeze, Satoru nervously fiddling with your fingers while he mulls over what to say next.

“Bottom line is, birthdays with the clan suuuuuucked. And then, as I got older, I grew tall enough to outrun those stupid goons watching over me. So I’d run straight to Suguru’s house, drag him to the station, and from there, we’d go to that one pastry shop in Shinjuku and buy every cake on display. We’d eat till we both got sick—hah, you wouldn’t think his stomach was this sensitive with all those curses he gobbled up, right?—and then a few years later we met Shoko, and she’d put out her cigarette on my share.” He hisses like a distressed cat. “Then we met you”—another squeeze—“and those were the best birthdays of my life. Back when we were all together.”

“Satoru—”

“I didn’t think I could have that again.” He cuts you off. “But you said you got everyone together, and while some of us are no longer here, a lot are. This is good. You did well. I’m relieved, really. I’m happy.”

By the time Satoru finishes talking, you find yourself at a loss for words, blankly staring at his unaffected expression. It’s easy to forget how vulnerable he can be in those rare outbursts of sincerity; easy to forget that the one branded as the strongest is a person who cries and breaks too, and even easier to let yourself be deceived by that happy-go-lucky attitude. But as a smile begins to take shape upon your features, you can see where he’s coming from.

You are relieved.

“What are you smiling for?” Satoru asks in the same manner you did earlier.

“Nooooooothing!” You shamelessly steal his line. “Just thinking about the sorry look on your face when you realize there’s no chocolate cake.”

“You evil witch!” He proclaims, mouth hanging slack and forefinger pointing in accusation. “Next you’re gonna tell me you didn’t buy candles either!”

“Actually…”

You take hold of his finger before he can protest any further. Not that he wants to when both his hands are enveloped in the warmth of your smaller ones, childishly swinging by your sides. Back and forth. Up and down. Round and round. Arms overlapping as you both step closer, chuckling at a joke only your eyes seem to know.

“About that kiss.” You begin, laughing again at the small, exasperated mhm your boyfriend lets out, his Adam’s apple bobbing under the high neck of his sweater. “Are you still feeling cold?”

“So cold.” Satoru wiggles his shoulders as if he’s truly shivering. “Warm me up before the cold hand of death takes me away. Pleaseeeee.”

You aren’t one to deny him. Tiptoeing forward, you crane your neck so you can reach higher, while he bends his knees to shorten himself, meeting you halfway. Heavy breaths are shared as your noses brush together. The subtle notes of bergamot on his clothes blending with the wintry crisp in the atmosphere. Eagerness tugging at his bottom lip.

You might not be one to deny him, but you definitely are the type to tease him.

“Why don’t you do it? Why should I be the one to kiss you?”

“Wha—because I asked you!” Satoru quips.

“And?”

“And I have Senpai rights. Plus you didn’t pay boyfriend tax this morning, and come think of it, you didn’t wish me a Happy Birthday either!” He gasps like he only realized that just now. He builds his entire case around it. “Birthday Boy demands it. You have no choice but to give in or you’ll be cursed for your next seven birthdays!”

“But I thought you didn’t like your own birthday.”

“Baby!” Satoru finally breaks, his voice reduced to a high-pitched whine. “Even so, you can’t be mean to me on my own birthd—”

His lips are warmer than yours when you nullify the distance, conveying the softness and fruitiness of your stolen chapstick. A smirk is written on them, bitten away as you drag his hands closer to your body, foreheads bumping together and sunglasses nearly slipping from his nose. He giggles into your mouth, whispering how hot he finds it when you take the lead—moaning at the way your tongue presses against his, and disregarding the three sets of footsteps that enter the scene.

“Sensei!” A somewhat recognizable, albeit squeaky, voice calls out. “We’ve been waiting for you!”

“Way to ruin the surprise, Itadori!” Another, angrier, squeaky voice scolds.

“Idiot, you just said there was a surprise. And I told you both to go easy on the hellion.” The last of their group tries to deadpan, somehow sounding more ridiculous than his peers.

“Pft—F-Fushiguro!” Nobara and Yuji laugh in sync, too preoccupied with poking fun at their classmate to notice your form erasing itself from existence behind Satoru’s back as he turns around to face them.

“Yuji! Nobara! Megumiiiii!” His tone is colored with a falsetto when he addresses his favorite (target) student, prompting the duo to keep harassing him with countless pokes at his confetti-laced spikes.

Your plan to use poor Megumi’s torture as a decoy to flee the premises goes to waste as your hand is held out in the open, with Satoru showing you off to them like the big prize at the end of a wrestling match.

“Oh, future Mrs. Gojo Sensei!” Yuji is the first to acknowledge your presence; the effects of the gas are all but worn off as he timidly waves at you. “I didn’t know you were here! What brings you to school today?”

“That’s quite the title, Yuji. Told you to just—ugh!—call me by my first name.” You struggle to pull your wrist out of Satoru’s grasp. You lose. “Also, no need to keep playing charades. He knows.”

“You told him? Then what was all of this for?” Nobara comes forth, a pink balloon dramatically deflating in her hands.

“Actually, I figured it out myself! Aren’t you proud to have such a smart teach—”

“No!” Two out of three shout in unison. You almost do so yourself.

After their back and forth escalates into a full-blown debate on who’s more intelligent, Satoru or Megumi’s shikigami (the results to be announced on a future episode of Are You Smarter than a Toad?) and happy birthdays are wished, Yuji asks the one question you feared answering the most.

“Sensei? Miss Y/N? What were you doing out there in the cold?”

Their own curiosity beats Megumi and Nobara to the classroom as they stall their entrance, with Satoru being the first to hit the buzzer.

“You see, Yuji, when a man and a woman love each other very much, they—ahahouch! Love really does hurt! It hurts so badly!” He yelps as you stomp on his foot hard enough to cripple an average man.

“Don’t you dare use me as a test subject for the talk, Satoru!”

“What talk, darlin’?” He smiles coyly, not losing the chance to brag. “Oh, you mean the talk about how you fell victim to my charms and couldn’t wait till we were alone to kiss me? Guess I still got it, despite the extra candle on the cake.”

“Aww!”

“Eww!”

“Gross!”

The reactions vary.

“You’ll get another candle lit up in your memory if you keep spewing shit like this!” Your attempt to step on his shoe is countered by his technique.

“Hey, no cursing in front of my precious students!” Satoru chides. “We’re supposed to set an example for them, not taint their innocent souls!”

“Satoru!” With a tremendous roar, the door flies open, startling the three students to jump behind their teacher and you to follow suit.

Principle Yaga stands by the frame, his authoritative tone coursing through your body as it recalls every punishment he ever subjected you to. The soreness in your calves from running laps around school for being late. The dryness in your eyes after surviving one of his excruciating educational VHS tape sessions for being “cheeky” and the ache in your fingers from scrubbing the gym floors squeaky clean—courtesy of being caught sneaking back into the dorm with tousled hair in the dead of night.

You almost feel sorry for Satoru acting as the wavebreaker for the incoming tsunami, but then you remember how the majority of your crimes were incidentally committed in his name and wish him good luck. He deserves whatever earful he gets, possibly something along the lines of “Sixteen minutes late? Are you trying to break a world record?”

“You think Gojo Sensei will die?” Yuji whispers. “He’s at that age when a lot of celebrities die, right?”

“He’d better not! I didn’t bring any funeral wear with me.” Nobara answers back.

“Can’t you read the room?” Megumi rasps. “Plus, that’s the 27 Club you’re talking about. Gojo Sensei has outlived that.”

“Didn’t take you for a clubgoer, Fushiguro.” The two of them snicker, prompting Megumi to sigh as he again points out their idiocy.

“Principal Yaga!” Satoru bravely puts himself forward, your line of defense falling apart like a house of cards you’re made to support on your own. “Are you here to wish me a happy birthday? How thoughtful! Guess it’s true what they say: People mellow down with age.”

“Sixteen minutes late—”

The man’s mouth twitches furiously as an invisible countdown starts in all your heads, none of you expecting the situation to simmer down before it boils over.

“But I’ll let it slide this once. Happy birthday, Satoru. I’ve stopped hoping that the years bring you wisdom and fix your bad habits. It’s pointless; every year you turn more impudent than the year before,”—is that supposed to be a birthday wish or you getting kicks from throwing shade at me?—“but I wish they bring you happiness. I made this with you in mind. Hope it’s to your liking.”

You watch as Principal Yaga reveals a felt doll from behind his back, handing it to a repulsed Satoru, who makes no effort to conceal his personal feelings, let alone express gratitude.

“Huh? What’s that supposed to be?” He asks, shaking the doll so quickly you only catch a glimpse of its fluffy white tail and stitched black sunglasses—a cat?

“It’s you.” Its maker replies, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “And he has a name. Satoru, say hello to Catoru.”

Four of you share a look among yourselves, too stunned to say a thing until Satoru and his doll counterpart face you, the latter being held up by the scruff of his neck. Just like an actual cat.

“Do I look like this?” Satoru asks, and you all go quiet, with three hands simultaneously nudging you to represent them. Traitors!

“I mean, there are times when you do act like a cat—kinda?” Your voice is pinched up, hands moving frantically to dispute your words as your boyfriend’s face turns sourer than umeboshi. “But you look ten times—no, a hundred times more handsome! I promise! If anything, you resemble a—uh, Turkish Angora? Those are super beautiful!”

“You’d better get along.” Yaga warns. “I designed Catoru with a sweet tooth like you.”

“I don’t want a little mochi thief in my house!”

Yaga marches back into class without waiting to hear Satoru’s concerns about the impending depletion of his secret mochi stash. The kids tail after him, leaving you to comfort Satoru with a gentle pat on his back. “Let’s go inside, mm?”

The atmosphere inside the classroom is significantly more promising than what Yuji showed you on FaceTime this morning. All desks are pulled to the side in a rough T formation, with the spread of food you spent two nights making carefully put in order, from platters full of golden-crusted corn dogs and crispy chicken fingers to dainty cupcakes decorated with Konpeito candy and colorful mochi of every filling you could think of. Inumaki serves bar, and you’re pleased to see people returning for seconds, with Yuji waving his hands while praising your popping candy cake poppers to his taciturn upperclassman.

Balloons hang near the ceiling—a flag garland dangling from one end of the blackboard to the other. A gigantic birthday message spans across the surface, with smaller wishes sprinkled in abundance, some consisting of mere congratulations and others expressed with heartfelt emotion. You can easily guess who wrote what based on handwriting alone; Megumi’s by far the tidiest.

You knew leaving the decorations to Nobara was a smart choice. She knows it too. She doesn’t waste the chance to boast to Maki about it, the older girl twirling a bouquet made of lollipops between her fingers while gazing at the drifting clouds outside the window.

Satoru was right. This is good. You have every reason to be proud, too.

In the far back of the room, the adults have struck up a conversation with Panda, who snaps a picture of your entrance. The two party poopers—Ijichi and Nanami—look up from their quiet exchange.

“Satoru! You came!” Principal Yaga’s pride and joy steps forward with open arms, a party hat pulled taut between his round ears. “Congratulations on your birthday,” says Panda, planting two identical party hats on your heads. “Let me take a picture of the two of you. Couldn’t get an angle from back there.”

Your shoulders get squeezed as Satoru smooshes your faces together, the pointy tip of his hat nearly taking your eye out when he tries to steal a kiss from your cheek. You squint—and snap!

“Hey, can you take another? I think I wasn’t looking straight.”

“No do-overs!” Satoru interferes before Panda can even open his mouth. “Don’t worry! Getting a bad picture of you is impossible when you look perfect at any given time. Right, Panda?”

His former student glances down at the camera, letting out the exact same sound your computer makes when a Windows program crashes, and then rushing to mask it with a hearty chortle.

“Of course, Satoru! You got very lucky; Y/N is as beautiful as she is kind-hearted.” He shows you a grin that’s mostly teeth. “You know, she worked really hard for this party. We barely did anything ourselves.”

Not true; you all did your part…

Your eye is endangered once more, with his lips finding their target this time around. “That’s my vanilla caramel drizzle cupcake muffin baumkuchen pie to ya!”

That’s half your macchiato and half your bakery order, you argue silently.

“Shame Yuta couldn’t make it.” Panda continues. “Heard he’s down with a cold, though he did send you his gift via Maki.” A fuzzy thumb points at the closet-turned-gift-depository, where various bags and packages are stacked into a pyramid. “Anyway. I’ll let the two of you mingle. Come over if ya want more pictures of you taken. Got lots of props too.”

Your eyes follow as he returns to his post, spotting Shoko experimenting with a pair of groucho glasses. Nanami shakes his head disapprovingly, leaning back into his chair while Ijichi’s stutter is visible from where you and Satoru stand.

You glance up at him, a default smile plastered on his lips. Unreadable to others, but painfully obvious to you. The face he’s searching for is not among those present.

“Everyone seems to be having fun.” Satoru points out.

“Y-yeah.” You croak.

“Can’t believe you got everything down. Class looks like it did back then. Even the wobbly pom-pom on the party hats.” He squeezes the one on your head. “That caught me off guard.”

“Well, it would’ve been a greater surprise if you didn’t eavesdrop on my private phone calls.”

“That ain’t on me, sweets.” He whisks your hand into his and drags you onward. “Not my fault I was born with heightened senses. Better get used to it; our kids will probably take after me in that aspect.”

You shrug his comment off, watching as Satoru stows the cat away in the closet and dramatically dusts his hands off. “Another great addition to the world’s creepiest collection.” He grumbles.

“But Catoru is the cutest so far!” You object.

He is about to answer when a sound akin to that of someone choking has you both turning toward the makeshift buffet where Ijichi is downing water straight from the jug, his sunken cheeks a scarlet shade of red.

“Shit! He must’ve discovered the jalapeno poppers.” You bite your lips into a straight line, feeling somewhat responsible.

“Nice job!”

“It wasn’t my intention!”

Your plea of innocence doesn’t resonate with Satoru, who gives you a thumbs up before forming a cone around his mouth and shouting at Ijichi—chuckling at the hurried way the man searches for an escape between chairs and people.

“Ijichi! Oi, Ijichi! I-ji-chi! Over here! Come wish me a happy birthday!” He waves his arms around like Tom Hanks in Cast Away, declaring—unlike Tom Hanks—that he’s coming to him instead.

“Don’t go around terrorizing people, ‘Toru.” Your voice has him stopping his march to peck your lips.

“Promise I’ll be a good boy. You’re free to punish me if I’m not.” He smirks, finger-gunning you all the while stepping backwards in slow motion.

“You never are!”

“Hmm, that’s only because I’m the best. And you’d better prepare a handsome reward for when we get home, ‘cause the best always wins.” A flirtatious wink makes you question how many people listened in on your exchange, praying that the answer is none.

You take advantage of Satoru’s absence to pay a visit to your old friends, mentally counting the days since the last time you all gathered up. It’s been way too long—the beer you’d promised to catch up over turned into a distant fantasy.

“Gonna get yourself nauseous if you keep staring at that whirlpool, Shoko Senpai.” You plop down on the closest vacant chair, the bored brunette humming without lifting her eyes from the lemonade swirling inside her cup.

“If you gaze long into the abyss, the abyss will also gaze into you.” She states, managing to sound both mesmerized and disinterested at the same time.

“And? Seen anything yet?” You lean closer.

She retires with a sigh, dark circles looming below her hazelnut eyes. “Nothing yet.”

“How about now?”

Pulling your trump card—aka one of those miniature vodka bottles you specifically brought with her in mind—from your pocket, you pour a generous amount into her drink, reminiscing about the time she accidentally spiked Satoru’s soda and had him swimming on the floor.

It takes one sip for Shoko to liven up, a sudden jolt of energy coursing through her veins as she reaches out for the bottle.

“You’re a lifesaver, you know that?”

You chuckle. “Big praise coming from someone who actually saves lives.”

“Big words coming from people who openly drink in front of underage students.” The man to your left observes, absentmindedly picking at the tentacles of the octopus sausage on his plate.

“Kento! You made it!” You tip from one side of your chair to the other, arms dangling empty as he dodges your hug. “Having fun?”

“Please stop acting like him. I know the years in his company have caused your twisted personalities to merge, but the world is already wretched enough with one Gojo Satoru around.” He munches on the “good part” of the dissected octopus, discarding the tentacles inside a carefully folded napkin.

“But to answer your question, whether I’d rather spend my Friday afternoon explaining to everyone I know that the man in the picture dancing inappropriately with half-naked models in Ibiza isn’t me but a look-alike or sitting here, chaperoning a bunch of kids and making sure no one kills themselves, then yes. It’s not as horrible as I expected. And you’re as good of a cook as I remembered.” He wipes his mouth. “But I’m still clocking out at 7 sharp.”

“Come on! I did what I had to do to get you here!” You giggle, experiencing a little of the same rush Satoru feels when he’s poking fun at Ijichi. Oh no. “I am glad you’re enjoying the food, at least!”

A sound viler than any curse’s wail pierces through your ears as a TV cart is dragged into the room. You recognize it as Yaga’s old torture device—those five-hour black and white tapes gleaming menacingly on the lower shelves, with an unknown machine piled atop the cassette player. You aren’t sure what its purpose is until Yuji connects a microphone to it.

“Everyone—ah, ah, ah! Can you hear me?” The boy dabs a palm against the microphone, sounding loud and clear across the room. “Fushiguro, can you hear me? Fushiguro—ah, ah, ah!” The last of his ah’s interrupted by Megumi’s calling him out in front of their live audience.

“Everyone, thank you for coming to Gojo Sensei’s birthday party! I’m Itadori Yuji, and I’m happy to have co-hosted this event with Miss Y/N.”

A couple of heads turn in your direction, Satoru’s among them. It’s easy to make out his silhouette when he dwarfs everyone around him—Principle Yaga on his side and an antsy Ijichi lurking behind them.

“I enrolled in this school a little over a semester ago by accident.” Yuji continues undeterred. “Back then, I didn’t know any more about curses than the next person. Not that I do now.” He scratches through his hair. “Honestly, it was a lot to stomach, especially the part where I get to share my body with another. I was told I’d be better off dead, and I did die once. I was supposed to be dead, but then Gojo sensei gave me a choice, and I’m here because of that choice. More than a helping hand, he’s been a guiding light to me, and on behalf of all of us, thank you, and Happy Birthday!”He bows. “I hope you have a good one!”

Yuji holds out the microphone for Satoru, the two of them sharing a high five with an affectionate pat seeing the boy off.

“Thank you, Yuji, for this wonderful speech!” Satoru grins, evidently moved by his student’s words. “Everyoooooooooooone! Give it up for the man of the hour, the one and only, the most incredibly handsome and magnificently strong sorcerer known as Gooooooooooojo Saaaaatoruuuu!” His body twists in a pirouette, peace signs and heart signs flying everywhere as he lands with a finger pointing at where the imaginary camera would be.

Unsurprisingly, no one is impressed. Cricket sounds almost audible.

“Wow, okay. Tough crowd, I guess.” His lips comically jerk to one side of his face, his tone turning nasal before switching back. “I won’t bore you with individual thanks and other useless formality crap.”

He smirks at the way your mouth rounds a silent gasp. Nanami notices too, posing a question you shrug off.

“To cut it short: first-years! You’ve all proved yourselves as worthy sorcerers and worthier humans. As a reward, I’m proud to announce your reward in the form of a—c’mon guys, drum your desks a little!—luxurious, one of a kind, ten outta ten, uniquely planned field trip by moi!”

“Is it Paris? Are you taking us to Paris?” Nobara dreams out loud.

“Sensei! How about Universal Studio? I saw them post their newest churrito flavor on their webpage.”

“Can I sit this one out?” A gloomy murmur begs.

“Great thinking, Yuji! Unfortunately, Nobara, we won’t be going overseas this time, but, Megumi, you’ll definitely want to reconsider once you hear our destination, which iiiiiis—excitement is free, everyone!—Parque Espana!” Satoru claps for his suggestion.

Three dejected faces say pass in unison, with only Megumi daring to complain about Satoru taking him and Tsumiki to the theme park every second Sunday when the two were younger. You remember that. Some times you’d tag along, and you’d all grab ice cream while staring at that humongous roller coaster the kids were too short to ride.

Undefeated, Satoru directs his attention to the second-year students, the three of them loitering by the chip bowl. His tone turning grave, “Second years, I’m honestly very disappointed in all of you. In our two years of knowing each other, you never thought to throw your favorite teacher a party for his birthday. You’re lucky I don’t have the authority to drop you a grade, but still. You fail!”

“Fish Flakes!” Inumaki expresses his supposed disagreement.

“Huh? You never even told us when your birthday was because you didn’t want us knowing your real age, you blindfolded idiot!”

“Maki, not now!” Panda anxiously gets in her way. “Cool it!”

“You should have figured it out yourselves.” Satoru toots. “Moving forward! I’d like to give my special thanks to the moon of my life, my sun, and my stars.”—you knew watching Game of Thrones with him was a very bad idea—“Y/N! Come here, sweetie. Don’t be shy; everyone knows how much we love each other.

It almost feels like you have the limelight shining on you, with every person eagerly awaiting your response. You gulp hard, whispering so that only Nanami can hear. “You were right. Please save me.”

“What is it, Buttercup? You already have my heart, but if there’s anything you’d like for me to do, then now is the moment to say it.” Satoru smiles sweetly, his voice dripping with honey.

“Actually, there is. Can you put me down?” You kick your legs around while he hoists you up in bridal style, your unjust abduction having occurred in the blink of an eye.

“Anything and everything for you!” He kisses the top of your head, holding you close to him even after letting your feet touch the ground. “Alright, that’d be all! I hope everyone gets to have the time of their lives. Now, let’s get this party started!” He throws the microphone up in the air.

Nothing happens.

“I said, let’s get this party star—whatever.” Satoru gives up half-way through raising his arm again. “Yuji, play something fun!”

“On it!” Yuji salutes him, and the two of you walk away from the blackboard.

A faint sigh echoes behind you, its relief cut short as Satoru grabs the microphone once more. “Ah, right. Ijichi, I’ll see you in my office on Monday. I’d wear a headband if I were you.”

“I’ve c-committed a mortal sin, G-Gojo!” Ijichi struggles to say, uncertain of the crime he’s being accused of, yet hopeful for Satoru’s forgiveness.

“You are such a menace!” You throw a playful punch to his chest once he sits you on his lap, away from the eyes of people gathering around the karaoke machine, and close to Nanami, who departs with a disgusted scoff.

“You love me for it.” Satoru’s lips press softly against yours, incapable of hiding his smile when you pull his face in for another kiss, the tight squish of his arms making sure you’re going nowhere.

“I do.” You affirm, rubbing your nose on his. “I love you.”

“How much?” His eyes crinkle fondly.

“Hmm, like, a lot?” You giggle, your fingers absently brushing through the trimmed hair on the back of his skull. “Enough to spend half a lifetime by your side and still find you the most incredible person in all of creation.”

“Wanna spend the other half too?” His breath on your cheek colors your skin red, your eyes momentarily lost between shades of blue.

“Come back with a ring, Shit-toru.”

“That’s not the way you talk to your future husband!”

“He’s here? With us? Right now?” You gasp, frantically looking around, until Satoru forces you to face him with a thumb on your chin, his other hand squeezing an innocent touch around your thigh.

“Satoru!”

“Scared your future husband will see us?” He throws his head back, laughing at your panicked state. “Don’t worry. I’ll fight him for you. And win. After all, I am the strongest.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, he did it! He said the line with only—”you glance at your phone—“six hours left before the day ends, what an amazing record!”

A shrill screech fired from the other side of the room interrupts your banter, the microphone turning into a lethal weapon in Panda’s massive palms. The students appear to have divided themselves into couples, fighting over who gets to go first until Inumaki takes the initiative with a rap song—or, more accurately, sings over a rap song, as the only words in his roster revolve around onigiri ingredients that are mentioned nowhere in the lyrics.

“Stop hogging the mic!” Maki attempts to steal it, backing away as the boy teases to unzip his collar. She knows better than to push her limits while unarmed.

Panda still gets in the middle. For precaution, you assume.

“Reminds you of something?” Satoru comments on your riveted attention. “They’re just like us. How we once were. Young and full of dreams.”

“Nah. You were always a horny bastard.” You slap the inappropriately placed hand away before you get up and sit where Nanami was previously stationed. Poking your tongue at his devastated expression.

Conversation between the two of you is kept to a minimum after a different tune begins blasting from the speakers—Yuji and Megumi take over the stage with Takada-Chan’s most recent success, one of them performing the vocals to perfection while the other merely mumbles yeah’s whenever the song calls for it. Next are Nobara and Maki, the two girls belting out to an anthem of empowerment that has the boys in the room gulping uncomfortably among themselves.

The mood shifts completely when Yaga pours his soul into an 80’s power ballad, his raspy voice transforming into the smoothest velvet, complemented by Panda’s harmonies. Even Satoru praises his old teacher, cheering him on from the bleachers with a makeshift napkin-banner.

You don’t realize your boyfriend’s gone until you see him with the microphone in hand, bending the cable as he makes quick gestures for the floor to empty, performing what is possibly the cheesiest, most romantic love song ever written, and ushering you to join him once he drops to his knees—quite literally at your feet.

You ruffle his hair and shove his goofy expression away. No matter how charming his singing voice may be, he’ll never get you to sing in public. Similar to how he’ll never catch you admitting how loudly your heart beats in your chest, despite the fact that it’s written all over your face.

God, you hate this man. So much that part of you wishes you’d spent his birthday like you did every other year—tangled in his sheets and kissing till you cannot breathe.

As soon as the karaoke session ends, Megumi and Yuji exit the room to bring in the cake, with Satoru jumping them for a thorough inspection. The dessert is inspired by one of his favorite confections. Handmade mochi bites are spread evenly between three layers of fluffy strawberry cake, the entire enterprise covered in fine red bean paste and topped with vanilla buttercream, strawberry cutouts, and, of course, more mochi in a light pink shade to recreate the world’s largest daifuku.

You lost count of how many failed attempts it took to create your own recipe from scratch, but the look on Satoru’s face is better than any payment you could possibly ask. He struggles to find a word that describes his feelings—phenomenal being the one he ends up using. Definitely better than chocolate cake. Perhaps even on par with the legendary Laputa.

Everyone gathers anew for the birthday boy to blow out his candles, awkwardness sweeping through the crowd as, one by one, you come to the conclusion that there is no available lighter.

you search through your pockets for a lighter, finding none. Shoko’s unhealthy (and supposedly cut) habit comes in clutch, with the brunette handing Yuji the keys to her office. The boy sprints outside at full speed, idle chatter put on pause as the TV starts playing on its own, the song selection window traded for a relic of the past.

“Is this even working?” A young Shoko taps the camera, tilting her body at a curious angle. Short skirt rolling up.

“Probably not. That shit’s ancient, but feel free to test it! Maybe try showing it something funnier, like your pant—”

Horny bastard. Right on the money.

“Cut it off, Satoru.” A voice makes both you and present-day Satoru shudder, its owner taking the camera from their friend’s hand to shoot footage around the gym. “Yaga Sensei told us to use this to document the Goodwill Event, not film amateur gravure.” The frame shakes once more. “Looks good to me.”

“Pft, what’s the point?” Satoru flicks a pebble at the camera. “So he can make a quick buck out of me destroying those brats? The outcome’s already decided. Now turn this thing off. I wanna lay under the sun without some junk in my face.”

The camera zooms in on him splaying his limbs on the grass, possibly near the track field, based on the slight hint of red inside the green.

“The only junk in your face is your face itself.” Shoko deadpans, making him chase after her while Suguru continues filming them until they turn into a pair of flickering dots.

“These two.”

The world is turned upside down as a close-up of his bang takes over the screen. Realizing that himself, he pulls the camera further away, cat-like irises shining like pure amber under the sunny sky. You’ve missed their warmth.

“Preparation for the Kyoto Sister-School Goodwill Event, Day 1.” He declares, and the screen goes black in an instant, white noise reigning over the space.

Your hand seeks Satoru’s on its own, the faint sound of his name dangling from your parted lips, both your breaths catching in your throats. He’s left gawking at the screen, reciprocating your touch with shaky fingers that try to anchor him to you. It’s safe to say this was not part of your plan.

“Weird. Thought it’d be one of those old workout tapes.” Nobara reveals herself as the culprit behind the incident, ejecting the tape back into its box and later standing with her hands pinned to her waist. “Gojo Sensei, I recognize you and Ieri, but who was that third person in the video? Bangs Guy.”

Out of everyone in the room, she’s the only one to have absolutely no information on Suguru. Aside from the adults, the second-years were all present during last year’s attack, and Megumi knows whatever has slipped from Satoru during his stay at the Gojo clan’s compound.

Nobody rushes to respond; all of you tuned in on Satoru even though only Shoko, Yaga, and you are directly gazing at him, his face contorted with a pained grimace he tries hard to disguise.

“Geto Suguru was—”

“My best friend.” Satoru grins at Principal Yaga’s attempt to help him, grasping your hand more confidently as he confronts the girl. “Geto Suguru is my best friend.”

“Huh. Guess there’s hope for everyone.” No one’s left with any courage to laugh at Nobara’s poor attempt at a joke. “Where is he now—”

“Senseiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!” A voice gains volume as the door bursts open, Yuji pouring into the classroom with the lighter held over his head like it’s the Olympic flame. “I g-got th-the—” He tries to breathe, ending up only saying, “Fire. Wish. What. Miss?”

“Yuji!” Satoru makes you follow him to the door. “You’re right on time! And no, you didn’t miss anything. Just stories of the past.”

“Stories?” Yuji wipes the sweat off his forehead. Still very much exasperated. “But I…like stories.”

“I know you do.” Satoru’s eyes settle on yours, the clamor in his eyes hushing for the first time in years. “But birthday wishes are meant for a future that’s yet to be written.”

“Thank you!”

Appreciation falls from your lips as a long-drawn yawn, every second you spend huddled under the kotatsu’s warmth begging to lull you to sleep. Today was a long day. So long, it feels as if it spanned an entire lifetime.

Satoru plops down beside you, the neckline of his sweatshirt diving low over his collarbones as he chugs his share of hot cocoa. Yours remains untouched while you switch between the same two movie options, incapable of picking one over the other.

“What do you have for me?” He asks, running his fingers over the ceramic rim. A melodic string instrument-like sound is induced.

“Okay so. Got the cult classic Sixteen Candles, which we’ve probably watched more times than Molly Ringwald had to practice her lines for the role, and I also have La Boum, in case you’re feeling more adventurous, and I don’t know. Frenchy, maybe.”

“Hmm, I mean. When you phrase it like that…”He acts as if he’s seriously contemplating his choice, only to snatch the remote from your hand and choose La Boum. He smiles slyly, curling near your chest. “It’s what you obviously wanted to watch. And I always choose, so.”

“Forfeiting your birthday boy rights?” You hum, tenderly combing through his freshly washed white strands. He smells just like his cake, you think. “Be careful. There are still nine minutes left before your birthday’s over, and you’re robbed of your rights for an entire year. Think you can make it?”

“Will you be with me during those horrid days?” His voice turns muffled.

“Always. Now, before the movie starts and you ruin the fun with your excessive blabbing, how about you reach under the kotatsu for your gift?” You suggest, chuckling as his head lifts up, cerulean eyes shining with unfeigned surprise.

“Angel! You shouldn’t have!” Satoru beams whole as he drags the heavy box out, shaking it in an attempt to feel out its contents.

“You know that doesn’t work with me. C’mon. I’ll pause for you.”

He wastes no time to untie the light silver bow that ties the box together, taking, however, his sweet time to review each and every object placed within. Carefully, he lays everything out on the table, small gasps evading him at a constant and maturing into a full-on shriek as he spots that one rare Digimon trading card you bust your gut trying to purchase via private online auctions.

“I—um. I know it doesn’t sound too good ‘cause I’m your girlfriend and I’m supposed to know everything about you and what you want, but I really had no idea what to get for your birthday. So I decided to get you a bit of everything from your favorite things. You can blame me for weaponizing nostalgia later.”

You clear your throat with a quick sip of cocoa. Licking your lips, “Anyway. It’s really no biggie as you can see. I just bought off some trading cards, ported a few of your old favorite games to a current generation console—yes, Street Fighter included—and made you this silly beaded charm with our initials for your phone, since they are back in fashion.

“I know it’s not much, and you could buy those things at any given time, but—time is something you cannot buy, right? Your childhood, your youth. The so-called best years of your life. I wanted you to have that back, even if just for a day.”

It’s been minutes, and Satoru remains quizzically silent, to the point where the array of kisses aimed at your neck comes as a true ambush. You’re knocked to the floor, giggling and flailing while he shows you his affection in every way possible, kissing you, praising you, hugging you—loving you.

“H-Happy Birthday, Toru.” You repel his face enough to say. “Y-you know, a thank you would be nice to hear!”

“As if you don’t know what I’m about to say.” Satoru grins, holding your palms to his mouth. Kissing them one by one, repeatedly, and slowly. Multiple times each. “You are my childhood. And my youth. And the best years of my life—they are all you. Everything we’ve been through, and everything we’ll live together.”

“How’s that for a thank you?” He chuckles, quickly breaking the tension with a final kiss on your nose. Perhaps the only part of you that’s not tinged red. “That being said…”

“You want to go for a quickie?” You sniffle against your will.

“See? You do know everything about me.” He reaches for the deck of cards with the swirly brown backside. “It’s time to duel!”

A/N: sorry for hastily written ending. had no time, oopsie!

#gojo x reader #gojo birthday #gojo fluff #gojo angst #gojo satoru #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jujustu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #satoru <3 #jjk gojo #jjk fanfic #satoru x reader

[introspectivememories]

what's wrong with data analyst bernard?

summary: tim's a workaholic ceo. bernard is, to put it simply, a down-on-his-luck loser with a kid to take care of. somewhere along the line, they meet. (very loosely based on the 2018 hit kdrama, "what's wrong with secretary kim?")

A/N: for @chamiryokuroi bc this fanart has given me brainrot since the moment i saw it. but also bc, i missed writing and your art helped. i hope you like it. (more notes at the end.)

Today is a good day, Bernard thinks happily, brand new ID badge bouncing on his tie. It's his first day at Wayne Ent. and Mori had sent him off with a hug and muttered, "have a good day, Tou-san." It's been bouncing around in his head all day. Tou-san, Tou-san, Tou-san, he's really a dad now. He's got to make sure Mori has everything he needs and this new job is going to make sure he can do that.

Shaking his head once to clear it, he takes a sip of the complimentary coffee a team member bought him for his first day. His team leader, Young-joon Lee, is taking him on a tour of the building. Young-joon is a wonderful man in his late 30s but it's very clear that he's been consumed by the office lifestyle.

"...and here is our magnificent lobby!" Young-joon is saying as he tunes back in. His team leader spreads his arms wide out as he speaks, "Everyone knows the lobby but it's my personal philosophy that making friends or at least being on amicable terms with the ground floor staff will make your life easier."

Bernard laughs politely, "I know what you mean. I can't tell you how many times being nice to the host at the restaurant I used to work at saved my butt during rush hour."

"A man after my own heart!" Young-joon says, smiling widely as he leads him to the help desk.

Bernard tilts his head up to look at the skylight. It's a gorgeous thing with little animal motifs running alongside it. It lights up the lobby bringing a welcoming feeling into it. With the sunlight pouring into the room, along with the din of busy workers in slacks running to and fro, it really feels like stepping into a movie.

Are you seeing me Darls?, he thinks with a childlike glee, hand coming up to thumb at his badge again, I made it!

"This, my friend," Young-joon says, pulling up to the help-desk, "is our wonder-duo. Tamara and Abhishek. They practically run this building. Lord knows we'd be tripping all over ourselves without them."

Tamara and Abhishek smile as they get introduced.

"They run this building?" he asks confusedly.

"You see, young padawan," Abhishek says, "not only do we help the people that come in here asking questions or for instructions, we also answer any questions the staff has for us."

"Things like, 'What's HR’s number?' or 'Can you page Data for me?' or 'No seriously, I'm calling HR on this man right now. What is their number?'" Tamara says grinning.

Bernard laughs. It feels like that's all he's been doing since he got here. "You have to tell me the story on that one day."

"Sorry," Tamara says, faux-apologetic, "the minimum clearance on that story is half-a-year. Gotta level up."

His cheeks hurt from smiling. This is his and Mori's new beginning. This is where they level up. Nothing's gonna stop him now.

"Do you know the story behind that one?" he asks, turning to Young-joon.

"Of course! But where would be the fun in telling you? You have to stay the six months and if luck comes my way, longer."

"You want me for longer?"

"Of course, I saw the way you worked during those practice problems in the interview. I had to fight the other team leaders for you. It was brutal."

"Get back I say!" Young-joon says, miming a sword fight. A pleased warmth builds in his chest; they wanted him, they wanted him!

Darls you better be fucking watching this. I'm movin' up in the world.

"Ooh, send me that footage. I wanna see our newest recruits skills," Abhishek says.

"You got the data team fighting over you?" Tamara asks, eyebrows raised, "I wanna see it—"

Whatever she was going to say is cut off by the sound of both of their pagers pinging. Immediately going stock still, they start typing on their computers.

Bernard turns to Young-joon confused but his team leader looks like nothing is out of the ordinary.

"The boss is coming." Young-joon says, like that's a reasonable explanation for two people shutting down in the middle of the conversation, "It's always quite a spectacle and they always have to notify the other execs. Just watch."

Still, the boss? Maybe Bruce Wayne will say 'hi' to him and he'll charm the CEO and Mr. Wayne can figure out a way to—

No, no. He's done making those kinds of fantasies. Nobody is coming to help. Bernard is going to figure out his life on his own, he is going to take such good care of his kid, and he is not going to wait for some rich billionaire to swoop in and take care of him. He got this far didn't he? He'll get even farther.

He and his team leader lean against the help desk sipping coffee as they wait for the CEO to come in and sure enough, a black Rolls Royce pulls up to the driveway in the front. The minute the door opens, flashes from the paparazzi's cameras start going off. Out steps a bodyguard in a black suit with an umbrella opened. From below the umbrella he sees a nice pair of brown loafers step out. The CEO seems to be wearing a navy blue suit today. The paparazzi roars and the flashes increase.

"Oh wow," a man remarks a few feet away from him, "the circus is strong today, huh?" His friend laughs.

A woman wearing red heels steps out after the CEO, the paparazzi flashes decrease dramatically. More bodyguards exit after the woman and form a square around the CEO and his assistant/secretary. They shuffle towards the entrance where he sees the elderly doormen greet the executives with a smile. Whatever they say is lost to the sound of the city but the doormen laugh and push the doors open.

Young-joon's been making small talk throughout the entrance and Bernard tries to keep up but whatever the hell is going on at the entrance is way more interesting than anything his team leader is talking about. As they enter the guards spread out and dissolve the square. The woman comes into view first, red heels with a black slacks and a white button down. She's holding a long coat in one hand and a laptop bag slung over her shoulder. She's gorgeous and clearly the one in charge, going by the way she barks orders at the guards.

Young-joon says something and he turns around to respond, grabbing his coffee cup off the desk counter. His CEO's loafers tap across the lobby's marble floor, something about it is comforting. A lull in the room's conversations causes the CEO's voice to carry over.

"...Tam, make sure the quarterly reports are on my desk by at least 4 today and make sure to push back the sales meeting by 30 minutes to an hour, the board wants to talk — Oh Mr. Bardakcı! Thank you for stay—..."

Bernard's heart jackrabbits in his chest. He knows that voice but- it can't be. It's not possible; he chose Wayne Enterprises for a reason. He's not supposed to be here. He's supposed to be at his father's company. Unless... there was a merger? No, that seems like the kind of thing the news wouldn't've shut up about. He would've known.

When was the last time you had time to sit down and read the news, Bear? Darls says inside his head

She's right. With filing for custody of Mori and graduating from college and the job search, he hasn't had time for much else. It's entirely possible that he could've missed one of the biggest mergers of the decade.

Fuck, Fuck.

He wasn't supposed to be here. Bernard was supposed to be moving on. He was supposed to be building a life for himself away from the shadows of his childhood. He was supposed to be forgetting that Tim Drake ever existed.

He has to make sure though. Turning his body around, he prays that it's not the man he thinks it is. But sure enough, there stands Tim Drake, resplendent in a navy blue suit and a golden tie.

Golden ties for golden boys, he thinks absentmindedly.

The suit fits him perfectly, stretching across his shoulders and wrapping around his waist. Even the tie looks knotted perfectly. How long did it take him to learn, Bernard wonders. He could never get it right back in high school. Does his assistant Tam do it- no, no! This is why he didn't apply to Drake Industries. Bernard can't do anything around Tim and Tim is never going to care enough about him to stay.

Tim's head seems to be turning in his direction and Bernard whips his head back to make sure Tim doesn’t even catch a glimpse of him. His hand twitches violently enough that the coffee cup falls out of his hand and spills all over the floor. The cup rattles deafeningly on the floor. Bernard can't fucking breathe.

"-ernard? Bernard!" his team leader's voice cuts through the haze in his head. Young-joon looks concerned, "Are you okay?"

He blinks slowly, "...What?"

"I said, 'Are you okay?’ You look like you've seen a ghost?"

No, Bernard thinks, seeing Darls would be preferable to whatever level of hell I've found myself in.

"I'm—, I'm fine." he says rather unconvincingly. His eyes dart back to the spill, "What am I saying? There's a large puddle of coffee on the floor. I—, I should get some paper towels for that."

"Do you have any paper towels, Wonder-Duo?" he asks, trying desperately to ignore Tamara and Abhishek's concerned looks.

"I already called the custodial staff," Tamara says slowly, like she’s trying not to spook him, "but if it makes you feel any better," she pulls out a huge stack of paper towels, "go crazy, I guess."

Bernard takes a handful of paper towels and gets to work. The cleaning is meditative and with each swipe of the paper towel, the puddle gets smaller. Bernard pretends the puddle is his feelings for Tim. Swipe, forget about the 4pm milkshakes and his laughter when Darls snorted milk out of her nose. Swipe, don't think about the way he used to smell. Swipe, he left and never looked back; you don't look back either.

The tap, tap, tap of loafer on marble is getting closer to them for some reason. Why is it getting closer? Does it not have staff meetings, market research, and people to leave behind?

"What is going on here?" Tim asks.

"Nothing much, sir." Abhishek responds, "Newbie just spilled some coffee."

Abhishek, no!

"Oh is that all? And he took the initiative to start cleaning instead of waiting for the custodial staff. You made a good choice, Young-joon."

"Thank you, sir!" Young-joon says, "I was taking him on the tour when you came in. Most newbies love the show so I thought we'd stop here for a little bit."

Tim laughs. Bernard hates that his heart still skips a beat at the sound.

A pair of brown loafers and a wool-covered knee slowly appear in his vision. Why is Tim crouching in front of him? Why won't this man leave him alone?

"This looks like quite a lot of work, let me help."

You can help by leaving me the hell alone, he thinks uncharitably.

"I hope you found the facilities to your liking," Tim continues, like he hadn't heard Bernard's thoughts, "My name is Tim Drake-Wayne, CEO."

I know, he wants to say. I know you're Tim Drake. I know you like to skateboard and that you stared at Tony Hawk's photo for an hour every day in high school ‘cause didn't want to be one of those people who didn't recognize him. I know you struggled with your dad not really being there. I know you loved Mrs. Winters as much as you loved your mom. I know that you like history more than any other subject even though your best was always math.

Bernard says nothing instead.

Tim laughs awkwardly and Bernard knows he isn't helping the conversation along but whatever, he's allowed to be petty, right?

"I assure you, whatever you heard in the tabloids and the news, isn't true. I promise I won't bite…," Tim’s voice trails off as Bernard lifts his head.

"...Bernard?" Tim whispers, he looks like he's seen a ghost.

Bernard tries for a smile, he's pretty sure it comes out looking like a grimace.

"Sir," he says nodding curtly, hands still moving to sweep up the coffee puddle.

Tim's hand reaches out to touch his face, as if to make sure Bernard is really there. Bernard recoils as Tim's hand grazes his cheek. Tim's hand hangs in the air uselessly.

"Bernard?" Tim says again, as if to make sure his eyes aren't playing tricks on him.

"That's my name, Sir," he says through clenched teeth, "don't wear it out."

He can feel Young-joon and the Wonder-Duo's confused stare but he says nothing. What would he even say, really?

Hey, this is my old friend Tim Drake? Hey, I used to know him like the back of my hand? Hey, our best friend died and it feels like I'm the only one still grieving? Hey, in my junior year, five different gangs shot up my school and my best friend died in my arms and he left and I had to pick up the pieces by myself? Hey, I'm the idiot that's still in love with Tim Drake?

The clack of Tam's heels comes as a welcome distraction.

"Tim!" she says, grabbing his arm and pulling him away, "What the hell do you think you're doing? We have to go talk to the board. Build rapport with your employees later."

Tim stumbles to his feet, "Yes, but—, I—, This is—"

He sounds like he's glitching. Bastard. Is it really such a surprise to see Bernard in a well paying job? Even Tam is starting to look a little concerned now.

"Explain later," she commands, dragging Tim behind her. Bernard keeps his head down and continues wiping up the coffee puddle. Sneaking a glance upward shows him that Tim keeps turning back around to stare at him.

For a moment their eyes meet, brown against blue. 'Bernard?' he sees Tim mouth. Bastard, saying his name so many times. Doesn't he know what that does to Bernard? Why does Tim insist on breaking his heart again and again and again? Was once not enough?

He's tired of putting these walls up and just for a second, he lets them come down. Let Tim see the entirety of his brokenness. Tim already has his heart, he can have this too.

'Tim' he mouths back, smiling sadly. Tim looks stunned and the rage that had been simmering in his gut begins to boil over.

Do you see what I've become? Do you see how thoroughly Grieves ruined me? Is this not your doing too? Why did you leave? Have you ever visited Darla? Why was it so easy for you to not look back? Was I not your friend? Or was it just a time pass? Why wasn't I enough for you to stay?

He watches until the elevator doors close, separating him from Tim once again. His body sags like a marionette cut from its strings and his fingers clench uselessly around the coffee soaked paper towels. A hand lands on his shoulder and he flinches.

"Hey, hey," Young-joon soothes from where he's crouched right next to him. When did Young-joon crouch down? How much time has he missed? "It's just me, Bernard. Are you okay? What was that? Does our CEO know you?"

He exhales shakily. He needs to get out of here. He needs to sob hard enough he throws up. He needs the steady press of a knife on his back. He needs things he's not allowed to have anymore.

Bernard shoots up so fast the world spins around him. holding onto the desk for support, he tries to smile at his team leader. It stretches across his face misshapenly.

"I'm—, I'm sorry," he says stumbling over his words in a rush to get them out, "I have to—"

He has to what? Pretend to not see Darls out of the corner of his eye? Pretend like his hands don't have blood on them? Pretend like he isn't seeing bullet wounds every time he closes his eyes?

"—go to the bathroom," he finishes lamely. Gathering up all of the paper towels, he walks away dazedly, ignoring Young-joon's calls behind him. He shoves the towels in the nearest trashcan, letting his feet lead him to the nearest bathroom.

The bathroom is thankfully empty when he enters and he locks the door behind him. Sliding down the door, he exhales shakily. There's not enough air in this room; he can't breathe. The fluorescent lights hum above their coverings. The one on the left flickers. Who's bright idea was it to install school lights in a business office's bathroom?

The world outside the bathroom rushes on too loudly. Somebody is talking about their vacation. Someone is bemoaning their presentation today. His chest is getting tighter. His hands come up to tug on his hair. Why can't he breathe?

The exhales are coming quicker and quicker. Something comes tapping down the hallway. It's the gunmen, it has to be. A quick glance down tells him all he needs to know: he's covered in blood.

It's Lila's, he thinks dazedly, I had to carry her into the office. Or no, it's Olu's. I held him when he died. He said, he said, what did he say?

Why can't he remember? He hits his head with the heel of his palm.

Think he tells himself, we have to tell Olu's parents what he said. He said—, he said—.

His body sags.

Oh now he remembers. He said, "I don't wanna die Bernard."

A whimper tears itself out of his throat and he slaps a palm over his mouth. There's blood smeared across his face now, he must look like he walked out of a slasher film. He has to be quiet. if he's too loud, the gunmen will find them and then they'll all be dead.

Cry quietly, he tells himself, Darls doesn't need—

Darla! How could he forget about Darla with a hole in her gut? He needs to get to her. Lurching forward, he scrabbles across Mrs. Castillo's linoleum floor. He's smearing Olu's blood everywhere. Why won't Nikhil stop fucking crying so loudly? Goddamn freshmen and their hysterics. Where is Tim? Is he safe? He can't lose both friends today, please Lord, please.

BANG!

A violent flinch tears through his body. He sobs audibly this time, gagging on his spit. It's the gunmen, it has to be. He hasn't even held Darls' hand or counted Tim's moles for the last time. Where are the Darls? She shouldn't be alone. She doesn't like violence like this.

"Why didn't you save me, Bear?" a voice asks from behind him.

He freezes. Slowly he turns around and nearly yells in shock. Falling back on his butt, he stares up at his friend.

(He has to be quiet, he has to be quiet, he has to be quiet-)

Darls is standing behind him still in her crop top and cargo pants. Her once smooth midsection, bloodied and warped. The bullet wound still drips blood.

Plink, plink, plink.

Bernard hates the scent of iron.

"Why didn't you save me, Bear?" she asks, her voice echoing, "I thought we were friends."

There’s blood dripping down the side of her mouth. Now he remembers, the blood on him isn’t Olu’s or Lila’s — although there is that too — it’s almost overwhelmingly Darla’s. He’s covered in it. Elbows deep in it. It streaks up his arms like a macabre tattoo. He wore a white shirt to school today. The stains will never come out. He is Carrie at the end of prom, mortified and humiliated.

He crawls backwards until his back hits the wall, the impact knocking him out of the worst of that night. He's back in the bathroom. The lights hum loudly overhead. Darla hasn’t left yet.

She tilts her head, “Why didn’t you help me, Bear? I thought we were friends.”

“We are,” he rasps out, “we are friends.”

“Are we?” her eyes have no pupils. His Darls had eyes that shone in the sunlight. His Darls is dead. “Then why am I still bleeding? Why am I still hurting? Why is there a bullet in my stomach, Bear?!”

She’s shouting by the end and he flinches. His hands can’t seem to stop tugging at his hair. The blood must’ve smeared all over it. Talk about taking strawberry blond literally.

“I swear I did everything I could Darls,” he sobs out quietly, voice cracking, “I followed all of Mrs. Castillo’s instructions as best I could. I put pressure and tied the dressing as tight as I could.”

“You thought that was enough?” she snarls, hands coming down to grip the wound. It twists grotesquely; he gags, “You think any of that matters when I’m dead and you’re still alive?”

“Please, please. You know I wouldn’t leave you to die, Darls. Please, please, please believe me.”

“Liar, liar!” she screams, blood dripping out of her mouth onto her pink LOVE shirt. It darkens as each drop hits it. Soon it’ll be completely drenched and she’ll be drowning in it. Where did his smiling friend go? “I’m dead, Bear! I’m dead, dead, dead and it’s all your fault! Why didn’t you save me?! Why didn’t you save me?!”

He keens, body curling in on itself. One hand goes down to press on his throat; he’s making too much noise. Nikhil’s just a freshman. He shouldn’t have to die just because Bernard couldn’t shut up for once in his life.

“Please,” he whispers raggedly, “I tried, I tried. I swear I tried, Darls.”

“It hurts, Bear,” she sobs. Darla’s too young to be sounding so wrecked, “It hurts so much. Please help me.”

All of sudden, it’s too much. The taste of iron sits heavy on his tongue and Darla won’t stop sobbing. His fingers fumble for his phone and he presses one. It rings once, twice and finally on the third ring does a voice answer.

“Bear?” the other side says groggily.

“Ty please, I can't do this anymore,“ he sobs.

Tyrone suddenly sounds a lot more alert, “Bear what’s going on?”

“Darla won’t stop crying and she keeps on screaming that it’s my fault she died.” he wails, “I know I should’ve done more but please, can you tell her I tried? That I stayed with her until the end? She won’t listen to me, Ty. She won’t listen to me.”

There’s a muffled yell of ‘Babe!” on the other end. “Yeah,” Ty breathes out, “I’ll tell her.”

“You put me on speaker, okay?” Ty instructs, “And you gotta tell me if she’s nodding or if she’s gone or if she said anything, alright? I can’t see her.”

“Okay,” he whispers, pulling the phone away from his ear to press the speaker button.

“You tell me when to start, Bear,” he says, voice filling the bathroom. Darla looks up from where she’s sobbing.

“You can start now Ty,” he rasps out, holding the phone out.

“Hey Darla,” Ty says, “Bear told me you said a lotta mean things about him. Stuff like, ‘he’s the reason you died’ and that ‘he never cared’. Darla, you gotta believe me when I say Bear never stopped caring. He held your hand the whole way through. Told you stories about all the things you two were gonna do once you got out of that nurse’s office. He tried, Darla, honest. I’ve never seen him as focused as when you stopped breathing and Mrs. Castillo had him give you CPR. He couldn’t stop sobbing the whole time.”

“But I’m still dead,” she says.

“But I’m still dead,” he repeats.

Ty inhales sharply, “Yeah,” he says thickly, “you are. And I’ll never stop being sorry about that. But you can’t take that out on Bear. He’s just trying to live his life.”

Darls’ face twists up like a childs, “But it hurts,” she cries.

“But—, but it hurts,” he repeats, voice hitching.

Ty curses, “Oh, fuck. I can’t do this. Babe, can you—?”

“Yeah, of course.” 

“Hey, Darla. It’s me, Jimmy from the football team. I don’t know if you remember me but I remember you. After high school, me and Tyrone ended up getting married. Somewhere between shitty weed brownies and bad college parties, we fell in love. Isn’t that nice?”

Darls nods; he tells them as such.

“We visited you after the ceremony. I hope you felt that wherever you are these days. But the point I’m trying to make is that from all I’ve told you just now, you can probably figure out that Ty and I didn’t go pro like we planned. The shooting fucked up Ty’s knee and and my arm. After the hospital stays, playing football for a whole bunch of people just didn’t sound appealing anymore. We’re high school teachers now. Ty teaches math and I teach gym. When it rains or gets cold, my arm and Ty’s knee hurts like hell. But Darla, it doesn't hurt forever. It gets better, I promise.”

“Darla,” Jimmy says, voice unusually serious, “you’re right, you are dead and it does hurt. I’m sorry, I’ll never stop being sorry. I don’t know if it’ll ever go away for you; I’m not too much of an expert on the supernatural. Ty’s the smart one, after all. But I love you, Ty loves you, Bear loves you. I hope that when it hurts the most you can use that as a balm.”

“Auntie Bea loves you too!” Ty’s mom hollers from the background, “Aunt Betty, too!”

Ty laughs wetly and Jimmy snorts, “Does that sound okay?” they ask.

Darls smiles, her teeth stained red from all the blood that built up in her mouth. Bernard misses her with an ache he feels in his bones. Darls nods.

“She nodded,” he says quietly. He blinks once and she’s gone. Where did she go? Doesn’t she know that the gunmen are still at large? She needs to be somewhere safe. He can’t lose a friend today.

“Bear, Bear, you gotta breathe. Take a deep breath for me, c’mon,” Jimmy says.

“She’s gone, Jim. She’s gone again. Why does she keep leaving?” he says, crying. His body can’t stop trembling. How long has he been here? How much time has he missed?

“I miss the cult,” he whispers, “I never had things like this happen when I was with them.”

“Yeah,” Ty snaps, “‘Cause you were high off of like 50 different pain meds ‘cause you let them whip you.”

“Ty, not helping.”

“Move over, let me talk to him."

"Hey, sweetheart," Auntie Bea's voice crackles through his tiny speaker, "I know you're tired and I know you're hurting. I know you miss the cult but you gotta breathe for me, okay? You're gonna pass out otherwise."

"I can't, I can't," he gasps out. 

"Sure you can, you just gotta tell me five things you can see. Can you list those five things for me?"

Bernard desperately tries to get his breathing under control, "The sink is dirty."

"Good, good. Anything else?" 

"The tiles need to be re-grouted."

Aunt Betty barks out a laugh. Bernard's lips twitch upward.

"Keep going."

"My pants, my white shirt, my ID badge," he rattles off.

They talk him through the rest of the grounding techniques and by the time he feels like he's in control again, he's exhausted. His eyes hurt and his throat is dry. 

"Can you tell us why you spiraled so hard, Bear? This hasn't happened in a long time," Jimmy asks.

"I spoke to Tim again," he says simply. He pushes himself up onto his feet and walks over to the sink. Setting the phone down on the counter, he grips the sink with both hands and just breathes. The Bernard in the mirror looks like he just came out of a warzone, eyes haunted, hair messed up. 

"Oh fuck," Ty says, "Where did you even meet him?"

"At my new job at Wayne Ent."

"Why would you apply there?" Jimmy asks, stressed.

"I didn't know! It's not like I've had a lotta time in the past few years to check the news!"

"Well, whatever, what’s done is done." Ty says, ever practical, "Are you going to quit?"

"No!” he says vehemently.

“No,” he repeats quieter, “Wayne has the best benefits and Mori needs that. I’ll just suck it up and try to avoid him.”

“Don’t be fucking stupid,” Aunt Betty says.

“Ma!”

“Oh be quiet Jimmy. I’ve never heard of a more stupider thing. He’s your CEO, Bear, and he knows you work there. He’s obviously going to want ‘to catch up’ or whatever. There is no avoiding him. Can you handle that?”

What can he say? Aunt Betty is right. He can’t handle talking to Tim. Even seeing Tim felt like touching a live wire. He can’t deal with another episode. Mori doesn’t need him to be fucked up, Mori needs him to be the stable adult he promised the courts he was. 

“You can’t, sweetheart,” she says softly, “you can’t handle it.”

There’s some shuffling on the other end of the phone. 

“Bear,” Ty says gently, “I love you, man. You’re my brother. Jimmy loves you, Mama loves you, Aunt Betty loves you. But you gotta start thinking about therapy.”

“I know, I know,” he sighs, “I shouldn’t’ve dragged you into this. I’m—”

Ty cuts him off with an exasperated huff, “It’s not about that Bear. I’ll keep talking to your hallucinations for as long as you need me too. Even when we’re seventy, I’ll do it for you. I don’t care about that. I care about you and I want you to be happy and healthy. I don’t want you to keep seeing Darla. I don’t want you to keep trying to scrub the blood off your hands. 

“And I know you’ve been avoiding therapy ‘cause you don’t got the money and ‘cause talking about your problems is scary but it’s not just you anymore. You got Mori now. That custody claim is going through. You can’t just avoid things ‘cause they’re hard now. You work at Wayne now; that paycheck is more than enough to set a few dollars aside each month to save up for therapy. Hell, mental health probably comes with your medical benefits. Please, Bear. If you can’t get help for you, then do it for us, for Mori. Please stop making us watch you hurt.”

Bernard exhales shakily.

“I never wanna find you the way we did after the cult, Bear. I never wanna see you in the hospital bed like that again. Please don’t do that to us, please,” Ty whispers.

Unconsciously, his hand comes up to rub at the scar left behind from the sacrifice. It stretches along the length of his sternum, jagged and rough. On good days, he can pretend that it’s a scar from a heart surgery. He doesn’t have that many good days.

Bernard presses the heel of his palms into his eyes before using his hands to scrub at his face. He’s always so tired these days.

“Okay,” he says simply, “okay.”

“Okay?” Ty asks hopefully.

“Okay, you’re right. It’s not just me anymore. Mori deserves the best and I’m gonna give it to him. And I love Tim, I think I’ll always love Tim but he clearly doesn’t give a shit about me. So I gotta make my peace with it or I’ll go crazy.”

Ty whoops, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” he chants.

“Bear, it’s still the middle of the workday,” Jimmy says, although he too, sounds happy. Auntie Bea and Betty are muttering about a feast, he thinks. “Don’t you have to get back to work?”

“Yeah, that’s if I’m not fired already,” he mutters.

“Hey!” Jimmy admonishes, “Optimism only, no pessimism.”

“Alright, alright. I gotta get back to work now. Thanks guys.”

“Of course, we’ll let you go now. Ma wants me to tell you that we’re having dinner at your place today.”

“Aunt Betty,” he whines, “I haven’t cleaned and you and Auntie Bea are just looking for a reason to spoil Mori.”

“Absolutely,” they say, unashamed, “he’s our only grandson. We have to spoil him.”

“Fine,” he sighs but he’s smiling. Fuck, he loves these people. God knows he wouldn’t have survived the past six years without them.

“Bye Bear,” they say before he hangs up, “Good luck on your first day!”

He cuts the phone and slides it back into his pocket. Turning on the tap, he splashes some cold water onto his face. Using his wet hands, he tries to rearrange his mussed up hair into something acceptable for an office job.

Time to face the music Darls, he tells her smiling face in the mirror. She gives him a thumbs up in return.

The walk back to his office feels like a death sentence. He’s fucked this up, he knows it. Freaking out over a small interaction with his CEO and then running away only to come back two hours later? It’s over, done for. Bernard takes comfort in the fact that at least the severance package will be nice.

Stepping into the office, immediately draws the eyes of his team members. Every step towards his team leader’s office feels nerve-wracking. Just before he enters, Esperanza, the team’s second in command, stops him.

“Whatever happened,” she says, “just explain it to him. Young-joon’s a reasonable man, he’s not gonna yell at you.”

Some of the tension leaves him and he nods. Knocking on the door, he enters. His team leader looks up and smiles.

“Ah, Bernard! Why don’t you take a seat for me?”

He crosses his wrists behind his back, “I’d rather stand, sir.”

His team leader looks confused, “‘Sir’? Just call me Young-joon like I told you.”

“Anyway, after you left, I took the liberty of going through your file to see if there was anything I missed. I hope that wasn’t overstepping my boundaries.”

“No s-, Young-joon. You’re fine.”

Young-joon sighs and pushes the file he was reading before Bernard came in forward. It’s his file. 

“I’m going to say some statements,” he says, “and I want you to confirm whether it’s true or not. If any of these questions make you uncomfortable, just tell me okay? I’ll drop it immediately.”

Bernard nods.

“You went to Louis E. Grieves Memorial High School.”

“Yes.”

“Based on the dates you put in your file, you were there for the shooting.”

“...Yes. Junior year.”

“You know our CEO.”

“Yes,” he breathes out.

“How?”

He used to fall asleep on my shoulder during lunch and I would listen to him breathe. He’s got moles all over his face. Darls once connected them with a sharpie. His step-mom was so hot, I thought I’d spontaneously combust every time she smiled. HIs dad didn’t really like me and flirting with his wife didn’t help my case. The Drake condo had a crocheted flower blanket on the sofa that his mom had made during her pregnancy. He liked to skateboard but couldn’t roller-blade to save his life. I have all this love and nowhere to put it.

“It’s a little private,” he says instead.

“I’m only asking because we work quite closely with him. We see him often and if that makes you uncomfortable, then I can have you transferred to another team.”

His shoulders sag, “We went to Grieves together for one year. Our mutual friend died. It’s a little hard to look at him.”

“Jesus Christ.” Young-joon says, “Okay well the offer is still on the table, Bernard. Do you want to be transferred?”

“No, I like your team. I’d like to stay,” he says, firmly.

“Are you sure?” Youn-joon asks, eyebrows raised.

“Yes.”

“Okay then,” and it’s like a switch had flipped. Gone is his serious team leader and in its place is the man he met this morning.

“If you plan on staying,” he says smiling, “then my primary recommendation is that you use the medical benefits the company gives you to find a therapist. If you need help, the infirmary here will walk you through it.” 

Oh thank god it comes included with his medical, Ty will be overjoyed to hear that. But first, he has to ask Young-joon why he’s doing all this. Bernard knows his experience with authority figures is a little skewed towards the shitty side of the spectrum but even so, people usually aren’t so kind in his experience.

“Why are you doing this? Why didn’t you fire me? Why are you helping me?”

Young-joon chuckles, “Do you want to be fired?”

“No! But still, why are you helping me?”

Young-joon sighs and stands up. Walking around his desk, he stops right in front of Bernard. Young-joon puts a hand on his shoulder.

“This city takes a lot out of its people, believe me I know. And you were so young, when Gotham took her piece of you. It wasn’t fair of you to go through that. Just like it wasn’t fair to me and my wife when we got kidnapped as children. These kinds of things don’t go away. I still get worked up over zip-ties. My wife still has nightmares. All you can do is learn to live with it.

“You seem like a good kid with a good head on your shoulders. I’d hate to see all that potential go to waste ‘cause you kept getting trapped in your mind. I had a lot of help to get to where and who I am today. Consider this, me paying it forward. One day, I hope you can pay it forward too.”

His eyes feel suspiciously wet. “Thank you,” he chokes out, “thank you.”

Young-joon laughs, “There’s no need for the waterworks, Bernard. Now, pack up your things and go home. You’re in no state to analyze data today but I expect you here at 9AM sharp tomorrow, alright?”

Bernard mock salutes, “Yes, sir.”

“Goodbye, Bernard.”

Right before he exits, he turns around and calls out his team leader’s name.

“Young-joon,” Young-joon looks up confused, “you can call me Bear, by the way.”

A wide grin stretches across his team leader’s face, “Okay then. Goodbye Bear, see you tomorrow.”

Walking out of the office, it feels like a burden has been lifted off his shoulders. Esperanza takes one look at him and snorts.

“You just got Young-joon-ed, huh?”

His jaw drops, “He does that often enough you guys have a name for it?”

The other team members laugh, “Welcome to Data Analysis Team 1, kiddo. We look forward to working with you from now on.”

Smiling, he gathers his things and leaves after a few goodbyes. Once outside the building, the smile drops. It’s an hour-and-a-half bus ride from Wayne Tower to his house. The bus stop sits right in front of the tower too. Some new initiative by the mayor to promote the city moving towards green energy. Hey look, even rich people take the bus! What a fucking joke.

The tower warps the sunlight around it and he stares up at the top floor. Is Tim watching? Can Tim see him from up there? Does he care or was it just the shock of seeing someone he once knew this morning? Has Tim ever thought about him, about them? Or were they just moments in his life? Perpendicular lines, intersecting once and then never again.

I miss you, he thinks staring at the top floor, I miss you more than anything but I’ll walk into oncoming traffic before I ever reach for you again.

The bus pulls up next to him and he snags a seat in the back. Dropping his head onto the seat in front of him, he stares out the window. Darls smiles back at him in the window reflection, perpetually sixteen. He’s twenty-two now.

Fuckin’ hell Darls, he thinks wearily, we’re really in it now.

Darls places her hand against the glass, he leans his shoulder onto it. If he closes his eyes, he can almost feel her warmth.

We’ll make it through, she says.

The bus rumbles forward and he lets the cracked streets of Gotham lull him to sleep. He’ll make it through.

A/N: chami! i hope you like it!!! i've never gifted a fic before, i don't really know how this works. and to everyone who read it, i hope you liked it too! please leave your thoughts in the reblogs or replies!!! i miss the days when td:r was coming out and we were all collectively freaking out. anyway when i said loosely based, i really did mean loosely. props to you guys if you can figure out the direct references to the drama. but this is a one-shot. i'm not gonna be writing anything else for this 'verse? au? (god i'm always so worried im using em dashes wrong)

if you have questions or you're confused by something i wrote, feel free to ask questions or send an ask or message. oh, and i know some people like know the exact wordcount. so, it's exactly 6,785 words long. nice number right?

also, please note that if you want to make art or a podfic or hell, even fanfiction of this, feel free to do so! i hope that's not too presumptuous or anything. idk i see fanfic writers make this disclaimer all the time, so i thought i'd do it to.

thank you for reading!

#god i'm exhausted #writing the latter end of a fic always feels like finishing a marathon #no more fics for like the next 6 months (<- me when i lie) #anyway big fan of the bear hallucinates darla club! #currently there's only one member (me) but you can change that #also favorite trope ever is when you see a regular dude and you're like 'what a nice normal dude' and then you talk to him for like #5 minutes and you're like '/oh./ this dude has something wrong with him' #also the tyrone/jimmy pairing? do you see my vision? #also big fan of the the shooting was worse than what you see in rr club! #it's just there was a city-wide gang war and all the gangs came to grieves to kill darla and you're telling me only she died??? #i think way more people died. i think too many people died actually. i think the school had to do remote learning for all of tyrone's sr yr #cause the renovations were too much. #also just to clarify #the is hallucination!darla and there is the darls he sees all the time. no they are not the same to him. yes he is mentally ill. #also yes!! superheroes do exist in this world!!! i just didn't mention them. #also if we're being a little self-critical for a moment #(don't look at this part) i feel like i could've ended this at a way earlier point in the story but i had such a strong vision of what the #fic was supposed to be like that i just wrote everything #anyway lets start tagging #bernard dowd #tim drake #timbern #timber #dc #red robin tyrone #red robin jimmy

[seeminglydark]

Idk if this means anything to you but I'm a comic artist who's had a hard time doing art for a few years. The first four was because of life hardship and lack of time/chronic pain, but now lately I've had time but a mental block. I'm creeping up on 30 and felt bad about myself for "missing out" on my opportunity to be a comic artist. It was really validating to see you post about being 41 (correct me if I'm wrong) especially since you have such wonderful comics that I've been following for a while now. It makes me feel less like I'm wasting my time putting my things in order when I "should" be drawing.

Hopefully this doesn't come across as offensive or anything. It was just comforting and validating. Anyway, big fan! Love your characters a whole lot and hope you have a good day!

Dear Anon

I am 41 years old. I have wanted to make comics my entire life. before my dad got sick, and my childhood kinda fell apart, all i did was draw. after that, i used the stories in my head to cope. life moved on. i was convinced not to accept a partial scholarship to an art school in California. life got hard. i worked at a hotel, and after i escaped an abusive relationship at 22 i hitchhiked/bused far far away to start over. i tried to make comics again, but i had to survive, and so i got another job doing the only thing i knew how to do, hotels. and i worked. and worked. and life got harder and times got heavier and i didn't get time to draw and i worked double hours, 15 to 17 hours a day. and i went four years without drawing a single thing.

i kept working myself into the ground. i was 29 now. i picked up a pen again and drew a red haired boy. he had a hard life and no love and no friends. his problems were on the outside, for everyone to see. he ran away but his problems went with him.

i was 32. surely i was too old now. my time to be an artist was gone. i had no school. no hope. i was so far behind the younger gen i saw online. i cried. all the time. i wrote stories in my email drafts while i worked shifts. i stayed up late trying to learn how to draw again. i cried some more. the boy grew. i called him Fiach. worthy. a raven. later i renamed him Avery. he was like a bird, he had wings, he was my hope. i started writing some friends for him. the people i wished i had around me.

i started finding time and space. i got a new job, something where i was lucky enough to set my own hours. for the first time i had a partner who believed in me. things were hard. but i was drawing now. and that helped.

i went on a road trip and i started drawing pages of an unnamed story on 6 by 8 paper in a sketchbook. i drew 20 of them. 'what could i call this?' i thought. Nothing Seems as Dark...no says my partner. Seemingly Dark. he made me a logo. i was 35. i bought an ipad, i cant do this on paper, its too much story i have too much to say. so i learned how to draw digitally by tracing my own trad art pages.

I spoke to my dad for the last time on June 17th, fathers day that year. he said 'you're good. i'm proud. and you're gonna do amazing things. none of this is your fault. and we will speak again soon.' i didn't know id never hear his voice again. he died a week later.

i turned 36. i kept trying. i'm old, i don't understand the internet. how can i share this?

i stumbled across Lore Olympus. i was introduced to webcomics. id read comics online before but the thought never occurred to me. i opened an account on Tapas. and then i stared at it. what if no one likes it. what if its bad. my art isn't good. i should wait til i'm better. but will i ever really be better? or will i always believe that tomorrow is better? do it now. if even one person gets something out of this story, this story about a boy who is you, a boy who looking for hope, a boy who might make it, then that is enough isn't it.

June 17th 2018 i launched Seemingly Dark.

SD's five year anniversary is in a week. 0ver 700 pages. leaps and bounds in progress with my skills. a printed comic under my belt as of monday. i was always a storyteller. but i was always an artist too.

I am 41 years old, dear anon. I did not truly embark on this journey til i was 35. life got in the way. even now, chronic illness gets in the way. but its worth it. its never ever too late. i believe in you the way my dad believed in me. i reset my life again and again. but I was always an artist. and if thats who you are, and who you want to be, even if things dont go the way you wished they could, you're an artist too.

im 41 years old. i speak about my age, even though i often feel too old to belong in spaces, cuz really, in this case age is just a number. take care of yourself. do what you need to do. and little by little, when your able, carve out your space until it becomes more of a habit. sometimes i think about all the years i lost not drawing or creating. but there's a lot of factors that make me believe had i made my story then, it wouldn't be the story it is now, i needed to live a bit. i needed to find myself. i know this was long, but i just wanted you to see i also had to put my life in order, and getting notes like this reminds me it wasnt at all a waste. im glad i could offer you some comfort. thats honestly the best compliment i could ever receive.

TL;dR I was 35 when i sat down and seriously started making comics, because life always got in the way and so did my confidence. i always feared being too old. im 41 now, still going strong.

#rj rambles #this is really long im sorry anon #i think my late comic blooming story is kinda important for people to hear #thankyou for giving me a reason to tell it

[jgroffdaily]

Excerpts from the article (which appeared online as cast and crew were traveling to their first rehearsal today):

On a chilly day in early February, Jonathan Groff, Daniel Radcliffe, and Lindsay Mendez are huddled on a couch in a photo studio in Queens. Not three weeks after Merrily We Roll Along ended its off-Broadway run at the New York Theatre Workshop, gathering again for a photo shoot has made all of the actors cry. (An amused publicist thinks it was the sight of their old costumes, by Soutra Gilmour, that set everyone off.) “It’s just really settling in that we’re taking this to Broadway,” offers Mendez, a Tony winner for Jack O’Brien’s 2018 revival of Carousel. “It’s a big dream for us to get to shepherd this piece, which means so much to so many people, and yet has never gotten its proper due.”

“To hear the overture on Broadway…?” Groff adds. “I’m gonna die.”

In the Broadway production, which begins previews this September at the Hudson Theatre, Groff stars as Frank, ​in turns slickly handsome, roiled with conflict, and sparky as a golden retriever; Radcliffe as an endearingly neurotic Charley; and Mendez as Mary, whose wide smile conceals great depths of longing (namely, for Frank).

For Groff, doing Merrily felt fated. “I had just reached this point in my life where I was really looking back and reflecting on relationships that I suddenly realized were almost two decades old,” he explains. He later learned that Radcliffe and Mendez had done their own “first big New York shows” (revivals of Equus and Grease, respectively) at around the same time. This was no small thing, as they approached a story as concerned with the vicissitudes of a career in the performing arts as anything else.

“The people that start young and then stay in it well into adulthood tend to love it,” Radcliffe says. “They tend to be doing it because there is something in their bones that makes them want to do this. And I think we all have that.” Adds Mendez, “There’s an unspoken-ness between us. There’s a lot of trust, and a lot of teamwork.” (When I ask Friedman about her stars’ touching natural chemistry, she tells me that in Merrily, Sondheim has “written love songs. He’s written about losing love, wanting love, missing love, despair, all the things, but it’s all around love.” So, in the year that she spent building her New York cast, “I looked for loving people.”)

For all intents and purposes, the Broadway revival is the same show that ran at the New York Theatre Workshop. Not only do both productions share the same actors—including Katie Rose Clarke as Frank’s estranged first wife, Beth; Hamilton alumna Krystal Joy Brown as his glamorous second wife, Gussie; and Reg Rogers as Joe, the producer behind the first hit show that Frank and Charley write together—but the same creative and production team, too. “We had a big break between the New York Theatre Workshop and going to Broadway, and every single person has come with it. They all took other jobs in order to be able to do this job,” Friedman says. “It just cast a spell over us all.”

As they move into the Hudson—which Friedman selected for its intimate-feeling scale (of Broadway’s 41 active theaters, it’s one of only nine that seats under 1,000 people)—she is keen to protect that enchantment. “I am absolutely determined not to do anything different,” Friedman says. “The piece is the piece; it speaks for itself. And as long as we keep the integrity of that and the joy and the warmth and the love and the storytelling—it should sing.” This has more or less been her line from the beginning. “One of the things that Maria has said from day one is, ‘I have not changed a lyric of this show or a word of the script. I am doing this show as written,’ ” Groff says. “It’s not like she’s doing a take on Merrily. She really believes in the piece itself without adding any sort of flashy concept.”

Then as now, her deepest regret is that Sondheim is not alive to see the production, but she knows that he would have delighted in Merrily’s return to Broadway. Her only hope is that after all these years, audiences are ready to receive it. “It’s a profound piece,” Friedman says. “If it gets you, it stays with you and makes you ask questions. And if it doesn’t get you, it’s got some great tunes.”

PIANO MAN

Groff wears a Gucci jacket. Pants from The Row. Grooming, Amy Komorowski.

In this story: hair, Ilker Akyol; makeup, Francelle Daly for Love+Craft+Beauty. Produced by The Canvas Agency. Set Design: Viki Rutsch.

#jonathan groff #daniel radcliffe #lindsay mendez #merrily we roll along #vogue #merrily promo

[lurkinglurkerwholurks]

Mother Bruce and His Baby Birds

First posted: April 2, 2018

Focuses on: Bruce Wayne et al

Favorite bookmark: "if only dc wasn't a coward"

Second favorite bookmark: "yooo i felt god in this chili's tonight"

Tier: As of queue date, #6 in hits and kudos, #5 in comments, #7 in bookmarks and subscriptions

This is my "behind the scenes" series where I indulge myself horribly by annotating my fics.

I haven't figured out the best way to cover multi-chapter fics, especially behemoths like Nature and Nurture or The Return, so this is a test. I'll start with chapter one and reblog with additions for each chapter, I think. If there's a better way, please send suggestions.

Link to the fic itself above. Thoughts below the cut.

Chapter One

My very first fic ever. I got obsessed with reading fic for a few months (thanks to @audreycritter's Cor Et Cerebrum and @unpretty's Sorrowful and Immaculate Hearts, and finally needed a little bit of output to balance out the input. It wasn't really planned, which is why my name is what it is. I'd made the lurker account to do just that and nothing more. Which feels a little silly now, five years and almost 100 fics later. 😬

The title comes from the Ryan Higgins picture book, because titles are harrrrrrd.

I think this is my only fic with chapter names, other than The Return.

He knew how it felt--that teeth-rattling, rib-crushing, pulse-racing sensation--and he knew how to push through it.

You see? You see how new I was at this? I hadn't even looked up the em-dash shortcut yet.

"And I don’t care if Arthur Pennypacker says gelato contains the required daily serving of calcium. Alfred will not let you survive on gelato alone.”

I am going to try very hard to be proud of this, my little baby fic, and not critical, but it's going to be very difficult when I clearly had to pluck a name out of thin air and ended up with Arthur Pennypacker being discussed in the same scene where Alfred Pennyworth exists. Yeesh.

"Art’s the fathead that stole Eddie’s gym shorts and ran them up the Academy flagpole.”

I wrote a joke poem about this kind of scenario for school once and it got published as part of a contest. Reduce reuse recycle.

The grin was still there, a bright smile full of pleasantly crooked teeth that leaned into each other like birds in a winter wind, but the corner of Jason’s mouth twisted hesitantly.

If I were doing this again, I'd make Jason a little less golly gee mister in tone, but at least he's precious.

Jason had always been gifted at picking up the scent of unease. Dick, Bruce’s outgoing ward, could read emotions. Jason could read tells.

Now that's clever, if I do say so myself. Good job, Amateur Me.

Jason dropped his spoon back in the empty gelato cup and ran his fingers over the stitching of the baseball on the table.

I reference that ball later in another fic and for the life of me right now I can't remember which one. Ah well. Put a pin in this. You'll see it again.

I thought I was gonna miss it for sure! And then after, Raul Huezo right there in front’a me! Just like, pshew! Did’ja see Bruce?

Raul Huezo was a spoof on a real-life baseball player... and I no longer remember who. Pity.

For a moment, all was still. Bruce had stopped breathing entirely, and it felt like Jason had as well. Bruce gripped Jason tightly, struggling to keep the preteen from falling out of his precarious half-perch on Bruce’s lap and onto the floor. But Jason was clutching Bruce just as tightly, gangly arms wrapped around Bruce’s neck and face pressed into Bruce’s chest. Tentatively, Bruce lowered his face to Jason’s hair and breathed in the smell of shampoo, sweat, and ballfield.

dadhugdadhugdadhugdadhug

Hitting post on this very first chapter was terrifying but everyone was awfully nice. And it's so fun to look back and realize @cdelphiki was my very first commenter ever. Like hey! I know that name!

#fanfic bts brain dump

[0alanasworld0]

Dedication (Hakim Ziyech x reader) *request

Request: "Hakim Ziyech X wife!reader where everyone just loves them together and he dedicates his goal at the WC to her..."

Pt2 - Perseverance

Warnings: none

Hakim had no intentions of returning to the Moroccan national team. He loved his country and teammates with all his heart but couldn’t bear the risk of being so poorly treated as he once was. After everything he gave up the last time: his money, his time, his own wellbeing and all for Halilhodžić to treat him as a scapegoat for the losses. He never caught a break, not during the training in the build-up to the 2018 tournament nor during the world cup itself. It was hell and he had much less distressing means of making a living. 

He had to admit, there were moments where he felt drawn to return again. When he saw Zakaria score his first ever goal for Morocco during a friendly. When he saw little Ounahi come out of his shell and use the very tricks he had shown him. He could feel goosebumps on the comfort of his home couch when he saw the Moroccan crowd chant his name, hoping and praying for his return. Thousands of miles away, he could still feel it. And he would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t want to come back. 

You always made an effort to hide your phone whenever you checked in on those games. He would tell you he didn’t mind but you knew that his national team was a soft spot for him. It broke his heart to leave, albeit with very good reasons, and the last thing you wanted to do was remind him of what he was missing. However, you weren’t always successful in this regard. You were cuddling together as you scrolled through tiktok and this was something you couldn’t control. Hakim happened to be looking over your shoulder for that one tiktok. A short clip of the chanting, followed by the commentary of some annoying armchair analyst about the goings on. He bit his lip, looking down. 

“I’m so sorry, my love I-”

“No no, don’t apologise! I’m fine, I swear!” he reassures you, giving you a tight hug and kissing your cheek. He continues to sit for a few minutes before opting to get a glass of water. He stayed there for a second to gather his thoughts, mind wandering to his team again. How are they all? Are they taking breaks between sessions? Are they being treated well? Did they celebrate after yesterday’s win? His thoughts are all over the place but he pushes it all aside. It's a rare rest day and he intends on spending every minute of every hour with you in his arms.

The national team fiasco leaves his mind soon after returning to you as you watch some of your favourite videos together.

He’s sleeping soundly, an arm draped around your waist as his head lays in the crook of your neck. The peaceful moment is interrupted by his phone vibrating on the bedside table. You shift and groan in confusion and he kisses your neck, lulling you to sleep once more as he grabs his phone. Which idiot is calling him this late? What stupid situation has Mason got himself into this time?

He’s utterly baffled by the name displayed on the screen. They talk all the time but the timing is utterly bizarre.

“Yassine, my friend. You’re treading on very thin ice.” hakim grumbles, looking back over at you to make sure you’re still asleep.

“Well thank Allah that I'm thousands of miles away (!)” Hakim pinches the bridge of his nose, Yassine is undeniably a wonderful friend but this is unusual behaviour from him and Hakim doesn’t like it.

“Great conversation. I look forward to our next 3am rambling session, bye now-”

“Wait no hold on. Look, I overheard a little conversation the coach was having with the governing body…”

“The ice is cracking, Yassine.”

“Okay okay look, I think he’s about to be replaced. Yesterday’s match may have gone well but they seem to think he’s not the right person for the job in the long-term.”

“It took those geniuses long enough to figure that one out.”

“You’re telling me. You should have seen coach yell at Abde after the match for joining that chant.”

“I’m assuming you yelled back?”

“Naturally.”

“Taking after me then? At this rate, you’re all going to be kicked off.”

“With that amoeba in charge, we’ve all been considering it anyway. BUT if there’s a new coach…”

“You all stand a much better chance!”

“Yeah I was hoping the ‘you’ could change to a ‘we’”

“Yassine, I can’t”

“You said you loved this team and coach was standing in the way last time. You were right to leave and we all understand that completely. What's stopping you with a new coach? We all still adore you, y’know?”

“Look, we don’t even know if this is real yet! I don’t want to get our hopes up.”

“Well when the news does come out, know that the offer is going to be on the table. We need you, Hakim. Tell me that you’ll think about it, at least.”

“IF the news is real, I’ll consider it.” Hakim can almost hear Yassine smile at that but furrows his eyebrows. He thinks he can hear some mumbling in the background.

“Yassine, are there people with you- wait Yousef?”

“Okay good talk, man. See you soon! Give the missus our my salam!” the dial tone sounds, indicating that Yassine has hung up the call and had put him on speaker for the rest of the team who were almost certainly sitting right there with him. A small smile makes its way onto his face at the thought of his own team anticipating his return. He turns to look at you, your mouth slightly twitching into a smile and eyes fluttering as you struggle to feign sleep.

“I know you’re awake, my love.” He whispers, smile widening as he tickles you. You shriek with laughter, moving onto your back as he moves to lay by your side, elbow propped up with his head resting on his hand. He can see the excitement in your eyes, not necessarily for yourself but you know that his mind wanders to question his decision. Could he have handled it? The answer was no and he did the right thing for himself but a new opportunity now hangs in the air, one that could return him to his beloved team again.

“It might not even be real, I don't want to get our hopes up.”

“You’re right but it doesn’t hurt to consider the outcomes, no?”

“I suppose…” He sees you struggling to keep your eyes open and smiles softly. Whatever happens, at least he has his beautiful wife there with him. You were with him when he quit the team, holding him as he stressed about whether he was making a huge mistake. You were his rock throughout those first few months after the news broke out. When some old fans turned on him for a perceived lack of loyalty, when his ex “coach” was mouthing off about him to the press, when he cried at the idea of his teammates being resentful of the decision. He’s so happy he married you. You were his oasis amongst all the stresses of his career. 

“We should probably sleep, my love.” You hum softly in agreement.

He lays on his back and carefully rolls you over so that you lay your head on his chest. His eyes fluttering to a close. Hopefully this time, the sleep will be without interruptions.

“I gave Walid your number by the way.”

“Of course you did, Nayef. I expect no less from any of you.” Hakim sighs. He pretends to be annoyed but secretly, everytime one of them indicates a desire for his return, he’s a step closer to booking a flight, walking into the stadium and training with everyone like nothing happened. But he holds off and waits. doubts still race through his mind and the memories of the last experience serve to continue his hesitancy.

Hours later, Walid Regragui himself has texted Hakim and organised a Zoom meeting to discuss future plans.

He genuinely doesn’t know what to think. Would the governing body just pick a Halilhodžić 2.0?  For all he knows, this could all just be history repeating itself

Hakim takes a deep breath, mumbling a prayer before entering the call. He’s met with a very friendly looking face with a beaming smile, already promising…

“Ah, Hakim! What an honour to meet you!” Hakim smiles at that, he feels good about this.

“Likewise! The team has said many good things about you already!”

“I’m glad to hear that, it's a promising team and I have real faith in all of them. Listen, I’m not going to beat around the bush with this. We need you on the team.”

Everyone’s prayers have been answered. Hakim makes his reappearance during one of the final qualifier matches, having trained with the team since mid-August. It was a huge relief for everyone to see him again and his friends were ecstatic to have their team feel complete after so long. The crowd went wild at his entrance. Of course they had known for a while now but seeing him in the flesh was a different experience. The electricity of the crowd only served to energise the team and allowed for a picture perfect victory. Hakim is ecstatic and the first thing he wants is to celebrate with you so he turns to forming a heart with his hands towards you. your friends are cheering as they tease you a little bit. you blush at the gesture and return it as the crowd cheer for the pair of you.

This was definitely the right decision.

He’s pacing around the hotel room.

“Anything could happen, habibi. Imagine if we lost to Canada!” The pacing clearly isn’t helping his mind when you stand, placing a hand on his back and guiding him to sit down on the bed. You gently turn his head so he’s looking at you and kiss him softly. He immediately relaxes as he cups your cheek with his hand. You pull away for breath but he brings you back in for another shortly after, his other hand moving to wrap around your waist to pull you closer. When he needs to pull away for breath, he keeps his forehead on yours and his eyes stay closed. 

“You guys had Croatia on the ropes, Canada is nothing. Yassine said no to them anyway.” He smiles at that but the worry returns once more.

“You see, that's how they trick you! And then you end up losing to Saudi Arabia in your opening match!” you laugh and he furrows his eyebrows in confusion.

“Last I checked, the teams that care about every match as much as you end up doing exactly what's expected. So long as you don’t treat this match like a chance to poke fun at the other side, you’re gonna be okay, inshallah.” he hums in vague agreement.

“Do you think I made the right decision in coming back?”

“My love, I haven't seen you so happy playing football in a long time. This team clearly makes you happy and that's enough for me.”

“I thought I was supposed to be the one with the words.” so gently smack his arm at that. You have a good feeling about the upcoming days and that's all you can really say.

The hours have finally passed, after spending your time exploring the streets of Qatar, buying some gifts for family on the way while Hakim has his final training sessions with the team, you and hakim;s mother manage to find your seats in the stadium. You’re slightly concerned and hope that his worries in the morning have dissipated. Your seat is fairly close to the barrier so you can discern some faces, smiling widely as you see your husband in his starting position, focussed as ever.

It's a couple of minutes into the match and the Moroccan attack is already decimating the Canadian defence. The ball is passed to Hakim who performs one of his signature crosses and makes an extremely risky attempt. The angle is tight and the goalkeeper appears to be moving in the right direction. You’re frozen in place as you keep your eye on the ball.

Your reaction is delayed until you hear the crowd explode into cheers, chanting Hakim’s name just as they did upon begging for his return. You manage to make eye contact with him as tears begin to form and you blow him a kiss, the people around you are baffled by the weirdly intimate gesture. It all becomes clear as the giant monitors display the cameras which are all focussed on one player. Hakim makes eye contact with you to the best of his ability as he kisses his wedding ring and forms a heart with his hands. Hakim’s mother nudges your shoulder teasingly as you hide your face in your hands while the crowd relish a short glimpse into your love for each other. He can't hold in his excitement. And to think that without your reassurance and encouragement, he may not have even come. 

Once the final whistle is finally blown, the players are all immediately rushing to their families. Morocco have finally made it to the knockout stages, all while topping group F. 

Hakim can't wait until everyone has left, as he’s bursting with excitement. So, he jumps the barrier, making a beeline to hug his mum and then you in the tightest, most comfortable embrace. the crowd erupting into cheers at the sweetness of it all. Neither of you care about the cameras that have managed to capture the moment of intimacy you both shared. It's nothing unusual for the two of you from the glimpses Hakim shares into your relationship online. Its very clear that the two of you are made for each other. You feel your shoulder is slightly damp as the pair of you soak in the glorious moment.

“Everything okay, my love?” you whisper, a hand rubbing circles on his back.

“Just glad that I'm back.” you both laugh quietly, you can vaguely hear his friends whoop and cheer from the field and you swear you can hear Yassine thanking you for joining in with the pestering and you roll your eyes playfully. He reluctantly lets go, pressing a kiss to your cheek before making his way back to the bunker.

The journey back home in the taxi is in a comfortable silence, the smiles haven’t left your faces. Your hands are intertwined and your head is resting on his shoulder. 

The second you open the door to the hotel room, he kicks his shoes off and flops onto the bed dramatically. You snicker at his antics as you open the suitcases, looking for a shirt to sleep in. As you retrieve it, you look up to notice that hakim has already curled up under the blankets, scrolling through his phone at the edits he can't wait to show you. You quickly change as you jump in with him. His arms are immediately wrapped around your body, pulling you flush against him.

"People are quick with these huh?" you say, dumbfounded as you go through edit after edit. people have found and stitched old videos of you together, interviews, voiceovers from things he's said, photos from his instagram and you honestly commend the effort. Even you had forgotten about some of these, slightly embarrassed at how obvious the two of you were making the relationship. You at least remembered why the secret relationship was revealed so quickly.

"To say the least, it's only been a couple of hours!" you laugh as you continue to look through the hashtag people have created for you.

You grow bored of this so you put your phone back on the bedside table and turn to Hakim. You both admire each other for a second, gently tracing the other's features in silent admiration. The look he was giving you had your heart beating quickly, even after all this time. The softness they held made you feel like the luckiest girl in the world. Those edits really aren't that far off on the effect he has on you, as much as you hate to admit.

“Thank you all for pestering me so much about coming back.”

“It's what we’re here to do” you laugh quietly together before calling it a night and falling into a peaceful slumber wrapped in each other's arms.

idk how i feel about this one but i hope you enjoy anyway, my loves xx

#hakim ziyech #hakim ziyech x reader #hakim ziyech imagines #footballer fic #footballer imagine

[foxes-that-run]

Coney Island

To Zane Lowe (at 36mins) Taylor talked about Coney Island being about male regret and place everyone wanted to be but now with the lights are off. In this Lyric video Taylor referenced Harry's winding wheels, a metaphor for soulmates. It is co-written with William Bowery, Joe has no credit.

Winding Wheel

The Winding Wheel is a Ryan Adams’ song. (Ryan made a rock cover album of 1989). There is a post about it here. Ryan described it as a metaphor for an “ultimate soulmate”.

13 December 2013, Harry posted 'better still be my winding wheel' on Taylor's birthday. Say don't go was written 2 weeks later.

27 February 2015, the first photos of Taylor with Calvin were posted and Harry posted an overgrown winding wheel to IG

11 January 2018, Taylor put a Ferris Wheel in the open of End Game

11 December 2020, this Lyric Video has a ferris wheel

This is very long, this song hits so many classic Haylor themes that its dense. When it is all written out like this it boggles my mind people would think it is about another muse or several.

Taylor also said on radio about Coney Island:

"Aaron Dessner sent me this track that he created with his brother Bryce, and I wrote the lyrics and the melody with William Bowery. I was coming from a place of somebody who’s been in a relationship for decades and wakes up one day & realizes that they have taken their partner for granted. It speaks to people who are trying to communicate - but they’re two ships passing in the night. They’re trying to love each other but their signals are somehow missing each other.”

She also said ships in the nights about Exile in that interview and in the lyrics of Willow.

Live performances

Coney Island has been played live once, 28 April 2023 in Atlanta. This is one day before the High Infidelity anniversary of April 29. The other song was The Other Side of the Door which has similar theme of wanting a lover back and regret for ruining a relationship.

Lyrics

[Verse 1: Taylor Swift] Break my soul in two looking for you But you're right here If I can't relate to you anymore Then who am I related to?

The opening verse does not pull punches, it ends with 'if I can't relate to who then who am I related to?' Taylor and Harry have a lot of shared history, similar careers and while no one is as big as Taylor Harry is in a small group who can relate. They have respectively sung about being each others soulmate. To loose that is devastating.

Breaking her soul looking is similar to:

Don't blame me "For you, I would cross the line / fall from grace"

Illicit affairs "And you know damn well / For you I would ruin myself / …a million little times"

Slut! "And if they call me a slut / You know it might be worth it for once"

And if this is the long haul How'd we get here so soon? Did I close my fist around something delicate? Did I shatter you?

This again refers to this concept that even apart they are each others person, so to feel they aren’t connecting is a loss

Closing her fist around something Delicate is a reference to the song, which is also about Harry, more on why here. Shattering him is a reference to Falling, to be so lonely. and possibly renegade. Shattered pieces are also in mirrorball.

[Chorus: Taylor Swift] And I'm sitting on a bench in Coney Island Wondering, where did my baby go? The fast times, the bright lights, the merry go Sorry for not making you my centerfold

The fast times, bright lights describe their life, the place to be:

I Know Places: "Lights flash and we’ll run for the fences"

Wonderland: "Flashing lights and we took a wrong turn and we fell down a rabbit hole"

New Romantics: "We’re all here, the lights and noise are blinding"

Is it Over Now: "And did you think I didn't see you? / There were flashin' lights"

Merry-go round, and lost again with no surprises, disappointments refers to the cyclical nature of their relationship.

Blank Space: "But you’ll come back each time you leave"

Style: "And when we go crashing down we come back every time"

Cardigan: "And I knew you’d come back to"me"

OOTW "We were built to fall apart / Then fall back together (back together)"

Sorry for not making me your centerfold breaks my heart, meaning sorry you were not her end game when she thought he would stay with Joe. Lets take Labyrinth as a nice sequel.

Over and over Lost again with no surprises Disappointments, close your eyes And it gets colder and colder When the sun goes down

Maroon "How the hell did we lose sight of us again? Sobbin' with your head in your hands Ain't that the way shit always ends?" The chorus ends sadly, with it getting colder and colder the longer it goes on like that.

Taylor has referred to watching sunsets with Harry, usually in happy, wistful times, but here it is sad, the sun is setting on them. Sunsets are also in:

Out Of The Woods: When you started crying, baby, I did, too, but when the sun came up I was looking at you

Wildest Dreams: "Say you’ll remember me standing in a nice dress, staring at the sunset, babe"

It’s Nice To Have A Friend: Light pink sky up on the roof, sun sinks down, no curfew

Harry and Taylor also posted Sunset photos in Cannes a year apart, which Taylor referenced in the promotion for Cruel Summer, Slut!'s music video also had a similar sky.

[Verse 2: Matt Berninger with Taylor Swift] The question pounds my head What's a lifetime of achievement If I pushed you to the edge But you were too polite to leave me?

The lifetime achievement having no meaning without this muse reflects a theme that Harry and Taylor have sung about the cost of fame in Mirrorball, your on your own kid and Sign of the Times. In Suburban Legends Taylor sings "I didn't come here to make friends We were born to be suburban legends" which to me plays into the idea that they put their careers first and the relationship suffered.

Suburban Legends "I broke my own heart 'cause you were too polite to do it"

And do you miss the rogue Who coaxed you into paradise and left you there? Will you forgive my soul When you're too wise to trust me and too old to care?

Taylor describes Harry as a rogue is a troublemaker Harry has been in IKYWT, "you were trouble", 22 "you look like bad news" Style "James Dean daydream" and Ready for it? "Knew he was a killer first time that I saw him". Harry has also described himself this way in Trouble "You know i’m trouble / I’m trouble with you"

He coaxed her into paradise and left her there in the Virgin Isles in Now that we don't talk and famously the boat.

[Chorus: Taylor Swift with Matt Berninger] 'Cause we were like the mall before the internet It was the one place to be The mischief, the gift-wrapped suburban dreams Sorry for not winning you an arcade ring

Taylor talks about the line of the mall before the internet because it was the one place to be to Zane Lowe, linked above. I love this line, they were the one place to be, the two biggest pop stars in love. I also find a parallel in this line and August, "And say, "Meet me behind the mall" August being the other person, not Harry and Taylor, they meet behind the mall which Harry and Taylor are.

Gift-wrapped suburban dreams refers to Suburban Legends, where Harry and Taylor are the idols of suburbia. "We were born to be suburban legends [...] We were born to be national treasures/ When you told me we'd get back together"

Similar to the centerfold line, not winning you an arcade ring is saying sorry for not getting back together as they had thought. Falling is Harry's perspective on this belief that Taylor would stay with someone else. This time I will choose SOTB as my sequel track. ;)

[Bridge: Taylor Swift, Matt Berninger, Both] Were you waiting at our old spot In the tree line by the gold clock Did I leave you hanging every single day? Were you standing in the hallway With a big cake, happy birthday

In the unreleased Hunger Harry indicates they may have broken up on his birthday "We could ruin a perfect night / On my birthday I made you cry". This may have been in 2015, they had been seen together in late 2014, up to 2 weeks before Harry's birthday. Then Taylor was in Nashville on his birthday and she met CH 3 weeks later.

Hallways are also in 10 songs, generally meeting in them, but here they break up. Taylor also mentioned the birthday line to Zane Lowe as the album came out just before her birthday.

Did I paint your bluest skies the darkest grey? A universe away And when I got into the accident The sight that flashed before me was your face But when I walked up to the podium I think that I forgot to say your name

The accident is a reference to the Snow mobile accident in Is it over now? and OOTW: "Remember when you hit the brakes too soon / Twenty stitches in a hospital room / When you started crying, baby, I did too / But when the sun came up, I was looking at you"

To me, I forgot to say your name at the podium is a reference to Taylors 2013 VMA speech where she said "I'd like to say the person who inspired this song, you know exactly who you are, and now I have one of these!" Harry and Taylor were both musicians, the inspired each other and as evidenced by still writing to each other 10 years later this speech diminished that.

Harry’s unreleased Talk and includes “You forgot my name / Sick and tired of me, I can feel the heat” which, no one forgets his name so I take it as referring to the podium.

#haylor #evermore #coney island

[imminentinertia]

In which I keep a promise to a bunch of people who read a fic five years ago and try to explain why I'm doing that now

In 2018, @vesperthine and I collaborated on run down till the rain delights you and when some people asked for more, we promised a sequel. That didn't happen.

Until now.

Now it's snaking its way to AO3 like an aging Toyota on cold Tromsø roads (I'm really sorry for this silliness but one of the inspo photos we used did this to me).

There's a bit of a backstory:

First of all, you have @nofeartina to blame for run down in the first place and @peacestew to blame for me sliding into the SKAM fandom in 2023 going "hiiii I haven't been in this fandom for years but here's a fic".

In 2018, Tina wanted fisherman!Isak in a knit woolen jumper* and somehow roped V into writing it, and then V somehow roped me into a collab (I'm still entirely unsure how I ended up saying yes), we brainstormed and looked for inspo and wrote some scenes** to see how it went. Fisherman!Isak turned into marine!biologist!Isak with an old fishing boat and a cabin, Even pretended to be suave, the Tromsø area piped up about wanting to be more of a character than a location and there we were:

Gif by @peacestew

It was so much fun writing with V, and we got along so well, so we wrote a short sequel quite soon after. It just needed a few final tweaks.

Then life happened.

Long story short, I haven't heard from Vesperthine since summer 2019. I hope she's happy and well, and I hope she's writing original fiction because she's seriously gifted, and I miss her because she's a very sweet and smart and lovely person. I was left with a nearly finished draft and a hope she'd turn up again. Since then I've turned down requests to translate and podfic run down, and disappointed a few people asking about the promised sequel, because it didn't feel at all right to make those decisions without V's input.

But it's been five years (!!!), I doubt I'll ever hear from her again, that draft is sitting there on my drive, and... so earlier this year I started thinking about just going ahead and posting it. I went through all our notes and figured out what remained to be done (not much, we even had the title ready), and decided to do those tweaks at some point.

Then Peace slid into my notes a while ago (it had been a few years since we were in touch, I love it when old mates show up), we chatted quite a bit and somehow mentioned run down, and I'm entirely unsure how this snowball started rolling but now we're doing an art + fic collab with that sequel. She's been terribly enabling, and dangling pretty gifs in front of me, how could I resist? She even made a gorgeous title gif for run down. V would have been just as happy with this, I'm sure.

Considering that the sequel was just about finished, and V and I never had any actual disagreements while writing (one tiny scuffle about adjectives, we compromised), I think she'd be okay having her name put on the sequel. And I am okay with making that decision, since it's been so long. I've done the final editing, Peace has added her lovely gifs and now I'm just going to work up the courage to post it.

As stupid as I feel giving directions for fic reading I recommend you read (or re-read, bless everyone who has read it) run down till the rain delights you first, I'm not sure the sequel will make much sense otherwise.

the roll of the harbour wake is coming soon to a fic archive near you. Peace and I hope you will enjoy it.

Gif by @peacestew

*the fic was almost immediately nicknamed The sweater fetish fic. Drooling over the guys in knit woolen jumpers kept happening for ages.

**the first scene we wrote didn't actually make it to run down, but we put it in harbour wake, and it goes to show that sometimes a fic takes a very different direction from where you start it.

#skam #evak fic #skam fic #run down till the rain delights you #the roll of the harbour wake #peacestew #vesperthine #sea dreams

[bunnakit]

Not Me Episode 4 Music

Flares - Life in Colour

We immediately jump in with Flares as Sean is experiencing a nightmare. Stretch time but I guess if you wanted you could read this as Sean subconsciously sending up a signal flare for help.

Last Night, Last Night, Last Night - Well Then, Goodbye

This kicks in as Black is leaving Sean in the flashback; this could be a tie in with the 'Last Night' title as in it's a memory Sean is recalling that might feel like they just happened OR there could be a tie with the band name being 'Well Then, Goodbye' as Black very unceremoniously leaves Sean to his fate. (Either way, my ears don't particularly like this song, the reverb gives me ickies. Thank you misophonia.)

To Whom It May Concern - Rap Against Dictatorship (ft. Liberate P, Nazesus, and GSUS2)

The first time I saw the dance scene I got goosebumps and I could tell the show had done something big here. Allow me to infodump a bit. Rap Against Dictatorship uses their platform and their music to bring attention to the ongoing state of Thailand under military rule, especially during election time. They were founded in 2017 and released their first single in 2018. After the release of their single the members were threatened with arrest by police who later backpedaled after the music went viral and the group gained the support of the public. In 2019 they were awarded with the Václav Havel Prize for Creative Dissent* at the Oslo Freedom Forum. During the 2020-2021 Thai protests one member was arrested with other pro-democracy activists and later charged with sedition. Their music is often censored in Thailand due to it's anti-goverment and anti-monarchy message. (I love them so much, your honor.)

*Václav Havel Prize for Creative Dissent is an award established in 2012 by the New York City-based Human Rights Foundation (HRF). According to HRF President Thor Halvorssen, the prize recognizes individuals "who engage in creative dissent, exhibiting courage and creativity to challenge injustice and live in truth"

Downloaded Truth - Marten Moses

As White and Todd are discussing Eugene and Todd is persuading White to reach out to her this song comes in. It could be just a neat song, it could be that White found this downloaded little piece of truth in the video on Black's phone.

Crushed by A P O L L O

I'm fairly certain this, or a remix of it, is what is playing as White is on his phone texting Eugene? I know I've heard the song before and I have it stashed somewhere, Crushed sounds very close but I can't tell if it's quite right? Sometimes they put a little filter over the song or play an arrangement that's midway through the song and it trips me up a bit. If it isn't Crushed then it's very likely another Apollo piece (though none of the ones on that album, I checked.)

As Gram and White discuss the aftermath of the fire we get a little more Downloaded Truth.

As Nuch, Gram, and White all meet in the garage a bit more of Crushed's beat plays in the background.

3 (Instrumental Version) - Bambi Haze (ft. Lu Ni)

Just as White is hugging Eugene and trying to placate her this song comes in. There are truly no connections to be made here, no leaps or stretches to be found. (Though both this and several of Marc Torch's songs are on Epidemic Sound, a host for a lot of royalty free music, so this could be where GMMTV sources a good chunk of their music.)

Closer - Morphlexis

As Eugene climbs in White's lap this song plays and it could be a nod to Eugene wanting to be closer to Black or that she is physically closer to White, again, if we want to make some big stretchies.

When Eugene wakes up we're gifted with another appearance from Tripping over Danger which also wraps up the episode.

thank you so much to everyone who reads these! i recommend checking back at some older posts as i have made some updates (sometimes i miss songs and realize it later.) i promise to make a masterpost of these once we're done and i'll put together a little list of my favorites!

#not me #not me the series #nmrewatch23 #music #soundtrack #bunn meta

[writer-darling]

Are You Ever Dreaming of Me?

Chapter 7: Style | Read Chapter 6: It’s Nice to Have a Friend!

I NEVER USE Y/N OR ANYTHING LIKE IT THANK YOU SO MUCH :)

Rating: M - Mature (THE TIME HAS COME) (18+ MINORS DNI)

Pairing: Ezra (Prospect, 2018) x F!Reader

Warnings: IT’S ANOTHER LONG ONE I’M SORRY. Good old enemies-to-lovers trope. age gap (10 years). Nothing super descriptive for Reader but they are described as having hair. Tension, OF ALL KINDS, reaches an all-time high. Adult language. A LOT of feelings and things of that nature. Banter. Flirting. It’s E-to-L, you know where this is going. Feral Ezra (he starts at an 83.5% but ends up at about a 90.79% in this chapter). Religious practices, mentions (fictional). Mentions of food and alcohol. Arguing. Fingering. Lots of praise. If there are any that I missed, please inbox me to let me know and I will add them in :)

Word Count: 10.9k

Summary!: Three steps forward, two steps back, is still one step forward. 

A/N: REWRITTEN AND REFORMATTED ON: 12/30/23; IF YOU READ ANY OF THE REWRITES READ THIS ONE

******

“And I should just tell you to leave, 'cause I

Know exactly where it leads, but I

Watch us go 'round and 'round each time…”

 It was a great week... 

 Until it wasn't. You’ve spent almost the entirety of the past week and a half with Ezra. Playing cards, making more conversation, and sharing food and drinks whenever you can. The atmosphere between you two has lightened significantly, becoming overall cheerier. Even the crew’s seemed to notice.

 On the last night of the work week, you and Ezra are chatting as usual, this time near the end of the night. A group of your crew is present, and the hours have been going by quickly in the best way. Ezra’s acting as his usual storyteller-self and you’re just as enticed as the rest of the crew. You know it's getting late, but the mood is so light, that you can’t bear to cut the evening short until now, knowing full well that tomorrow will be back to the typical grindstone. When you check your watch, it dawns on you that it’s very late. So, you wait until the story's over before you announce our departure. 

"Well, I think it's time I get some sleep. We've got an early day tomorrow." You say, standing up from your seat and gathering your helmet and empty food tray from dinner.

 Ezra looks up at you with a warm smile and gives a slight nod in agreement. The rest of the group bid you goodnight. Before you can turn to leave, Ezra calls out, stopping you in your tracks. "Wait," You turn on your heel. 

 "Yeah, what's up?" You ask him with a raise of your eyebrow. He pauses, looking around at everyone else for a moment before turning back to you. 

 "Do you mind if I walk you back to your quarters?" The group’s eyes go from you to Ezra, then back again as they await to hear your answer. You see the crew look from Ezra to you with interest, making you pause. It definitely wouldn't be a good idea to agree, considering how many rumors there have been about you two lately. But you can't deny that you enjoy Ezra's company. 

 "Sure, c'mon," You say before you turn again and begin to walk to your tent without checking if he's following or not.

 Ezra is a bit surprised that you agreed, but he immediately gets out of his seat and begins to walk after you. As you head back to your chambers, there's a bit of silence between the two of you. Finally, he decides to speak up. 

 "So, uh, shall we talk about that little rumor the crew is spreadin’?" he asks.

 "What rumor?" You ask with clearly mock obliviousness. Before you snort when he chuckles in response, but you shake your head gently. "I didn't peg you as being interested in idle gossip." You tease.

 "I'd say that the 'idle gossip' has gone a bit beyond what I'd call 'idle' by now. It's been a weeks-long topic at this point, at least." Ezra pauses, and you notice him blush a bit. You roll your eyes playfully with a smile,

 ”Yeah, I guess it has...” but then you see he seems in a more somber mood so you backtrack from your playful tone. “Does it bother you at all?" You ask him, genuinely unsure if you want him to say ‘yes’ or ‘no.’ He pauses for a moment before responding. 

 "I'm not gonna lie, the attention can be a bit... uncomfortable," he admits. "But what really bothers me is that it makes you seem like nothin’ more than the 'exotic' object in this... mess. You deserve more than that." His tone is one of fierce conviction as his troubled brow furrows. "You're smart, funny, driven, and so much more. Yet the crew seems to ignore that and focus on what you are, rather than who you are. You deserve respect." Your heart warms as he expresses that and you smile, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

 “You’re a good man, Ezra. And don’t worry about those jagoffs, ok? They’re just being… men.” You say with a soft chuckle. Ezra gives a slight grin, his face lighting up at your touch. 

 "You're too kind to me," he says, placing his own hand on top of yours, something that has become more and more frequent as of late. "I'm sure you know what I mean here... bein’ a woman in the workforce is hard. At least, I know my sister's told me a few horror stories." Ezra pauses, before letting his fingers gently interlace with yours. You smile and let him grab your hand. 

 “One of your sisters is a prospector too?” You ask him, surprised that he hasn’t mentioned it until now. “Which one?”

 "Shira is," Ezra says with a nod, still holding onto your hand. He runs his thumb along your fingers lightly. "She's just as smart as any of those men on her crew... maybe even more so, considerin’ she has the drive to reach out and work with the minin’ corporations rather than out here on the Fringe." Ezra pauses, thinking for a moment. "She's quite the negotiator," he adds with a slight grin.

 “Mm, just like her big brother, then?” His grin turns sheepish. You smile. Again, he seems so proud of his siblings. “What about your other sisters? The older ones. What do they do?” You ask.

 Ezra's smile widens. "Well, Dalia’s a biologist," he says with a slight chuckle. "She studies the ecosystems of worlds that we visit. We all call her the 'space hippie'," Ezra says with a light shrug. "And Danni is a mechanic for the minin’ corporations that sponsor us prospectors," he adds, just as you two reach the entrance of your tent. 

 “Well, I’d love to hear more about your sisters. We can continue this talk at breakfast tomorrow?” You ask him with a hopeful smile. He nods, letting go of your hand and giving a slight chuckle. 

 "Bright ‘n early," he says, looking at you and smiling. His gaze lingers for a moment, studying your face, before giving a wink and a small nod. "I'll see you tomorrow," he says.

 “Good night, Ezra. Sweet dreams.” You say reaching for his hand and giving it one more gentle squeeze before you enter your tent. He smiles as he watches you enter your tent. He stands there for a moment longer, just watching you with that same smile on his face. Finally, he puts a hand over his heart and whispers to himself, 

 "Sweet dreams to you too, my darlin’." Ezra turns and walks away, heading back to his own tent.

It was a great week... 

 Until it wasn’t. The next morning, you wake up with a pounding headache. It feels like you’ve got pins and needles behind your eyes and you groan as the morning light, even dimmed by the thick tarp of your tent, stings your vision. You’re half tempted to just roll over in your cot and go back to sleep, but you decide against it.

 Eventually, you make it out of bed, mainly because you hear the commotion of the men getting up and likely heading for breakfast. You look around for some clean clothes and quickly realize… you forgot to do laundry this week. Crap. You decide to pick your least offensive clothing and get dressed, reminding yourself to do laundry as soon as your shift is over. You begrudgingly start towards the dining tent.

 It’s busier than usual this morning, as many crew members are trying to recover from the night before. Ezra is sitting with a few of the crew, talking and laughing together. He looks up as soon as you enter, his expression going from lighthearted merriment to a look of concern in an instant. "Hey!" he says, immediately getting up to come towards you.

 “Hey,” you try to offer him a smile but your head is still pounding and you feel overall off, making it look more like a grimace. He looks at you, your expression immediately putting him on alert. 

 "Are you alright?" he asks with concern in his voice. He looks you up and down, noticing the slight unsteadiness in your steps. 

 “Not really, I’ve got this killer headache." You explain, taking a seat at the nearest table as a wave of nausea overtakes you. You take a deep breath and rest your head on your knees, closing your eyes for a moment. Ezra is clearly worried. He quickly pulls out a handkerchief and lays it on the table in front of you, before coming around the table to kneel down next to you. 

 "What does it feel like?" he asks, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. He glances up at you, looking for clues as he studies you. "Nausea? Light sensitivity?"

 "Mmm, yup. Both of those." You reply as you take another deep breath. He places a gentle hand underneath your chin, lifting your head back. 

 "Look at me," he says, his tone full of concern. He quickly studies your expression, making a note of the paleness of your face before taking note of your sunken cheeks. He moves a bit away as he grabs his multitool from his belt, clicking on the small lightpen. “Follow my finger,” He instructs as he moves both the pen and his pointer finger from one edge of your vision to the other, testing your eyes’ reflexes. "You look really ill, but your eyes are responding fine," he says after a moment when he’s finished. "Stay right here," he says to you as he stands back up. 

 Ezra glances around, looking for any signs of a medic or medical supplies. You don't even have the energy to flush from how close he is, but you still feel relieved when he stands up. You close your eyes and take another breath, feeling the nausea start to subside. He leaves for a few minutes but you don’t even notice until he’s back.

 He quickly returns to your side, carrying a few different supplies in his hands. He hands you a small bottle of water and a pill bottle, placing them on the table for you. "Here," he says, "drink some water, and take two of these," he adds, placing the pill bottle next to the bottle of water. 

 "What are these?" You ask him as you open up the bottle and place two into your palm. They're ovular and pink. He smiles and shakes his head slightly.

 "They're for stomach troubles. Should help with the nausea," he says. "Don't worry, they're perfectly safe - some of the other crew take them all the time." Ezra watches you carefully as you take the pills. "Usually for when they eat too much grub after a shift.”

 You nod and take both of them, swallowing them down with a couple swigs of water. You thank him when you're done, setting the water aside and taking a few seconds to wait for the pills to take effect. He takes a seat near you, seeming a bit more relaxed now that you've taken the medication. He watches you carefully for a moment before speaking again. "You should head back to your tent, and get some rest. I'd hate for you to overdo it this early in the day," he says, his tone still concerned.

 "I can't, I gotta get the shift started," You say as you notice the rest of the crew putting on their helmets and discarding their mostly empty food trays to head out for the latest dig of the day. You make sure you feel steady before you slowly stand up, grabbing your helmet and putting it on.

 Ezra gives a quick nod as you grab your equipment and start to head out of the tent. He gets up to follow you as you walk towards the group of others. "Take it easy if you can, okay?" Ezra says, trying to keep his voice low enough so only you can hear him. You nod and thank him again with a soft smile, appreciating that he’s looking out for you.

 He smiles back, glancing around and making sure no one is paying attention to the two of you as you two walk a few yards. But he can’t help himself before whispering, "Ya know, you could stay in your tent for a day or two while you recover, and no one would bat an eyelash," he says quietly. "I know this expedition is important, but your health is more." 

 “Don’t be ridiculous, Ezra. I’ll be fine.” You insist. “I took the meds, I’m sure I’ll get over whatever this is soon.” You two reach your grid and you begin setting your pack and equipment down. He looks at you for a moment, a slight frown on his face as he watches to make sure you're doing alright. 

 "I'm not goin’ to be able to talk you into it, am I?" he asks you teasingly. You can hear the worry in his tone, though, and his expression is one more of trepidation than amusement.

 “No, you can’t.” You say with a bit of a smile. “We have to work. I’ll be fine.” You say, beginning to get a bit irritated with his concern. It’s not that you find it annoying, but you know your work is important. Still, it’s not his fault that you woke up feeling like garbage. You sigh. “Look, if I’m feeling worse, I’ll take a break. Are you good with that?” You ask him.

 He seems to sense your irritation and nods, submitting. "Yeah, I get it. It's our job," he says, his expression turning serious again. He stands with you for a moment longer, watching as you kneel down to access the gem mounds below the forest floor. He glances around to make sure that everyone is occupied before speaking again. "Good luck with the diggin’," he whispers. "I'm sure you'll find somethin’ amazin’."

 You soften as he wishes you luck. “You too. I’ll see you at lunch?” You offer with a hopeful look. Ezra nods and smiles at you, seeming a bit more reassured now that you're ready to start digging. 

 "Yeah, I'll meet you at lunch," he replies. Ezra gives you a little nod and starts to head off in the direction of his space. You're still not feeling great, but as soon as you start working, your mind begins to become focused on the task at hand. It's easier to ignore the headache and nausea when you're digging... at least, for the time being.

All work momentarily pauses as the alarms coming through your radios signal that Denver’s got an announcement,

 “Morning, crew,” He greets and you all respond in kind, all eyes on the ground moving upwards to watch him as he stands at the watchtower. “I know we’ve got Kevva’s Light coming up this weekend so I’m making this announcement to every last one of you to let you know that you’ve got the rest of the weekend off-” The crew erupts in cheers, and you smile. “Our shifts will be cut short today, only half a day, and then we’ve got the next 2 and a half days for ourselves.” Your group cheers again and the man’s smile widens into a grin. “Feel free to celebrate our Goddess’ Holy Day however you want: rest, party… drink.” He says that last bit with playful emphasis and there’s another cheer. “I’m planning a small feast in the dining hall tomorrow evening, so feel free to come hang out if you’d like. Now, let’s have a great dig,” With that, the work resumes and you’re glad the happy announcement brought you some needed distraction.

But unfortunately, the distraction doesn’t last long. You spend hour after hour digging but it seems like your luck on this expedition has finally run dry. Your frustration seems to bring the headache back tenfold, and you decide to finally take that break, sitting down on a nearby log to rest. You look around and spot Ezra a few yards away.

 He also seems to be having an awful dig today, if his near-empty pack is anything to go by. His brow is furrowed and his frown is deep as he continues to dig. He looks over at you and notices you taking that rest. He walks over and takes a seat next to you, glancing over with a sympathetic look as he surveys his own pile. He lets out a sigh and looks up at the clouds, seeming frustrated with the lack of discoveries he's made so far. 

 "Well, this is just peachy, ain’t it?" he asks, turning to face you with a small laugh. Ezra pauses for a moment when he sees the state of your own pile. "It looks like things aren't goin’ too well for us today, huh?" he says with an awkward smile. You offer the same awkward smile back. 

 “I suppose not.” You say. You sigh and run a hand through your hair as your head throbs again. “At least it’s almost lunchtime.” You say with a small frown. Ezra nods, seeming to reach the same conclusion as you. 

 "Yeah," he says, offering a small smile. "Lunchtime is always a good thing, no matter the circumstances," he says. "And hey, you never know what good the Holy Day will bring," Ezra says optimistically. After another long moment, Ezra stands back up. "If you want, we could go over the map together for next week? Maybe that’ll give us another avenue of labor to dig into," he adds, offering a hopeful look. You nod, even if you were actually hoping to get some rest during lunch. But who knows? Maybe a distraction and some time with the closest person you can call ‘friend’ is what you need. 

 “Ok, sure.” You say softly. You stand up with another sigh. “C’mon, let’s keep going. It’s only another half-hour until lunch.” You say and stand up.

Ezra follows you to your area first. As he walks, Ezra also occasionally glances over at you, looking for any signs of how you're feeling. "You still holdin’ up okay?" he asks, his voice soft so none of the other crew members can overhear.

 “Yeah, doing a bit better.” You say, shrugging your shoulders. “My head’s hurting again, but I think I’ll just look for something in my medkit once my shift is over.” You say softly as you set your own stuff down and resume your work.

 He nods and wishes you luck again before going back to his space. Every now and then he glances over to make sure you're doing alright, watching you work. He clears a good portion of his area, glancing over at his watch and sighing from being disappointed with the lack of discoveries. So he decides to go back to you again.

  "How’s it this time around? Any luck?" he asks, his voice hopeful for you despite his obvious disappointed expression.

 “Nope.” You say bluntly, sighing with frustration. The alarms ring to signal lunch time and you throw your stuff down where it is, marching away from the site. “Goddamnit, not one good dig. I can’t believe it.” You mumble, half to yourself, half to Ezra. He exhales sharply and places his hands on his hips, a look of frustration on his face. 

 "I know the feelin’," he says, glancing around at the empty piles of dirt. "Sometimes it's not meant to be," he adds. Ezra then turns back towards you, offering you a small smile. "Come on... let's head to lunch," he says before starting to walk towards the dining tent with the rest of the men.

You two grab your trays and get into the growing line of men, Ezra allowing you to serve yourself first.

 “So, got any plans for Kevva’s Light?” He asks, a little too hopeful that your answer is no.

 “Not really,” You admit with a soft shrug. “I didn’t grow up religious or celebrating. I mean we always had time off on that weekend, so my parents would pull me out of school early the day before and we’d go and do stuff together,” You pause as you both grab a bowl to serve yourselves some stuff that resembles stew. “But, that stopped after my dad passed and we never really made an effort to pick it back up. If anything, I just sleep a lot.” You add with a small chuckle, making Ezra smile as you grab a bread roll next. “How about you?” He shrugs and serves you both some green juice. 

 “I grew up pretty devoted, if I’m bein’ honest.” He responds, seeming almost embarrassed by that fact. “But, I haven’t been an official follower in a long time.” You two begin the walk to the closest available table. “To be frank, I ditched the whole idea while out here.” He says, and there’s something slightly bitter in his tone and his eyes but you don’t push it. Instead, you nod,

 “I get that. I have friends back home who did too. Those celebrations do seem pretty fun though. I know they and their families would have big parties or do those moonlit rituals.” You say, both sitting down and beginning to eat. He cracks a smile at that, at ease again.

 “My parents did everythin’: the Observations of Silence, the big family feast, the Moonlight Dance. Pretty sure it was their favorite holiday of the year.” He says. You smile when he does, before taking a spoonful of warm stew.

 “Well, we can always go to Denver’s dinner? Sounds like a lot of the crew is planning on attending?” You offer. His smile widens when you say, ‘we’, still not used to the fact that you consider him in your plans now.

 “Actually,” He says, and pauses for just a beat too long as he figures out the best way to word this. “I was thinkin’ we could do somethin’ a little more private in one of our tents? I’m still not keen on celebratin’ much, but I think we could have a special dinner for the two of us?” His eyes are almost cinnamon in this light and warm as they meet yours in a hopeful gaze. You smile and nod. There’s something in his tone that makes you see that this isn’t just another get-together. For whatever reason you can tell that this… means something else.

 “Sure. Why not?” His shoulders practically sag with relief and you both eat your stew and bread in a comfortable silence. But then, your head begins to throb again. You wince and he notices.

 “Headache’s still here?” He asks and you nod with a grimace. “We should get you your medkit.” He grabs your now empty dishes along with his and takes them to the wash pile before you two leave the tent, heading for your tent.

 You follow along, feeling your head begin to throb even worse. You ignore it for the moment. You lead him inside. “Have a seat.” You say, gesturing to your cot, while you grab a chair for yourself. After you’re both seated, Ezra sighs and glances over at you again and sees that you’re still in pain. 

 "Let me get it for you.” He says.

 “It should be right above you in the cabinet right there.” You say, pointing behind him, a few feet above his head.

 Ezra looks up at where you're pointing, finding the medkit resting exactly where you said. He nods and quickly gets up, grabbing the kit off of the shelf. Ezra returns to his seat, holding the kit in his hand. "Here you go," he says, handing it to you. "Do you want some water with those?" he asks, indicating to the pills in the kit.

 “I have some, thanks.” You say, grabbing your canteen and opening it. You grab a pain reliever and take it quickly, hoping it kicks in fast. “Ok, so have you got that map to look at?” You ask him. He nods and pulls out the map, quickly glancing over it to familiarize himself with the layout. 

 "Let's see... we've already covered this whole area right here," he says, pointing to a section of the map. "And we did a bit more over here," he adds, pointing to another area before looking at you. "So it looks like the next spot to hit is this area here. Hopefully, that'll be a bit more lucky for us," Ezra says with a smile. "What do you think?" Your brow furrows. 

 “Mm, that’s too close to those groups I noticed the other night. We don’t want to cause any trouble. Do you know if Denver’s had any communication with them?” You ask him. He sighs and shakes his head. 

 "I don't think so. We can't seem to establish any kind of line of communication with the other groups," he says, sounding a bit frustrated. Ezra pauses for a moment, thinking about the situation. "You're right," he says eventually. "That area is a bit too close for comfort. Do you have any other ideas? I want to make sure we're findin’ somethin’ today. Just not somethin’ that'll bring us trouble." He pauses for a moment, looking at you.

 “Well, there is this area, closer to the river.” You say, pointing to an area further east. “Maybe this one might work?” Your tone is hopeful but when you look up to meet Ezra’s eyes, his frown and furrowed brow put a stop to your optimism. “What?” 

 He sighs and shakes his head again, seeming more concerned now. "That's even worse," he says, his voice filled with a hint of urgency. "That area is a bit of a no-go," he adds, staring at you with a serious expression. He pauses for a moment before speaking again. "The groups near the river have been especially unfriendly," Ezra explains. "I... I can't quite go into detail, but there was an incident the other night." Ezra looks like he might say more, but he stops himself. "That area's off-limits," he says finally.

 “Well we can’t go your route, that’s also too close.” You point out. “We’ve got to be able to get to the area near the river.” He sighs and rubs his face in frustration. 

 "We're runnin’ outta options..." he says, sounding a bit exasperated. "What ‘bout this here?" he asks, his voice rising in pitch as he points out another area on the map. "It's a bit of a walk... and it's goin’ into an area we haven't explored yet, but maybe that'll help our cause." Ezra offers a hopeful smile, staring back at you. You shake your head, your own frustration climbing too. 

 “I mentioned that spot to Denver when we first got here; he said it’s full of unstable caves that have been known to collapse. He doesn’t want to risk any of us going in there.” You say.

 “Goddmnit.” He mumbles. You two spend the next five minutes pouring over that map, trying out different plans on how to find a more bountiful site. All to no avail. Finally, Ezra pushes away the map with a frustrated groan. 

 He sighs again and puts his head in his hands, seeming like he might just give up. "Do you have any ideas?" he asks, his tone filled with desperation. "We're runnin’ outta time, and we're runnin’ outta options. I need somethin’," he says, sounding stressed and anxious. Ezra glances up at you again, looking like he might just go off and try digging on his own. "Do you have anythin’? Anythin’ at all?"

 You run a hand through your hair again, wincing when your fingers catch on a small knot. You undo it with your fingers before sighing. “I know, Ezra. I know.” You say, a slight tone of annoyance beginning to creep into your voice. “You’re not the only one that needs this dig to go well.”

 Ezra looks up sharply at the change in your tone, seeming a bit hurt by the annoyance. "No, I know that," he says, sounding annoyed himself. "It's just that... it feels like you've shot down every idea I've had so far," he says, throwing his hands up, visibly frustrated. "I don't know what you want from me. I've been workin’ just as hard as you, and I need somethin’ to turn up," he says, his voice raising as he gets more irritated. You shake your head. 

 “You know that’s not it. I’m not shooting down your ideas for nothing.” You protest, crossing your arms over your chest defensively. He stares at you for a moment, still not liking the tone you're taking with him, but he tries to keep his temper in check. 

 "So why are you shootin’ ‘em down?" he asks, sounding genuinely confused. Ezra takes a breath and puts his hands on his knees, trying to remain calm. He pauses for a moment before speaking again. "Look, I'm just as frustrated as you right now," he says. "I'm just tryin’ to find somethin’ that we can both agree on, somethin’ that actually has a chance of workin’."

 “I know that.” You snap. “But this terrain is dangerous. If it’s not the obstacles, it’s the groups around us. We can’t just go anywhere we want, you know that.”

 "Yeah, I do know that," Ezra replies, throwing his hands up again in frustration as he paces a bit. "But I can work with danger, okay? I can handle the groups, I know how to navigate the terrain, none of that bothers me," he answers. Ezra stares daggers at you, but he doesn't say anything further as he takes a few moments to calm himself down. "We just need a spot to go where we actually have a chance of findin’ somethin’ worthwhile, alright?" Ezra asks, his tone still a bit harsh, but not quite as intense as before.

 You let out a sound of frustration and rise from your seat, rolling your eyes. “Kevva above, you’re such a vet.” You say.

 "What are you tryin’ to say?" His voice suddenly sharp as he asks, his eyebrows furrowing together in confusion. Ezra stares at you, not wanting to speak out of turn or jump to conclusions. He also keeps a close eye on your tone, as the frustration earlier still has him on edge.

 “I’m saying that just because you’ve been here longer than most of us doesn’t mean you know everything, Ezra.” You say, crossing your arms again. “I know you think you can handle yourself but we both know a lot of those groups are the ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ type.”

 Ezra sighs and shakes his head at you, clearly frustrated. "I never said I knew everythin’," he says, bringing his voice back down. "But you know I've been out here, dealin’ with those 'shoot first' groups for years," Ezra says, turning away from you, and looking at the ground. He glances back over at you after a moment, and it looks like he's trying to stay calm. But it's hard. "I never said I was perfect, did I? You know how hard it is, especially out here. So maybe consider that I know what I'm talkin’ about a lil bit."

 “I know you know your stuff, Ezra. But you’re clearly not getting that this shit isn’t just a walk in the park. If something happens to you, it damages more than just you. It impacts all of us.” You say with a frown.

 Ezra stares at you, visibly conflicted. "Do you think I haven't thought about that?" he asks, his voice still tense. Ezra raises his hands as he stands up straighter and puts them on his hips, not knowing how to explain himself to you. He takes another moment to collect his thoughts before turning back towards you, speaking once more. "Look, I'm not suggestin’ we go out and seek out trouble. I know the risks... believe me." Ezra pauses for a moment, taking a deep breath before speaking again. "But we need some course of action, here.”

 “Of course we do, but it takes more than just ‘I can work with danger’,” you say, using air quotes. “It takes planning and strategy and hoping that these jagoff groups aren’t keen to kill us!”

 He rolls his eyes and throws his hands up in surrender. He huffs and turns away from you, starting to lose his patience. Ezra takes a step closer, his voice raised again. "Okay, rook, then what's your plan, huh? What's your 'strategy'?" Ezra glares at you and points a finger in your direction, daring you to give him anything. "Because it sure looks like you've got nothin’! Nothin' but my plan. So what's it gonna be?"

 You frown. “Ugh, you’re so infuriating!”

 He gives you a smug smile and leans in, getting close to you. "And you think you're not infuriatin’?" he asks, taking a moment to consider you. "I'm doin’ my best here," he continues, taking a more serious tone. "We both know how high-stakes this all is, but we also know how important it is to get a dig done... you need to trust me here," Ezra says, his voice softer now. Ezra gazes at you, waiting for a response. You consider his tone as you take a minute. He’s trying to diffuse the situation. You rub the back of your neck tiredly and step away to refocus.

 “Fine… you’re right.” You concede in kind, your own voice is less harsh now. “I’m sorry… we’re obviously still able to get on each other’s nerves too easily.” You say, trying to joke to lessen the tension further. There's a small hint of a smile on his face at your response. 

 "Yeah, I guess we are," he says, chuckling lightly. Ezra clears his throat and rubs his face. "I know we're just a little tense because of this situation, but I don't want either of us to say somethin’ we'll regret, yeah?" You nod, agreeing with him. 

 “We’re too tense right now. Maybe we just should take some time away from each other. Just for the rest of the day until we cool off.” You suggest. He nods, understanding where you're coming from. 

 "Yeah, that might be for the best," he says, agreeing with your suggestion. "Let's both go off and do somethin’ else for a bit, just to clear our heads, and then we can try again once we're a little more relaxed." Ezra takes a deep breath and stretches his arms out, trying to release the tension from his muscles. "Do you mind if I go do a little diggin’ on my own for a bit?" Ezra asks, looking back at you. "It always calms me down, you know?" You nod and look around your tent, noticing the full hamper and remembering what you’d told yourself this morning. 

 “Yeah. I think I’m gonna get some laundry done.” You say quietly and walk over to your hamper. “We can talk about things later at dinner, how’s that sound?” You ask.

 Ezra nods and gives you a small smile. "Sounds good to me," he says, taking a few steps toward the doorway to exit the tent. "Maybe havin’ somethin’ else to focus on will help clear our heads, yeah? I’ll see you in a few hours." Ezra pauses at the entrance and looks back over at you. His tone still has a bit of tension in it, but he's trying to move past everything. He takes a deep breath before exiting the tent to leave you some room to breathe.

You spend the rest of your lunch and your shift doing laundry. Unlike life back home, you have to do most everything manually. So you grab your large washing tub, your washboard, some soap packs, and your hamper. For the next couple of hours, you work on your clothing, washing every article carefully, twice. You even grab your boots and helmet and clean them as well. When you’re done, you set up a quick makeshift clothesline with some rope between two trees to hang all your clothes to air-dry with the remaining sunlight. 

Ezra spends the next few hours digging on his own. He moves his way a fair distance from the campsite, and for some time you can see his silhouette against the horizon as he digs in the dirt and rocks. He seems quite frustrated at times, kicking the ground and throwing his equipment to the floor, muttering to himself. Eventually, he stops, wiping his brow and sitting on the forest floor to take a break. "Kevva..." he mumbles to himself. He lets out another sigh and lays back, staring up at the sky for a while.

 You’re tempted to walk over, but you know you should keep your distance. Things are uneasy with you two right now and your friendship with him is currently rocky at best. So instead you watch him as he eventually gives in, for the time being, heading to his own tent presumably to wash up for the evening. You grab some of your clothing from the line, the other half still damp, before you do the same, heading inside your tent to shower and leaving the rest of your clean things to dry. 

After you’re ready for dinner, you exit your tent just as Ezra’s exiting his. You’ve changed into some shorts and a t-shirt while Ezra’s in a white muscle shirt and a pair of sweats. Your eyes meet and he seems hesitant, as if he wants to say something, but is unsure of how to. You notice that his mood hasn’t lightened, the furrow between his brows still tight and his mouth turned downwards. He walks over and takes a deep breath and then speaks, his voice quiet. 

 "...Hey," he starts, "listen... I'm... I'm a little frustrated right now, yeah?" Ezra pauses, letting his words hang there in the air.

 “Yeah,” you say playfully to keep that tension from returning, even if you feel it rolling off of both of you in waves. “I can see that…” Your voice softens when you give him a once-over; “is there anything I can do to help?” You ask him.

 Ezra takes a moment to gather his thoughts before replying. "I think... I think you know that it's important for me to get a diggin’ done," he starts carefully. "... and I know that's important for us all, but... I just feel like I'm bein’ questioned at every step of the way." Ezra pauses, letting his words linger for a moment. "That's frustratin’." He asks, staring at you with an expectation in his eyes. Ezra's tone is still quiet and subdued, but there's a slight sharpness to it now.

 “Ez…” you sigh, not wanting to irritate him further. “Look, it’s been a tough day for both of us, can we agree on that?” You ask.

 "Yes, we can," Ezra answers, his tone softening a bit. He breathes in slowly, trying to let go of some of the tension he’s feeling. "Look, I know you're just tryin’ to make sure we don't rush things, but sometimes I feel like you're not even givin’ my ideas a chance." Ezra pauses for a moment, considering his words before continuing. "I know this is a serious expedition with serious consequences, but we can't be too careful, either. We have to take some risks, otherwise we won't get anywhere."

 You nod. “I know. You do know what you’re doing, otherwise you wouldn’t still be out here.” You say. “I’m sorry. It’s not that I don’t trust you or trust your instincts I just…” you trail off for a moment, not wanting to say what you really want to. 

 Ezra waits patiently as you consider your words, looking at you intently. He senses that you have something more to say, but don't know how to say it. A single eyebrow raises in curiosity, silently encouraging you to continue.

 “I worry, alright? Believe it or not: I worry about you.” You admit, averting your eyes.

 Ezra's eyebrow furrows and he sighs. "I know it can be dangerous out here, especially as things have been tense with the dig site lately," he says patiently. Ezra takes a deep breath before continuing, his tone getting a bit softer. "But our team looks after each other, right?" Ezra pauses for a moment, then continues. There’s obvious doubt in your eyes but you nod anyway, conceding for now. 

 “Right.” You say quietly. “Can we move on from this, please?” You ask him. “I’d really just like to talk about something else.” You say, rubbing your head as you feel your headache throb again. Ezra nods, his expression softening as he sees you rubbing your head. 

 "Of course, we can," Ezra asks, his voice almost remorseful. "I know I can get a bit tense sometimes, and I don't think I'm the most likable person," Ezra says, a bit of self-deprecation creeping into his tone. Ezra looks at you for a moment before speaking again, his voice softer now, seemingly more concerned for you than before. "... is your head still hurtin’?" Ezra asks, genuinely worried. You nod. 

 “I think it’s all the stress from today,” you mutter, your tone a bit bitter but it softens when you look at him again. “Let’s go get something to eat.” You say. Ezra nods, taking a step toward you again. He puts one of his arms out in a friendly manner. 

 "Sounds good to me. I know I could use a bite," he says, his tone still concerned over your pain. Ezra pauses for a moment to think, his expression becoming more serious once again. With a slow breath, Ezra looks at you and says, "... about that plan, though. Can we talk about that? Just for a quick second."

 “Ezra,” you warn him as you give him a long look. “Can you just drop it?” Your tone is sharper again. 

 “Just one conversation, c’mon, I really think we should-”

 “Kevva above you are so frustrating!” You say. “I don’t want to talk about this plan anymore. If you want to talk about it, feel free to go to Denver and argue about it with him and the rest of the crew but leave me out of it!” You snap and storm off to your tent angrily.

Ezra stares at you in disbelief as you storm off. His expression is a mixture of shock and confusion as he watches you disappear into your tent. Ezra takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. He stares at the ground in dismay for a moment as he tries to process everything. Ezra's expression suddenly shifts to one of anger. He clenches his fists and takes a few steps toward your tent, throwing the entry flap aside, and following after you

 "What the hell was that?" Ezra asks, not shouting, but still a bit more forceful than before.

 “It’s called ‘leaving the conversation’! You should be used to me doing it by now!” You snap back, your arms now crossed over your chest defensively.

 "You can't just end the conversation because you're frustrated," Ezra snaps back, trying to hold back his anger. "I can't even ask simple questions without you gettin’ angry. You can't just brush everythin’ off like it doesn't matter! We have a plan and a responsibility here!" Ezra's tone is stern now, and the intensity is clearly increasing in his voice.

 “No, you have a plan! A ridiculous plan that is going to get you killed and I’m not going to sit around and wait for that to happen!” You snap back, marching up to him angrily.

 "Are you listenin’ to yourself right now?" Ezra asks, his voice full of genuine passion. "You won't let me just ask a question about it without snappin’ at me! We're supposed to be on the same team, but you don't trust me at all. You don't listen to any of my ideas, and when I try to discuss a strategy, you storm off like a child!" Ezra's hands are clenched into fists by his side. The energy of the argument is clearly growing more intense as your joint anger builds.

 “So you’d rather, what, I just stay in place and listen to you go on and on about this plan that you haven’t even thought through fully yet?!” You yell back.

 "And you'd rather what, yell at me until I stop talkin’?" Ezra mocks back defensively. "We need a plan, and if you have any better ideas for doin’ this, then let's hear ‘em!” He crosses his arms and leans back to watch you scramble for a response. When you don’t have one, the corner of his lip quirks up into a smug grin. “Do you?? Or are we just gonna fight until one of us gives up?!" Ezra's eyes are burning with anger now, and his expression is a mask of raw emotion. The argument is becoming increasingly heated as you stare each other down.

 “I don’t give up!” You yell back, moving closer to him.

 “Yeah, clearly!” He yells. The words hang between you two as you both glare at each other, the energy around you both intense, angry, and frustrated. You sigh and take a breath, trying to get your shit mood under control.

 “Look, just get out! I’m done talking about this. My head is killing me, this day has been utter shit, and we’re obviously not getting anywhere with this.”

 Ezra takes a step back, his expression now showing hurt and a slight sense of betrayal. "Look, I'm only trying to-" Ezra starts to speak, but he's cut off by you telling him to get out. Ezra sighs in defeat and his expression shifts from hurt to anger again. He stares at you for a moment before throwing his arms up in the air. "Fine. I tried," he says in a huff. He starts to turn around before stopping and spinning back around to face you again. "Kevvassake, do you ever listen to anyone?"

 “No, I guess I don’t.” You mumble with clear sarcasm as you turn away from him.

 Ezra seems like he’s about to leave, still clearly angry, but then he turns back, marching up to you and turning you to face him. The forcefulness of that action makes you pause as he grabs you by the shoulders firmly.

 “What the hell??” You ask him.

 Ezra stares at you, seemingly not aware of his sudden show of aggression. He still appears angry, but now there's a sense of confusion as well. He looks conflicted and troubled, but there’s a set in his jaw. A determination. He suddenly moves his hold from your shoulders to your forearms and pulls you close, his eyes shifting from determination to passion. You can barely even process it before a pair of lips comes into contact with your cheekbone; just the lightest brush against your skin. But it’s enough to send a jolt through you, straight to your abdomen in a hot zing. Your eyes widen for a moment, mainly out of pure confusion. 

 You were almost sure he was about to kiss you. But before you can voice that, he moves. He pulls you closer again, his breath coming in quick and shallow as he kisses your cheek again, then your jaw, your chin, the side of your neck. The kisses are short and quick, but they still make you weak in the knees. Your hands go to his shoulders, grabbing onto him like an anchor. You feel his smile against your skin as he works his way back up to the underside of your ear, his facial scruff tickling, 

 "Goddess above, I've wanted to do that for a very long time..." Ezra mutters between kisses as he makes his way down again. He puts one of his hands on the back of your head and pulls you even closer to him. His lips begin softly sucking on your skin, and there’s the lightest threat of teeth, even if he doesn’t bite down.

 You shiver hard, your pulse quickening under his mouth. “Ez…” you gasp. “Ezra, hold on… you’re,” His tongue darts out and it feels so smooth and warm and impossibly soft. Your thighs clench. “Oh goddess above,”

 It gently flicks against the sensitive skin of your neck, his breath coming in raspy. He kisses your jaw, making his way up to your ear again. "Do you think you can keep quiet for just a little while?" Ezra purrs softly, and you can feel his hot breath. His hand begins to caress the side of your face, his fingers softly brushing against your temple. Ezra looks at you passionately - his eyes fixed on yours. As you meet them, you notice that they’re now darker than you’ve ever seen them, the pupil almost completely overtaking the iris.

 You groan softly, curling a hand into his hair. “I’m…. I just… I don’t understand. I know how you feel about me but I… god I wasn’t expecting-“

 "You feel it too, don't you?" Ezra asks with a smile, his voice tender. He moves one of his legs in between yours, and the urge to grind yourself against it is pathetic. He can tell too, can see the way your eyes flit down as you debate it for the smallest second. He leans into you, looking at your face with desire. He brings his knee right to the apex of your thighs and gently teases you, watching your mouth silently drop open. 

 “Oh… Ezra…” his name sounds like a devotion as you groan, “We-We shouldn’t be doing this. We can’t even hold a conversation right now.” You say with a breathless laugh, even as you pull him closer.

 Ezra looks at you for a moment, but that look is soon replaced with a devilish grin. "I think we can find a more suitable way to communicate," Ezra says with a smirk. He gazes at you with lust in his eyes. He now moves his lips down to your collarbone. He moves his knee away, and shoves your shorts and underwear aside, not even bothering to undress you as he uses two fingers to touch you. Your body almost freezes. 

 You gasp. “Ez!” You clamp a hand over your mouth as you realize that was a bit too loud in the now silence of the camp. He lets out a throaty, breathless laugh of his own, just a rough chuckle that makes you hyperaware of his chest against yours.

 "You really need to learn how to be quiet..." He whispers, his voice filled with desire. He moves his head a bit and kisses down the side of your neck again; his touch is softer, more delicate now. "I really wish you could see yourself at this moment," Ezra says in a gentle, yet playful tone. 

 He nudges you gently back and guides you over to the nearest wall of the tent, pinning you in place with his body. His other hand runs through your hair, tugging on it slightly as his fingers return eagerly between your thighs. "Oh, I can feel you too," Ezra whispers softly between kisses. “Ya feel that?” He asks, pulling back to meet your eyes while his touch never ceases. It even increases in both roughness and pace, making you groan again. He waits for a response, his eyes burning as he looks down at you. He moves your hand away from your mouth, a silent command for you to respond.

 “Y-Yes, I feel that, Ez.” His grin is triumphant, his eyes shining as you finally reveal how good he’s making you feel. He leans in again to mumble in your ear.

 "I want more..." he says in a pleading groan, his lips barely moving, "I want to touch you more than just this, darlin’. I want to touch you in ways that no one’s ever touched anyone before..." The sound of his fingers moving in and out of you distracts you for just a moment. "Tell me... tell me that you want me, too," Ezra whispers, his lips moving over yours, being careful not to make contact. He's so close, so, so, so close… But he pulls away at the last moment, making you almost cry out as you ache for his touch to return.

 Finally, in a longing sigh, you breathe out:

 “Please…” 

 His body trembles. His heart is beating so hard that he swears he can feel every blood cell pulsing throughout his veins. His kisses on your skin return but this time they’re hungry… starving. He has no words. All he knows is the scent of your hair, the sounds from your mouth, the taste of your flesh. The way his body is pressed against yours is driving him crazy. This feels so good, too good. He slowly brings the hand that was in your hair out, his index finger gently tracing a line along your collarbone. He smiles, feeling the soft skin underneath his fingertips. 

 You shiver at the touch of his fingertip, even that small delicate gesture making your body react. He’s touched you before but not like that. Not so gently but so clearly veiled with desire before.

 He feels your body reacting, and his heart rate increases. He wants more. He can't stop. Slowly, deliberately, he takes his time, enjoying every part of you. He gently slides his fingers down toward the small of your back, and as he feels the dip of your lower back, he presses his hand into the soft skin there. But he still doesn’t give you a chance to move. Not that that’s the first thing on your to-do list at the moment. He moves his hand lower, and he lets his fingers trace along the top of your thigh, coming just within a few inches of an area where no other man should touch you again.

 Your breathing hitches when he reaches that spot and you try to regain some composure but you can’t. A soft pathetic whimper escapes your mouth as your body already feels addicted to his touch. A sound you’ve never made around him before. 

 He feels you make the sound, and just like that, his brain stops working. He can't control himself anymore. He wants you, needs you, but he knows he should stop himself. He's pushing you into something he thinks you never thought you would want.

  "If it's too much... just tell me to stop, and I will... just say the word, and I'll back away. I'll stop, I promise you that.” Ezra says, his voice thick with lust and desire, his eyes locked on yours.

 “It’s not too much.” You respond. He grins again, a soft sound of almost disbelief escaping his throat. He runs his free hand down your back, to your hips.... and then, suddenly, slides it underneath your shirt.

 "Let me love you, yeah?" Ezra whispers. You nod, the tempo of his fingers inside you hitting all the right beats as you can’t do much in terms of talking, biting your lip so hard to shut yourself up you can almost taste blood. But all too soon your reasoning rears its raucous head, not letting you fully live in the moment. 

 “Ezra… I-I’m just confused.” You admit; your heartbeat is racing. “I don’t… I just don’t understand.” You subconsciously lick your lips, wishing he would give you a taste of him. As if reading your mind, he smiles and pulls away just a little to remove his shirt. 

 Unlike that day at the pool, you take full advantage of the sight, drinking in his skin. Your eyes drink in the exact tan, the various scars, the hair on his chest, and the happy trail leading down lower. Your own skin grows hot and you see his response in kind, turning that now-familiar shade of rose. He smirks and lets you ogle all you want, before he leans in, kissing your nose to direct your eyes back to his face,

 "We're both confused," Ezra says softly, his index finger coming up to trace the outline of your lips again. "But right now... right now is all we have, and I just want to be with you. Nothin’ else matters. This is ours, just for us, tonight. No one should know; no one has to interfere." 

 “Just for tonight?” Your tone is pensive, thinking as you look down for a moment. You shouldn’t agree to this. It would be career suicide. But he’s already said no one needs to know. 

 “This can just be stress relief.” He lifts your eyes to him again with just a tap on your chin. "And then we forget it ever happened,” Ezra asks, the excitement building in his voice. "Just for tonight, and then we never talk about it again... deal?" His hand drifts down again and your body immediately buzzes in anticipation as his fingers once again sneak their way into your underwear.

 “Deal.” 

 He smiles as you agree, feeling a wave of excitement and relief wash over him. He whispers into your ear as he comes closer, his breath warm against your skin.

 “Fuck, you’re so good for me," Ezra says. You're his, and he wants you more than anything else at this moment. You're his to love, to touch, to kiss, to taste. His face is buried into the soft skin of your neck, and he breathes you in deeply, just wanting as much of you as possible.

 You're all he wants. The taste of you, the smell of you, the heat of you, the feel of you against him. He speeds up his pace, giving it to you freely now as the sound of his fingers and your combined ragged breaths become the only sounds in the room.

 "You feel so good," Ezra whispers, his voice husky with desire. "So good."

 “O-Oh my god…” You haven’t been touched like this in ages. Your head rests against the wall and your eyes close as you don’t make one single attempt to stop him.

 Ezra watches your face, his eyes filled with want, desire, and lust. The feel of your skin against his fingertips is otherworldly, your body like fire in his hands. His breath is heavy, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath as he watches you and feels you against him. A slow smile spreads across Ezra's face, and he leans in, his body brushing against yours, his voice heavy and sultry as he breathes out.

 "So good..." he purrs, his fingers moving slower and more intimately.

 You moan at the feeling, “I swear to god if you tell anyone about this-“ Ezra smirks at your threat, but he doesn't stop what he's doing. In fact, he moves even slower as if just desperate to continue teasing you.

 "I won't tell anyone, don't worry." He says coyly. He takes a moment to try and compose himself, swallowing hard. "But Blessed Mother, you feel so soft..."

 “Oh fuck,” The rhythm of his fingers, his words. It’s all driving you crazy. You never expected anyone to make you feel like this, especially not Ezra. And yet, here you are. Completely at his mercy.

 Ezra chuckles at your sudden outburst, his fingers pausing for a split second until he picks up again, and this time his rhythm picks up faster.

 And as soon as he does that, your breathing rushes back in, and you let out an incredible moan. It escapes your throat against your own judgment, your head tilting back to face the ceiling of the tent. When he hears that, Ezra’s entire body sings, like something awakens in him. Something desperate to hear you make that exact sound again, no matter what he has to do. Your hips begin to move, chasing that rhythm, that delicious burn from his fingers as more moans follow the first.

 "That’s right," he says softly after a moment, his voice still a bit breathless, and his eyes are locked on yours, "Do you know how much you turn me on?" he asks in a low voice. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve ached to do this for you?” The tension in your body is building, building, building…

 He doesn't stop what he's doing. He's in control now, and he can see the tension building inside you. He can feel your body giving into it, and he can't help but feel a rush of power and excitement as he watches. He's made you want him, and there's no turning back now.

 He moves faster, his fingers picking up speed and intensity again. Another moan, louder than the first leaves your mouth and you tuck your face into his neck. You muffle the sounds you’re making by kissing and licking at his skin, causing him to shudder audibly in your ear. He tastes like fresh water and soap, the scent of his body wash filling your nose and making your mind dizzy.

 “Goddamn, the night you straddled me.” He continues, his voice dripping with desire. “Kevva be damned, I almost just took you right then and there.” He lets out a breathless, incredulous laugh at that. “Almost ripped your suit off right in that tower, almost bent you over the railin’. A-Almost made you mine right in the middle of camp.” Something halfway between a cry and a groan leaves your mouth and you squeeze his fingers, making him curse under his breath again. He feels the tension in your body building with each passing second, and his eyes darken with determination now.

 You turn your face towards him as if to kiss him, but he pulls back at the last possible second, instead kissing the dip under your ear to make up for it.

 “Not yet.” His voice is a low growl in your ear.

 “Wh-Why?” You ask, your voice needy and breathless as you try to hold yourself back from screaming.

 “Because I know this doesn't mean a damned thing.” His voice is almost angry as he pumps his fingers faster, and harder. He curls his fingers deep. You bite your lip hard as a muffled scream escapes you, your hips following his lead. “And I want that to matter. You understand, rook?” 

 You can’t even respond, you know if you do you’ll lose it so you nod against his shoulder furiously and he smiles. He gives you a moment to recover your composure, but he never stops his movement. You find it even in this haze and you release your lip from between your teeth and let yourself make noise again, trying to keep quiet but it quickly builds in volume and you muffle it with the skin of his shoulder. He can tell you're about to reach a breaking point. Your moans are constant now and your hips begin to falter in their rhythm, making him smile against your jaw. He knows how important this is and he keeps his pace perfectly, going silent for a full 30 seconds before,

 "You deserve this, sweetheart," he growls. “Let yourself have it.”

 It doesn’t take long at all and with a moan that morphs into a cry of his name, you break, your entire body tensing and relaxing as the pleasure washes over you from head to toe and back. Ezra grins as he watches, and when you cry out, his lips pull up into a genuine smile. He leans in closer, his smile filling his eyes as he looks at you.

 "Yeah… c’mon just like that…. good. You did s'good," he murmurs softly into your hairline, his voice filled with excitement, power, and a tenderness you didn’t expect. His hand rests in your hair, gently caressing your neck as you come down from your peak, his voice hushed as he praises you, his fingers stopping their rhythm slowly as he draws out your high for all it’s worth. 

 His touch grounds you, giving you something to anchor yourself with as your ecstasy morphs into bliss. Another, softer sound escapes your mouth as you close your eyes to regulate your breathing.

 Ezra watches, feeling relieved. Your face is flushed, your hair disheveled, but you look beautiful in his eyes. It's the first time he's seen you this way, this intimate, and he can't help but smile at the sight.

 "Are you okay?" Ezra asks, his voice gentle and caring. The look in his eyes is one of concern mixed with affection, and it warms your heart. When you nod, another shaky exhale escaping your mouth, he lets you go. He smiles one more time. “Good… sweet dreams.” He plants one final, tender but fierce kiss against your forehead before he leaves without another word. You can’t even stop him or beg him to come back and honestly, you don’t even know if you want to. One thing you do notice though: your headache is gone.

You spend the rest of the night thinking about it and… replaying it all in your head. Your mind is confused, turned on, and conflicted all at once. The way he smelled, the way he tasted, the way he moved.... the way he made you move. 

 Suffice it to say you don’t get much sleep that night.

****** 

WOOH, damn. Ok, hopefully this being another extra long chapter (not intentional) makes up for me not posting all month hahahaha...... Anyway, I had to take some time away from this cuz you all know how I am with spice if you read my stuff I love it but HATE writing it. Also, good news: I got into grad school! I start in two weeks so I have been CRUNCHING it to get everything in order and really have not had the time to write. Anyway, that’s it, thanks a million, hope you all enjoyed, and see you in the next one!  

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Read Chapter 8: Out of the Woods!

#Pedro Pascal #Jose Pedro Balmaceda Pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal x f!reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #ezra prospect #prospect 2018 #prospect film #ezra x reader #ezra x you #ezra x female reader #ezra x f!reader #ezra prospect fanfiction #crossposted on AO3 #writer darling #are you ever dreaming of me?

[lovesosweeet]

better left unsaid // cth

chapter zero

in which orion has leukemia, and calum doesn't know.

july 31st, 2018

LAX

orion

—

"Boys, time to board. Say your goodbyes." Matt, the band manager calls out. Really, he's only talking to Calum. Sierra and Crystal are joining the band for the start of the tour, while I'm the only one staying in LA.

Calum pulls me tighter into his chest, smoothing over the back of my hair. I'm crying and can feel wet splotches on his sweatshirt where my tears have fallen. I squeeze him as tight as I can, wishing more than anything that the situation was different.

"I'll see you when I get back," he says, his eyes swimming with a few tears he'd never let fall. "I love you."

I can't bring myself to lie and say he'll see me. I can lie by omission, but flat out lying is harder. Words just get caught in my throat. "I love you." There are a lot of other things I'd like to say, but I leave them unsaid, packed away in my brain, where they should be... where they won't hurt anyone except for me.

He peels back from our embrace just enough to kiss me. He wipes away my tears with his thumb and gives me a small smile. "You're the prettiest girl I've ever seen, even when you're crying."

I blush and scrunch up my nose. "Flattery isn't getting you anywhere today, babe." Cal playfully recoils a bit, acting like that bruised his ego. "I love you. Go, board. I'll be cheering you on every night."

Calum kisses me once more and I try to memorize every detail of this moment. I try to ignore the sinking feeling in my gut that's begging me to wonder if this will be our last kiss. I can't think like that. Not yet, anyway. I memorize the way his chapped, but still so soft lips feel against mine and the weight of his hands on my cheeks.

"I love you so much. I'll call you when we land, okay?" He plants a kiss on my nose. "Did I mention I love you?"

I smile—a real, toothy smile. I even roll my eyes a little. Even in moments like these, he still finds ways to make me happy. "No, don't think so."

He feigns fake hurt. "I did!"

"Go." I gently push his chest.

Calum sighs. "I'm gonna miss—"

"Cal, mate, we've really gotta go," Ash comes up behind him and puts his hand on Calum's shoulder. He gives me a sad smile. I make eye contact with him and try to telepathically say 'don't forget your promise.'

"It's not easy to say goodbye to the love of your life, dude!" Calum yells to Ash. It feels like stab in my chest.

"She also literally just told you to go!"

"I'm gonna miss you too, babe. Now go!" I quickly peck him on the lips one final time before I unwrap my arms from around him and take three steps back. Cal looks at me sadly. "Go!" I urge again, laughing through my tears.

He slumps his shoulders a bit and ruffles his hand through his hair. "Fine, okay, I'll go."

I blow him a kiss and watch him shuffle sadly to the exit of the fancy private suite LAX had prepared for the band. I then realize everyone else is still here, waiting for their chance to say goodbye to me.

The next few moments are just more hugs and I'll miss you's, Crystal and Sierra giving me empathetic gazes and arm squeezes. I wish the boys luck and usher them to follow Calum.

"Go, go, go, I love you all and will miss you but you're going to Japan for crying out loud! Go have fun!"

Mike and Luke, along with their girlfriends and the rest of the band's crew, leave the room, but Ash stays behind. He pulls me into a bone crushing hug as soon as it's just the two of us. Before I know it I can feel his body quiver as he cries.

"Ash, please don't," I whisper, not wanting to start sobbing.

I'm met with sniffles and gasps and he tries to pull it together enough to say something.

"I love you, O. We all do. I know I promised, it's just—"

I step back from our hug.

"No. You promised." My words are harsh, cold almost. I'm not sure how I'm managing to look him dead in the eye and not crumbling in this moment, but I'm sternly staring into Ash's eyes like an angry teacher.

Ashton gives me what might be the world's saddest smile. "I know. I promised. I won't break our promise; it's not my place to do it. But god, O, I wish you'd tell him."

I look away. "I know you do. But I'm not going to. Maybe after the tour, we'll have to see how treatment goes."

He stops and starts saying something in reply a few times before Matt pops his head back into the room. "Ash, she's not even your girlfriend, wrap it up my man."

I smile at Matt before he exits again.

"I love you. Call me if you need anything — and I mean it. Anything."

I nod, knowing I'm not planning on sharing any of the nitty gritty with Ashton. I don't want him to worry more than he already will be worrying. "Of course. Love you too, now go!"

As Ashton leaves me in silence, I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. I pull it out to see a text from Calum.

From: bass boy 💕

i love love love you. i wish you could come with us, maybe next tour? you say the word and i'll fly you out wherever and whenever you want. i miss you already. xxx

read chapter one

—

a/n: uh, is this thing on?

hi. my name is zoe and i wrote a fanfic called "maybe" like 5 years ago (among many others) on wattpad but then i deleted my wattpad 3 years ago, and now i guess i'm re-entering the fanfic world? apparently?? anyway, i'm rewriting "maybe" and that's what this is but this time on tumblr bc no one is on wattpad anymore it seems.

this will feature cal's POV and bounce back in forth in time/place but i'll try to make it as clear as i can!!!

i love you all and thank you for being here <3

let me know if you have any thoughts or remember my old fics hehe

#5sos #5 seconds of summer #luke hemmings #calum hood #ashton irwin #fanfic #fanfiction #5sos fanfic #calum imagine #calum fanfic #cth #5sos fanfiction #calum 5sos

[stormblessed95]

We need to talk about Jimin's reaction to JK mentioning a marriage proposal. Although i dont think he was actually angry but he seemed a bit annoyed, and confronting Jk right there on live i was like🧍‍♀️😳. Also round of applause for JK handling it like a boss, he said 👏i👏just👏saw👏it. Hobi and Tae reactions is me when a couple start bickering.

I was so so happy that we got another Vhopeminkook live after a concert! They said "it's always us 4 hanging out" and they just keep proving it! They are so cute 😭

And AS I SOMETIMES DO, I'm going to go ahead and use this to talk about the whole Wlive. Lol except imma need someone to teach me how to link lives from weverse because the app isn't giving me a copy link option??! Why? Regardless, until I figure that out (preferably I can do this from the apps) here is the full live link from youtube

And istg they are so funny. Not even a full minute in and we have jikook bickering over marriage proposals 🤣 Yoongi marry me is a standard joke at this point. Lmfao Jimin even jokingly teased Yoongi after the grammys about finally accepting ARMYs proposals. But wow were the vibes during this one different! Lovemaze did miss on their trans here below right after JK says he say "jungkook marry me" hobi repeats it and JK squints his eyes at the camera and jokingly goes "you want it" and Jimin looks genuinely like "uhm. No sir" for a second there before they just start bickering in a more lighthearted manner. Lmfao like you said, momentarily annoyed before laughing it off and teasing JK about it, perhaps drawing a boundary line about accepting rogue marriage proposals from fans lmfaoooo

He wouldn't let it go!! Lmfao JK immediately being like "nah babe, no. I was just saying I saw it not that I WANTED to marry anyone else!" It was giving "it's just army. You don't need to be jealous of army" 🤣🤣🤣 Hobi and Tae were so funny too just laughing. It's peak friends of the couple behavior as they bicker over amusing couple shit. Lmfao very lovers quarrel of them

Bonus, it cracks me UP that we now have BOTH of them getting a tad bit defensive over the other getting fan proposals in front of them 🤣 JK glaring after hearing a fan shout "jimin marry me" in 2018 and Jimin wanting to know how JK really feels about it all in 2022 🤣

Also everyone laughing so hard because Jimin said what sounded like a curse word and his rushed explanation that it wasn't that word, he wasn't cursing! Lol the panic! Followed by the jokes that they would see news articles the next day about how BTS Jimin cursed in a livestream 🤣 followed by the same jokes when Tae misspoke too. They are so funny! They also spoke about things they wanted to do differently (like during Idol) but were told no. An ARMY shared a video of what they had planned on doing originally when they did it during rehearsals if you wanted to see. And Jimin being silly off camera and the way all 3 of them were watching him 😭 imagine being loved this much by the people around you!

And we progress further into the live and Jimin informs us all that Jungkookie has very strong farts 🤣🤣🤣🤣 lmfao I'm dying! All the Busan satori jikook are using during the vlive during the teasing. I bet being in their hometown is bringing it out in them more! Lol especially with how whenever they speak to each other in these little side conversations, they just automatically casually slip into informal speech we well. JK slipping into satori asking Jimin to scoot over further on the couch so he has room

It's always the tone of voice with these two! Jimin turned JKs Ramen bowl around when he was mid bite since the label was showing, but JK thought that Jimin wanted more to eat so he was just automatically trying to hand it off to him. So sweet. And again, with the informal tones. JK asking if he is free to eat the food "over there" and Jimin saying he can and JK just replying with the cutest and most informal 고마워 (thank you). Jimin taking another big bite of the Ramen and I guess it was an extra spicy bite because he made the cutest "no thank you" face and immediately handed it off to Jungkook who took it for him. Lol it's not anything major but it gave very boyfriend-y vibes

Jhope speaking so meaningfully and asking armys to trust them and talking about the concert and Jimin just nodding and clapping to give support in the oddest and cutest way. Lol and JK just copying his little claps for Hobi 🤣

Followed by their funny dance moves together which is YET AGAIN ANOTHER INSIDE JOKE they share from a show they watched together. It's CLEARLY something they do alot. Watch shows and movies together and continually reference them. Lol an adorable habit. Which they followed up by making silly/knowing faces at each other. But it begs the question. Was this look exchanged due to their little jokey joke dance? Or was it about what Tae was saying about future concerts? What do yall know???

And JK looks so endeared and giggly over how loudly Jimin is slurping his food off camera 🤣 Tae "aren't you slurping too loud?" 🤣🤣

Jhope telling a story about how once when he went out to eat, the shop owner just kept talking about how RM came there once too 🤣 Jimin telling the funniest story about how when he was asked if he was BTS Jimin, he said no. Lmfao and Tae and JK sharing that they wanted to go out after getting to Busan this trip but were too tired and didn't do so. But Jikook DID both get to go home and see their families. Which makes me SO HAPPY. Jimin saying his family made him Seaweed soup for his birthday. JK saying he also went home and his mom also made him Seaweed soup. Lmfao Jimin laughing and reenacting the scene of Mrs. Jeon giving JK Seaweed soup for JIMINS birthday. (Which is a very cultural thing, you get Seaweed soup on YOUR birthday with YOUR family, you don't eat it on other people's birthdays. So it GREATLY speaks to the vast level of closeness between families, aka, the Jeons basically considering Jimin family, someone whose birthday they celebrate in such meaningful ways, even if he isn't present at the time. You can read Dallogas post about it.) And JK speaking informally to Jimin about the soup too. Just so much to consider! Lol

It's honestly the awkward silence that follows that whole exchange for me before the tension breaking with Jimin getting awkward about it and pretending to leave. With everyone's abrupt awkward laughter and Jhope changing the subject IMMEDIATELY to JKs glasses thanks to armys questions in the comments 🤣🤣🤣 boy they do a lot when Jikook say something out of pocket, don't they? 😂 Of course we get Jimin pointing out Jimin o'clock here too, and JK confirming it! And both Tae and JK saying they will try to join Jimin on one of his next weekly lives he has been doing. JK confirming twice that he will try to make it to a live! Me: trying not to get my hopes up too high but really hoping! Vmin, jikook and/or vminkook lives?! 😍

This was such a cute live. I'm so glad they hoped on together for a bit to just hang out and also double confirm lots that this isn't their last concert, they will be back and to continue trusting them. And tease about how Jins new solo is super good. I'm excited!!

#jikook #kookmin #vhopeminkook are the cutest #221015 jikook #jikook vlive #jikook vlives #jikook in 2022 #domestic jikook #jikook seaweed soup

[qqueenofhades]

Hi Hilary! I'm really enjoying and appreciating your US election coverage and I'm probably being an idiot foreigner here who is missing something (I've been following casually but it's not my system), but you and other Democrats seem pretty positive and I don't quite get it. On the BBC News checker the Democrats and Republicans are exactly neck and neck for the Senate and the Republicans seem way ahead (203-187) for the House. Believe me, I'd love to feel positive about something political (I'm English so...lol) but I feel like I'm missing something in the data. Totally understand if you'd rather not answer this but thought I'd ask as you seem to understand it and are good at explaining it!!

Listen, you have to understand that the narrative for MONTHS was that Republicans were going to absolutely crush us. The House was supposed to be gone by 9pm ET on election night and the Senate possibly soon after. The media water-carried for the GOP as hard as it possibly could, midterm elections for a first-term incumbent president are always bruising (Obama lost 63 seats in 2010 and we didn't get the House back until 2018), and we are dealing with high inflation, economic pain, Biden's low approval numbers, literal fascists, and so much more. This was a setup for the Republicans to roll right in and pick up where they left off in 2020. They nominated tons of crazy, dangerous, fascist election deniers openly promising to permanently fix elections in their state if they won. It was BAD.

Against that, the fact that is a razor-thin, largely uncalled race in terms of major factors, ie Congressional control, is nothing short of astonishing. The House is looking iffy, but if it slips Republican by a tiny majority, there's no claiming a triumphant red wave, and while it will absolutely waste everyone's time in performative nonsense and doing nothing and passing garbage resolutions, it won't be able to make much of that actually stick. If Democrats keep the Senate (which they are... probably likely to do, especially as Fetterman's win in Pennsylvania looms large), they can at least continue to confirm judges and shut down the rabid GOP-y House from doing too much. They need to win 2 of 3 in Nevada, Arizona, and Georgia to do this. Nevada depends on mail-in ballots. The Democrat Mark Kelly seems likely to hang on in Arizona (knock on wood). Democrat Raphael Warnock is in the lead in Georgia, but will need to win his narrow election all over again because of a horrible racist Georgia law saying that a candidate can only win outright if they get 50% in the first round, and he is just under that.

So yes: it is narrow, contingent, and scary, but the fact that we are in this position is genuinely astonishing, considering that everyone figured the Democrats were historic amounts of toast. Election deniers for governor/SOS have almost all lost (still waiting on Nevada and Arizona) and thus far, MAGA candidates have conceded. This is a good thing for democracy, as it ups the chances that control of elections will be maintained, Democrats will hold key swing state legislatures, and more. They also did especially well in several states (Michigan, Colorado, Pennsylvania) and made major flips of governor's mansions. Literally none of this would have happened in a red wave.

Anyway, yes. I wanted things to go better and for us to win some races we didn't win, and otherwise optimistically hope that half the country wouldn't vote for fascist forced-birtherism because wah wah gas prices. Unfortunately, they still did (mostly white people, because you know). But considering the absolute worst case scenario, where we were basically looking at the effective end of democracy in America and election denialists holding key posts in advance of the 2024 elections, yeah, a lot of people are very relieved right now.

#anonymous #ask #politics for ts

[nighttime-tea-party]

soooo idk who else to ask but like what happened to all the big names during the sebaciel renaissance?? I’ve kinda been off tumble pretty much since nsfw ban, but what happened to blogs like chromehopelite and ciel’s lingerire or vexing young master? Im sure there’s others I’m missing I just can’t remember but I feel like no one uploads on the sebaciel ao3 tag as much as it used to in like 2017 and 2018. hopefully the fandom will come alive again with a new season?

Hello! I have no idea what happened to Vexing Young Master but as for the others, as far as I know, Ciels Lingerie got obliterated again and again, both here and on twitter, and I guess at one point they gave up. Their latest twitter seems to have been hacked by crypto bros.

Chromehoplite is still around, just not in the fandom anymore. And who can blame them, considering the amount of vile messages they got on a daily basis.

To be honest, I've been active in the tumblr fandom for... Idk how long, before BoC, and it was the most prolific back when BoC aired. After that, it's been a downward spiral. It got a bit refreshment through BoM and BotA but not in the same way. Back during BoM, the fandom felt huge.

I think it's a natural development. Manga fandoms are most active when there's a fairly recent tv anime adaptation (movies just don't do it like tv shows). There hasn't been one in a long time, and additionally, we've had to put up with our main characters virtually missing from the manga for about half a decade now. The twin reveal was that long ago!

So I completely understand that the fandom has become the way it is now. I consider myself crazy for still sticking around the way I do (but I have no plans of changing that) but most people aren't as weird about Kuroshitsuji as I am.

That being said, I also believe that the fandom will have a real renaissance when the show airs again. I never expected that twitter-borne renaissance to hold on anyway because it was mostly just born out of spite against antis (which is valid but not enough to give people the motivation to stick with a manga that's barely progressing over the course of years). Chrome and the others were there before the twitter renaissance and they were there after it too to some extent, but I guess lives go on, priorities and interests change and also, fandom can just be really nasty and detrimental to your mental health sometimes.

Maybe we'll see some familiar people come back when the new show airs, who knows!

I hope my answer helped!

P.S.: from the perspective of a creator myself, the disappearance of popular creators coincides with a strong decrease of engagement with authors' and artists' works. You could say it's a hen and egg kind of situation but I think the common denominator is the lack of progress in the manga and everyone's fatigue with everything. In any case, from a creator's POV it does feel kind of discouraging sometimes when you feel like your skill has increased over time but people don't interact with it as much as they used to. Like, I know it's the size of the fandom but I sometimes think, "has my art gotten that bad?" and I mean I don't draw for attention or else I'd draw Genshin or sth like that but it is a little difficult to process anyway. Sorry for the rant.