#I tend to think his day job is something kind of boring and not glamorous at all but he's very good at it and it pays well

[canisalbus]

If your still undecided about what modern au Machete would have as a job, I would like to nominate him as a niche fashion model. Not like a popular celebrity, because he's not conventionally attractive, but he has that aura. He can Walk (in heels!!!)

I want to give him an excuse to wear all different kinds of fancy clothes, basically. He deserves to be dressed to the nines and glare down at an audience from the runway.

.

#modern Machete is into fashion without a doubt #enough to dream about being a designer or a model or anyone in those circles #but I'm not sure he'd have the personality for it #I think you need to be at least passably sociable as a model right? #bold enough to put yourself out there but also humble and cooperative so people will want to work with you #and you have to be adaptable and stress-resistant to deal with long shooting days and travel #you gotta let hair stylists and makeup artists touch you and be somewhat ok with dressing and undressing with other people in the room #I tend to think his day job is something kind of boring and not glamorous at all but he's very good at it and it pays well #and he uses some of those paychecks to buy himself nice things to wear #but it was very sweet of you to think he could be a model he would've loved to hear that #answered #anonymous

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Okay so I have this idea of the boys in the modern world! Like what kind of profession/ college course would Azul, Malleus, Leona, Lilia, and Idia would take? Some modern au headcanons with them please!

Curiouser and Curiouser...

Idia Shroud...

...would be an e-girl Twitch streamer that sells his bath water a famous video game let’s player or streamer, maybe even a professional gamer.

But the type that doesn’t show his face, or uses some kind of prop to censor his face whenever he happens to be on camera.

His online personality and his real life personality are so different...! Idia turns down invitations to conventions and fan meets because he worries about how his followers and fellow content creators. will perceive those very different sides to him.

He still makes bank off of his merch though.

I can see him taking college courses for tech-related things so he always has an excuse to hole up in his room and avoid normies. Computer science, video game design, etc.

He does well in school, but if he ever needs to give a speech/presentation or do a group assignment, well...Idia’s gonna bomb it. Thanks a lot, crippling social anxiety.

Disturbs his room mates and his neighbors constantly because of his video game raging late into the night.

The type to show up to lectures in his pajamas if he shows up at all.

Looks like he has gotten zero sleep all the time even if he slept for a full day and then some.

Wears headphones everywhere in public and blasts music at maximum volume so everyone around him can hear it and knows that he doesn’t want to be disturbed.

Llilia Vanrouge...

...is a child daycare worker or a teacher. On weekends, he moonlights as the lead guitarist and vocalist for a death metal band (though he never brings this up in parent-teacher conferences)

He studied history in college, but he discovered his love for childcare when he was tutoring high school students in history as part of a volunteering program...so Lilia changed career paths!

Don’t get him wrong, he still loves history and he’ll tell the little tots under his care all about the most interesting tidbits of it.

But everyone loves him, from his coworkers to the parents to the children under his care. Lilia is just loads of fun--but he knows when he needs to dial back and be serious, too.

Back in school, he was always getting into trouble for small pranks. Spooking the other students, drawing on school property with chalk, etc.--nothing that would get him expelled.

Kind of an easy-going student. If he did well, that’s great. If he did’t do well, that’s also fine! He goes with the flow and doesn’t sweat the details.

Lilia worked really hard for his degree though, especially since he changed it abruptly into something so different.

He volunteered a lot during his studies, wishing to give back to the community and to be with the children even before he had his degree.

Leona Kingscholar...

...is an unemployed rich kid living off of daddy’s money. He’s the second son to some big business or even actual real life royalty.

Have you see how lazy this man is? Of course he doesn’t have a job.

Leona only attends college because his parents threatened to completely cut him off if he didn’t. (”Your older brother Farena went to college, found himself a nice girl, and got himself a stable job that pays well; why don’t you too?”)

Probably got in on an athletic scholarship. What a chad.

He studies liberal arts, English literature, or women’s studies (because he thinks those subjects are easiest to pass with minimum effort and because he respects women).

Very sleepy boi. Falls asleep during the first few seconds of every single lecture (if he’s even there on time), and it is impossible to wake him up.

Shows up late to class. Like...five minutes before the end of class late.

He falls asleep in the most random public places all over campus.

The master at pulling all-nighters.

Most likely sleeps around (both literally and metaphorically).

Popular with the ladies, even if he doesn’t go out of his way to pursue many. Leona won’t force himself onto them, but he won’t say no if they proposition him and he’s feeling bored enough. Might as well have some fun while he’s forced to be here, right?

Has zero idea where he is going in life. Don’t we all?

Malleus Draconia...

...studies architecture, or art history.

He’s so fascinated by the design of buildings and how styles have changed so much over time.

Tends to daydream. This, paired with his resting bitch face and inimidating aura, makes everyone fear him.

Malleus likes to walk around town and the college campus just to enjoy the buildings. Because of this, his peers think of him as “the local scary-looking weirdo”.

Comments like that hurt him, but Malleus tends to bottle up his emotions and be sad about it in the comfort of his personal quarters.

Malleus tries showing up to publicized college events and every club meeting he can think of, but people tend to keep their distance from him.

Probably phones up his family every other night just to check on them and hear their voices. He’s very lonely...

Has a hard time finding a job because many people are intimidated by how he looks. Ends up overwhelming many interviewers.

Probably works part-time at a discreet WcDonald’s location. Nothing glamorous or high-paying, but Malleus doesn’t expect anything like that while he’s still a student. Plus, he is still thankful for the job experience.

Lands a job at a big building firm after college; quickly rises through the ranks and becomes the CEO. All of his haters must be jealous now, huh?

Still, Malleus feels no ill will towards them. He hopes he can be friends with them at the college reunions.

Azul Ashengrotto...

...works as a drug dealer barista and manager of a coffee shop or cafe. If you want to get darker, he runs a casino (where everything is rigged in his favor) and/or is a mafia lord (just look at Octavinelle’s aesthetic) by night.

He dual-majors in business and law because his brain is just that large.

Straight A student, in the honors program, and a teacher’s pet. Most likely a full ride scholarship as well.

Also the president of student government or the head of a club--Azul has stacked his resume with achievements and titles. Employers will be tripping over themselves to hire him.

Azul applies what he’s studying in college into his business (albeit in less-than-savory ways) to maximize his profits and to scare of unruly customers.

He has a lot of friends in college, but he’s not particularly close to any of them.

Binge eats when he’s stressed.

Do not bring up school prior to college life to him; Azul will get war flashbacks to the time when he was bullied. He refuses to talk about his past, and if you keep persisting, he will get back at you.

Despises group projects; he ends up doing all of the hard work. He’s super passive aggressive about it.

Snitches on anyone that crosses him, even slightly. Azul is very petty. Oh, you forgot to return that pencil that he so generously lent you for the exam? Well, prepare to have your embarrassing photos from that one crazy party leaked to the college newspaper.

#twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #Azul Ashengrotto #Leona Kingscholar #Idia Shroud #Malleus Draconia #Lilia Vanrouge #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland requests #twisted wonderland scenarios #curiouser and curiouser

[somegirlsnerdywords2]

Anime i’ve Watched

That begin with a D (Part 1)!

Yep this is how i’m going to bring over all the anime and manga i’ve watched and posted about on the old blog. It’s not so detailed but it will have to do. Anything new I watch or read from this point on will have their own posts.

Dance with Devils:

Genres: reverse harem, demons, supernatural, romance, vampire, shoujo

Synopsis: Ritsuka Tachibana has always been a good student, so she is completely shocked when she is suddenly summoned by the student council. Even more, they seem to think of Ritsuka as a troublemaker. Led by the handsome Rem Kaginuki, the student council—also consisting of Urie Sogami, Shiki Natsumizaka and Mage Nanashiro—tries to question her, but it soon becomes clear that they have ulterior motives.However, this is only the beginning. When her mother gets kidnapped, her life is turned upside down, and Ritsuka gets drawn into a world of vampires and devils. Both groups are searching for the "Grimoire," a forbidden item allowing its owner to rule the world. The return of her brother Lindo from overseas gives her hope, but even he appears to be hiding something. In a world filled with secrets, Ritsuka questions whom she can trust in this dark musical tale, while the handsome and dangerous members of the student council compete for her attention.

[Written by MAL Rewrite]

My Rating: 8/10

Finished airing in 2015 with a total of 12 episodes. 

My Thoughts: One of the better animes in the reverse harem genre. Little bit of fantasy, drama, romance. This one was actually a musical... or at the very least had a notable amount of musical numbers throughout the series. I do love me a good musical. To be fair this anime had some big issues, though if you’re just looking for a bit of halfway decent reverse harem fun this should suit you just fine!

Darling in the FranXX:

Genres: action, drama, mecha, romance, sci-fi

Synopsis:  In the distant future, humanity has been driven to near-extinction by giant beasts known as Klaxosaurs, forcing the surviving humans to take refuge in massive fortress cities called Plantations. Children raised here are trained to pilot giant mechas known as FranXX—the only weapons known to be effective against the Klaxosaurs—in boy-girl pairs. Bred for the sole purpose of piloting these machines, these children know nothing of the outside world and are only able to prove their existence by defending their race.

Hiro, an aspiring FranXX pilot, has lost his motivation and self-confidence after failing an aptitude test. Skipping out on his class' graduation ceremony, Hiro retreats to a forest lake, where he encounters a mysterious girl with two horns growing out of her head. She introduces herself by her codename Zero Two, which is known to belong to an infamous FranXX pilot known as the "Partner Killer." Before Hiro can digest the encounter, the Plantation is rocked by a sudden Klaxosaur attack. Zero Two engages the creature in her FranXX, but it is heavily damaged in the skirmish and crashes near Hiro. Finding her partner dead, Zero Two invites Hiro to pilot the mecha with her, and the duo easily defeats the Klaxosaur in the ensuing fight. With a new partner by his side, Hiro has been given a chance at redemption for his past failures, but at what cost? [Written by MAL Rewrite]

My Rating: 6/10

Finished airing in 2018 with a total of 24 episodes. 

My Thoughts: Ohhhh how I wanted to love this one. After Kill la Kill I have the highest of hopes for anything Trigger releases but unfortunately they tend to fall short of my expectations... such a shame. The art, animation and themes were fantastic but that’s about where the good times end in all honesty. I will never forgot just HOW they operate the mechs.... those images will forever be burned into my memories.... so thanks for that I guess?? This series had it’s moments and wasn’t a complete dumpster fire but overall it just wasn’t anywhere near the masterpiece I hoped it would be. The disappointment factor probably took a few points off in the end. 

Deadman Wonderland:

Genres: action, sci-fi, shounen, horror

Synopsis: It looked like it would be a normal day for Ganta Igarashi and his classmates—they were preparing to go on a class field trip to a certain prison amusement park called Deadman Wonderland, where the convicts perform dangerous acts for the onlookers' amusement. However, Ganta's life is quickly turned upside down when his whole class gets massacred by a mysterious man in red. Framed for the incident and sentenced to death, Ganta is sent to the very jail he was supposed to visit.But Ganta's nightmare is only just beginning.The young protagonist is thrown into a world of sadistic inmates and enigmatic powers, to live in constant fear of the lethal collar placed around his neck that is slowed only by winning in the prison's deathly games. Ganta must bet his life to survive in a ruthless place where it isn't always easy to tell friend from foe, all while trying to find the mysterious "Red Man" and clear his name, in Deadman Wonderland.

[Written by MAL Rewrite]

My Rating: 6/10

Finished airing in 2011 with a total of 12 episodes. 

My Thoughts: Just go check out the completed manga is you’re interested in this series and watch the anime for more content. Pretty cool premise with decent art and music but is incomplete and very unlikely to receive another season.

Death Note:

Genres: mystery, police, psychological, supernatural, thriller, shounen

Synopsis: A shinigami, as a god of death, can kill any person—provided they see their victim's face and write their victim's name in a notebook called a Death Note. One day, Ryuk, bored by the shinigami lifestyle and interested in seeing how a human would use a Death Note, drops one into the human realm. High school student and prodigy Light Yagami stumbles upon the Death Note and—since he deplores the state of the world—tests the deadly notebook by writing a criminal's name in it. When the criminal dies immediately following his experiment with the Death Note, Light is greatly surprised and quickly recognizes how devastating the power that has fallen into his hands could be. With this divine capability, Light decides to extinguish all criminals in order to build a new world where crime does not exist and people worship him as a god. Police, however, quickly discover that a serial killer is targeting criminals and, consequently, try to apprehend the culprit. To do this, the Japanese investigators count on the assistance of the best detective in the world: a young and eccentric man known only by the name of L. [Written by MAL Rewrite]

My Rating: 9/10

Finished airing in 2007 with a total of 37 episodes. 

My Thoughts: If you’re an anime fan and haven’t at least heard of Death Note you may have been living under a rock. Or maybe the only reason you know this title is because of that dumpster fire of a live action western remake... if so I am so so sorry. Strong beginning with an alright end. A great psychological series overall though. Unique and iconic. 

Death Parade: 

Genres: game, mystery, psychological, drama, thriller

Synopsis:  After death, there is no heaven or hell, only a bar that stands between reincarnation and oblivion. There the attendant will, one after another, challenge pairs of the recently deceased to a random game in which their fate of either ascending into reincarnation or falling into the void will be wagered. Whether it's bowling, darts, air hockey, or anything in between, each person's true nature will be revealed in a ghastly parade of death and memories, dancing to the whims of the bar's master. Welcome to Quindecim, where Decim, arbiter of the afterlife, awaits! Death Parade expands upon the original one-shot intended to train young animators. It follows yet more people receiving judgment—until a strange, black-haired guest causes Decim to begin questioning his own rulings. [Written by MAL Rewrite]

My Rating: 9/10

Finished airing in 2015 with a total of 12 episodes. 

My Thoughts: Now this was an interesting one! Here we have the concept of death in game form. Each episode a new player is introduced and our leading pair takes them through their chosen game. Morality, mystery and a dynamic leading pair are what drive this character driven series. You’re sure to experience a wide range of emotions while watching this anime and the opening theme was pretty good as well. Why not give it a go if it sounds like your kind of thing!?

Denki-gai no Honya-san:

Genres: comedy, seinen, slice of life

Synopsis:  Umio is a shy kid who just started his part time job at a manga store smack dab in the middle of the city. But his lifestyle isn't as glamorous as the neon lights that illuminate the city. Umio's closest friends are his co-workers who are all unique characters, to say the least, and although they're nice people, they have their quirks. They are a tight knit group of friends, have nicknames for each other and spend their weekends inside, sheltered from the extravagant scene happening on the outside. (Source: MU)

My Rating: 10/10

Finished airing in 2014 with a total of 12 episodes. 

My Thoughts: Something light after this unusually heavy themed list. A lovable cast of characters drive this situational comedy and it’s an abosulte joy to watch each and every one of the antics they manage to get up to. A great series to bang out on a day when you aren’t feeling so great and need a little something to lighten your mood. You’re unlikely to find any deep life lessons here but it’s sure to tickle your funny bone. 

Devilman: Crybaby:

Genres: action, demons, horror, supernatural, ONA

Synopsis:  Devils cannot take form without a living host. However, if the will of an individual is strong enough, they can overcome the demon and make its power their own, becoming a Devilman. Weak and unassuming, Akira Fudou has always had a bleeding heart. So when his childhood friend Ryou Asuka asks for his help in uncovering devils, Akira accepts without hesitation. However, to Akira's surprise, the place they go to is Sabbath: an immoral party of debauchery and degeneracy. Amidst bloodshed and death, demons possess the partiers, turning their bodies into grotesque monsters, and begin wreaking havoc. In a reckless attempt to save his best friend, Akira unwittingly merges with the devil Amon and becomes a Devilman, gaining the power to defeat the remaining demons. Though it grants him great power, this new partnership awakens an insatiable and primeval part of Akira. Having the body of a devil but the same crybaby heart, Akira works alongside Ryou, destroying those that harm humanity and his loved ones. [Written by MAL Rewrite]

My Rating: 4/10

A 10 episode ONA that finished airing in 2018

My Thoughts: And we’re back at it with the dark stuff... I was not a fan. The art.animation had some real cool moments as did the music but it was just a bit much in my opinion. Rushed and nonsensical with characters I couldn’t care less about. Gratuitous violence and nudity. To be fair there are plenty who enjoyed this anime, unfortunately for all of you I was not one of them.

#dance with devils #anime #darling in the franxx #deadman wonderland #death note #death parade #denki-gai no honya-san #devilman: crybaby

[kpopfanfictrash]

Operation: Intelligence

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Hoseok / Reader

Word Count: 2,819

AU: Spy 

Dialogue Prompt: “Not the time for a costume change!” (slightly tweaked to fit with dialogue lol)

↳ part of my AU drabble game

“So.” Bored, you glanced between the two men before you. “This is a summer camp. For spies.”

One of the men winced. The other remained perfectly still, his mahogany hair perfect under the blunt, fluorescent lighting. You always noticed the lighting first. Lighting, then people, then scenery – in that order.

As though you’d said something funny, the first man smiled. “Ah, no. We prefer the term intelligence operative to spy. Has a nicer ring to it, you see?”

The other man didn’t move. He simply watched from behind his dark-colored glasses. There was no label to the lenses, no brand name in order to be instantly recognizable.

Of course, their kind would prefer the term intelligence operative. Stifling an eye roll, you chose not to respond. Spy, intelligence operative, hit man, criminal – whatever they chose to call themselves, it didn’t matter to you. Their trade wasn’t glamorous, no matter what modern movies and novels would have people believe. Growing up on the streets with parents who were grifters at best, thieves and con artists at worst, you knew the cops were never your friends.

You were only a few years into adulthood when you packed both your little sister and yourself into a hotwired car, sped from their driveway and began a new life. Your parents’ adventures had thrilled you when you were younger, but once you grew up, all the fun disappeared. There were only so many times you could come home from school to a threat by some thug named Benny insisting your parents owed him or his employer money.

As soon as you left their driveway, you vowed never to return and yet, here you were.

A liar, betraying the vow you’d once made.

Twisting both hands beneath the desk, you let no trace of emotion cloud your features. Slipping into the lessons you learned in childhood proved astonishingly easy. 

Observe, but don’t react. Deduce what others do, then adjust your behavior. Don’t reveal your intentions, but only show others what they wish to see.

The second man at the table seemed to exude a similar philosophy. Admittedly, he did it in much better clothing than yours. His suit was impeccable; double-breasted with a handkerchief pressed to its pocket as though it had been born there. Maybe it had been; maybe it was sewn into his suit, as firm as the stick shoved up his ass.

Your lips twitched as you suppressed a smile. The mahogany-haired man seemed to notice this, inclining his head in a manner which dared you to smile again.

Meeting his gaze, you did. “I see,” you said, returning to the first man.

Already, you had the two of them pegged. 

The first man was their marketer, a transition man designed to make you feel comfortable with the lifestyle change. The second was present to ensure you didn’t get too comfortable. This was a classic good cop, bad cop strategy.

Truthfully, you needed none of it. Their organization was your only option and if you failed, it was more than your worthless life on the line. The thought made your stomach twist unpleasantly. 

Unbeknownst to them, you harbored a secret. This was the reason you couldn’t relax, couldn’t let your guard down for even a second. You were in an organization of spies, no matter what they chose to call themselves, and you were here to spy on them.

This wasn’t the first time you’d been approached by their kind. Before though, you had always rejected their offer. 

Your parents’ lifestyle had never been of interest, no matter the price or the handsome men in suits sent to woo you. For yes, the second man was handsome, this was undeniable. The mahogany-haired man had a high forehead, sloped nose and soft-looking lips. On anyone else, these features might have been an eclectic combination but on him, they were beautiful.  

Instead of looking his way though, you focused on the first. The marketer. 

“What would my training entail?” you asked, as though this was what gave you pause.

The man nodded, like he truly cared about your worries. You could tell by the way he shifted, the way his feet pointed towards the door, the man was already thinking about being somewhere else. Talking to you was only one stop in his insurmountable day. 

He needed to interrogate the recruit, eat his lunch, attack a mountain of paperwork, yell at a few subordinates, drink three Jameson and cokes at the bar and have sloppy sex with Sharon before passing out in his bed. Shower, rinse, repeat.

You hated to keep him from all he had to do.

“Well.” The marketer shuffled his paperwork and barely did you keep the smile from your face. You’d noticed upon entering the majority of it was blank. “The usual. You’ll be tested physically, mentally and in practical application. We’ll assess your current abilities, identify any gaps and then assign you a specialty.”

“Specialty?”

He nodded. “Technology, weapons, information gathering, etc. We’ll tailor your coursework to your specialty, according to whatever use we might have for you.”

Hearing this, your lips thinned.

“I mean,” the man hastily said. “What areas we have which might suit you best.”

He didn’t mean it. You knew the moment you joined this organization, you would belong to them in every sense of the word. They wouldn’t care about your interests or wants.

As though the man’s words were placating, you nodded. “And who is this?” you asked, looking at his silent partner.

The marketer tensed. “I – er, Hoseok,” he said.

No additional information was offered and you arched a brow. “Pleasure to meet you, Hoseok,” you said, scanning him quickly. “I see you fit the strong and silent stereotype.”

Much to your disappointment, he failed to take the bait. Instead, Hoseok lifted his chin. “Why are you here?”

“Hoseok!” The first man’s eyes widened. Some of the color drained from his cheeks; Hoseok had just made his job even harder. “I’m sorry, ma’am. Hoseok can be blunt. A field operative, you know how they can be –”

Cutting him off, you said, “Why am I here on Earth, or in this room?”

The marketer shut up.

Hoseok did not flinch. “I’ll take either answer, if you have them.”

“To survive as long as I can. As to why I’m in this room....” You trailed off, then waved a hand. “I assume you’re referring to the fact that I’ve declined your invitation to join this organization several times?”

“The way I see it, we’ve extended you offers before.” Leaning forward, his elbows slid forward on the table. “My superiors see you as an asset.” Hoseok paused, as though to emphasize how little he agreed. “Each time you’ve turned us down. Why would you accept now? What’s changed?”

His sunglasses hid his gaze, which you found annoying. Intention was difficult to hide in the eyes. Hoseok pushed himself to sit more casually, one arm draped over the back of his chair and ones leg crossed over the other. Despite his relaxed posture, his muscles were tense, as though ready to pounce.

“What’s changed,” you said, since this was a loaded question. “Nothing, I guess. The end of a life I once knew.”

Hoseok didn’t flinch. “You mean, the death of your parents.”

If he was trying to bait you, you didn’t take it. 

“Yes, that.”

With a sigh, Hoseok removed his sunglasses. Without them, his face made your eyes widen. Truly, he was gorgeous – which made you wary. He wore his beauty like a knife, revealed only when needed to cut down those in his way. Hoseok’s gaze was lidded, searching as though he could carve the truth from your lies.

He could look all he wanted; you would not cave.

“Why would that change things?” Hoseok’s gaze across your face. “Based on our intelligence, you’ve had little to do with your parents for the past five years.”

Be like stone, you told yourself. 

Stone could not break unless there were cracks in its foundation. You were solid, unyielding. Shifting on the uncomfortable leather seat, you lazily crossed one leg over the other. 

It satisfied you when Hoseok’s gaze darted ever so briefly to your legs.

“That’s true,” you agreed. “I hadn’t spoken to my parents in years before last week.”

Shutting your mouth, you swallowed. It was partly untrue and partly real, which tended to be the best type of lies.

While you took a moment to gather yourself, you also examined the brass buttons Hoseok wore. They were brass, yet hung with a weight similar to gold. It meant they were not average fasteners. Surveillance equipment, most likely.

Emboldened, you slowly uncrossed and recrossed your legs. You’d worn a dress to this interview on purpose. Hoseok’s cheeks flushed as you attempted to hide your smile. It seemed the feed from his buttons went straight to his contact lenses.

“My parents’ death was unexpected,” you said, refocusing. “As you so astutely mentioned, I never cared for their lifestyle. Their death, though… it changes things.”

For a moment, you found yourself truly at a loss. You glanced down to collect yourself, and actually did. The marketer nodded, as though in sympathy but Hoseok remained silent, unconvinced. It made you trust him more than the first.

“How did their deaths change you?” he asked, blunt.

You inhaled, images flashing again through your mind. You hadn’t let yourself think much of the day. The memory of your mother collapsed in the hall, shot dead the second she opened the door. The sight of your father slumped in the kitchen, a look of pure astonishment and confusion on his face. The bloodied note taped to their fridge, scrawled for you to find after the killer texted from your father’s phone.

It shouldn’t have been that way. Your parents were mediocre criminals at best. They shouldn’t have been killed in such a thoughtful, uncompromising manner. The bullet wounds in their bodies had been precise, placed in such a way you couldn’t doubt their marksmanship. 

No. Whoever ordered their deaths wasn’t the sort of person your parents usually dealt with – and yet, your family hadn’t seemed surprised by their attack. Your mother had opened the door for her assassin, for fuck’s sake.

Exhaling, you looked up from the table. “I’ve hidden who I am my entire life,” you said. “I’ve run from the law, from my parents, and everyone in between. Now, though...” You felt your hands clench. “I don’t want to run. I want to be useful in the only way I know how.”

Hoseok tilted his head and considered.

What you said was mostly true, but it also masked a lie. The final piece of the puzzle was your sister, whom you’d purposefully left out of the equation. The same madmen who’d murdered your parents had stolen one more thing. Your sister. 

This was the final line of the note you had found. Short and specific instructions: do as the men said, or your sister would die.

The first task you’d been given was to infiltrate this organization and so, here you were. Ready to lie, cheat and borrow just to force your way in.

Fingernails digging into your palms, you fought to keep your expression neutral. You needed them to believe you, you needed to be let in because if they cast you out, your sister was dead.

Finally, Hoseok nodded. The gesture was curt, without sympathy to his gaze. 

“Alright,” he said, glancing at his companion. “Feel free to draw up the paperwork. I approve.”

Hoseok stood and deftly removed his blazer. Shaking this out, he placed this on his chair and began to undo his buttons.

You stared. “This hardly seems the time for a costume change.”

Barely sparing a glance, Hoseok continued turning his shirt inside out. As he re-buttoned his collar, tucked the ends into his jeans and replaced his sunglasses with glasses, you could only stare. The transformation was instantaneous – international businessman to local IT worker.

Hoseok looked your way. “You’re not my only appointment today, Y/N.”

Before you could respond to this, the first man interrupted. “Right,” he said, fingers fumbling empty papers before him. “I’ll get you started, Y/N. You’ll go through a preliminary training assessment and then we’ll see, okay?”

He smiled brightly despite your clear lack of enthusiasm.

When you finally nodded, Hoseok reached for his phone and you took the time to examine him. The man was far too competent to be stuck in an office, like the marketer. It seemed Hoseok was the intelligence operative and yet, he didn’t act much like those in the field you were used to. He wasn’t crass, not at all overbearing and he seemed not to carry any visible weaponry.

Every move of his was smooth, polished and designed to blend in. This man was a professional and for the briefest of moments, you panicked. It was this type of man you needed to fool for your sister to live. You needed to be a better spy than the best of the best. 

Fervently, you hoped the entire organization wasn’t as competent as Hoseok.  

Standing, the marketer shoved reams of paper into his bag. As he moved towards the door, you made to follow, only for Hoseok to place a hand on your arm.

“A moment,” he said, as though he had all the time in the world.

Although your feet stopped, you kept your gaze on the door. “I thought you had another appointment.”

Hoseok chuckled. “Dominic, please leave us.”

You watched the other man, and to your surprise, he nodded and swiftly left the room. The door fell shut, leaving the two of you alone beneath fluorescent lights. 

Warily, you turned to face Hoseok.

He stared back, his gaze shrewd and calculating. “I still don’t trust you,” he said, letting go of your arm.

“Bully for you,” you said. “I didn’t ask.”

“You did, though. The moment you walked through the door. Am I wrong?”

He wasn’t wrong. The fact you responded to their invitation after all these years meant you wanted him to accept. His ego seemed large enough for the both of you though, and so you stayed silent.

His eyes gleamed. “I’ll take that as a no.”

Unable to stop yourself, you snapped, “I agree. I agree you shouldn’t trust me. Trust goes both ways, though and I still have no idea why I should trust you. Why I should bring my skills to your organization over any other.”

“A valid point,” Hoseok allowed. “If somewhat juvenile. What do you wish to know about me?”

Thrown by his statement, you could only blink. “I – how long have you been a part of this organization?”

“Since I was six.” Hoseok spoke smoothly, as though the question no longer fazed him. “My turn. What are you hiding?”

“Many things. None pertinent to this conversation, though.”

“Spoken like a spy.” Hoseok glanced at his watch. “You’ll find, Y/N, that you are out of your league here. No matter what rudimentary skills your parents taught you, they won’t be enough, and eventually you’ll find yourself behind.”

You bristled, but Hoseok didn’t seem to notice.

Stepping closer, his lips hovered inches away from your ear. “I anticipate you’ll leave within the first month,” he murmured.

Glancing down, you realized why Hoseok had removed his blazer. Whomever had been listening to his mic wouldn’t be able to hear this.

“You’ll fail because either your anger will burn out and you’ll cease to remember why you came here in the first place, or because you’ll fail. Or,” he added, gaze meeting yours. “There is a third, even worse option.”

"Which is?”

Hoseok paused. “The option that whatever drove you to accept is far more sinister than my colleagues imagine.” His gaze became steely. “Trust me, Y/N, if this turns out to be the case, you’ll dearly wish you’d never set foot through those doors. I’ll draw up the paperwork to kill you myself.”

Something about the way he spoke made your blood boil. 

“You do that,” you said , stepping closer. “You keep worrying about me and whatever my ass is doing, and I’ll just worry about proving you wrong. Yes? Until then, stay the hell out of my way.”

Hoseok smirked. Turning around, he bent and picked up his blazer. “I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” he said, folding it over his arm.

“And why not?” you demanded as he walked away.

He paused with one hand on the handle. “Didn’t they tell you?” Hoseok asked, glancing over his shoulder. “Didn’t they explain why I was part of your interview panel?”

Mutely, you shook your head no. A not unpleasant chill traveled down your spine.

Hoseok smiled and for the first time, it seemed real. “It’s because I’m your partner.” He pulled open the door, warmer light flooding in from the hall. “Good luck with your evaluation. I’ll see you soon, Y/N.”

With that, he stepped out and your stomach sank to the ground.

  ↳ part of my AU drabble game

#hoseok writing #bts writing #bts fanfic #hoseok fanfic #hoseok au #hoseok spy au #bts spy au #hoseok drabble #bts drabble

[creepypastashavecomittedtaxfraud]

Can we please have some Toby x Jeff or Nina x Jeff head canons? ♡´･ᴗ･`♡

YES YOU ABSOLUTELY CAN. you have EXCELLENT taste these 2 ships r some of my favorites

Ticci toby x Jeff the killer

While most of the major injury is handled by ej, or in extreme cases slenderman himself, tending to each other wounds is a sort of tender bonding thing for the both of them

gently cleaning and bandaging a cut or picking glass out of each other or doing some very small stitching for each other after a tough job is part of their typical routine now . they mostly do this while sitting together quietly, just as a de-stress thing. its actually very nice yknow. having someone you love take care of you . and after its taken care of, giving it a kiss to make it feel better…

jeff kind of gets on tobys case for no caring if he gets injured. i mean he cant feel it anyway so he doesn’t give a fuck, but jeff does . and toby calls him out for being a hypocrite, because he’s not exactly the most careful person either. they both get mad and kiss each other about it 

toby is usually known to be more…friendly? normal? than the others. more upbeat. but being with jeff brings out his bitchy cruel side . he’s still not as bad ! but he definitely has this sarcastic mean bite to him now. when they team up to get on someones case theyre pretty much insufferable LOL, but they love it . real teamwork .

they sit outside at night and talk to each other about whatever. from a distance it doesn’t even look that romantic. tobys probably carving a stick into a sharp point, jeffs smoking his lungs out, or sharpening one of his knives. theyre both sipping from the same bottle of stolen beer, but theres something very calm about them you don’t really see from either any other time. it feels toned down . no harsh words other than the occasional biting joke , always said with a smile followed by them both laughing of course, maybe one of them grabs the others shoulder for emphasis on something they said and it lingers there for a few seconds longer. 

They talk about work, sometimes jeff will pull up his sleeve and show off a new particularly gnarly scar to toby, and you can just see him soak up the attention . toby will do the same sometimes, but his never seem to get as messed up looking. he talks about masky and hoody and the things he sees out in the human world, as he’s sometimes sent out on day jobs, and jeff only ever steps out at night. about what it’s like up there during the day. 

theres a lot of moments of stretched out silence. it feels very nice. very calm and friendly and natural . then they both lay down in the grass and maybe….hold hands. or lean over and kiss a little …or a lot

theyre both pretty highly respected as guys who are good at their jobs in their own way . they go on jobs together Sometimes, but they tend to fight over who gets the actual final kill on a place . jeff is a lot more brutal and show-y with it, and tobys more of a ‘just get the job done’ guy. they both…admire each others work and technique. both are a little shy about admitting it though  

They both would die protecting the other for sure if they had to, so i guess its good they can both handle themselves pretty well. its nice to have someone ride or die for you like that though, when theyve both felt totally solo for most of their lives.

rough mean beat up boyfriends. theyre both rude bitches love each other and it really shows

Jeff the killer x Nina the killer

Jeff loves his baby so fucking much. he’s absolutely like, her guard dog basically lololol and she absolutely soaks up the protective bad boy boyfriend thing 100% even though she really doesn’t need it 

she’s very cutesy and sweet with him, and is always reeling him back and gently telling him to calm down , which he does…reluctantly, and she really doesn’t mind she just doesn’t want him all worked up all the time even if she does love and appreciate it and everything hehe :)

nina loves to go into demon city and party!!! and jeff goes with her as often as she wants him to, which is most of the time . she drags him around and makes him dance with her . and he keeps weirdos away from her, very forcefully and harshly might i add. every time he scares off some creepy loser she’s all over him being all “oh my sweet protective jeffy baby!!!” giving him kisses and praising him for keeping her safe and you know he loves that :’) 

Theres been a few times she’s gotta a little protective over him as well though . he pretty much shuts down anyone who approaches him with , bad or overtly romantic intentions, but a couple times shes had to pull him away and snap at someone getting a little too friendly. once they get out of there he laughs a bit and pets her head lovingly a little, reassuring her its fine and to not get stressed about it. but yknow, he doesn’t mind being on the receiving end of having a protective s/o once in a while. he kind of likes that his girlfriends got a backbone and a strong spirit like that. theyre both pretty mutually defensive and protective of each other, which happens to work out perfectly for each other!

he’s much more of a “DIY frat house” party guy than a nightclub or private party guy but …he doesn’t mind it that much, and really up for whatever nina wants. besides he loves playing body guard for her . he loves how much she dresses up to go to a party and how pretty she always looks. it makes him kinda blushy hehehehe. she also helps him get ready a lot :)! just wants her boyfriend to look good too, but to her he always looks good. she likes that they both have cut in smiles. its like a matching couple accessory in her eyes. sometimes she outlines hers in red and pink eye shadow and asks to do the same with his, which he msotly agrees to when she asks

theyre both high profile Killer Employees Of Slenderman so theyre always getting attention and special privileges wherever they go in the city they’re a very glamorous almost celebrity-couple type pair . nina loves it so much, it’s everything she’s ever wanted !!!! jeff can’t say he doesn’t like the attention and the constant ego boosting . theyre kind of made for this lifestyle . the scary evil underworld killer version of socialites if you want to think about it that way 

besides that though, theyre still very sweet and cutesy at home, though jeff gives her a little more space. but he definitely doesn’t have to since she follows him around all day at home mostly! shes a bit clingy, but he doesn’t mind at all. he loves having his sweet girl by his side as much as she wants. and she’s always all over him. she likes sitting next to him and holding onto his arm, or brushing his hair and putting little clips in it when she’s bored, or sitting on his lap, or laying on it, or making him sit on her lap, you get the picture

she asks to do his makeup sometimes, and he usually agrees though it’s not normally his thing. he has to admit, he does look pretty good whenever she does !

they both love each other very much and are a very cutesy loving pda couple. he’s so loving and protective with his sweet gentle pretty girlfriend and she absolutely adores her sweet loving and patient boyfriend so much!!

#ticci toby x jeff the killer #nina the killer x jeff the killer #jeff the killer x ticci toby #jeff the killer x nina the killer #i hope you like theseeee i love writing them! #insomnia-is-great

[findmyrupertfriend]

Tom Teodorczuk, Saturday 22 August 2015 

"I’ve been a big blagger all my life,” declares the actor Rupert Friend. “I’m still doing it. Look at me here – I’m pretending I’m some baldy assassin dude and it’s all a blag ... it’s like Del Boy going on in some corner or other.”

Friend confesses this by way of explaining his fascination with con artistry that will soon manifest itself in Barton & Charlie & Checco & Bill, a film about confidence tricksters which he wrote and will star in and direct. The “baldy assassin” to whom Friend refers is the title role he plays in Hitman: Agent 47, a new Hollywood studio thriller derived from the Hitman video games, in which he plays the protagonist alongside Star Trek’s Zachary Quinto.

It’s the second time a blockbuster has been based on Hitman (there was an underwhelming 2007 version) and you sense that Friend’s turn as calculating CIA black-ops agent Peter Quinn in hit television drama Homeland was instrumental in landing him the role after the film’s original star, Paul Walker, died in a car crash in 2013. It’s the latest phase in an intriguing career that has seen Friend become a period-drama mainstay (Chéri, Pride and Prejudice, Young Victoria) and a credible stage thesp (he played a closeted gay actor opposite Tamsin Greig and Gemma Arterton in The Little Dog Laughed in the West End, and received rave reviews in Dennis Potter’s Brimstone and Treacle at the Arcola Theatre in Dalston, east London.)

Many actors playing cold-blooded killing machines would have stressed they sought to be fun company on set. Not Friend. “I was quite solitary for Hitman,” he says. “I was quite apart. He struck me as a very sad individual. There was a mournful quality there.”

During his early career, much of the attention paid to him was due to his relationship with Keira Knightley, whom he dated for five years. But when I meet him at a New York hotel, he’s very much his own man: intelligent, playful and determined to do things his way. Our exchange is more akin to a meandering, diverting tutorial than a celebrity trying to promote a film. Questions are thrown back at me, stray words challenged.

With Hitman: Agent 47 and Homeland, Friend has cornered the market in no-nonsense killers. “It’s curious that these two things have happened at the same time,” he notes. “It’s an odd zeitgeist cornering of assassins. I have no idea why. But in this business, it’s like buses. Things tend to come along in twos or threes. There’s a bunch of Dorian Gray movies and then there will be a bunch of gladiator movies.”

In the production notes for Hitman: Agent 47, producer Charles Gordon compares Friend to Bruce Willis when he made Die Hard. He laughs when I bring up the comparison, insisting he’s not about to become an action hero. “I like to shake it up. Becoming that guy who does one thing is not very interesting. I’m lucky and proud to have been involved in period films and action films. I feel like there’s a little farcical side that has not been tapped yet.”

Indeed Friend says he’s a huge fan of Monty Python and that Barton & Charlie & Checco & Bill, which will also co-star Emily Blunt, will be a US-set comedy. He also reveals that there has been talk of a feature based on Steve, a 2010 short he directed, starring Colin Firth as an eccentric loner. “Colin called me to say he and his producing partners really want to do a feature of it,” Friend says. “ I would be very happy to ... if the BFI wants to get their finger out of their arse and provide a decent tax break. The fact that British people complain there’s no film industry, and yet they don’t offer any incentives to filmmakers, is bananas.”

Friend is equally bored by the idea of watching his own films. When I ask what he thinks of Hitman: Agent 47, he replies: “I haven’t seen it. I don’t watch my films. I have no interest in it all. I’m interested in research, preparation and doing the best job I can.” Even with Homeland, Friend says, “I saw the first season – that I wasn’t in – but nothing since then.”

Since the departure of Brody (Damian Lewis) at the end of Series 3, Quinn has been the show’s male lead. How many more Homeland series will he do? “It’s not up to me. It’s this curious thing where my fate is in another’s hands.” Is he ahead in terms of knowing what happens on the show? “Very rarely. The creative process is remote. It’s done out of LA and it’s handed down. We sort of do what we’re told. It’s done by committee, but the committee is in LA and we’re all in Berlin so there’s a disconnect there.”

Both Homeland and Hitman: Agent 47 were filmed in Berlin, a city Friend seems ambivalent about. “It’s a diverse place filled with artists, debate and argument but it struggles with its history and the reinvention of itself.” When I ask whether he has acquainted himself with the city’s famed nightspots, specifically techno institution Berghain, he says not. “I’m not a big night-clubbing guy, but Zach [Quinto] has been. Zach had a season ticket!”

At one stage, Friend brings up Benedict Cumberbatch’s recent plea to fans not to film him in Hamlet at the Barbican, by way of bemoaning audiences’ inability to enjoy the moment. Would Friend like to play Hamlet? “No. I don’t want to do the theatre,” he says, surprisingly given his stage work. “It’s not something that interests me. I have a very short attention span. I’d do it once … for one night only.”

At the Hitman: Agent 47 New York premiere, two  days earlier, he looked at ease posing with his American fiancée, former Paralympic athlete turned model Aimee Mullins. Is he now more used to the public eye than during his relationship with Knightley? “It’s one of the most nerve-racking things to walk along a strip of red carpet which looks so fun and glamorous while 40 or 50 flashbulbs go off,” Friend contends. “It is surreal, invasive, horrible, violating and necessary, so to hold somebody’s hand while you’re doing it makes it a lot better.”

Born without fibula bones, Mullins had both knees amputated when she was a baby. She received international acclaim in 2012 for a TED Talk she gave on redefining disability. Is she an inspirational person? “That is an overused word,” he says. “There’s an argument for a moratorium on the word, there’s a kind of cult of ‘inspiration porn’ which TED has been guilty of,” – though he adds that he likes their talks.

Friend tells me the pair met in New York, where he now lives. As for when they are getting married? “I’m happy for it to be as much a surprise for us as it is for everyone else” – a response which might be a deflection but seems fitting for a man who places a premium on unpredictability.

#words with friend #rupert friend #interview #indepent.co.uk #august 2015

[cyrusgoodboye]

Cyrus publicly come out as gay (mostly by accident) and TJ is feeling down because he thought they were friend but Cyrus never told him before telling he whole school.

Outed - a Tyrus fanfiction

It’s been two whole months. I am so sorry! I actually tend to thrive more during hiatus (it’s hard to write during the show because canon is constantly changing whereas time in a hiautus stands still). I just wanted to say that this apparently resembles an episode of Stuck in the Middle (although I don’t watch that show) but I noticed it on a commercial during a binge of Andi Mack. Anyway, besides the point, have fun reading! It’s a long one!

Dedicated to the Secret Tyrus Society. Yes, even you, invalid Jay

Cyrus could admit with ease that he was a creature of habit.  He hung out with the same group of people that he had since second grade, he would go to the same restaurant that he had frequented everyday for the past five years with that same group of friends, and they even would get the same order there (baby taters and milkshakes, of course!) every time they went.  Cyrus’s fondness of his almost anticipated regimens even went as far as him having the same kind of routine for each school day.  He was a pretty predictable guy, and his daily schedules reflected that.

Cyrus had mulled over and went through the motions of his day-to-day routine so many times that it was practically second nature to him now.  His routine for school was simple: get dressed in an outfit combination picked out from the night before, attempt to get a chocolate chocolate-chip muffin in the breakfast line at school (he usually liked T.J. to help him if it was at all possible), listen to Andi and Jonah’s drama with a smile plastered on his face as they waited for the bell to ring, and then volunteer to do the daily announcements before classes began, all the while scoring high marks in all of his classes, devouring his lunch, suffering his way through the treacherous PE period, and then hanging out at The Spoon until his dinner curfew.  Just your average day, right?

There was only one wrinkle in his otherwise flawless regimen: the daily announcements.

Doing the daily announcements was always a much coveted job (mostly because it got students out of class), and Cyrus was not an exception to the glamor and thrill of it.  He had never done it himself, but it had always seemed so exhilarating to him!  The lights, the camera, the action…it could only lead him along further on his path of directing, Cyrus was sure of it!

Unfortunately for him, despite his extensive background in the directing aspect of it all and volunteering nearly everyday for the position, Cyrus still hadn’t gotten a single opportunity at the job!  The tragedy of it all!  He had almost begun to lose hope that he’d ever get a chance (and had even stopped volunteering for a while at his lack of faith in himself), but T.J. had talked him right back into it the night before during Cyrus’s daily visit to The Spoon.  Over a basket overflowing with The Spoon’s infamous crispy baby taters, the basketball player promised Cyrus that his day would come.

And it did!  Just…not in the way he expected.  Not in a way either of them expected, quite honestly.

On a particularly dreadful Monday morning, Cyrus suffered through the first few minutes of a very long week to come with no chocolate chocolate-chip muffin (where was T.J. when you needed him?) all the while listening to Andi’s boyfriend troubles like the supportive friend he was.  After Andi lightly chided him for not listening to her (he was daydreaming about the chocolatey goodness of his favorite muffins…mhm), Cyrus hurried to class and plopped down into his slightly squeaky desk chair in a flourish.  Just on time! he happily heeded.  He loved to have perfect attendance (aside from the one time he skipped gym to avoid doing a somersault.  Not his best moment.  Luckily the coach hadn’t even noted his absence).

When the warning bell finally chimed, Cyrus’s homeroom teacher, Ms. Beveridge, stood up before the class with a bored, grim expression on her face that Cyrus had long grown accustomed to.  As he had learned over the course of his seventh-grade year, she was not a morning person, and talking to her before she had her caffeine was like waking a sleeping grizzly bear, and an extremely grumpy one at that!

“Who wants to do the daily announcements this morning?” their teacher asked in her usual monotone, sipping from a thermos that Cyrus happily noted was steaming from a loose crevice in the lid.  He was free to badger her now that she had caffeine flowing through her veins!  

For the first time in a while, Cyrus’s hand shot up along the sea of other volunteers.  Now was his opportunity!  “Me, me!” he exclaimed.  He received an eye roll for his enthusiasm, and he immediately changed his tone.  Maybe the coffee hasn’t kicked all the way in yet, he countered with himself.  “I would be happy to do it, Ms. Beveridge,” Cyrus said more tamely, trying to downplay his excitement.  He did not want to be shot down before he was even considered for the job.  He wanted to accomplish something, and in turn make T.J. proud of yet another thing he crossed off his list.  

The rest of the class dropped their hands at Cyrus’s request, and the teacher had no choice but to allow the boy due to the sudden lack of other volunteers.  “Fine.  You all know the drill.  You need another student to do it with you.”  Cyrus glanced curiously around the classroom, but his classmates remained still in their seats, their hands resting idly on their desks or in their laps, and he bit his lip in disappointment.  Did no one want to do the announcements with him?  Did everyone hate him that much?

Ms. Beveridge exhaled loudly through her nose in annoyance at the lack of participants.  “Mr. Goodman, just pick someone to do it, it doesn’t matter.”  As she walked over to her desk and plunked down into her swivel chair, Cyrus swore that he heard her mumble underneath her breath, “Three more years until retirement,” but he tried to shake her bitter, resenting words from his mind.

Instead, he listened to the teacher’s orders and glanced around at his classmates in search of a potential partner.  His eyes immediately found Andi, who sat pretty close by him, but she was gazing off into the distance, probably daydreaming about an art project that was itching to be finished back in Andi Shack.  Or she was thinking about Jonah.  Or thinking about making another art piece for Jonah.  Either way, Cyrus didn’t want to disrupt her from her most likely Jonah filled thoughts.  He knew that feeling all too well.

His eyes drifted over to Buffy next, and, as if she were anticipating Cyrus to consider her, was already staring back at him with insistence dancing in her eyes, shaking her head at him adamantly.  Buffy hated doing the announcements, and she always avoided doing them if possible.  She claimed that she would rather stay in class and listen to them than do it herself, but Cyrus suspected it was her dislike of their newest principal, Dr. Metcalf, that kept her from going up there.

Cyrus sent her a pleading look, but Buffy glared back, her strong-willedness unwavering.  

Cyrus put on an apologetic smile before raising his hand.  Sorry, Buffy!  “Ms. Beveridge, I want Buffy to do the daily announcements with me!” he chimed cheerily. At his words, Buffy slapped her forehead, and Cyrus grinned at the sight.  

The teacher grumbled, taking another gulp from her thermos.  “Fantastic,” she drawled boredly.  She certainly didn’t care to the same degree Cyrus did.  “Go to the office.”  

Cyrus excitedly got up from his desk, clapping happily to himself while Buffy rose from her desk with a loud huff.  As she met Cyrus by the threshold of the door, she gave him a spiteful look.  “I will never forgive you for this,” she said, forcing the door to click behind them.  She used more force than necessary, and the loud slam made Cyrus flinch.

“Oh, come on, Buffy, it won’t be so bad,” he assured her as they made their way down the hallway. He tried to smile good-naturedly, although his enthusiasm was met with the harsh side-eyed glances that his best friend kept sending his way.  “I bet you’ll want to do it again after today, too!”

Buffy looked at him incredulously.  “I can promise that I won’t.”

They continued their trek through the school and, thanks to the direction of the school’s receptionist, found themselves inside of a room off to the side, filled to the brim with sound equipment that Cyrus had only dreamed of using.  So he was kind of a nerd.  Sue him!

Cyrus took in his surroundings in complete awe.  Behind him was a wall-to-wall green screen, supplied to replace the dull, white cement block walls behind them whilst reciting the daily announcements.  On the right wall was a wide window, giving them a perfect view of the school halls and locker bays, while the sound apparatus itself was facing them.  Cyrus knew that he wouldn’t get the opportunity to, but he wished that he could learn every single button and its function in the time that he spent in here.  It all looked so fascinating!  And why did all those buttons look so appealing to punch and press?

He drifted over to the large soundboard, vaguely taking notice of sign on the left of the wall that read On Air (that was oddly devoid of any light or motion) before turning his attention to the mega sound board.  He sighed happily as his eyes swept over all of controls.  It only made him want to go into the film industry even more!

Buffy strolled over to where he was, seeming at least mildly impressed that their school actually had this high tech equipment (which was unusual for a school who refused to even found a girls’ basketball team due to ‘budget issues’, she thought bitterly).  She faintly ran a hand against the shiny board before shrugging indifferently.  “Not bad,” she commented.  “Still not worth seeing Dr. Metcalf over,” Buffy reminded Cyrus bitingly.  “What does he have a Doctorate in again?  Ruining students’ lives?”

Cyrus rolled his eyes playfully at his best friend.  She must’ve disagreed with their principal’s methods more than he had originally thought.  “Ha, ha, Buffy, but I don’t think they would’ve let him run the school if they knew that,” he pointed out.  He glanced at his watch boredly, and his eyes widened when he saw the time: 7:58 A.M.  Where was their principal at, anyway?  “Isn’t he supposed to be here by now?”

Buffy shrugged, obviously uncaring.  “How am I supposed to know?  I don’t keep track of him, let alone what time he gets here.”

Cyrus sighed worriedly as he checked his watch again, despite no time having had passed.  What if he missed his one opportunity to do the daily announcements?  They weren’t allowed to start without Dr. Metcalf, after all…

“Cyrus,” Buffy said firmly, putting both hands on his shoulders in order to gain his full attention, “it’s going to be okay.  Don’t worry.”

“I always worry.  What are you talking about?”  Buffy released him of her hold and just shook her head incredulously.  There was no calming Cyrus down once he got worked up.  She might as well have been talking to a wall (and an extremely anxious one at that).  

When Cyrus caught the slightest movement in the window out of the corner of his eye, he jerked his head, suddenly feeling his hope heighten once more.  Was Dr. Metcalf finally here?  

However, when his eyes focused in on the person, he was met with someone much better than their grouchy principal.  T.J.!

The basketball player caught his eye through the window, and he slightly beamed at him, waving at him through the smudge-free window (seriously, this room was a dream!).  Cyrus waved back faintly, returning an endearing smile of his own.  

T.J. pointed toward the door leading into the room, mouthing words that looked an awful lot like, “Lamb eye nun is mine,” (Cyrus didn’t move the lips, he just read them!), and just gave the basketball player a confused look in return.  What was he saying?

T.J. rolled his eyes playfully to himself before coming to the door and pushing down on the metal handle, and Cyrus briefly heard muffled chatter and hurried footsteps as students made their way to their respective homerooms before T.J. promptly closed the door shut behind him.

“You’re finally doing the announcements?” T.J. immediately asked, his eyebrows jumping up at his question.  Cyrus felt himself melt inside at the expression.  Why did T.J. have to look so cute?

“Yep!  Another thing we can scratch off my bucket list,” Cyrus noted happily.  T.J. had taken it upon himself to help Cyrus with all of the things he wanted to complete in life (or thought he could never do), and Cyrus was more than willing to oblige.  He’d take any reason to hang out with T.J., honestly.

He also was glad that T.J. had such confidence in him.  No one had ever done anything like this for him before, and the fact that T.J. cared so much about helping Cyrus build up his self esteem whilst achieving things he never imagined possible made Cyrus’s heart melt all the more.

It was no wonder he was so hopelessly smitten for T.J. Kippen.  

“I’m happy for you, Underdog,” T.J. told him genuinely, and Cyrus returned his warm well-wishing remark with a balmy grin of his own.

As Cyrus (admittedly) found himself lost within the entrancement of T.J.’s mesmerizing green eyes, the final bell for class rang, and T.J. groaned audibly. “Shoot, I gotta go.  I have gym and we’re supposed to meet Coach Anderson outside today,” he informed, annoyance crossing his face.  When his eyes flickered back to meet Cyrus’s captivating gaze, his face morphed, his lips transforming from a cross frown to a small, but sweet, smile reserved solely for the shorter boy. “See you around?”

Cyrus nodded, dazed.  He felt as if he had been broken from a trance.  “Y-yeah, see you later, T.J.”

“See ya,” the basketball player said, leaving Cyrus stricken with one last breathtaking smile he sent him over his shoulder.  Why did this boy have such an effect on him?

T.J. left through the same door he came in and began to jog toward the outside doors (albeit tardy), but paused to turn around and glance back at Cyrus one last time.  Cyrus beamed back at him, feeling like he could melt right into the floor, and he leaned back onto the sound equipment dreamily, not even noticing the way the buttons were digging uncomfortably into his palms.  

“You’ve really got it bad for him, don’t you?” Buffy asked, slinging an arm around Cyrus’s shoulders.  

Cyrus stared at her in disbelief.  “How could you not have a crush on T.J.?”

Buffy arched an incredulous brow.  “Get back to me when he treats you horribly,” she said jokingly, although a bitter tone crept into her voice, and Cyrus playfully nudged her to shake her out of her most likely angry thoughts.  He didn’t want her to delve back in to some old resentments (at least not now when T.J. was actively being a better person).  

“Point taken,” Cyrus told her, trying to end the conversation subtly.  He lifted himself up from the soundboard, shifting a few buttons in the process, and he massaged his hands as he noticed the unattractive marks that the controls had left on his palms.  When had he even leaned on the soundboard?  He honestly didn’t even remember.

As Cyrus gently ran his palms against his blue cardigan, trying to calm the angry red marks on his skin, a slightly tense silence filled the room as they impatiently waited for their principal to show up.  In an attempt to distract Buffy from the situation currently at hand, Cyrus played with the microphone, putting on his best announcer voice. “Buffy the Basketball Slayer, Most Valuable Player!” he said, deepening his voice to match that of a sports anchor.  

Buffy let out a wide grin at his announcer voice, and Cyrus smiled as he watched his best friend light up.  Nothing could cure her like his famous basketball patter!  “Say a prayer, ‘cause here comes the Slayer!” he continued comically, and Buffy and him burst into laughter.  What a shame the school can’t hear my sports prattle right now, Cyrus thought to himself.  He was so iconic at Buffy’s basketball games that the entire school deserved to hear it!

In the midst of their giggling fit, a voice not-so-subtly cleared their throat, catching the best friends’ attention.  As their principal towered over them with an intimidating brow raised, the pair choked down their laughter and suppressed their smiles.  It was like Dr. Metcalf had the power to suck down all the fun in the room with just his presence.

Cyrus had the opposite of that power.

“I see you two have been abusing this privilege while I was late this morning,” their principal noted aloud, and Cyrus could feel Buffy’s annoyance rolling off of her in heavily concentrated waves.  He himself felt more frightened than he did irritated, unlike his best friend.  Nothing scared her, though; Cyrus was sure of it.

“I’m so sorry, Dr. Metcalf, we were just waiting for you to arrive and—” Cyrus rambled, but their principal cut him off with a raised hand.

“Enough,” he said, shaking his head in agitation as he pursed his lips, “let’s just get this started, shall we?” Dr. Metcalf asked, slapping a crisp piece of paper against Cyrus’s chest.  Cyrus was taken aback at first, stumbling slightly at the unexpected action, but he quickly regained his balance and got over his shock when his eyes skimmed over the boldly typed words on the paper.  It was the daily announcements!  This was actually happening!  He could hardly believe that this day had finally come…

Dr. Metcalf broke him from his joy-ridden thoughts.  “Go ahead and start, but no more funny business,” he said, warning the two of them with a point of his finger and a serious look settled upon his face.  Once he finally left the room, Cyrus and Buffy both let out their respective sighs of relief.  Their principal made the space feel so strangled, and Cyrus hated feeling like that.  Now he understood why Buffy had such a strong aversion to speaking with him and why she avoided him at all costs.

“Okay, go ahead and turn it on,” Buffy advised, “before we get into more trouble than we’re already in.”

Cyrus nodded, silently agreeing with her, and he moved forward and fidgeted with a few buttons.  How did you even turn this thing on? Cyrus thought to himself.

When Buffy noticed the lost glint in his eyes, she looked at him in disbelief.  “You don’t even know how to turn it on?”

“Shh, don’t rush me!” Cyrus murmured, and Buffy huffed beside them.  When she noticed the sign On Air blinking red, she grabbed Cyrus’s arm.  “Oh, you already turned it on, Cyrus!”

Cyrus glanced at her in confusion.  “I didn’t even touch anything,” he claimed, his eyebrows drawn together in uncertainty as he removed his hands carefully from the soundboard.  Was he just so skilled that he turned it on without even realizing it?  He must be more of a natural than he thought!

“Go ahead and start!” she exclaimed, gesturing toward the microphone, and he hurried to shield it from her booming voice.  

“Patience, Buffy, patience,” he whispered urgently. Cyrus whipped the paper against the air to straighten the sheet, and he smiled to himself.  This was it!  His moment to shine!

And it’s all thanks to T.J., a part of his brain added.  Cyrus smiled before opening his mouth.  He’d be sure to thank T.J. in his award acceptance speech when he was older!  “Good morning, Jefferson Middle School!” he started.  Cyrus grinned, allowing his natural charisma to take the lead. “Please rise for the Pledge of Allegiance!”

T.J. groaned as he jogged another lap around the track, the biting humid heat attacking his hair.  His Jefferson Middle School sweatshirt was beginning to cling uncomfortably to his skin, and T.J. took a few staggered, unevenly paced steps to strip his hoodie off and toss it around his shoulders hurriedly to rid himself of the hot waves radiating off his body.  Just as he paused completely in the middle of the track to wipe off the beads of sweat that had collected above his brow, he heard a sharp, piercing whistle shrill at him for stopping, and T.J. rolled his eyes before picking up his swift pace once more.  Why did today have to be mile day? T.J. asked himself dryly.

It wasn’t even the running part that got him down; he was used to invigorating exercises like this during basketball practice all the time.  It was more of the fact that he had to miss Cyrus doing the daily announcements for the first time.  T.J. wished he could’ve just skipped gym that day so he could be in the room with him, giving Cyrus little bursts of confidence as he needed them.

A standstill of Cyrus smiling at him flashed brilliantly in his mind, the boy’s adorable toothy grin completely hopeful and eager, and it only drove T.J. to pump his legs harder against the track, its rigid surface working against the grips of his tennis shoes.  The quicker he finished running his mile, the sooner he could see the gleeful expression on Cyrus’s face.  He lived for that expression.  

Once T.J. finally crossed the finish line for the 4th (and final) time, he heaved and leaned his hands against his bent knees as he regained his breath.  The coach pat him on the back and congratulated him on his time (5:17, his best time ever), but T.J.’s mind was wandering elsewhere, roaming back to the soundboard room.  I hope he’s doing okay, T.J. thought to himself.  After he regained his breath, he straightened his spine, feeling each vertebrae lock into place as he stood up.  He took a longing glance at the school before the coach blew his whistle sharply, and T.J., with one last annoyed huff, was back onto the track, joining his classmates.  How he wished he were with Cyrus right now…

Cyrus felt a smile tug onto his lips as he and Buffy began to ramble back to class.  He couldn’t believe that he had actually done it!  He did the daily announcements, and fluidly so (unlike that whole school video disaster with Jonah)!  Cyrus was so proud of himself for doing something without horrendously messing it up, and he couldn’t wait to see the proud look on T.J.’s face when he saw him next.  

He entered the classroom, showing off a boastful smile as he awaited his classmate’s praise for his accomplishment, but he was met with none; instead, he was greeted with their expressionless faces, although their eyes glinted with conflicting emotions; Cyrus saw so many different ones swirling in his classmates eyes that he felt almost overwhelmed, and his smile fell from his face.  What was wrong with his classmates?  What had happened while he had been gone?

“What’s going on?” Cyrus whispered to Buffy, clinging onto the strap of his shoulder bag as he voiced his thoughts aloud.  All the eyes at him made him feel like they were stripping away his confidence, peering into the darkest pieces of his soul to see the frail, insecure part inside of him that was sure everyone hated him.  He did not like that feeling at all.  Not one bit.

Buffy’s eyebrows drew together as she scanned over their classmates, and she shrugged, just as confused as her best friend was.  “I have no idea,” she mumbled back.

As soon as she spotted them, Ms. Beveridge was quick to clamber out of her seat and to the two students, and Cyrus’s stomach dropped at the slightly alarmed look on her face.  What was going on?  He had never seen his teacher wear an expression that conveyed anything except the dislike of her job and her students, but if she was concerned, something really must have been wrong!

“Go ahead and take a seat, Ms. Driscoll,” she said in her normal monotone.  “You too, Cyrus,” she added on, her voice dipping into a softer range.  She laid a gentle hand on his shoulder, and Cyrus jerked back at the action in worry.  First she was calling him something other than Mr. Goodman, but now she was being nice?  What planet was he on because this was not Earth!

His brow furrowed, but he followed his teacher’s commands nevertheless, taking his seat near the back like normal.  He glanced back at Andi, hoping she could snap him out of his pit of anxiety, but the worried look that contorted her features only confirmed his fear that something was very, very wrong.

In an attempt to seize his last shred of optimism without falling into the depths of despair (he did tend to go overboard sometimes), Cyrus tried to shake his persisting negative thoughts away from his mind.  You’re just overthinking everything, he assured himself.  His father constantly reminded him that he shouldn’t let the technical details of everything get to him; it only worsened his day-to-day anxiety, and Cyrus liked to keep his anxious thoughts tucked away in the corners of his mind to keep them from curling inside of him like smothering campfire smoke.

That was why he was glad to have a buffer: T.J., his supportive, amazing friend (if you could even call him that; to Cyrus he felt like so much more than a friend) that kept his neurotic thoughts at bay.  With T.J. he felt like he could face the world, but now that he was alone without the basketball player by his side, Cyrus felt as if all the wary eyes on him could disintegrate him into a pile of ash.  An insecure heap of cinders.  

As his teacher finally recaptured all of their attention, beginning their first class of the day, Cyrus tried to shove his intrusive, anxiety-ridden thoughts to the back of his mind and instead focused on the advice his stepmother (slash therapist, but details) constantly gave him.  What good would worrying do?

When the bell eventually chimed, signalling the end of their first period, Cyrus had already managed to rid himself of all of his distressed, nagging thoughts, and by the time he was walking out of the door and into the hallway, he had even gained a bounce in his step.  Where was T.J.?  He had to find him and tell him that he did the announcements by himself, that he hadn’t even messed up once!  

T.J. found him first.  

After jogging as fast as he could without being berated by his coach, T.J. made it back to the school, excusing himself quickly to ‘go to the bathroom’ (he was actually hoping he could meet Cyrus outside of his first period class before the bell rang, but Coach Anderson didn’t need to know that).  Instead of going straight to the restroom, though, like he had promised, T.J. hurried to switch out of his gym clothes and back into his normal outfit, making sure to tug on his Jefferson Middle School hoodie before bounding out of the boys’ changing room and to his locker.  With only a few minutes til the bell, T.J. snatched his textbooks for his next class from the top shelf, and just as he went to shut the locker’s pale metal door, a couple of cackling voices interrupted him.  

“Hey, Kippen,” a voice sneered, and T.J. turned around with a raised eyebrow.  Once he saw the familiar, jeering faces, the basketball player had to resist the urge to roll his eyes.

“What do you want?” he asked, annoyance immediately contorting his features.  The boy and his friends circled around T.J., and the basketball player huffed.  Who did they think they were, anyway?  Without his status feeding into their egos, T.J. was surprised that they could even survive with what little reputation they had left to maintain.  

All three boys nudged each other, snickering in a way that meant they only knew what the other was laughing about.  T.J. felt anger rise in his chest at their avoidance of his question, and he spoke again to gain their attention, his irritation prominently lining his voice with a sharp, rigid edge.  “Well?”

“Looks like you’ve got yourself a boyfriend, Kippen,” the one in the middle chortled, his name somehow managing to slip from T.J.’s memory.  

T.J. froze, a slight panic starting to swell in his chest.  Boyfriend?  What were they talking about?  Did they…did they know that he liked Cyrus?

T.J. shook his head in denial, then tried to keep his expression indifferent.  No.  There’s no way they know.  “Boyfriend?” he asked incredulously.  T.J. tried to ignore the way his heart was trying to beat itself out of his chest as he thought about how he was actually having to deny this right now.  How had this even started?  “What are you talking about?”

The one on the right with terrible bleach-blonde hair (Kyle, T.J. thought his name was, not that he particularly cared at the moment) spoke next, and his pinched, nasally voice made T.J. cringe internally.  “Don’t act like you aren’t dating Goodman,” he snickered, and T.J.’s heart stopped.  Goodman?  They think I’m dating Cyrus?

It was basically common knowledge that him and Cyrus were attached at the hip, but he didn’t see why everyone was assuming things about their….granted, unusual relationship.  

As far as he knew, Cyrus thought of the two as them as every other heterosexual, platonic friendship on the planet.  Not that T.J. would agree with that particular sentiment.  

If only that were true, the basketball player thought to himself bitterly. It would be a lot easier on his end.  

“I’m not dating Cyrus,” T.J. denied, somehow managing to get his words across without a wavering slip of the tongue.  How he wished the words didn’t send his heart into a winding spiral the way that they did.  

T.J. swallowed, forcing himself to choke down the sudden blooming feeling in his chest.  He didn’t even know if Cyrus even liked guys for God sake!  What if Cyrus was uncomfortable with him being gay?  Or with being friends with someone he was supposedly ‘dating’ according to the school’s obnoxious rumor mill?  T.J. wasn’t exactly sure, and a part of him didn’t want to find out.

“Seems like it,” the third kid on the left said, a sarcastic undertone shining through his gruff voice. T.J. turned back to his locker, feigning disinterest as the cronies spoke.  

How T.J. wished he didn’t have to dismiss any of these claims.  How he wished he could hold Cyrus’s hand as they walked to class together like any other couple they knew, like Jonah and Andi.  He wanted it so much that his chest ached at the mere thought of it.

But T.J. knew how unobtainable that dream was, and he tried to wipe his mind of it to not indulge himself (albeit unsuccessfully).  

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” T.J. said finally, turning back to face the group of delinquents.  How he hated that he had once been the ring leader of their group.  They reminded him of how he used to be…how awful he had been back then.

The corners of his mouth tugged up.  Cyrus was the reason he wasn’t a jerk anymore.  And that made him happier than anything.

Kyle raised his eyebrows challengingly, and the smirk that grew on his face to follow his poised brow made T.J.’s stomach crawl uneasily.  He knew that mischievous smirk, and it was not something to take lightly.

“Well?” T.J. asked, his annoyance and impatience overpowering his voice.  He didn’t want to waste his time and energy talking to these losers when he could be talking to Cyrus at this very moment instead.  

T.J. could almost imagine his smile, the one he only got on his face when he was proud of himself.  First his eyes would glimmer with the sense of achievement, and the sparkles his eyes shone with reminded T.J. of the ripples of the lake near his house when they reflected back their own watery versions of the brilliant stars above.  Even better was Cyrus’s smile, that would get so wide to the point that T.J. thought he couldn’t beam any wider, the boy’s stretched lips so full of pride and glee that it made T.J.’s heart swell with a foreign feeling he could not identify.

Or maybe he could.  But he was far too scared to say it aloud.

Love, a part of his brain nagged at him.  T.J. pushed that part of his brain to the back of his mind where it belonged.

“Well, turns out Goodman is gay,” Kyle spat menacingly, and T.J. head jerked in surprise.  Wait, what now?  “He accidentally let it slip on the daily announcements,” he finally admitted with a snigger.  He and his friends chortled, and T.J. looked at them, completely speechless.  He grasped for the right words to say, but he couldn’t find any; were there even right words to say in this situation?  

He settled for a basic response.  “So what if he is?” T.J. said, trying to shrug indifferently.  He hoped the tough shell he was building around himself was hiding the scared part of him, the part that wanted to retch at the whole situation.  How had this even happened?  They had to be lying, right?

There was no way Cyrus had accidentally outed himself to the entire school…there was no way something this traumatizing had happened to his closest friend and he had missed it.  Was Cyrus okay?  Was he sitting in a classroom somewhere while everyone stared and whispered about him?  Or had he fled the moment word had gotten out?

He wondered if Cyrus even knew.

Another round of booming laughter was exchanged between the three boys, as if they knew something he didn’t.  It made T.J.’s blood boil, and he hoped they knew how lucky they were that he was already tired from running the mile.  God knew what he’d do to them otherwise.

“What?” the basketball player spat, his stomach clawing uneasily at him.  

They all snickered again before the one on the right, the tallest of the three, spoke.  “Goodman has a big old gay crush on you,” they confessed with wide smirks, all of them unsuccessfully hiding their amusement at the situation.

T.J. was pretty sure his heart stopped, and he thanked whatever God there was up there when the bell decided to ring at that exact moment.  It could not have been more perfect timing.

As the blaring of the school bell sounded throughout the building, T.J. turned away to hide his stained cheeks, a frantic feeling settling in his chest as the hallways began to fill with students bubbling with conversation (probably about what had just happened, T.J. figured).  He began to walk in a brisk, almost panicked manner in the opposite direction of his old friends, fear squeezing its way into his chest as the thought of Cyrus being alone, frightened beyond words, flashed into his mind. Before he completely was out of his old friend’s earshot, he heard Kyle shout out one last biting remark.  “Looks like Kippen’s gay after all!”

T.J. felt anger seize him, the flaring, enraging emotion taking root of his heart and pounding throughout every atom in his body, but he refused to look back.  One thing was certain:

He needed to find Cyrus.

Cyrus felt an arm reach out and whip him around to face them, and he winced at the action in pain.  “Ow, Andi, that hurt!” he whined, rubbing his arm where a row of perfectly manicured fingernails had gouged his skin

“Cyrus, your arm isn’t important right now!” his best friend said, her voice getting higher with urgency.

Cyrus felt worry settle over him again.  What was wrong?  Was something wrong with his shirt?  Did he have something in his teeth?  

Somehow, his brain was ringing with alarm bells, warning him it was something more serious, but he didn’t get a chance to ponder on exactly what because another hand was tugging at him, grasping for his attention.

“T.J.,” he breathed, a happy smile extending on his face ear to ear as he took in the taller boy.  “Did you hear me on the daily announcements?  I did it!  I didn’t even mess up!”

Cyrus expected to be met with that proud smile that T.J. reserved only for him, the one that made something exhilarating bubble from his stomach to his chest until his entire body was hooked on the indescribable, overwhelming feeling.  Instead, he was greeted by a quick, drawn-in wince, and that familiar anxious feeling washed over him in tremendous waves.  

As he let out his grimace, T.J. watched Cyrus’s proud, excited look dissolve into fear, and his heart ached for the boy across from him.  It was like witnessing a peaceful, serene lake exist contentedly before someone splintered its smooth surface, causing it to ripple across its previously undisturbed slate.  

T.J. did not want to be the person that transformed the tranquil water into dangerous rapids.  Could he even navigate those waters?  Could Cyrus?

“T.J.?” Cyrus asked in confusion.  

T.J.’s heart prodded painfully against his ribs as Cyrus’s eyes peeked curiously into the part of his soul that T.J. never allowed anyone else.  T.J. gulped at the boy’s expression, wishing he could give the boy the validation he was seeking from him.  But he couldn’t.  He had to tell him.

If only it wouldn’t fracture Cyrus’s spirit in the process.

“You know you could’ve told me,” the basketball player began, his eyes flickering between Cyrus’s brown orbs and the plainly tiled school flooring below them.  T.J.’s hand came up to cradle his own neck, trying not to claw at it with his fingernails as his nerves swirled in his belly.  How he wished he could keep Cyrus in his innocent, unaware bubble forever.  But even T.J. knew he deserved better than that.

“Told you what?” Cyrus asked, his fear rapidly replacing itself with a thick layer of confusion.

“You know…what you said on the announcements,” T.J. said, leaving a touch of mystery hanging in the air.  

Cyrus’s mind skimmed over all the things he said on the daily announcements that T.J. would possibly care to know about: the sports column (T.J. already knew the scores from those beforehand), the reminder about after school club sign ups (T.J. wouldn’t sign up for anything besides basketball), the teacher’s meeting after school (the basketball player wasn’t a teacher, either), the lunch menu—oh, the lunch menu!  T.J. liked lunch (he was a growing boy, after all)!  “You mean the lunch special today?” Cyrus asked, immediately perking up.  “I know, isn’t it exciting? I—”

“Cyrus,” T.J. interrupted, and Cyrus’s expression dropped.  He couldn’t hide from what T.J. was about to tell him now; judging by his urgent tone and careful word usage, Cyrus knew it had to be serious. T.J. hardly ever called him by his first name, and the fact that he had only reaffirmed the fear that something truly terrible had happened.

“I didn’t hear it myself since I was outside, but…,” T.J. continued, his eyes ungluing themselves from the floor and fluttering to Cyrus again.  Cyrus took the opportunity to take notice of the hordes of students that were staring at them, their eyes fixed onto the pair, and Cyrus braced himself for what was about to come.

“T.J.,” he said, his voice almost pleading.  “Please, just tell me.”  The eyes on him felt heavier by the minute, and all he wanted to do was grab T.J.’s hand and take him somewhere, anywhere but in the hallway, where everyone’s prying eyes were on them, watching them discuss something that seemed too private for their curious ears.  It was almost too much for Cyrus to handle.

“Apparently, on the announcements you said you liked…,” T.J. trailed off, pausing for a moment as if rephrasing a sentence silently in his head.  “You said you liked guys.”

Cyrus felt like he had been punched in the gut.  He was stunned; there was no other way to put it.  Everyone…everyone knew?  

Cyrus felt like he had been submerged underwater, the oxygen in his brain and lungs feeling too light and thin for it to be natural. His soul was bared for all to see, and the eyes on him only intensified the feeling that his secret was out.  

Had he accidentally triggered the PA system to turn on beforehand, just in time for the entire student body of Jefferson Middle School to hear his confession?  Is that why the On Air sign had been turned on without him pressing a single button?  

The pieces of the puzzling mystery were interlocking one by one, Cyrus’s confusion clearing itself up, but a different kind of front clouded his mind now.  He felt anger and fear roll over him in cascades at this revelation, at himself for being so stupid.  How could he have been so careless?  Cyrus had always been so worried about keeping the truth about himself from his friends, but now everyone in the entire school knew, too!  Wasn’t his moment supposed to be at his time, at his choosing?

“Underdog,” he heard someone mumble endearingly, quiet enough for only him to hear, but his brain couldn’t register who because his mind too busy really with whats and whys.  Why today?  Why him?  What was going to happen now?  Would everyone hate him?

What did T.J. think of him?  

Before he could even register that his feet were moving, Cyrus was already pushing past the multitudes of his classmates that had gathered around in the hallways to watch him.  The suddenly silent corridor was far too loud for him when his mind was screaming with words of his own.

“Cyrus!” he heard a voice faintly call in the distance, but he didn’t dare look back, the whispering, the pity, disgust, and shock written on people’s faces and glimmering in their eyes being too much for him to even comprehend.  

Just…why?

Cyrus’s soon tired feet stumbled into a deserted classroom, and he let out a choked sob that he didn’t know he had been holding back until he burst.  Like a dam that broke after too much pressure.  

And there was no point in holding back the floodwaters back now.  

T.J. called after the broken boy, the fragments of his splintered heart shattered on the ground before him, and he shouted his name, not caring who heard him or what they thought about him and Cyrus.  Cyrus was not alright by any circumstances, and T.J. needed to do everything in his power to put back together the fractured, deflated boy who had just had his entire world crumble before his eyes.

Cyrus didn’t deserve this, didn’t deserve any of this.  So why was someone so giving and warm-hearted being dealt the worst hand in life?

T.J. would take all of Cyrus’s pain if given the chance.

He moved forward to go after Cyrus, to collect the pieces of him and put them back together, but a strong, dark hand protruded forth and pushed against T.J.’s chest, inhibiting his movements.  

“I need to talk to Cyrus,” T.J. said adamantly, shoving her hand away.  He propelled forth, but Buffy grabbed his shoulder roughly this time instead, forcing him to pause in motion once more.

“Listen, T.J.,” she started.  She paused, choosing her words carefully in her mind.  Buffy knew how much T.J. meant to Cyrus (and vice versa, although she still had no idea why the older boy was so enamored by her best friend), but how did she know T.J. wasn’t going to judge Cyrus?  Cyrus had just admitted to the entire school that he liked T.J. Kippen, infamous jerk (well, formerly, she could begrudgingly admit) of the basketball team.  Would Cyrus...liking boys mar the two’s friendship, causing T.J. to end their relationship in retaliation?  Or worse, would he bully Cyrus because of it?  “How do I know I can trust you?”

Andi nodded along beside them, and Buffy had almost forgotten she was there in the midst of all that had happened over the course of a few minutes.  

T.J. let out a loud huff of exasperation at the pair’s hesitance and lack of faith in him, and he lowered his voice so that intruding ears couldn’t hear his words.  “I really like him, Buffy.  You can trust me.”

Buffy snatched her hand from T.J.’s shoulder as if she had been stung, alarm bells chiming obnoxiously in her head.  “What do you mean you like him?” she asked him, her voice almost having an accusatory tone to it.  Buffy wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer.  

“I think you know what I mean,” T.J. said, his irritation emitting off him in thick waves.  Leaving Buffy and Andi completely stunned, their mouths agape and eyes wide in shock, T.J. propelled through the crowd of students.  He felt indescribable relief wash over him as the bell rang for everyone’s next class, giving him more space in the hallway to roam as people clambered into their respective classrooms.  He anxiously peered into different sets of pellucid windows and slightly ajar doors, praying and hoping that he could somehow win the lottery and find Cyrus amongst the labyrinth of the school hallways (and all the while not getting caught by a teacher, or worse: Dr. Metcalf).  

Finally, T.J. peeked into an empty classroom not far off from their lockerbay (he should’ve known that Cyrus wouldn’t have strayed far, especially if it meant less running for the shorter boy) and caught a wisp of dark hair and a blue cardigan.  

Cyrus, T.J. thought in relief.

He hesitantly stepped through the threshold, shoving his hands into the pocket of his Jefferson Middle School sweatshirt so Cyrus wouldn’t notice the fidgeting of his fingers.  It would be just like Cyrus to notice an unimportant detail like that.  Probably his shrink parents’ impact, T.J. noted to himself in understanding.

He immediately took in the way Cyrus’s form was slouched and tired, the boy completely exhausted with grief as he sat on the edge of a chair behind one of the massive science desks in the room, and T.J. felt a pang of anguish for the other boy as he slid into the seat beside him  He doesn’t deserve this.  

No one did.

Cyrus met his intent gaze with a trembling lift of the head, his chin wobbling and his eyes glinting with unshed tears.  With that one glance, T.J. could see so much fear and heartache in Cyrus’s eyes, and it was so much for him to handle that he found his fingers extending forth, yearning to tell Cyrus with their touch that everything would be fine, that he could relate to the fear of everyone knowing, of what it might mean.  They planted themselves on the baseline of Cyrus’s wrist, barely brushing against them.  T.J. was almost afraid to touch him, as if Cyrus were a glass figurine that could easily snap at a too harsh of a caress.  He certainly looked fragile enough to break right now, T.J. could tell that much.

Drops of salty tears only continued to roll down Cyrus’s cheeks in distress, and T.J. hated that he couldn’t stop them.  If only he could take this burden off Cyrus’s shoulders, carry the pain for him, help him not be alone.  

But Cyrus was outed now.  And there was nothing T.J. could do to take that back, no matter how much he wished he could.

“What are you doing here, T.J.?” Cyrus asked tiredly, the exhaustion creeping in on his voice.  T.J. felt his stomach swirl uneasily at Cyrus’s beaten expression.  He had never seen the boy look so defeated before, not even on their many trips to the swings.  “You shouldn’t be here, you have class,” Cyrus reminded him, wiping away the tears with he heel of his hand.

Why was Cyrus always so concerned with others instead of himself?  He had just announced to the entire school that he liked boys, that boy being T.J. more specifically, and yet he was still fretting over the unnecessary pieces of T.J.’s life.  

The basketball player raised an eyebrow incredulously at the shorter boy and snorted.  “You just outed yourself and you’re worried about me missing class?” he asked.

Cyrus took a deep breath and pursed his lips, his thoughts solely circulating around his current self-deprecation.  “I can’t believe I just did that, T.J.,” he admitted, his tone forlorn. He glanced in the other boy’s direction and glimpsed down at T.J.’s fingers, the basketball player’s digits poised on the posterior of his hand, and he felt a ping in his chest at the small, but sweet, gesture.  

“How am I even going to face any of our classmates?” Cyrus questioned aloud, his brow furrowing in fear.  He squeezed his eyes shut, allowing the turmoil of it to wash over him, and a sick part of him almost laughed at the irony of it all.  Cyrus had gone into school that morning like every other day of his life, and yet here he was, in a predicament he never thought he’d find himself in.  And now he was skipping class with T.J. because he had just outed himself to the entire school, letting them all know that he had a huge crush on T.J. Kipp—

Oh no, Cyrus thought to himself, realization finally striking him.  I just told the entire school I have a huge crush on T.J. Kippen.  What if T.J. hated him?  What if he didn’t like this part of him and refused to be friends with him anymore?

Since T.J. hadn’t heard the announcements himself, did he know just about the liking boys part, or was he aware that he had admitted that he liked T.J., too?

His eyes shone with terror at the possibilities that could be going on in T.J.’s head, and T.J. immediately noticed the drastic change in his demeanor.  Cyrus’s spine was suddenly stiff, and he was leaning away from T.J.’s touch, both of which were abnormal for the boy.

Then again, nothing about this situation was the norm.

“Cyrus?” T.J. asked in confusion.  He retracted his hand at Cyrus’s distant body language and frowned.  

Cyrus took in a quivering, shaky breath, hesitantly meeting T.J.’s eyes, and the fear in his wide, brown orbs pierced right through T.J.’s heart.  Was he afraid of what their classmates would think?

Or was he scared of him?

“Are you okay with all of…this?” Cyrus gestured, ending his sentence lamely.  T.J. got the gist.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” T.J. asked, seeming so unbothered by it all that Cyrus felt relief surge his whole body.  

“Oh, thank goodness,” he let out.  “It’s going to be hard enough facing the rest of the school after this, but I don’t know what I’d do if you stopped being friends with me,” he revealed with a sniffle, wiping a few stray tears from his cheeks.  

T.J.’s chest swelled at the thought of Cyrus caring about their friendship, but it immediately deflated at the realization of the hardships Cyrus was going to have to face.  “I’m going to be here.  We can do this together,” T.J. insisted.

Cyrus’s insides turned; this wasn’t just another thing they could cross off his bucket list.  He had to go at this alone.  There was no other choice.  “You don’t understand, T.J. There is no ‘we’.  You can’t help me on this one,” Cyrus tried to explain desperately, his chest aching as his mind was processing it all.  How was he going to do any of this without his main source of confidence?

T.J. shook his head adamantly, drawing in a deep breath between his parted lips.  “Cyrus…I know exactly how you feel.”

The words hung stiffly in the air before Cyrus’s mind was whirring with possibilities of what T.J. meant, the words sounding too familiar to be a coincidence.  Oh.  Did he mean…no, he can’t mean that…can he?  “T.J., what—”

T.J. interrupted him, saving him from any questions by answering them all with one simple, three-word sentence: “I’m gay, too.”  

The string of unfamiliar words were jarring to Cyrus.  He hadn’t even admitted it to himself aloud before, and yet T.J. just made it look so easy, made the words flow so naturally from his tongue without any wavering or stumbling.

At Cyrus’s loss of words, T.J. continued to speak.  “And I’m not exactly out yet,” he admitted, tilting his head once to the side, “but I’d be willing to if it meant helping you.”  

Cyrus’s own lips parted in surprise, and his chest bubbled with a feeling so warm and full that he felt like he could cry all over again.  “You…,” he took in a stunned gulp of air to refill his breathless lungs, “you’d do that for me?” Cyrus asked, stuttering over his words in the shock of it all.

The left corner of T.J.’s mouth tugged up, and Cyrus felt the genuity radiating from the basketball player’s signature smirk.  “Of course I would, Underdog.”

“T.J.,” Cyrus started, at a loss for words.  He peered up at T.J. through the eyelashes casted upon his cheeks, and his eyebrows knitted together in worry.  “I don’t want you to come out just because of me,” Cyrus revealed.  He glimpsed at the hand lingering on the table beside his thigh, and he took a huge leap of courage and enveloped his fingers tightly around T.J.’s wrist, ignoring the loud pounding of his heartbeat in his chest.  He prayed T.J. couldn’t hear it within their close proximity.  “It should be when you decide.  I don’t want to take that away from you.”  Like I accidentally took it away from myself.

“Cyrus,” T.J. enunciated, and Cyrus felt his heart melt at the way T.J. said his name.  It sounded like sweet syrup coming from his lips, and he wondered if T.J. meant to relay the undertones of endearment and caring the way he did.  “I’m choosing now.  I’m not afraid anymore,” he confessed.  His hand shifted under Cyrus’s grasp, and Cyrus, thinking T.J. was moving away from him, went to retract his own, but, before he could, T.J. weaved his fingers through the empty slots of his, keeping their palms flat on the table.  “And, by the way, I like you, too,” T.J. acknowledged with a beam, and Cyrus felt warmth flood him all over, the feeling even spreading to his cheeks, tinging them a light pink.  

“You like me?” Cyrus asked in pure disbelief.  Almost like he had never heard of the concept before. “T.J. Kippen likes me,” he stated again, his voice on the edge of being giddy.  He was trying to make sense of it all, and despite the cogs of his brain whirring at unimaginable speed, Cyrus still couldn’t fully grasp the words.  T.J. must’ve known about Cyrus’s confession on the announcements then.  But seriously, how was this even happening right now?  Was this even real life?  

Today ranked high on things Cyrus never thought possible, that’s for sure.

“Yeah,” T.J. said, a slight smirk adorning his face.  “I do.”

Cyrus’s breath caught in his throat, his lips curving wide at the words.  “I like you, too, T.J.” The confession of his crush to his crush felt like a breath of fresh air to his aching lungs, like a large weight being lifted off his chest, and the exhilarating feeling of looking into T.J.’s green eyes managed to make his heart skip beats.  

T.J. smirked slightly, glancing down as he laughed silently through his nose.  “I kind of figured,” he said, a teasing lilt to his voice, and Cyrus’s cheeks flooded with warmth.

“Oh, right,” Cyrus said, rubbing his face embarrassedly (although the smile was somehow unwavering, despite all that had just happened).  “This is all new to me—”

“Me too,” T.J. inputted, and they both shared a smile, beaming at how despite all their differences, they had this one very important piece of them in common.  That was something neither boy had ever imagined possible, and yet here they were, confessing their feelings for the other.

It was…nice for a change.  Cyrus usually lived in his comfort zone, only thriving in his safe little bubble outside of the cruel atmosphere of the world, and yet T.J. kept pushing him out of it, bringing him to do the unexpected.

And now he might be getting his first boyfriend.  Huh.  Today had been shocking on all kinds of levels, that was for sure.

Cyrus still couldn’t help but hope that it had been under different circumstances.  Now the hard part was only beginning: he had to go out there with a brave mask and face all of his classmates.  If he knew anything about Jefferson Middle School, it was that gossip spread fast, just like it had when Amber and Jonah had broken up (and gotten back together, and then broken up once more…but that was besides the point), and he was afraid the news would reach his parents before he got a chance to come out to them himself.

He couldn’t think of a worse situation than that.

“Does that mean you’re my…my…,” Cyrus stuttered.  He couldn’t even spit the word out.  Boyfriend.  It was a simple word, and Andi and Jonah had no trouble flinging it around like it meant nothing, but to Cyrus it held a much more complex weight.  It meant things would change.  

Was he ready for that kind of change?

Then again, all sorts of things seemed to be changing today, and it didn’t seem like he had too much choice in the matter.

“Boyfriend?” T.J. asked, shaking Cyrus from his thoughts, and the word made Cyrus’s heart sputter.  He had always contemplated the possibility of having a boyfriend, but he never thought it would actually happen, let alone with T.J. Kippen, captain of the basketball team.  His best friend’s ex-nemesis.  

One of his closest friends and now crush.

The fact that Cyrus was so close to T.J.’s face didn’t help much in the matter.  He could easily count the freckles splayed on T.J.’s cheeks if granted the opportunity.

“Is that what you want us to be?” T.J. asked, and Cyrus felt his heart screaming one thing and his brain instructing another.  His mind was warning him against it, telling him it would end badly and that he’d lose one of his closest friends if he went through with it.

His heart won out.

“Yes,” Cyrus breathed out, feeling any remaining air trapped in his longs evaporate.  “That’s what I want.”

T.J. beamed.  “I guess I’m your boyfriend, then.”

“I guess you’re mine,” Cyrus replied with the same expression, and he suddenly felt giddy, feeling like he had all the energy in the world.  He wondered if this feeling would ever wear off.

Cyrus found out when the bell blared throughout the school building, the dark ringing of it sounding eerily like his death toll.  Cyrus gulped as his nerves suddenly swirled throughout his body once more.  His veins were flowing with the same kind of anxious energy, and his legs suddenly went weak.  This is it.

“I don’t think I can do this,” Cyrus confessed.  The fear that pierced his heart felt a lot like an icicle poking at his chest, its freezing, crystalline shrapnel puncturing through him like a bullet.

“We’re doing it together, Underdog,” T.J. reminded him, ruffling his hair.  Cyrus doubted his words. Was he ready to take this plunge?  

T.J. noticed the shorter boy’s hesitancy in the tweak of his brow and the worried lines etched on his forehead, and he arched his own eyebrows at the shorter boy.  “You ready?” he asked, offering a strong, reassuring hand out for Cyrus to take.  T.J. had boundless confidence in spades, and Cyrus could feel it rolling off T.J. in immense waves, giving him that courageous boost he needed.  

Cyrus joined their hands, intertwining them.  Yes, he thought to himself as his heart pounded in his chest, I’m definitely taking this plunge.  Cyrus thought as long as T.J.’s hand was bound tightly to his, giving him reassuring squeezes to match the concerned gazes he’d send him out of the corner of his eye, anything was possible.

Who knows? Cyrus thought to himself as they walked down the hallway together, hand in hand.  Him and T.J. shared a glance and exchanged a confident smile before Cyrus felt another shot of courage spike through him.  Feeling particularly daring, he swung their hands in between them like a carefree pendulum, which drew even more attention to them than they already had.  Maybe there’s a silver lining to this mess after all!

When T.J. and him eventually reached the entrance of Cyrus’s next period class, the pair pausing by the frame of the door, T.J. unclasped their hands (much to Cyrus’s reluctance) and tugged off his hoodie, turning and folding it over in his hands.  “For you,” he offered him, his boyfriend (the word itself made something indescribable bubble in Cyrus’s chest).  Cyrus looked worriedly around them, prying, intrusive eyes constantly flickering to the pair, but T.J. was insistent, and he pushed the item of clothing adamantly against Cyrus’s chest.  “I want you to wear it,” the basketball player insisted, and Cyrus tried to ignore the way his heart was beating out of his chest.

“Then I will,” Cyrus relented, a light smile crossing his face.

As Cyrus sat there in his next class, letting the sky blue fabric pool over his arms and torso, he couldn’t help but beam widely at the thought of his new revelations today.  Even though a billion eyes were on him and the entire school had discovered his most deepest, darkest secret, Cyrus chose to revel in the fact that he had a boyfriend who was willing enough to brave the world with him instead of hiding in the shadows.  Cyrus was tired of lurking in the dark (or better said, closet), and the fact that he was out basking in the sunshine of life with everyone else meant the world to him.

Suddenly, a conversation he and Buffy had had months ago flickered in his mind.  

“Buffy…am I gonna be okay?” he had asked, doubt and worry shining through his voice.

“Cyrus.,” Buffy assured him.  “You already are okay.”  And he was.

Don’t forget that my amazing talented friend Di (@spaceottersart) has posted artwork for this fanfiction here and here. Make sure to check it out because it blew me away! (We will be collabing together in the future because we are a dynamic duo and are iconic, I said what I said).

#andi mack #cyrus goodman #tj kippen #buffy driscoll #tyrus #outed #whew #what a wild ride

[too-many-kpop-hubands]

30 Day Fandom Challenge

Welcome to day 6 Ladies and Gentlemen. As always I am gonna tag the amazingly talented @domsberto and then head back over into the world of the spooky and supernatural for this next one.

Day 6- True Blood

1) Favorite Character: Lafayette Reynolds

Reason: Lafayette was freaking hilarious and a badass boss bitch. He had the funniest lines in the show and was savage at times. He was a very flamboyant character and I adore those types of characters. He trusted only a few people but was loyal as hell to the select few he let in his circle. When he actually had lover he was faithful and devoted to them, even in death in the case of Jesus. He had his demons but he handled them with grace and a sense of humor, not to mention lots of alcohol and weed. He was a medium which was pretty cool but it also lead to some disastrous situations (like stealing babies and killing the love of his life). I adore his relationship with his cousin, Tara, that borders more on that of siblings than cousins. He has no tolerance for ignorance or bullying, as seen when he put a table full of rednecks in their place for their gay slurs, and he backs up what he says. He is fully capable of handling himself in a fight and is just an all around amazing person.

Rest in Peace Nelsan Ellis! You are missed still to this day! ❤❤❤

2) Most Relatable Character: Hoyt Fortenberry

Reason: Hoyt reminds me alot of Matt from Vampire Diaries, honestly. He is sweet and kind-hearted and according to Sookie, who can read minds, his thoughts are consistently kind and open compared to everyone else around her. He is also remarkably progressive toward vampires and other social outcasts. This is in stark contrast to his mother, Maxine, who was extremely prejudiced and judgmental of most people, humans and vampires alike. His lack of experience with, and high respect for, women makes him extremely shy around them. Unlike his best friend Jason Stackhouse, he has no desire for frivolous hook-ups, and remains a virgin until he meets and falls in love with the vampire Jessica Hamby. Whem we first meet Hoyt in the first season, he is bossed around by his mother, but begins to assert his independence as the show progressed. Throughout the series, his character development shifts from happy-go-lucky to a much more serious and emotional young man. I can relate to Hoyt because I tend to he shy around men and women I am attracted to because despite having been married for the past 13 years, I didn't really have much experience before I met my husband and I was really self conscious. I also get what it's like to have an overbearing mother and having to eventually put my foot down with her. Hoyt is also one of the most genuine and "normal" of all the characters in the show. This is why he is the most relatable.

3) Most Underrated Character: Godric

Reason: Godric was only alive for one season and the fans grew to love him so much that after his suicide on the show, they wrote him into the show in later seasons as hallucinations and dreams that Eric, Sookie and sometimes Nora had. He is one of my favorite characters, quite possibly tied with Lafayette honestly. During his time on the show, Godric (who happens to be the maker of Eric Northman) was the Sheriff of the Dallas vampires and one of the oldest living vampires to date. He was a badass, as seen when he saves Sookie when she was almost raped and when he comes in to put an end to the fighting between vampires and the Fellowship of the sun. He was ruthless and a very capable leader, putting people in their place when need be (as seen when he banished Lorena from Dallas for causing trouble). He once lived by a moral code of "There is no right or wrong, only survival or death.", seeing humans as disposable and caring very little for human life. Humans were a means to an end until he grew older and began to relate more to humans. He came to realize that the human race's fear and hatred of vampires was well founded, and that he had contributed to it. He evolved over time and his wisdom and compassion grew. He is perhaps the best-natured vampire seen on the show.

He cared deeply for his progenies, Eric and Nora, and he was one of the few people who could turn Eric into an emotional mess (as seen when Godric decided to end his life). Godric was compassionate and kind but if you crossed him, he could snap your neck without even blinking or thinking twice. He was such an underrated character but I adored him so much.

4 & 5) Most Overrated Character & Least Favorite Character: Sookie Stackhouse

Reason: So Sookie is the main character and honestly she annoys the hell out of me. She acts like your stereotypical trailer trash, you know the type. The kind of girl that gives us Southern girls a bad name? Yes that type. She had every guy in the show that wasn't gay or family chomping at the bit to try to get in her pants. She constantly found herself knee deep in trouble at every turn, "Must be a Thursday." to quote her. She toys with the boys who fall in love with her unintentionally and honestly she isn't the most attractive on the show to warrant so many male suitors. For a fairy with special powers, she has no idea what she is doing half the time and like Elena in Vampire Diaries, she often makes things worse and ends up having to be saved by someone who knows what they are doing. She is overrated and my least favorite character in the series, despite being the main character. While she has a few good qualities and some decent scenes sometimes, I really can't stand her.

Pam made a comment once that stands out “I am so over Sookie and her precious fairy vagina and her unbelievably stupid name! F*ck Sookie!”

6) Favorite Canon Pairing: Hoyt Fortenberry & Jessica Hamby [Close 2nd Honorable Mention- Lafayette Reynolds & Jesus Velasquez]

Reason: Jessica and Hoyt were perfect for each other plain and simple. They both lost their virginity to each other (granted since Jessica was a virgin when she turned she never truly loses her virginity because her hymen keeps growing back) and had a sweet and loving relationship. When they ended things and she slept with his best friend, Jason, Hoyt was so distraught that he asked Jessica to glamor him into forgetting they had ever met and fallen in love before leaving town. They found their way back to each other in the final season and fell in love all over again as if they had never fallen apart to begin with and eventually got married before Jessica's maker, Bill, died. They had a beautiful and pure love that surpassed even memory wipes and I love them so much together.

7) Favorite Non-Canon Pairing: Eric Northman & Pamela "Pam" Swynford de Beaufont

Reason: While Pam tended to lean more toward women most of the time it was implied time and time again that she and Eric had a romantic or sexual history together prior to him turning her into a vampire. The chemistry between Eric and Pam is amazing and goes well beyond that of the typical sire/progeny bond. They loved each other on a deep level, one could possibly consider the love that Eric and Pam had for each other agape which is the highest form of love that surpasses traditional romantic and sexual feelings toward a person. They had an unbreakable bond and even when Eric released her as his progeny, Pam still stayed at Eric's side no matter what the cost. I wish that they could have been a romantic couple in the canon universe but sadly that never happened. Their love for one another still lives on in the hearts of us fans to this day.

8) Least Favorite Pairing: Sookie Stackhouse & Bill Compton

Reason: Besides the fact that I really can't stand Sookie, I loathed Sookie and Bill as a couple on the show. They were back and forth so much with their relationship that it made my head spin half the time and when they actually stayed together, the relationship itself was pretty boring compared to some of the other relationships on the show. Sookie could never make up her mind on exactly who it was she wanted to be with and that left her juggling Bill, Eric, Sam and Alcide before ending up with a faceless and nameless man by the end of the show. They had their good moments, don't get me wrong, that made me actually like them but then one of them would do or say something stupid and I would go back to loathing the ship as a whole. Though I will admit it was both heartbreaking and poetic when Sookie ended Bill's suffering in the end. I still feel like there are better couples on the show.

I will admit though that outside of the show I think Anna Paquin and Stephen Moyer have a beautiful marriage and beautiful children so my opinion doesn't reflect on the actors personally but rather their characters on the show.

9) Favorote Part/Moment: The Aids Burger Incident AKA Lafayette Vs The Ignorant Rednecks

Reason: This scene is my favorite scene because first of all Lafayette was a savage and proved that he will not tolerate ignorance from anyone. He put the rednecks in their place when one of them sent back their food because they refused to eat it because "The burger might have Aids.", directly referencing Lafayette who was cooking that night who is openly gay. In that scene he took the burger back out to the customers and confronted them for their gay slur in one of the most epic manners possibly before shoving the "Aids Burger" in the man's face. He proved that he could handle himself in a fight when he kicked his friends' asses before delivering a final quip of "Tip Your Waitress" before walking away like the boss ass bitch he was, fist bumping and impressed Jason Stackhouse on his way back to the kitchen to finish his job. Lafayette was amazing in this scene and I have to give the late Nelsan Ellis credit for such an epic performance. I post a video of this once a year during Pride Month to show one of the most epic scenes of an openly gay man standing up for himself and fellow gay men against ignorant bigots. It was amazing. I will post the video directly following this post.

10) Least Favorite Part/Moment: The Entire F***ed up Billith Situation [Honorable Mentions: Godric's suicide- it was sad as hell but hauntingly beautiful, The Witches induce Amnesia on Eric, Marnie Possesses Lafayette and makes him kill the love of his life Jesus, Tommy Dies to Save Sam]

Reason: My least favorite part was when Bill merged with the mother of all vampires, Lilith, to become this super powerful and equally psychotic vampire deemed "Billith". The entire situation was just stupid and you could tell that during that season the writers ran out of ideas for what to add into the show. It was far-fetched and pretty OP and that's why I consider this one of the worst parts of True Blood.

Back at you soon with today's post since I'm behind by a day.

#fandom challenge

[spaztronautwriter]

Office Rumors & Conspiracy Theories

A/N: I wrote this way back in the beginning of season 4. It wasn’t quite finished so I just slapped on a quick ending, but I fell back in love with this idea when I reread it and really wanted to post it, so… enjoy!

Read on AO3

###

McKenna pushed through the doors of Palmer Tech, a feeling of resignation settling in her gut. Her leg—the very reason she was here in the first place—ached a little as she put pressure on it, proving that this was where she belonged now.

No more police force. No more vice squad. No more stopping criminals or helping those in need.

Hell, McKenna called it a success when she could walk up the steps to her apartment building without the muscles in her leg knotting in pain.

It had been over two years since the accident. Hmph. Accident! Accident is what her sister called it. McKenna liked to think of it as when the psycho known as The Huntress shot her with a shotgun, destroying not only her right leg, but her career as well. Now she was reduced to life as a rent-a-cop.

Sitting behind desks, standing beside elevators, checking IDs. Being a cop may not have been glamorous, but at least it had been interesting. Most days the hardest part of her job was staying awake.

At first, after going through nearly seven agonizing months of rehab, she’d taken a job at the Coast City Police Department. She’d even enjoyed her desk job there, but that was when she still believed she had a chance to regain what she’d lost. Her dreams were dashed when she was told the only way out from behind the desk was to complete the physical ability test. Which she couldn’t. Not with her leg. The leg that was injured because she didn’t wait for backup like she was told.

Ugh. Maybe I do belong watching security monitors for the rest of my life, she thought as she shuffled through the lobby and up to the reception desk. It was early and there were a lot of employees rushing around, trying to get to their offices before their supervisors realized they were late, no doubt, which meant McKenna had to be careful to stay out of their way.

It normally wasn’t a huge deal for her. Walking she could handle. She could even run short distances without any pain. But Starling’s damp weather was really getting to her this morning.

Star City, she corrected herself with a small shake of her head.

It was crazy to think that her city had changed so much since she’d been away. Starling was literally a different city than when she’d left. Most of her friends on the police force had either moved on or had been killed in the siege two years ago and the man she’d been dating before the incident was now running for Mayor. A man who, she remembered quite vividly, used to party harder than almost anyone she knew in high school and seemed to be allergic to responsibility of any kind.

Well, that wasn’t really fair of her. It had been years since she’d seen him, and he had offered to come visit her in Coast City after the incident to try to maintain a relationship, but McKenna wasn’t stupid. She’d known it wouldn’t work before he’d ever even offered. She knew him, and she knew he would do the right thing in the moment, but it would become a chore after a while, and if there was one thing McKenna never wanted to be it was someone’s chore.

So she’d moved on from him and she’d moved on from the city and now, two years later, she was back and everything was different. It’s just going to take some getting used to, that’s all, she assured herself, checking in at reception and getting a guest pass from security.

“Ms. Hall?” A tall, gawky man approached her with a smile. He was wearing the white and navy blue uniform that signaled he worked in security. “The Coast City office told us to expect you. You’re interview is at 8:15. If you wouldn’t mind waiting over in the lobby, I’ll take you up myself.”

“Sure thing,” McKenna said with a forced smile. It wasn’t this man’s fault she was stuck taking a dead end job in security when all she wanted was her life back.

After realizing she’d never be a real cop again, McKenna had quit the force and taken a job at Palmer Tech in Coast City. It was a decent job and she made better money than when she was a cop, but it wasn’t what she wanted to be doing. It wasn’t what she’d dreamed of since she was a kid. She wanted to help people and take down the bad guys. Solve mysteries. But the biggest mystery she’d solved as a security guard was who was stealing lunches out of the employee’s lounge mini fridge.

She’d had enough, so when she found out that the Starling—Star—City mayor’s office was considering putting together a task force in conjunction with the vigilantes running around the city she jumped at the chance, despite the fact that her career was ended by one of those so called vigilantes. Like she’d said, a lot had changed in the city since she’d left and apparently vigilantism was all the rage now, and, as long as these vigilantes weren’t killing, the police weren’t going after them.

McKenna wasn’t sure she was okay with the idea of masked men and women running around the city doing the police’s job, but she also knew that the closest she could get to field work would be if she got onto that task force. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a thing yet, more of a rumor, an idea that someone had had and that Oliver Queen, newly announced mayoral candidate, was backing. But he had to be elected mayor first. And she’d have to swallow her pride and go see if he’d consider her for a position. She hated to beg an ex-boyfriend for a favor, but she really needed this favor. Or else she’d be stuck in Palmer Tech for the rest of her life.

“Did you hear they’re changing the name?” A voice broke through her reverie, pulling her back to the crowded lobby. “They haven’t officially announced it yet, but rumor has it we’ll all be working for Queen Incorporated within the next month or so.”

A young red headed man, maybe twenty four or twenty five, was standing a few feet away from the seat McKenna had positioned herself in. He was speaking to a small brunette woman in a navy skirt and a black blazer.

The woman shrugged. “So? As long as they’re not letting anyone go, I couldn’t care less what name is on the side of the building.”

“But don’t you think it’s a little fishy?” the man said, trying to keep his voice low. “I mean, Mr. Palmer disappears under mysterious circumstances and suddenly this woman takes over and changes—”

“This woman?” the brunette huffed. “The Vice President of the company, you mean? Honestly, Ethan, you need to stop watching those psychological thriller movies. They’re warping your brain.”

The woman walked off, sipping a cup of coffee as she made her way to the elevators, but McKenna was intrigued. Not only because she was bored—God, was she bored—but because of the mention of the name Queen.

“Excuse me,” she said, getting the man’s attention. He looked over with a helpful smile, like she was about to ask him directions or for the time. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help but overhear. You were saying the company was changing its name?”

The man’s smile turned conspiratorial as he practically fell into the seat beside her. “You didn’t hear it from me,” he said in a low voice. “It hasn’t been officially announced yet. I’m the new Vice President’s executive assistant and, well, things like that tend to cross my desk first.”

McKenna nearly rolled her eyes. Of course an assistant would be spreading office gossip. Their jobs had to be nearly as boring as McKenna’s.

“But the thing that I find funny” he continued, “is that Ms. Smoak, the new CEO, is changing the name to Queen Inc. That’s what the name used to be before Palmer Technologies took it over. Well,” he said, with a shrug, “it used to be Queen Consolidated, but close enough, right?”

McKenna decided to play along. “So why would Ms. Smoak name her company after the Queens?” she asked.

Ethan brightened when he realized McKenna was looking for juicer gossip than just a name change. “Rumor has it that she’s dating Oliver Queen.”

Something in McKenna’s gut tightened at that, but it wasn’t jealousy. At least, she was pretty sure it wasn’t jealousy. She didn’t have time to think on it much because Ethan was still talking.

“But the fishy part is that last spring she was dating Ray Palmer. Right before the explosion.”

McKenna had, of course, heard about the explosion and Ray Palmer’s disappearance since she’d been working at Palmer Tech at the time. The CEO of your company doesn’t just go missing without gossip getting around. But this was the first she was hearing of a Ms. Smoak.

“So what’s fishy about that?” she asked.

Ethan smiled a little and leaned closer. “Mr. Palmer had signed the company over to her right before he disappeared. Allegedly. The contract wasn’t found until two months ago when Ms. Smoak came back to town.” He paused for obvious dramatic effect. “After quitting her job and leaving the city for nearly six months.”

McKenna was at a loss. “And?”

“And?” Ethan repeated, clearly annoyed she wasn’t following. “And you don’t find it odd that the woman was dating her boss, got him to sign his billion dollar company over to her, and then ditches town at the same time there’s an accident in his lab and no one has seen him since?”

Well, when he put it that way… “But the police aren’t looking into her?” she asked. “No body was ever found or suspicion of foul play.” McKenna had read up on the case. It was one of the many ways she entertained herself at work.

“I know, I know,” Ethan said, waving her off. “But these are billionaires we’re talking about. They have ways of making people disappear. Plus,” he added, smiling that conspiratorial smile again, “Ms. Smoak used to be Oliver Queen’s executive assistant before she became the VP of Palmer Tech—talk about a career leap—and now she’s dating him and putting his name back on the building? Seems suspicious to me.”

McKenna had initially started this conversation because she’d been curious about Oliver getting his family’s company back, but now she had to admit, Ethan had her curious. An assistant didn’t just get promoted to VP overnight, unless she was sleeping with the boss, which this Ms. Smoak supposedly was. And the fact that the boss had signed his company over to her and then disappeared was highly suspicious. It did reek of corporate thriller movie material. Billionaire loses everything and gets his former assistant to sleep her way to the top so that they can take his family’s company back and kill the man that took it all from him.

McKenna nearly laughed out loud at her own thoughts. This was Oliver she was talking about. Oliver Queen. The man couldn’t hurt a fly. And he didn’t have the smarts or the patience to plot something as sinister as what she had imagined.

Maybe I should write suspense novels while I check IDs for the rest of my life. At least it would keep her mind occupied.

But, then, was it really that crazy a thought? Oliver being involved might be out there, but she’d never heard of this Ms. Smoak before. What’s to say she isn’t a crazy, conniving psycho looking for money and the power that comes with the Queen family name? She’d certainly be Oliver’s type, considering the girl he dated before me ended up shooting me in the leg with a shotgun.

“Ms. Hall?”

McKenna’s head snapped up when she heard her name called. The gawky security guard who’d offered to take her up to her interview was standing in front of her expectantly.

“I can take you up now,” he said, throwing her another smile. “I’m Gavin Riley, Assistant Director of Security. I’ll be conducting your interview.”

McKenna nodded, suddenly glad he hadn’t overheard her conversation with Ethan. What a way to start a job interview, gossiping about how the boss might have murdered her former employer-slash-boyfriend.

She followed Gavin to the elevators and stepped inside as soon as the doors slid open.

“This should be relatively easy, considering your job at the Coast City office. Your supervisor sent over a glowing recommendation and said he was sorry to see you go. What has you moving to Star City, Ms. Hall? If you don’t mind my asking.”

McKenna had just started in on her speech about how she’d grown up in Starling and thought it was time to move back, when a voice called out across the lobby.

“Hold that elevator! Please!”

Gavin’s hand shot out, stopping the doors from sliding shut at the very last second, and McKenna saw a tiny blonde woman running across the lobby floor, coffee in hand and a purse thrown over her shoulder. She was dressed in a bright purple peacoat with really great red heels on. Heels that, obviously, weren’t making it easy to run across the tiled lobby floor. By the time she made it to the elevator she looked spent.

“Thank you! Thank you,” she sighed as she leaned against the back wall of the elevator. “I’m already late for a meeting and it’s not even 8:30 in the morning.”

Gavin smiled kindly at the young woman. “That’s the price of being the boss, I guess.”

“Ugh. Don’t I know it.” The woman smiled back at Gavin and then turned towards McKenna, beside him. Something like recognition passed through her blue eyes and her head jerked to the side. “McKenna!”

McKenna was taken aback a moment before she responded. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”

The blonde flushed slightly, closing her eyes and scrunching her face up. She shook her head and waved the arm not holding the coffee as she spoke. “No! I mean, we’ve never met, but I know you. Or, I know of you, since we’ve, you know, never met. But I’ve heard all about you. Not all about you, but some things. Good things, of course. Sorry.” She wrapped up her speech with an apologetic grimace and smiled sweetly. “I’ve been better with the rambling recently, but it’s early and I’ve only had, like, two sips of my coffee. I’m Felicity,” she said, holding out her hand for McKenna to take. “Smoak. I’m a friend of Oliver’s.”

To say McKenna was surprised to hear that this was the Ms. Smoak Ethan had been gossiping about would have been an understatement. Her eyebrows shot up as she took in the woman before her. Her lipstick matched the color of her red heels and her blonde hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail, but she didn’t look like the owner of a multi-billion dollar company. Her glasses sat slightly askew on her face, her nails were painted an electric blue and she had an industrial bar through her right ear. And she rambled. There was nothing that shouted CEO about this girl and even less that shouted gold-digging murderer.

“McKenna Hall,” she said, taking the girl’s hand.

“I know,” Felicity smiled and then looked a little embarrassed. “I mean, obviously I know who you are, I shouted your name as soon as I saw you. Oliver and I were friends when you two were dating, so I kind of feel like I know you, even though I don’t,” she explained. “How are you? Are you back in Starling—I mean, Star City? It’s going to take me forever to get used to that.”

“Um, yeah,” McKenna answered, feeling that same twinge she’d felt before when she heard Oliver was dating this woman. Not jealousy, but like she was intruding someplace she didn’t belong, despite the fact that Felicity Smoak actually seemed incredibly welcoming. “I just moved back.”

Felicity smiled and then seemed to notice Gavin standing next to them. “Oh! Are you interviewing for a job?”

“Yes, ma'am,” McKenna replied.

“Oh,” Felicity waved her off. “Please, call me Felicity. Seriously,” she said with a small smile. “You and I have both seen the same man naked. It would be totally uncomfortable to have you call me ma'am while knowing that.” Then she slammed her eyes shut. “Not that it’s not totally uncomfortable that I said that. That’s, like, practically sexual harassment.”

“I don’t think that counts as sexual harassment, but don’t worry about it,” McKenna said, feeling sorry for the girl. “How is Oliver? You two are together now?”

“Yes!” Felicity smiled, her whole face lighting up at the mention of Oliver. “He’s doing good. We actually just got back to Starling ourselves. We spent the summer traveling.”

The grin on her face was contagious and McKenna felt her lips lift into a smile. “That sounds exciting. I guess Oliver moved passed that brooding stage he was going through when we were dating.”

“Not at all!” Felicity laughed. “He still broods, I don’t think he can help it. It’s like an unconscious reaction. But he’s happy. Happier than he’s been in awhile, and that’s all I care about.”

“Getting the company back must have made him happy.” McKenna wanted to take the words back as soon as she said them. It wasn’t that they were accusing or rude in any way, but she knew why she’d said them. She’d said them because her stupid cop mind had latched onto the idea that this girl was involved in something suspicious and, even though after meeting her it seemed unlikely, it still wanted to investigate. “I mean, I heard some gossip… about a possible name change in the future.”

Felicity just smiled brightly, excitement exuding from her expression. “Oliver doesn’t know yet, so I didn’t want it to get out, but of course a secret like that wouldn’t stand up to the gossip in this place. I wanted it to be a surprise, changing the name back to Queen. I know he’ll fight me on it, but I don’t want his family to completely lose their legacy. This is the Queen family’s company, even if they don’t, technically, own it at the moment. I’d give it back to them if I could, but Oliver wouldn’t take it, neither will Thea.”

“You’d give them a multi-billion dollar company just because they used to own it?” Gavin asked.

McKenna and Felicity both startled at his question, looking over at him. He flushed, looking a little startled by his question himself.

“They’re family,” Felicity smiled. “Besides, being the boss has its price, like you said.” She looked down at her shoes and shook her head, smile still firmly on her face. “I could be at home with Oliver right now.” She looked up at McKenna and sighed. “Who doesn’t have to be anywhere until after noon today because he was smart enough to opt out of taking the company back.” Felicity rolled her eyes at herself. “I must sound whiny. I actually really appreciate the gift I’ve been given with this company. And when we find Ray I’m going to hug him to pieces, but then, after, I will be having a word with him about how he tricked me into accepting that gift.”

“You think he’s alive?” McKenna couldn’t stop herself from asking.

“I know he is,” Felicity said with absolute certainty, as the elevator doors slid open and Gavin began to step out. “He has to be.”

“I hope you’re right,” McKenna said, following Gavin out into the hallway, but holding the elevator door open to speak to Felicity. “I don’t want to keep you from your meeting, and I have an interview so…”

“Right,” Felicity said with a smile. “You’re interviewing for a position in security, I take it? Long way from being a cop.”

McKenna grimaced. “Being a cop isn’t really possible for me anymore, with the leg injury.”

It wasn’t quite pity McKenna saw in Felicity’s eyes, but it was close enough to make her uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry, McKenna,” she said, and she sounded genuinely sorry. “I wish that hadn’t happened to you. Oliver does too.”

McKenna shrugged, hoping not to make it a big deal. “Things like that happen. I have to move on. And I need a job. This one’s as good as any.”

She closed her eyes tightly when she realized what she’d just said in front of the CEO and the man who would be conducting her interview, but Felicity only nodded sympathetically.

“I was forced into this job, too,” she said, “but at least I genuinely enjoy most aspects of it. I couldn’t imagine not being able to do what I loved. I don’t think I could settle…” She tilted her head to the side suddenly, a look of determination taking over her face. “And you shouldn’t either.”

McKenna could only stare as the blonde smiled to herself.

“I have the perfect job for you, McKenna,” she said, pulling out her phone and tapping the screen. “Much better than some security position.” She jerked her head up. “No offense, Gavin. Security is a great field to be in and, believe me, I appreciate everything you guys do, but this isn’t the job for McKenna.”

Felicity gestured for McKenna to step back into the elevator, before saying a quick goodbye to a totally confused looking Gavin.

“It’s not?” McKenna asked, also confused, but, as she stepped into the elevator, the twinge in her gut loosened for the first time since she’d walked into the building. Hell, for the first time since she found out she’d never be a cop again!

“No, it’s definitely not.” Felicity’s phone beeped and she grinned. She tapped something out and it beeped again a moment later, before she looked back up at McKenna. “You’re going to work for Oliver. Or, with Oliver. Sort of. He’s got this project…”

“The task force? With the vigilantes.”

Felicity tilted her head to the side questioningly.

“You hear all sorts of things in security,” McKenna explained with a shrug. She wasn’t sure she should admit that the task force was the whole reason she was moving back to Starling, or that she’d planned on quitting Palmer Tech if she was able to talk Oliver into hiring her. It seemed irrelevant now that Felicity had done it for her.

“Technically,” Felicity said, scrunching her nose up as she spoke, “there isn’t a task force for you to join, yet, so you’d be working on his security team with our friend John Diggle.”

“I remember Mr. Diggle,” McKenna said, pulling up a fuzzy picture of a tall black man in her mind. He’d been Oliver’s bodyguard back when she’d dated him, and apparently he still was.

Felicity smiled. “I know it’s still security, but it’s only until Oliver is elected and able to get the task force approved.”

“You really think he’ll win?” she asked, voicing her greatest concern.

“I’ve never seen Oliver fail once he sets his mind to something.”

As soon as the elevator doors slid open onto the executive floor, a flustered looking man in a suit came rushing out of a glass office, causing both McKenna and Felicity to look up. “Ms. Smoak, your first meeting is already here and he doesn’t seem very happy.”

Felicity sighed, taking a long swig of her coffee before handing the cup to the man. “Thanks, Jerry,” she said, before turning back to McKenna. “You should head over to Oliver’s campaign office this afternoon. They’ll get you all set up.”

“Thank you, Felicity,” McKenna said.

“It’s no problem,” she said with a smile. “I’ve got to go before Mr. Dennis has a conniption, but I’ll see you later!”

McKenna pushed the button for the lobby as she watched Felicity disappear into the glass office. She wanted to laugh at herself for ever having considered that the woman might be some murdering gold digger. It was ludicrous to even think about now that she’d met her. In fact, Felicity Smoak seemed to be exactly the opposite of what she’d assumed when talking to Ethan in the lobby.

McKenna wasn’t the type to enjoy being wrong about things, but she was genuinely glad she’d been wrong about Felicity Smoak. Not only did she just land McKenna her dream job in a matter of seconds—and without having to pathetically beg her ex for a shot—but she was glad that Oliver had found someone so warm and… alive. Back when they’d dated Oliver had been more withdrawn then she’d ever seen him. Side effects of being stranded on a desert island, she supposed. He’d tried to play the role of attentive boyfriend, but she’d been able to tell he wasn’t fully there. While she wasn’t sure how much Oliver had changed in the past three years, she was certain that Felicity Smoak was just the person he needed to help him readjust to the land of the living.

She could only hope that things went well with this security job and that, come May, Oliver would win the election, giving McKenna the opportunity to, once again, protect the city from criminals hell bent on seeing it in ruin. But, if not, well, at least she now had the plot for a really great crime novel.

#arrow fanfiction #olicity fanfiction #mckenna hall #felicity smoak

[abovethesmokestacks]

Oh, How We’ve Grown (3/4)

Title: Oh, How We’ve Grown Pairing: Bucky x Reader Rating: General Audiences Word count: 1.4k Warnings: swearing, feels? Spoilers: None

Apparently ten hours of sleep and waking up to freaking 400 notes does a lot to restore you from severe fatigue. You guys are being so kind, and I appreciate all the kind words you throw my way. So much so that and I may or may not have screenshotted some of your feedback to look at on a bad day. Only one chapter left after this one, I’m sort of nervous. As always, if you want in on the tag list, send me an ask. Do not ask in reblogs and replies because they tend to disappear in the notes, and I’d feel bad if I missed someone.

| chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4 |

III

We found weekend jobs, when we got paid We’d buy cheap spirits and drink them straight Me and my friends have not thrown up in so long

”Domino’s, may I take your order?”

So it’s not the most glamorous job in the world. It’s the worst. It’s slaving for minimum wage in Satan’s sweaty armpit while hoards of rude customers chip away at your faith in humanity. You keep repeating that it’s only for another couple of months more, that you need the money, that it’s a good experience. You roll your eyes when the line crackles as the customer hushes violently into the receiver.

”Shh! Shut up, Steve, I'mma order!”

No. No fucking way.

”Sam?”

”Huh? Sorry, did I misdial?” He sounds drunk, and you’re more than a little jealous. Working the evening shift on a Saturday night sucks extra hard.

”Not unless you want pizza. But it’s Sam, right? Sam Wilson?”

”Yeah…”

”We grew up together, you know my brother Clint, ” you explain. It’s been a while. A year or so, maybe two, possibly three, since you last saw him.

”Wait, is this… Baby Barton?”

The nickname stuck after that night when you got drunk for the first time, and you’ve bristled enough over it that even Clint’s over the novelty.

”I wish you’d stop calling me that.”

”Hell, no! Holy fuck, haven’t seen you in ages!”

”Technically, you’re not seeing me now either,” you point out into your headset.

”Still with the claws, Bab-” He almost says it but corrects himself with a swallow that might also be a suppressed burp. ”Barton.”

”What can I getcha?”

As much as you’d love to chat with Sam, you’re on the clock. Brass don’t like it when you stretch out calls for too long, and you’re already pushing it.

”Yo, Steve! Whaddaya havin’?”

You can’t hear the answer, and part of you is wondering if the Steve in the background is your Steve, Clint’s Steve, and if so… Shaking your head, you force the thought away. Out of all your brother’s friends, Bucky’s the one that’s seemingly disappeared from the face of the earth. You saw him at Christmas after the beer-incident, and the summer after, but then he never really came home. It pained you to not know where he went, however you didn’t feel like you could ask Clint. He was too invested in his studies, didn’t go to the same college, and at the time it felt too awkward to ask your brother why the friend you maybe-sorta had a crush on didn’t come home during breaks anymore. You only met up at the castle a couple more time, each time with fewer and fewer friends, until you realized it would only be you and Clint there, and no way in hell were you getting drunk with your brother.

”Barton? Barton!”

”Hmm?” Sam’s voice interrupts your little walk down memory lane.

”Did ya get that?”

”Sorry, bad line,” you lie, perking up to listen for real this time. “Could you say that again?”

”Three large pizzas, one New York, one Meat Feast and one Pepperoni Feast, two orders of cheesy bread and one order of chicken wings.”

”Got it.”

You repeat back the order, give Sam the total and take his address and credit card number, giving him an estimate of when his order will arrive.

”Hey, Barton, you should come hang out with us. ’S been a while, and… you know.”

”Sam, unless it’s slipped your attention, I’m working.”

”All night?”

Okay, so he has a point. You get off your shift in three hours. So what if you are dead on your feet now? You could just pop by, it isn’t too far from your own apartment as it turns out. No biggie. Right?

”Come on, Barton. You already have my address,” Sam teases, and you just knows he smiling that crooked smile, all white teeth and chivalrous charm that had all the neighbourhood ladies swooning over Mrs Wilson’s perfect little gentleman back in the day.

”Which I shouldn’t use for my personal gain!” you hiss at him.

”Come on…”

You sigh, looking over your shoulder. Your co-workers seem busy as ever, zipping back and forth. You shouldn’t. But what if… No. Yes. No. But-

”I get off in three hours,” you huffed. ”If I’m not dead, I might swing by.”

”You better! See you round, Baby Barton!”

You allow him that one, in part because Sam hangs up before you can chew him out. Three hours to decide. Pedaling home to conk out on the couch or pedaling off to a semi-reunion. It’s a choice that puts a pep in your step, and you breeze through the rude, drunk and semi-incoherent orders until it’s time to clock out. By the time you’re on your bike, you know you couldn’t resist temptation even if you tried.

Sam is a lot more buff than last time you saw him, but has apparently not learned how to hold his liquor. He’s a happy drunk, greeting you with a shot glass in each hand and exclaiming ”BABY BARTON!” so loudly it makes you wince quietly. It’s a bit embarrassing to have him herd you into the apartment, still in your work pants with a ratty band t-shirt and a sweater to keep you warm, declaring you to be his best friend’s baby sister to anyone still sober enough to listen and care.

”Hey, I thought I was your best friend!”

Steve is really your Steve, a mass of muscles and a backwards baseball cap that you hope is only ironic. When he envelopes you in a hug it’s something akin to hugging a mountain, but he’s as easygoing and polite as ever, running interference when Sam gets a bit too excited. You hover around them, gravitating towards Steve when Sam disappears for refills or a disastrous round of beer pong.

Of course you catch up. It’s standard, an exchange of data. Clint’s fine, he’s out trying to make good on his degree. It’s tough, market is what it is, blah blah. Really, Tony got hitched? Natasha’s a mystery as always, last Steve heard she was in Russia heading up a division for the company she worked for.

”So, what about Bucky?” you ask hesitantly.

Steve cocks his head, his eyes searching your face for something before answering.

”Military,” he then answers, taking a sip of his beer.

”What?”

”Yeah. Didn’t finish college. Dropped out and enlisted before our junior year.”

”Oh. Okay. Is he..?”

You’re not sure why you’re really asking. There was never anything there, nothing more than a silly high school crush that would never become anything. It was a kiss on the cheek, platonic in hindsight. So why is your heart thundering in your chest at the news of Bucky’s career?

”He’s fine. I think,” Steve blurts out, immediately backpedaling when he sees your shocked expression. ”No, no, he’s okay! He calls sometimes when he’s back at base, wherever the hell that ends up being. Shit, I have to tell him I met you next time he calls, he’ll be so stoked to hear about you!”

”W-why?”

It flashes across his face, so rapidly that anyone else might miss it, but time is different, you know that, and you see it clearly before it’s erased and replaced by an easy grin.

”People from the old block, you know. Where everyone ended up. So… where did you end up?”

He’s trying to avoid the subject, and you’re too tired, too overwhelmed to contest him. You offer up your own story, simple and boring as it might be while Steve nods in all the right places. Conversation dies between you after that, and you end up ducking out just as Sam pukes out the window.

You ponder the night as you bike home through deserted streets. Nothing’s like it used to be. When you finally stumble in through the door, you make a beeline for the sorry excuse of a box that constitutes your liquor cabinet, pulling out a bottle off off-brand, cheap-as-they-come vodka and taking a swig. Nostalgia and the wear of a long day thud dully behind your temples and you’re not sure if you want to remember or if this will go down as another “seemed like a good idea at the time”-deal. Try as you might, your thoughts wander, travelling unfathomable miles to a man with blue eyes and cropped hair, tucked away in some hellish corner of the world, and you weep for him when you fall into bed.

@loup-malin, @ursulaismymiddlename, @bakexprayxlove, @callamint,  @mrshopkirk, @tatortot2701, @ceebeetumbles, @avengerofyourheart, @booksandshowsandmovies-ohmy, @themcuhasruinedme, @creideamhgradochas, @feepsmoothie, @nuvoleincielo, @wellfuckbuck, @mellifluous-melodramas, @bovaria, @sebbytrash, @ouatalways, @awaitingjudgementx, @thelastjedl, @4theluvofall, @just-another-fangirl777, @avengingnights, @softwhispers, @therealgingermermaid, @c-maximoffs, @ipaintmelodies, @reniescarlett, @mizzzpink, @winter-in-wakanda, @seargantbcky, @dishonourablethief, @the-overly-attached-fangirl, @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme, @lostinspace33, @thetalesofmooseandsquirrel, @mirkwoods—princess, @lenavonschweetz, @ourpeachskies, @v271828, @caitsymichelle13, @noticulous, @abigrumple, @with-a-hint-of-pesto-aioli, @skeletoresinthebasement, @captainmqmeep, @vvintersouldier, @ayeputita, @netflixa, @theloveablesociopath, @themistsofmyavalon, @bailieinabottle, @thatisstilltheterm, @thedevilreadsbooks, @lenia1d, @prplprincez, @whenhumanityislost,

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #marvel imagine #bucky barnes imagine #au #songfic #my fics #fic: oh how we've grown

[hearsaykrp]

                 Presenting — yoon haejoon as the tern.

— info.

name / yoon haejoon birthday / 930501 pronouns / he/him occupation / freelance video editor

— traits.

( critical, sly, independent, dynamic )

critical – haejoon tends to view things in a negative light, easily finding fault in everything and everyone, himself included (at least internally). and he’s not afraid to share his findings in blunt words, whether his opinion was asked for or not, which can render him off-putting.

sly – though he can be blunt when he wants to, he can just as easily be dishonest and cunning if it’s in his best interest, whether that means cheating systems or tricking people into trusting him or otherwise. in the end, his goal is always selfish as he believes he’s all he’s got.

independent – to a fault, haejoon often relies only on himself. on his thoughts, on his knowledge, on his instincts, on his own beliefs and opinions, and so forth. which, while sometimes preferred and commendable, can also leave him with a blind spot or have him stuck in his own echo chamber.

dynamic – haejoon’s dynamic in that he is energized in a way that’s non-stop and obnoxious. he is always driving towards his goal, and will stop at nothing to get there by any means necessary.

— about.

i.

haejoon’s birth, much like the rest of his life, was inconsequential.

this is what his father’s always led him to believe, anyway, and so it came with no surprise that he’s spent his life trying to disprove it.

an accidental second born to a family already struggling to feed three wasn’t exactly a welcome one, but haejoon has always made his presence hard to ignore. from loud cries to incessant whines of, “mom, look,” to constant calls from his teachers complaining of disruptive behavior and everything in between. he’s never hidden his desperate need for attention, and his mom was happy to give it to him for the first five years of his life. with an old clunky video camera in hand always documenting his growth and a warm smile on her face, haejoon grew attached. perhaps not any more so than most children would, but importantly so. because when his overworked father never viewed him as anything more than an inconvenience, and his older brother was a constant comparison propped up on a pedestal, where else would he get the affection he so needed in that household?

nowhere, he soon found out.

even now he remembers that night so clearly. the loud patter of rain against the window, the knock on the door of their tiny one-bedroom apartment, the way his legs turned to jelly as the police officer told his father the news. a suspected drunk driver hit-and-run accident, and they were trying their best to catch the culprit.

they never did.

and just like that, a five year old haejoon learned of loss and lived with unresolved closure.

ii.

they say there are five stages of grief. but for most of haejoon’s life, there were only two.

denial, which consisted of him begging the police officer to tell him he was joking and to bring his mom back. then anger, which motivated most of his childhood and teenage years.

he started talking back when his dad would yell, instead of begrudgingly accepting and apologizing for things he shouldn’t have had to like his mom always told him. he started picking fights with his brother out of frustration and jealousy and resentment. and soon enough, as he entered high school, phone calls from teachers turned from harmless disruptive behavior calls to something more bloody. bloody knuckles, bloody noses, bruised eyes, cut lips. a scrawny boy with a big mouth and an equally big fake ego unknowingly built out of self-preservation, taking on things twice his size.

his only solace in such a stifling environment was that clunky old video camera, the same one his mom loved dearly and used to capture haejoon through her eyes.

he continued what she started soon after she was gone, recording himself through the years as she might have, even occasionally talking to her through the camera, giving updates on his life. he slowly grew out of it by the time he got to high school, but by then his love for the art of video and film blossomed. he retired his mom’s well-worn camcorder to the safe depths of his drawers, and scraped together money from odd jobs and slipped from his dad’s wallet to buy a more modern camera. it was with that, his first prized possession, that he shot and edited a multitude of stupid skits he thought were masterpieces at the time. all uploaded to video sharing sites and only ever garnering a few hundred hits.

but that didn’t matter then, because in the beginning haejoon just enjoyed the process. enjoyed the fact that it gave him reason to leave the apartment and sneak back in at one in the morning. enjoyed the zone it put him in when he could sit for hours just editing on his second most prized possession, a refurbished laptop, and tune everything else out.

so, when a routine argument with his father came to a boil and ended with his laptop broken into pieces strewn all over the street below their apartment window, it was no surprise that he moved out the moment he could.

iii.

it wasn’t easy, of course. haejoon was a recent high school grad with little money to his name and grades too poor to get into any good universities, after all. but still, he tried. sending applications to many small colleges in cities far from daegu, and impulsively taking the very first to accept him in a town as inconsequential as his birth.

with needing two part-time jobs just to pay for rent and tuition, and his general lack of discipline in school, he took an extra year longer than most to finish. but even after he did, not much changed. the name of his school held zero weight in the industry and his diploma in film was useless for most non-entertainment entry jobs. in the end, he had no choice but to carry along with his part-time jobs busing and delivering food to feed himself.

no setback stopped him, though. the always stubborn, yoon haejoon. he drafted screenplay after screenplay, and shot non-stop to bring them to life, sending them off to film festivals both big and small and getting uniformly rejected year after year. all of which he blamed more on his lack of prestigious background than his lack of talent. his body of work gradually became a graveyard of failed short films and a few commercials shot for small local businesses that pitied him after weeks of constant convincing.

it was only in the past two years that he found small success, if one could call it that. after all, being a freelance video editor for small youtubers and streamers wasn’t the most glamorous of jobs, but it allowed him to quit his soul-sucking customer service jobs. and, more importantly, bought him more time and energy to focus on making his own films once again.

iv.

back at the drawing board and with the rise in the popularity of documentaries, haejoon found himself back at his roots.

of course, six year old haejoon wasn’t shooting any ground-breaking documentaries when filming himself learning how to play the piano like his mom always wanted him to – but, the idea was the same. documenting reality.

or, well, framing reality in a certain way.

it was with this in mind he found ilmyo. after weeks of trawling through news article after news article in all the small towns he could think of, it was the deaths of kim donghyun and choi goeun that reeled him into the rabbit hole that was ilmyo’s mysterious history.

there was little information to be found online and no one seemed to be talking about it outside of town, but that had been a selling point too. no one knew of ilmyo and he would be the first on the scene. the first to shed light on a dark past and help unravel a questionable mystery – and, really, wasn’t that what audiences wanted these days? intrigue and justice?

that had been enough for haejoon, who quickly packed his things and took the first bus to town the following day.

v.

now, haejoon lives in a dinky old motel situated a few blocks away from the supposedly scenic stretch of birch trees. it’s a boring town, a far cry from downtown daegu, but then so was the previous town he called home for several years. and so he’s settled in easily – as easily as a nosy, obnoxious outsider can in these suspicious times.

haejoon hasn’t bothered making his presence a secret. by now, he’s sure almost everyone knows that the outsider is making a documentary on the tragic missing persons cases, whether they like it or not. he’s made sure of it, announcing himself and his purpose to anyone who will listen, and would they care to be interviewed? it’ll be shown in the busan international film festival next year, he’s falsely promised time and again.

he knows none of them believe him, knows that most of them despise him if the glares and groans he gets when he enters a room are anything to go by. but, unsurprisingly, that hasn’t weathered him down any more than the cryptic death threats thrown his way. haejoon’s more than used to being disliked, and it was never part of his plan to stay in ilmyo for long, so who cares if he makes any friends when he’ll burn his bridges soon enough?

hawk and heron are all he cares about being friends with anyway, and it’s only with them he bothers to tone himself down. first by offering a positive light to hawk in his documentary in exchange for insider information. then by attempting to bond with heron, offering to watch each other’s backs in a kind of strange truce to investigate together and share information (albeit selectively from haejoon’s side).

but trust has been slow to build and haejoon’s been growing impatient.

with most reluctant to share anything with him, he’s resorted to taking matters into his own hands. after his own investigation in the matters and his belief in occam’s razor, he’s concluded that magpie and starling are the likely suspects. there’s no smoke without a fire, after all, and magpie and starling have too much smoke surrounding them. as far as he’s concerned, they’re guilty and the police are just too close to everyone in this small town to do anything about it when the proof is all circumstantial.

so, it wouldn’t hurt if he falsified concrete evidence, would it?

if the culprits never paid, what’s the point in all of it?

he would just be giving the closure he never received to the families of the lost ones.

vi.

but there is one thing. if this is going to be his breakout piece, he wants it done without getting his hands too dirty.

for now, haejoon’s biding his time, false evidence lying in wait in a locked safe. only time will tell if he’ll have to use it.

#hrs tern #hrs min yoongi #hrs accepted

[tigren]

i dont expect anyone to actually ~*read*~ this but im bored and i love my neopets so here's a looooooooooong post about my neopets as vaguely constructed characters or ideas for them or i dont know. if you’re on mobile and the readmore link fails and you have to scroll past this im sorry.

in no particular order:::

abbur: (pink bori) my sweet gay baby boy. i couldn't Possibly choose a favorite child but if u held a gun to my head he's the first that comes to mind. he's a witch and he loves flowers and faeries and magic. he grew up in brightvale & when faerieland fell he moved to a lil cottage in the forest at the outskirts of faerieland. he made friends w/ an earth faerie who taught him some rudimentary magic.. he wasn't born w/ any natural magic ability but he was able to learn some basic spells and potions and things. his Heroes are Rasala the Bright and Ilere of the Woods. his dream is to meet ilere and convince her to take him on as a student, like she did for sophie!! he's scared of the haunted woods but he doesn't think ilere is dangerous or scary like some do.

thessa: (fire xweetok) she's a Warrior Space Princess! she's a galactic voyager and commands a large space ship that travels to planets for resources, exploration, and scientific experimentation. there isn't a royal lineage or monarchy or anything... it's just a respectful title she has been given for high ranking diplomatic role on the ship. when the voyagers encounter other intelligent creatures, she's the one to communicate and negotiate. those living on the ship are not colonizers and try not to be disruptive in foreign galaxies, but sometimes encounters become hostile and her warrior experience comes in handy.

classent: (robot cybunny) he lives on thessa's ship! sentient robots on the ship are treated as regular citizens, but tend to have "blue collar" jobs. classent is a mechanic and keeps the inner workings running smoothly. but he loves science! he wants to be part of some of the field work the scientists on the ship do on the planets they land on!! he uses his big ol ears with their powerful Audio Receivers to eavesdrop on the scientists and learn as much as he can. one day he's gunna be part of their crew!!

kovica: (cloud yurble but someday she'll be brown.. or something) cryptozoologist lesbian!! she runs a blog about supernatural events & creatures in neopia with a focus on cryptids. she lives on mystery island and she's desperately trying to track the weird monkey creature from the old secret mystery island treasure random event. she wants to be a journalist but nobody will take her seriously.

volkat: (halloween eyrie) wiccan goth lesbian. she's friends with abbur. their magical practices are very different but they love exchanging ideas anyway and just spending time together. she lives in the haunted woods. i haven't rly had the chance to think too hard about her lol

kasdri: (chocolate aisha) she grew up in shenkuu and loves fashion!! she wants to be a fashion designer and has lots of ideas and even makes most of her own clothes, but she's a lil full of herself and doesn't like to be criticized or take no for an answer. she moved to neopia central because she felt like there was more opportunity there, but for now she just works a shitty retail job at one of the big shops. she comes off as a snobby "popular girl" type, but she's really sweet and generous. she's def judging what youre wearing tho

alabryss: (royal uni) he's one of my oldest pets but i can never think of WHO he is, in his heart. :( recently i've thought of him as a normal ol farming boy from meridell who ended up having the opportunity to join the royal guard. he doesn't do anything particularly exciting but it's a glamorous job. but idk, it's so hard for me to settle on anything for alabryss even tho i love him so much. he's been painted a bunch of times before finally reaching his final form as royal so he's always been kind of nebulous. maybe i should incorporate his many forms into his lil story, idk!!!!

purrow: (black aisha) he's literally just one of the aisha theives. he and his brother are dirty dirty theives who steal things. like i'm sure i could expand upon that but i've always justified my laziness w/ the fact that he's canon

arphen: (white peophin) her name is sindarin elvish (from lotr lol) for "noble" and i haven't rly thought of anything in particular for her beyond the vague idea of.......... elf nobility. she lives in the forest.. the one outside of altador i guess. i try not to think too hard about how she really gets around the forest considering she's a horse mermaid.

whomf: he's my lab pet rn but he's perfect and gay and wears his pink heart glasses always. i think if he never gets zapped into something i get attached to and end up with a new lab pet, he'll be a candy blumaroo. i created him as a blumaroo and that's just... who he is....... if i follow thru w that, my whomf plans are::: he's a college student majoring in anthropology. he's from roo island & his school is in neopia central but he's studying abroad in mystery island. as much as he wants to Achieve His Goals he's also spending a lot of time just having fun on the island.. he goes to a lot of parties. he also has a part time job at a lil juice shack. tuition isn't cheap!!

pibbet: (starry poogle) she's a traveler!! she grew up in kiko lake and it's so small and quiet. she felt trapped & bored and now she wants adventures! freesom!! she wants to see all of neopia! her favorite place that she's visited so far is terror mountain because it's sooo tall, being at the peak practically feels like you CAN see all of neopia.

i have a few other pets (khrysinne, vamarie, stymi, ninneko, annapurna) that i don't rly have anything to say about!!!!