#< i promised i'd make that a tag

[barrel-crow-n]

Biggest crime of SaB and it's cancellation is it not showing me Kaz's start into Dirtyhands. I wanted to see Fflyn Edwards bite people and smash them over the head with bricks and bottles. Was that too much to ask?

[bonkalore]

Look. I just want that good big brother Jayce content so I can cry over it.

[r0b1ee]

Being a chardee shipper and a charden shipper is possible and in my mind Charlie is dating them both and would try to use the "You're twins I couldn't tell you apart" excuse on them

[tiredassmage]

they look like they're about to drop faerûn's next hottest album or something.

[avephelis]

everyone is aware that even if you don't maintag it, "#jrwi rp" is gonna come up under "#jrwi" because of tumblr's fucked ass tagging system, right

[spinnysocks]

we are so back <- just answered a bunch of asks

[padfootastic]

No, tell us about the dorm parties and Lily finding out about them, pretty please

ooooh a tag question! love these too hehe

okay so. a lil bit of backstory: i had a semi-wild teen life, ykno? like. not as crazy as ~american high school movies but in the context of the country i grew up in? pretty unreal. there were parties and alcohol and weed and a lot of hooking up. so much petty drama. so much irreverence.

point is: i dont like it when teens are portrayed as some pure, untouched, prudish creatures who've never heard of fun or drugs or sex. it just doesnt fit with what i know.

and i fully believe that hogwarts--a boarding school where kids have MAGIC (which really just means unending possibilites)--was a place where the students went wilddd. one of the ways? dorm parties. u have these private spaces for just you and like. 5 others. u can do a shit ton with ur wand. why wouldnt u use it for parties ykno?

so yeah, i think the common room had larger parties after like. quidditch wins and end of exams, but bc its more people and more younger kids, u had to be more careful. dorm parties tho? smaller, more intimate, and ur with the people u know/trust so crazier shit will happen.

the marauders were invited to a lot of them in the girls dorms (and vice versa) and ykno. they went to a lot. bc teen boys and girls. it was all very scandalous--booze and short skirts and shirts unbuttoned off their shoulders and hazy smoke filling the room and lipstick marks smeared over chins and necks and the like--and incredibly fun. just kids being kids, yeah?

lily, though. i've long been playing w the idea that her friendship w snape (and chastisement of james--and sirius, to a lesser extent) came w a substantial social cost. her defending someone who was so shady didnt win her any points and i hc as her a person who hid her insecurity w self righteousness (on top of just. being a bit of an abrasive person) which didn't win her additional favors. so even her dormmates maintained a certain distance and the dorm parties didn't often include her. she only found out accidentally when she went up to the room it was happening in to get a book back and saw everyone buzzed out and dancing and more relaxed (intimate) than she'd ever seen.

it was genuinely a huge shock when she saw the boys sprawled across the room in varying stages of undress (james had a girl and a guy on a thigh each, arms wrapped around both waists; sirius was hanging upside down w a joint dangling from his lips and its a wonder he didnt choke himself to death) and she squeaked out of the room in a moment of severe cultural shock.

it was only later that she worked herself into moral outrage and just. hurt-filled anger type stuff, ykno? her roommates sort of had to give her a reality check in that moment. the marauders only blinked at her in bemusement, amused at her high-handed attempts to manage them.

[follineo]

UUUUGHGGHGHGHGH,,,,

[lilowoof]

ngl gamers, I think I'm gonna inevitably lose to the hormones and depression in the near future XD

Can't bring myself to be active cause I'm using a lot of energy to not vent post all the time. But fuck it, into the tags I go!

[captainmvf]

🦴⛏️ [WIP]

[fennthetalkingdog]

You know, when I was first researching neurodivergence (and autism and ADHD in particular) and wondering if I was, in fact, neurodivergent, I brought my conclusions to my mom and she said:

"I mean, you're gifted, right? So you already are neurodivergent???"

So here's to her (kinda) and her words. Giftedness is a neurodivergence, in my opinion. From what I've seen, a lot of the traits overlap with common autistic and/or ADHD traits too, especially regarding overexcitabilities, and a lot of researchers talking about the topic describe giftedness with the same kind of "your brain is just made differently" and "you're just wired differently" language as they use for other neurodivergent conditions. But I also say this because I've seen some gifted people who, while struggling with some "autistic/ADHD traits," don't have all the traits necessary for an autism or ADHD diagnosis. Giftedness is a label for them that encompasses the struggles they have without saying that they don't struggle enough or forcing them to try to fit into a mold that isn't them. And I get that; when I was first questioning, I didn't think I had enough autistic traits to count for a diagnosis either, so I took comfort in a "gifted" label. (Not to say that all gifted people are just autistic people and/or people with ADHD that don't realize, or that all gifted people are just people who don't have enough traits for a diagnosis! That was just the case for me and the folks I've been around, but I've also heard the case of it not being that.)

But if I am gifted, then I also have autism. A lot of my struggles are, honestly, just better described by autism than just by a byproduct of giftedness. My struggles with people and with "being too much," my sensory differences (and yes, sometimes issues), my stimming, and some of my executive dysfunction all sound like autistic traits to me more than a mix of psychomotor and sensual overexcitabilities and a whole bunch of coincidental byproducts of my being gifted and hanging out with nongifted peers. Don't get me wrong; based on my family history, background, and traits, I honestly probably am gifted lol. But it's not just that.

So this is me saying that if the people around you are saying that you're just gifted, you're free to look for other, perhaps better explanations for your feelings and experiences. But if you are just gifted, you're still free to call yourself neurodivergent! My gifted traits lead to me feeling just as ostracized sometimes as my autistic ones, so who am I to police that label?

[radjerda]

The Premiere of Tron the Game at Flynn's Arcade

Photo by: Jordan Canas

[acourtofquestions]

Kingdom of Ash Chapter 20 …

oh my gods chapter 20…

I am dead inside.

And somehow dying more per chapter.

Ow. THE NIGHTMARE DREAM SEQUENCE

"Do you know the story of the queen who walked through worlds?"

Seated on the mossy carpet of an ancient glen, one hand toying with the small white flowers strewn across it, Aelin shook her head.

In the towering oaks that formed a lattice over the clearing, small stars blinked and shimmered, as if they'd been snared by the branches themselves. Beyond them, bathing the forest with light bright enough to see by, a full moon had risen. All around them, faint, lilting singing floated on the warm summer air.

"It is a sad story," her aunt said, one corner of her red-painted mouth curling upward as she leaned back on her seat carved into a granite boulder. Her usual place, while they had these lessons, these long, peaceful chats deep into the balmy summer nights. "And an old one."

Aelin lifted an eyebrow. "Aren't I a little old for faerie stories?" She'd indeed just celebrated her twentieth birthday three days ago, in another clearing not too far from here. Half of Doranelle had come, it had seemed, and yet her mate had found a way to sneak her from the revelry. All the way to a secluded pool in the forest's heart. Her face still warmed to think of that moonlit swim, what Rowan had made her feel, how he'd worshipped her in the sun-warmed water.

Mate. The word was still a surprise. As it had been to arrive here at spring's end and see him beside her aunt's throne and simply know. And in the months since, their courting ... Aelin indeed blushed at the thought of it. What they'd done in that forest pool had been the culmination of those months. And an unleashing. The mating marks on her neck— and on Rowan's-proved it. She would not be returning to Terrasen alone when autumn arrived.

"No one is too old for faerie stories," her aunt said, faint smile growing. "And as you are part faerie yourself, I would think you'd have some interest in them."

Aelin smiled back, bowing her head. "Fair enough, Aunt."

Aunt wasn't entirely accurate, not with generations and millennia separating them, but it was the only thing the queen had suggested Aelin call her.

Maeve settled further into her seat. "Long ago, when the world was new, when there were no human kingdoms, when no wars had marred the earth, a young queen was born."

Aelin folded her legs beneath her, angling her head.

"She did not know she was a queen. Amongst her people, power was not inherited, but simply born. And as she grew, her strength rose with her. She found the land she dwelled in to be too small for that power. Too dark and cold and grim. She had gifts similar to many wielded by her kind, but she had been given more, her power a sharper, more intricate weapon-enough that she was different. Her people saw that power and bowed to it, and she ruled them.

"Word spread of her gifts, and three kings came to seek her hand. To form an alliance between their throne and the one she had built for herself, small as it might have been. For a time, she thought it would be the newness, the challenge that she had always craved. The three kings were brothers, each mighty in his own right, their power vast and terrifying. She picked the eldest among them, not for any particular skill or grace, but for his countless libraries. What she might learn in his lands, what she might do with her power ... It was that knowledge she craved, not the king himself."

A strange story. Aelin's brows rose, but her aunt continued on.

"So they were wed, and she left her small territory to join him in his castle. For a time, she was contented, both by her husband and the knowledge his home offered her. He and his two brothers were conquerors, and spent much of their time away, leashing new lands to their shared throne. She did not mind, not when it gave her freedom to learn as she would. But her husband's libraries contained knowledge even he did not realize was held within. Lore and wisdom from worlds long since turned to dust. She learned that there were indeed other worlds. Not the dark, blasted realm in which they lived, but worlds beyond that, living atop one another and never realizing it. Worlds where the sun was not a watery trickle through the ash-clouds, but a golden stream of warmth. Worlds where green existed. She had never heard of such a color. Green. Nor had she heard of blue-not the shade of sky that was described. She could not so much as picture it."

Aelin frowned. "A pitiful existence."

Maeve nodded grimly. "It was. And the more she read about these other worlds, where long-dead wayfarers had once roamed, the more she wanted to see them. To know the kiss of the sun on her face. To hear the morning songs of sparrows, the crying of gulls over the sea. The sea that, too, was foreign to her. An endless sprawl of water, with its own moods and hidden depths. All they had in her lands were shallow, murky lakes and half-dried streams. So while her husband and his two brothers were off waging yet another war, she began to ponder how she might find a way into one of those worlds. How she might leave."

"Is such a thing even possible?" Something nagged at her, as if it might indeed be true, but perhaps that was one of her own mother's tales, or even Marion's, tugging on her memory.

Maeve nodded. "It was. Using the very language of existence itself, doors might be opened, however briefly, between worlds. It was forbidden, outlawed long before her husband and his brothers were born. Once the last of the ancient wayfarers had died out, the paths between realms were sealed, their methods of world-walking lost with them. Or so all had thought. But deep in her husband's private library, she found the old spells. She began with small experiments. First, she opened a door to the realm of resting, to find one of those wayfarers and ask her how it was properly done." A knowing smile. "The wayfarer refused to tell her. So the queen began to teach herself. Opening and closing doors long since forgotten or sealed. Peering deep into the workings of the cosmos. Her own world became a cage. She grew tired of her husband's warring, his casual cruelty. And when he went away to war once again, the queen gathered her closest handmaidens, opened a door to a new world, and left the one she'd been born into."

"She left?" Aelin blurted. "She she just left her own world? Permanently?"

"It had never been her world, not really. She had been born to rule others."

"Where did she go?"

That smile grew a bit. "To a fair, lovely world. Where there was no war, no darkness. Not like that in which she had been born. She was made a queen there, too. Was able to hide herself within a new body so that none could know what she was beneath, so that even her own husband would not recognize her."

"Did he ever find her again?"

"No, though he looked. Found out all she'd learned, and taught it to himself and his brothers. They tore apart world after world to find her. And when they arrived at the world where she had made her new home, they did not know her. Even as they went to war, she did not reveal herself. She won, and two of the kings, her husband included, were banished back to their own world. The third remained trapped, his power nearly broken. He crawled off into the depths of the earth, and the victorious queen spent her long, long existence preparing for his return, preparing her people for it. For the three kings had gone beyond her methods of world-walking. They had found a way to permanently open a gate between worlds, and had made three keys to do so. To wield those keys was to control all worlds, to have the power of eternity in the palm of your hand. She wished to find them, only so she might possess the strength to banish any enemies, banish her husband's youngest brother back to his realm. To protect her new, lovely world. It was all she ever wanted: to dwell in peace, without the shadow of her past hunting her."

From far away, that ghost of memory pushed. As if she'd forgotten to douse a flame left burning in her room. "And did the queen find the keys?"

Maeve's smile turned sad. "Do you think she did, Aelin?"

Aelin considered. So many of their chats, their lessons in this glen, held deeper puzzles, questions for her to work through, to help her when she one day took her throne, Rowan at her side.

As if she'd summoned him, the pine-and-snow scent of her mate filled the clearing. A rustle of wings, and there he was, perched in hawk form on one of the towering oaks. Her warrior-prince.

She smiled toward him, as she had for weeks now, when he'd come to escort her back to her rooms in the river palace. It was during those walks from forest to mist-shrouded city that she had come to know him, love him. More than she had ever loved anything.

Aelin again faced her aunt. "The queen was clever, and ambitious. I would think she could do anything, even find the keys."

"So you would believe. And yet they eluded her."

"Where did they go?"

Maeve's dark stare unwaveringly held hers.

"Where do you think they went?"

Aelin opened her mouth. "I think —

She blinked. Paused

Maeve's smile returned, soft and kind. As her aunt had been to her from the start. "Where do you think the keys are, Aelin?"

She opened her mouth once more. And again halted.

Like an invisible chain yanked her back. Silenced her.

Chain—a chain. She glanced down at her hands, her wrists. As if expecting them to be there.

She had never felt a shackle's bite in her life. And yet she stared at the empty place on her wrist where she could have sworn there was a scar. Only smooth, sun-kissed skin remained.

"If this world were at risk, if those three terrible kings threatened to destroy it, where would you go to find the keys?" Aelin looked up at her aunt.

Another world. There was another world Like a fragment of a dream, there was another world, and in it, she had a wrist with a scar on it. Had scars all over.

And her mate, perched overhead ... He had a tattoo down his face and neck and arm in that world. A sad story—his tattoo told a sad, awful story. About loss. Loss caused by a dark queen.

"Where are the keys hidden, Aelin?" That placid, loving smile remained on

Maeve's face. And yet ...

And yet.

"No," Aelin breathed

Something slithered in the depths of her aunt's stare. "No what?"

This wasn't her existence, her life. This place, these blissful months learning in Doranelle, finding her mate—Blood and sand and crashing waves.

"No."

Her voice was a thunderclap through the peaceful glen.

Aelin bared her teeth, fingers curling in the moss.

Maeve let out a soft laugh. Rowan flapped from the branches to land on the queen's upraised arm.

He didn't so much as fight it when she wrapped her thin white hands around his neck. And snapped it. Aelin screamed. Screamed, clutching at her chest, at the shredding mating bond—

She screamed again. Screamed at her ruined arm, the unscarred skin, screamed at the lingering echo of the severed mating bond.

"Do you know what pains me most, Aelin?" Maeve's words were soft as a lover's. "It's that you believe I'm the villain in this."

Whenever that had been. If it had even happened at all.

"I have no doubt that your mate or Elena or even Brannon himself filled your head with lies about what I'll do with the keys." Maeve ran a hand over the stone lip of the altar, right through her splattered blood and shards of bone. "I meant what I said. I like this world. I do not wish to destroy it. Only improve it. Imagine a realm where there is no hunger, no pain. Isn't that what you and your cohorts are fighting for? A better world?"

The words were a mockery. A mockery of what she'd promised so many. What she had promised Terrasen, and still owed it.

Aelin tried not to shift against the chains, against her broken arms, against the tight pressure pushing on her skin from the inside. A rising intensity along her bones, in her head. little more, every day.

Maeve heaved a small sigh. "I know what you think of me, Fire-Bringer. What you assume. But there are some truths that cannot be shared. Even for the keys." Yet the growing strain cracking within her, smothering the pain ... perhaps worse. Maeve cupped her cheek over the mask.

"The Queen Who Was Promised. I wish to save you from that sacrifice, offered up by a headstrong girl." A soft laugh. "I'd even let you have Rowan. The two of you here, together. While you and I work to save this world."

The words were lies. She knew it, though she couldn't quite remember where one truth ended and the lie began. If her mate had belonged to another before her. Been given away. Or had that been the nightmare?

Gods, the pressure in her body. Her blood.

You do not yield.

"You can feel it, even now," Maeve went on. "The urge of your body to say yes." Aelin opened her eyes, and confusion must have glittered there, because Maeve smiled. "Do you know what being encased in iron does to a magic-wielder? You wouldn't feel it immediately, but as time goes on ... your magic needs release, Aelin. That pressure is your magic screaming it wants you to come free of these chains and release the strain. Your very blood tells you to heed me."

Truth. Not the submission part, but the deepening pressure she knew would be worse than any pain from burnout. She'd felt it once, when plunging as far into her power as she'd ever gone.

That would be nothing compared to this.

"I am leaving for a few days," Maeve said.

Aelin stilled.

Maeve shook her head in a mockery of disappointment.

Fenrys sat by the wall, concern bright in his eyes as he blinked. Are you all right?

She blinked twice. No.

No, she was not anywhere near to all right.

Maeve had been waiting for this, waiting for this pressure to begin, worse than anything Cairn might do. And with the collar Maeve now went to personally retrieve … She couldn't let herself contemplate it. A more horrific form of slavery, one she might never escape, never be able to fight.

Not a breaking of the Fire-Bringer, but an erasure.

To take all she was, power and knowledge, and rip it from her. To have her trapped inside while she witnessed her own voice yield the location of the Wyrdkeys. Swear the blood oath to Maeve. Wholly submit to her.

Fenrys blinked four times. I am here, I am with you.

She answered in kind. I am here, I am with you.

Her magic surged, seeking a way out, filling the gaps between her breath and bones. She couldn't find room for it, couldn't do anything to soothe it.

You do not yield.

She focused on the words. On her mother's voice. Perhaps the magic would devour her from the inside before Maeve returned.

But she did not know how she'd endure it.

Endure another few days of this, let alone the next hour. To ease the strain, just a fraction ...

She shut down the thoughts that snaked into her mind. Her own or Maeve's, she didn't care.

Fenrys blinked again, the same message over and over. I am here, I am with you.

Aelin closed her eyes, praying for oblivion.

"Get up." A mockery of words she'd once heard.

[le-agent-egg]

This was not worth 2 and a half hours.

I FORGOT TAKAS WHISTLE DAMNIT

Anyway i am of the belief that he draws his eyebrows on with eyeliner

[theflyingfeeling]

Fourtheenth Day of Gift-Giving: Fun Adventures

Prompt: A group project in school brings some unusual friends together

Yes, it's a high school AU, somewhat inspired by / based off this fic idea I had a while ago! I've never written a high scool AU before so pls be nice, also I've taken some liberties with the prompt again, because there's no group project per se, they're simply in the same chemistry class 😌

Banner made by @kraeuterhexchen again, thanks for suffering for me a bit I love youuuu <3

~

Aleksi muffled his third yawn in a row on his palms. Every single week at this exact time he regretted his promise to his father that he’d take at least four optional courses this school year on top of all the compulsory ones in exchange for a language course in Amsterdam next June. The tragedy was that his schedule was already so full with the compulsory courses alone that he could barely find gaps to fill with anything else at more humane times than at eight o’clock on a Monday morning, which was when his additional chemistry class was held. It didn’t help that none of his friends or acquaintances were taking the same class; Aleksi envied them for their superior life choices.

Chemistry could be alright at best, but in general it wasn’t among his favourite subjects. Rather than reaction equations, Aleksi was much more fascinated by the only other guy in the group he knew by name, who, by the happy coincidence of the two of them both being late to class on the first day, ended up being his lab partner. He didn’t know Olli because they were buddies, quite the contrary, in fact; one of Olli’s friends was still bitter about Aleksi standing him up regarding a music project (which had been but a case of bad communication, of which Aleksi was deeply ashamed, even though in the eyes of his own friends it had been ‘such a big-dick move to put that cocky emo loser back in his place lol’), so Aleksi wasn’t exactly surprised that Olli never replied to his sleepy greeting on Monday mornings. Thinking back to it, Aleksi couldn’t recall the boy saying anything at all during the chemistry classes, so that by now he would’ve started suspecting Olli was mute, if it wasn’t for the times he had seen Olli laugh and joke about with his friends at recess. From the little Aleksi had heard when he had passed by the group in the school corridors, Olli had a soft, quiet voice, often blending under the much louder ones of his friends, which was why Aleksi had set making Olli speak to him as his main ambition for the course, rather than getting a high mark.

“Morning,” he said to Olli like he did every Monday, and like every Monday, Olli barely glanced his way. What made this Monday different from all the other Mondays was that Aleksi could’ve sworn he had seen Olli nod at him this time, sort of in a blink-and-you-miss-it kind of way, although it may as well have been just his tired brain making things up. Nevertheless, it gave Aleksi the spark of hope that had him sit up straight, ready to converse Olli’s ears off in case he finally happened to be in the mood, but before he could open his mouth to ask Olli about his weekend, the teacher started the lesson by shoving hand-outs on their tables.

That day, however, Aleksi was determined to succeed in his plan at long last, even if he had to get a little creative.

While Olli was concentrating on keeping his eyes open as the teacher explained the theory behind the day’s experiments, Aleksi picked up his pencil and wrote on the corner of Olli’s hand-out:

Hi! :)

The anticipation nearly had him tremble as he waited for Olli to react in any way; for the longest time, bordering Aleksi’s patience, Olli did nothing but stare at the letters Aleksi had scribbled. He still didn’t look at him, still didn’t say anything or – god forbid – smile; he just blinked at the single word that had appeared in the corner of his paper.

Then, after a million years in Aleksi’s experience, he grabbed his own pencil.

hi

Those two letters alone made Aleksi feel like a winner already.

How are you?

Still keeping his eyes firmly on the paper, Olli seemed to be pondering his answer for a while.

good

Aleksi wondered if Olli was as terse speaking up as he was in writing.

Great to hear! I’m doing good as well :) Do you have a long day on Mondays?

Exactly like a moment earlier, Olli did nothing but stare at their brief written conversation. Aleksi wanted to believe that Olli was just about to write his answer but was ruthlessly interrupted by the teacher ordering them to walk over and look closer as she’d perform an example experiment for them to later mimic.

They didn’t get a chance to continue their little chat later on in the lesson, and they never spoke during the practical experiments they were asked to do – or rather, Olli never spoke, despite Aleksi’s best efforts to at least have him answer some simple yes-or-no questions, such as ‘do you want to try first?’ or ‘can you pass the pipette?’ or ‘oh fuck, do you think we should tell the teacher?’ when their experiments sometimes failed unexpectedly. The best Aleksi had gotten out of Olli was a suppressed snort when the other day Aleksi had accidentally spilled some red colour additive on his brand-new Off-White t-shirt.

“Quit laughing, or I’ll tell everyone it’s your blood,” he had said in hopes of making Olli properly giggle, but it had seemed to have the opposite effect, for Olli hadn’t let out a single sound for the rest of class after that. Later, Aleksi had wondered if it had been because Olli was scared Aleksi actually might, and to prevent his friends from getting wind of them being lab partners – because clearly he was that opposed to the idea of being associated with Aleksi – he had firmly kept his lips sealed for the rest of the class and all the ones that followed it.

This day, someone must have put something in Olli’s breakfast porridge, however, because when the class was dismissed, Olli spoke in his low, quiet voice, not even directly at Aleksi, but more to his general direction, so that Aleksi knew the words were addressed to him.

“See ya.”

“Yeah, see ya!” Aleksi replied, perhaps a little too eagerly, rolling his eyes in frustration when Olli hurried out of the classroom.

It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

~*~

The next Monday, Aleksi decided to go past formalities and straight to the point to get Olli to interact with him.

Had a nice wknd? :) 

Aleksi was most definitely too optimistic for his own good, but he had a feeling Olli didn’t take half as long to answer this time, even though his reply remained brief.

yup

Literally on the edge of his seat, Aleksi waited for Olli to elaborate on his reportedly ‘nice weekend’ – in vain. He rolled his eyes and picked up his pencil again.

What did you get up to?

Olli flipped pencil in his fingers like one would do with a drumstic, clumsily, almost dropping it on his desk. Aleksi saw an attractive blush slowly spread on Olli’s cheeks and hoped it wouldn’t discourage Olli away from the budding conversation. 

At last, Aleksi’s patient waiting was rewarded.

went to see a gig

Aleksi clenched his pencil into his fist out of sheer excitement. If there was a topic Aleksi could’ve chatted about for hours on end, it was music, his first and (so far) only love. He knew Olli played in a band and was sure that if he only could somehow make Olli lower his walls for him, they might actually find a lot to whisper about to pass the time a bit more merrily on Monday mornings.

So cool! Who did you see?

Olli didn’t keep him waiting for long, which Aleksi decided to take as a sign of Olli also being keen on their current conversation topic.

If only Aleksi knew how to help Olli get out of his shell a little more.

a friend’s band

Aleksi nodded, careful not to appear too enthusiastic or intrusive to scare Olli off, now that he had gotten him to write more than one word at a time.

Any good?

The teacher was just about to have the class gathered around her table again, so instead of a thorough review of the music show, Olli only jotted down a wonky yup in response before hurrying to the front of the classroom. During the whole rest of the class, Aleksi was not given another chance to fish more out of Olli’s weekend.

Well, he sighed to himself, standing up to join his coursemates, another Monday, then. 

~*~

Later that day, sort of by coincidence (of having purposefully lingered around the music classroom on the pretext of asking the music teacher about an upcoming extra credit class), Aleksi learnt Olli’s band had a practice slot in the music classroom on Monday evenings. His plan was not to spy on Olli, but he figured he might as well use this newly-acquired information to squeeze a little more out of Olli in their next chemistry class.

Any plans after school?

Only when he noticed Olli freeze upon seeing the question on the margin of his notebook, Aleksi realised how it must sound like to him, so out of the blue.

Just curious btw :) 

Olli seemed to hesitate before answering.

band practice

Aleksi hid his smirk behind his palm.

Hook, line and sinker, he thought to himself, the pencil in his hand itching to write down all the follow-up questions he had prepared. By the end of the class, Aleksi congratulated himself, for his plan to have Olli blabber about their common interest had worked out splendidly: Aleksi had learnt, for example, that Olli had been playing the bass for seven years already and that their band was actually working on their first EP, which Aleksi was genuinely impressed by. What really had made Aleksi feel like he was on top of the world, however, was when he noticed the smallest hint of amusement on Olli’s face; he still hadn’t managed to lure Olli to look him in the eye, but he had made him smile, which was perhaps even better.

The rest of the week Aleksi spent barely paying attention to what his friends were talking or laughing about in between classes, too busy searching for his chemistry class conversation buddy with his eyes. He did so every day, even though he was convinced the principal granting him the rest of the semester off with no consequences was more likely than catching Olli looking at him.

That was, until he did.

It was only a fleeting moment in time as they passed each other in the canteen and over before Aleksi’s heart could settle back to its place from his throat where it had jumped up to. He couldn’t tell since when his lab partner looking his way had started rousing this kind of reaction in him; then again, Olli had never really glanced his way before, so how could he have known?

Maybe that was also why Aleksi hadn’t noticed the shade of Olli’s irises until now. They were dark grey, he could tell, serious but not cold by any means. He couldn’t wait to take a closer look at them the next time he was given the chance.

Perhaps it was time for Aleksi to change his tactics.

~*~

“Hi Olli,” Aleksi said as soon as Olli walked up to his desk the next Monday. As if surprised to hear his name spoken out loud, Olli looked up at him, and Aleksi was granted another glimpse of those mysterious eyes.

Olli didn’t let him rejoice for too long, though, before turning his gaze to his desk as he sat down.

“Hi.”

And that was it: their first spoken conversation (in which Olli had also participated), despite Olli avoiding his gaze for the rest of the class, as was his right. Aleksi supposed. Even Aleksi himself was too giddy about the interaction to think of anything else to say.

It was almost ridiculous, if he was honest with himself. Yet, for the first time during the whole autumn semester, Aleksi was looking forward to the early Monday morning chemistry class.

~*~

Within the next couple of weeks, their conversations evolved from exchanging casual greetings (‘Hi Olli!’ ‘Hi…Aleksi’) to deep discussions about the current events in their lives (‘How’s it going?’ ‘Good.’ ‘Awesome’), which was equal parts exciting and frustrating to Aleksi. His heart would do the silly bouncing-up-to-his-throat thing whenever Olli blessed him with a quick glance of his dark eyes (Aleksi could swear they were a different shade every time he looked), but the moments only ever lasted for a second or two at a time. On the bright side, Olli would no longer rush out of the classroom to get out of having to perform any more small talk, but instead took his time putting his books and pencils back in his bag carefully, even if Aleksi never managed to open his mouth in time before Olli would make his inevitable escape. Aleksi suspected that it was, indeed, the newfound thrill of being graced with the occasional, fleeting look from Olli that rendered him speechless and caused him to miss his chance of getting to talk with Olli at least until they’d reach the classroom doorway. From there onwards they’d go their separate ways anyway, to their different worlds: Aleksi to one in which Olli was a moody emo kid with no sense of humour (or so Aleksi had been told by Isac who went to the same biology class with Olli), and Olli to one in which Aleksi was probably portrayed as a self-satisfied snob who once did his friend dirty.

The Monday after that, Olli never walked in through the classroom door, no matter how intensely Aleksi stared at it. When the days passed and Aleksi hadn’t caught a glimpse of the boy by Friday, he became worried, to the extent he considered walking up to Olli’s friend group to ask about him. He was almost certain that the one with the short platinum-blond hair might have actually told him, or at least he looked the least intimidating out of them all. One of them was almost two heads taller than Aleksi, so he saw it best to stay out of his way, although his smile – in those rare occasions he did smile – was anything but frightening. The one with the baggy clothes Aleksi had once heard rapping at a house party was tiny in comparison, but something about the angle of his eyebrows gave Aleksi the chills. Joel was obviously out of the question; Aleksi would probably never dare speak to him after The Incident. Joonas, on the other hand (Aleksi knew his name because he and Joel often squabbled loudly, with Joel shouting his name in bewilderment, his obvious affection for the boy poorly masked as annoyance), seemed like the kind of guy who would whisper you the right answer just in time before the teacher’s drill of a stare would bore a hole through your skull.

Taking a deep breath to brace himself, he watched as Olli’s friends were stepping in the Swedish classroom. As if on cue, Joonas was the last one about to walk through the door, and seeing his chance had come, Aleksi zoomed over and grabbed him by his sleeve.

“Hey,” he said once he had pulled Joonas aside, hidden from the disapproving looks of Joel and company.

“Huh?”

“Do you happen to know where Olli is?” Going straight to the point seemed like the best strategy to get anything out of Joonas, in case Aleksi had completely misjudged him and he was about to be punched in the face.

“He’s caught the cold. Why?” Knitting his brows and eyeing Aleksi up and down, Joonas seemed sceptical about Aleksi’s intentions, to say the least.

(It had Aleksi wondering if any of his own friends would act as protectively about him, but that was a matter of concern for another day entirely.)

“Ummmm… I have his chemistry homework for him.”

Aleksi could almost hear the cogwheels turning inside Joonas’ head until his expression brightened.

“Aaah… Right! Yeah, I suppose you would.” (Whatever Joonas meant by that.) “I’m gonna go over later today to see how he’s doing, so I can forward the message for you.”

“Oh, great! Thanks!” Aleksi said, as if he had any clue what they had actually been given as homework four days ago.

Ironically, Aleksi was saved by Joel calling for Joonas from inside the classroom.

“I’ll catch up with you later, alright?” Joonas winked at him, and then he was gone. 

Joonas never did catch up with him, however, and so Aleksi was saved from the embarrassment of admitting he hadn’t been following their chemistry lesson after all, more or less due to the disappointment of not seeing Olli after having spent the entire weekend planning what he’d say to him. Not knowing if Olli would be attending the upcoming Monday’s class either, the weekend went by slower than ever, which normal-Aleksi would’ve embraced; this new, strange, maybe-crushing-on-his-quiet-lab-partner-Aleksi was on pins and needles.

~*~

There it was again, that awful skip of his heart, when Aleksi saw Olli enter the classroom on Monday. So relieved he was that he had no means to tone down the excitement in his greeting.

“You’re here!”

Olli looked up at him but said nothing, his silence a pang to Aleksi’s chest. His joy upon their reunion changed into defeat in less than a second, and Aleksi felt like a right idiot for having thought Olli, too, might have been waiting to see him again.

Suddenly fascinated by the cover of his chemistry course book, Aleksi put his head down to hide his disappointment. He was already settled for staring at the abstract drawing for the next 75 minutes to avoid more heartbreak, but then a slip of paper appeared in front of him.

can’t speak doctor’s orders

On his face, Olli was wearing a kind, small smile. In that instant, Aleksi forgot what he had even been so saddened about. He flashed Olli a smile in return and started searching with his eyes for a pencil; he would’ve felt too weird talking to Olli out loud without him being able to answer. Tragically, it seemed that in anticipation of possibly seeing Olli again after so long, Aleksi had forgotten to pack his pencil case. Noticing this, Olli offered him his own, the same, tiny smile still on his lips.

Shame! You’re usually so talkative

He knew he was taking a risk poking fun at Olli’s quietness, but to his great relief, Olli’s smile widened and his shoulders twitched in a voiceless chuckle. Encouraged by this, Aleksi continued with an equally risky revelation.

I missed you in class last week

Having written down the words, Aleksi could barely look at Olli as he felt his cheeks heaten up. He let Olli take back his pencil from his fingers, as well as the paper slip from his desk.

Olli spent almost a minute writing down his reply, erasing and rewriting, until he finally passed the paper back to Aleksi, immediately directing his face to the opposite side of the classroom.

missed you too

Aleksi had never seen three words so pretty in his life.

~*~

What followed next was an entire week of unexpected encounters between the two lab partners, as if the universe was purposefully making them cross each other’s way to make up for the past seven days of not seeing each other. On Tuesday, their shoulders brushed walking past each other in a crowded corridor. On Wednesday, they were returning their trays at lunch at the exact same time and exchanged brief smiles. On Thursday, they almost ran into each other at the restroom door, which is when Aleksi learnt Olli had regained his voice, mumbling a small ‘oops’ after having bumped into Aleksi.

On Friday, at the last recess of the day, Olli’s friend Joonas grabbed Aleksi by his wrist and pulled him into an empty classroom.

“Wait here,” he ordered, and utterly confused as he was, Aleksi had no choice but to obey.

A moment later Joonas returned, pushing a red-cheeked Olli into the room before promptly leaping back to the corridor, closing the door behind him.

For one long, anxious moment, neither of them said anything, Aleksi because he was still too baffled by the latest turn of events to open his mouth, and Olli because he was… Olli.

“Ummmm…” Olli finally said, his voice a little hoarse, so he cleared his throat and tried again. “I just… ummm… there’s this… band… tomorrow…”

Aleksi had to bite his lip, both at how adorable Olli was, fumbling with his fingers as words fell out of his mouth one by one, as well as to keep himself from blurting out ‘yes’ before Olli even got around to asking him anything.

“And I was just… thinking if… ‘cuz I have an extra ticket… so… I thought maybe you–”

“Yeah!” To Aleksi’s turmoil, his tongue could sometimes be quicker than his brain. “I mean… what?” 

Behind the classroom door, someone clicked their tongue.

“Yeah, ummmm.” Olli scratched the back of his neck. “So yeah. Would you… like to come? To the show? On Saturday? With me? Maybe? I mean, of course you already have plans–”

“I don’t!” Aleksi hurried to say. “I can come. But… will your friends be coming too though?”

Olli shook his head. Aleksi decided not to dwell on what the evident horror in Olli’s eyes was a sign of. It might have been because he, too, thought it was a little too soon for Aleksi and Joel to make amends – or maybe he was just that terrified of being seen with Aleksi in public.

“No, they won’t. I mean, Joonas was supposed to, but he, ummmmmm, he’s going… ummmm…” Olli’s gaze wandered towards the door, as if for help.

“To my great-uncle’s funeral!” the door whispered at him.

“To his great-uncle’s funeral,” Olli confirmed.

“A-ha,” Aleksi nodded. “Sorry for your loss,” he said to the door.

“...Thanks,” the door replied. Holding back his laughter, Aleksi turned back to Olli who, for the first time since Joonas had urged them on the stage of their current scene, was looking at Aleksi, his round eyes expectant and hopeful for Aleksi’s final answer. Aleksi thought of taking a step closer to him, perhaps even gently touching his hand, but decided against it before his brain would command his limbs to make such reckless movements.

“Guess I’ll see you on Saturday at…?”

“At six. At Sandro’s.”

If Aleksi didn’t get a wink of sleep the following night, it wasn’t only because of excitement; the moment he laid his head on his pillow and closed his eyes, his mind was filled with pictures of a boy with twinkling eyes and a bashful smile, keeping him awake until he fell asleep to them.

~*~

Aleksi couldn’t bring himself to care if he looked a little dumb, smiling to himself and leaning his chin on his palm at eight o’clock the next Monday. Even the teacher announcing a pop quiz could not have washed away the dopey grin that had been painted on his lips since Saturday evening.

He was smiling at the way Olli’s eyes had brightened when he had spotted Aleksi in the crowd. He was smiling at Olli’s shy offer to get him a Pepsi. He was smiling at how star-struck Olli had looked when the band had first got on stage and the way he had lost himself in the music, rocking his head and closing his eyes as if to let the bass lines and guitar riffs swallow him whole. The band had been excellent, Aleksi had to agree, but more than half the time, all Aleksi had seen or heard was Olli.

And for the last three minutes of the show, all Aleksi had felt was Olli; more specifically, he had felt Olli’s hand searching for his, fumbling and hesitating until it finally clasped Aleksi’s during the final song of the band’s setlist, a melancholy rock ballad that prompted lighters and cellphone flashlights to be lit. In Aleksi’s eyes, they were all dim in comparison to the glimmer in Olli’s eyes.

Lying in his bedroom later that evening and throughout the entire next day, Aleksi had still felt the warmth of Olli’s hand in his, even though they had let each other go as soon as the stage lights had been turned off.

“Hi.” Olli’s voice brought Aleksi from Saturday evening back to Monday morning. 

“Hi,” he simply answered. There were a million things he wanted to say to Olli, but his sleepy, happy brain was still working on finding the exact words.

The smile on Olli’s face told him he’d have time to figure it out, at his own pace.

In the meantime, Aleksi could always improvise, and so he picked up his pencil.

♡

They both stared at the tiny heart on the corner of Olli’s notebook, and just when Aleksi was about to convince himself he had made a terrible mistake, Olli took the pencil out of his hand.

♡ ♡

[96percentdone]

actually like for real is "morally grey" just being used as a stand-in term for 'character who is well written and interesting and nuanced' as opposed to like a character whose morals and actions are too messy to be classified as either black or white? because if that's true i hate it here. like i really do.

there have been 10000 posts about how people can't be normal about fictional women, and that's true. often you see fictional girls talked about like they're the devil for like being mildly sassy at the fan favorite the one time, but truly like evil or actually morally grey women get fuckin morally whitewashed by so many of their fans like they also can't bear the idea she might suck shit.

that's not like a strictly fictional woman phenomenon, evil/morally grey men get this shit all the time, because i think on some level people can't like. cope with the idea their faves suck. i feel like a lot of people want to feel like the characters they like are good because they fear its a reflection of their own morals if they're not. and it's not. the things you like in fiction are not an indicator of your morality; they just are things you like in fiction.

but that said i find the phenomenon more interesting when it comes to ethically dubious/bankrupt women because truly for a website constantly screaming about how they want well written women in villainous roles, you guys do not know what to do with them at all even when you like them! When you are given the thing you've been clamoring for forever, you either want her to die or you're scrambling desperately to make her less what she is, and in the process desecrating the things that made her interesting and unique. often it just ends up dovetailing back into classic misogyny where if she's not perfect and pure then she's not worth it, but i just kinda don't think fictional women have to be 'good' or even 'not evil' to be worthy of attention, praise, and adoration.