#...but i did so much overthinking on how to phrase it the past 2-3 days before finally sending it

[icantalk710]

📱😪

[fallingfor-fics]

Teachers Pet-chapter 3: black dress shoes

All chapters

chapter 2

It was definitely a lie, I don't think I could ever be ready to start a new life all alone, but I had Dumbledore so I guess I wasn't completely alone. But it didn't change from the fact I still felt alone. Part of me was still upset about my father. He didn't even look at me, and I know he blamed me partially for everything that's happened. But he was out of my life now and I had bigger things to worry about. Like walking into this school without dying. Dumbledore headed in and I followed closely behind my luggage levitating behind me. I took deep breaths and looked in awe all around me. "Now since it's late I won't be giving you a tour as of right now, I'll just get you situated in your temporary room until tomorrow." Dumbledore said softly, looking down at me gawking at the gorgeous building. I told myself to look away and just focus on my actions. I didn't want to grow to like this place. I missed Beauxbatons that would always be my home. I wasn't gonna let this school's extravagance trick me, Beauxbatons was gorgeous and elegant, but Hogwarts was a different kind of elegance. Somehow it felt more, comforting and warm.

   I shook the thoughts away and smiled up at Dumbledore, playing it cool. "Sounds great!" I responded. "Wonderful follow me then." he said walking down the hall. "Tonight you will just be sleeping in my quarters. I hope you don't mind but don't worry I have a guest room attached so you will have your own room and privacy." he said cheerily. "Wow thank you Dumbledore that's very kind I would have been okay with just crashing on the couch haha." I said lightly laughing. "Oh merlin no, I would not have my goddaughter sleeping on my couch, it's very uncomfortable." he said with a joking tone. I smiled and followed him to his quarters. We approached a gargoyle that was perched in front of us. I kept my eye on it worried it may move or be alive or something. He whispered a phrase that I couldn't understand and it moved aside to reveal this very odd almost circular staircase that was moving it seemed.  He walked up it with ease and looked back at me, visibly confused as to how I was supposed to walk on it without being thrown back down. "Don't overthink it my dear, just walk" he said kindly. I did as he said and just kept my eyes forward and walked up on it. Hmm how peculiar. "What did you whisper to make the gargoyle move?" I asked, curious. He just looked at me and smiled. I took that as, "it's a secret and I am not going to tell you hehe". I followed him into what I assumed was his office.

   I stood in awe looking all around at the most extravagant headmaster office I had ever seen. "Holy crap" I said, amazed. "Yes it is quite nice" he said with a small smile. "Quite? More like I could live here." I joked looking back at him noticing he had walked across the room and behind his desk. "Come," he said and I followed walking around his desk and chair. "Now back here" he said, opening a door to reveal a small but comfortable living quarters, "is where I sleep and if you come over here" he walked past his bed and to a bookshelf. He removed a rather large book and it revealed a small doorknob. He opened it up and it revealed a very cute guest room which looked to have been done up just for me. "This is your room for tonight." he said cheerily. My luggage flew past me and landed softly on the bed. "Now since it's late I won't waste anymore time and let you get your rest" he smiled. "Thank you so much this is perfect. Thank you for...everything" I said with a genuine tone. I walked over and gave him a hug, it was more than just a thank you hug. I was so glad to see him and not be alone. Someone to watch over me and make sure I was ok. It felt nice to have a parental figure here with me in this new strange place. He let out a light chuckle and patted my back. "Now I will be right in the next room if you need me, that door right there is a bathroom if you need to shower or anything of that sort. He said kindly while walking to the door. "Ok great thank you, goodnight" I said walking over to my bed to put my shoulder bag down. "Oh and y/n" he said and I turned to face him again. "I'm here" he said softly and walked out shutting the door behind him. It was almost enough to make me cry. It was so nice to hear those words. They comforted me so much to know I would be able to do this on my own but have someone for guidance. I smiled to myself and opened my suitcase getting out my pajamas and toothbrush. I got changed and put my day clothes back into my suitcase, hanging my coat and bag on the bedpost and putting my shoes at the door. I went into the bathroom shutting the door behind me. As I turned the faucet on I looked into the mirror. Brushing my h/c from my face and putting a headband in. I washed my face with the warm water and dried it off with the soft hand towel that was hung next to the mirror. I wet my toothbrush and brushed my teeth. Rinsing my mouth and wiping off the excess toothpaste and left my toothbrush there to dry. I exited the bathroom  and went and sat on the bed. I sat there and admired the room. There was a small window above the headboard that was too dirty to see out of. I used my sleeve to wipe a small circle and I looked out.

   I couldn't see much since it was dark but I could make out a few trees here and there. Hmm. I layed down and got under the covers. I closed my eyes and layed there trying to fall asleep. I looked over at the clock on the wall and it read 10:45. I looked back at the ceiling and then turned on my side, closing my eyes once more trying to clear my thoughts and fall asleep. After what seemed like forever I had no luck. I mean I did sleep nine hours on the train so of course I wasn't going to be able to fall asleep. I looked back at the clock and it now read 11:20. I sat up reaching over into my bag and pulling out my wand. I whispered a quiet "Lumos" and my wand lit up lighting up the whole room. I sat and stared at it not knowing what else to do. I held it up and began making shadow puppets on the wall. After a rabbit I began to feel silly, but I excused the childlike behavior because I didn't know what else to do. All of the sudden I started to hear a door. But it wasn't mine and it sounded farther away than Dumbledores. Then I heard muffled voices sounding like they came from his office. I whispered a "Nox" and my wand went out. I slowly and quietly got up and walked over to my door, pressing my ear to it but not having any luck in hearing better. I contemplated it for a moment and turned away back to my bed, I shouldn't, that would be an invasion of privacy. One of the voices grew louder and I then heard Dumbledore say to quiet down. I looked at the door. Well we all know im gonna do it. I have no respect for my morals. I tiptoed to the door and quietly and slowly turned the doorknob. As quiet as I could , I opened the door and peeked into his quarters, not seeing him but seeing the light from his office casted from under his door. I tiptoed over to that door making sure to not hit anything and breathing through my mouth to be as quiet as possible. Last thing I would want is to be caught eavesdropping on my first night in the castle. I gingerly pressed my ear to the door and stopped breathing to try and listen. "I think she will excel wonderfully here! You don't doubt my beliefs do you?" I heard Dumbledore say, surely he wasn't referring to me. "Of course not Albus, I just don't know if it's the best idea for her to be my student!" I heard a strange deep velvety voice say. Who does this guy think he is? Why wouldn't he want me in his class? "And why is that?" I heard Dumbledore respond calmly. The man paused and cleared his throat. "You know why." he retorted. The fuck does that mean I thought. My heart picked up speed as I began to grow very concerned and confused. "I think you are overreacting, she will be just fine." Dumbledore assured the man. I stepped back and laid on the floor trying to look under it. I laid my head on the cold stone floor and peaked through the small crack. All I could see was two pairs of shoes. Ones that were obviously Dumbledore's that were blue and had some light floral pattern and another pair of just black leather dress shoes. They continued talking but I zoned out staring at the pair of shoes. Hmm I took a mental note and got up off the floor. However when I was pushing up off the floor the rug my feet were on moved slightly and caused a small table to move and hit the wall with a thump. My eyes grew wide as their conversation came to a halt. "I thought you said she was asleep" the deep voice snarled. I didn't take any chances and sprinted back into my room closing the bookshelf door behind me as quietly as possible and jumping to the bed pulling the covers up over me and facing away from the door. My heart was beating so fast I could hear it in my head and feel it in my chest. My breath was ragged trying to catch up to itself. I heard his bedroom door open and heard him walk in and around it. I could hear him pause for a moment outside my door and then exit his room closing his door behind him. I heard them exchange a few more muffled words and then heard what I was assuming the black shoed man leaving his office and Dumbledore returning to his bedroom. I closed my eyes trying to be still just in case he came to check on me. I continued to fake sleep until it eventually caused me to drift off and finally fall asleep.

[that-rock-chick]

Love Bites

Love sucks. That's pretty much common knowledge. Combine that with addiction, money, fame, and childhood trauma and you've got a recipe for disaster.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Same shit, different fucking day.

Don't ask me how I'm balancing six days a week at my job and band practice three to four days a week, because I truly have no fucking idea. I tried college but once the band formed, I cut that out of my schedule completely.

It's been about a months since the argument with Gwen and Tiffany went down and our band hasn't practiced. I tried to be sympathetic for the longest time, but it's beyond ridiculous now. Veronica, Tiffany, and I have been wanting to do band stuff but Gwen refuses because she's mad that Tiffany is dating a man SHE broke up with. It's not like Tiffany did it intentionally, and the fact that she's letting her own personal stuff interfere with our band is really pissing me off.

We've all got shit going on, but Gwen loves being a drama queen. Veronica has suggested kicking her out of the band a few times and Tiffany has echoed the same sentiment, but I don't think my patience has thinned to that extent just yet.

But it's getting there.

Young musicans aren't hard to come by, but finding someone who fits the band's sound as perfectly as Gwen's adds on a large layer of difficulty that I'm not prepared for. We'd have to start all over, teach our new singer the songs, establish chemistry...it seems exhausting and more trouble than it's worth, at least for the time being.

"Hey Julie." Dylan greeted me as I walked past, something he does whenever we work together. Sometimes it ends up being the best part of my day.

As the day progresses, I find myself smiling a lot more than I usually do. Customers are easier to deal with and a large amount of them were actually friendly. It created a light-hearted atmosphere in the restaurant that we don't get too often, unfortunately. The time seemed to fly by.

"Good luck Dylan." I said goodbye and walked out of the front door. Dylan was always there a hour before I arrived, and an hour before I left. The rest of the staff is pretty cool, but Dylan is the only one I'd consider to be a friend of mine. He's essentially the less musically inclined male version of me.

I head to our rehearsal space for the second time this week. I've extended the invitation to Gwen, as if she needs an invitation to show up to her own fucking band's rehearsal. If she doesn't show up tonight, she's out. Our time is just as important as hers and we're all tired of it being wasted.

I'm usually the first person to show up, but some days that isn't the case, like today.

"Hey." Gwen says shyly.

I give her a blank stare and proceeded to put my things down on a table nearby.

"Nice of you to finally decided to show up." I stated plainly.

"Look, I know I've missed a lot of practice and I totally understand the three of you being pissed at me, but can you please take one second to see this from my perspective?"

I couldn't help but scoff at what was coming out of Gwen's mouth. Has she seriously taken an objective look at the situation and came to the conclusion that she has a leg to stand on.

"Okay fine. You broke up with a guy, he moved onto Tiffany, you were so jealous that he wasn't falling you around like a lost puppy, and you took it out on Tiffany."

Gwen rolled her eyes but before she could speak, Tiffany and Veronica entered the room. Anger was written all over Tiffany's face, while Veronica seemed to be as cool as a cucumber.

That's one thing I've always liked about Veronica. She can keep her cool in some pretty tough situations. That's not all there is to like about her, though. She's utterly gorgeous. Her dark skin and hair that was almost always styled in an afro were truly beautiful features that I couldn't help but admire. She's beautiful, smart, talented, and has an amazing personality. She's the full package.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Tiffany wasted no time begining the screaming match we all knew was about to go down.

"We're in the same band." Gwen managed to maintain her regular tone of voice, but if I know Tiff like I think I do, and trust me, I do, she'll keep going until she sets Gwen off and then everything will go up in flames.

"Clearly the band hasn't been very high on your list of priorities for the past four weeks. Finally make time in your schedule for us, princess?" Tiffany was speaking with her genuine emotions, but part of her wanted to get a reaction out of Gwen. She knows how Gwen feels about being called "princess".

Gwen looks like she wants to say something to Tiffany that would no doubt escalate the situation even further, but she takes a deep breath and regains her composure.

"I'm sorry, okay? For everything. Julie was right, I should've maintained my professionalism above all else...and I shouldn't have put some guy over you and our friendship."

The three of us looked at Gwen semi-shocked. That girl never apologizes for anything. Instead of responding, Tiffany tells Veronica and I that she's stepping out for a smoke.

I'm not sure if we should discuss things further or let bygones be bygones, but it's not exactly my place to make that call.

Tiffany returns just as I finshed tuning my guitar and walked up to Gwen. If I didn't know Tiffany, I'd say she was going to punch Gwen in the face with the speed she was moving.

"That whole situation was fucked up, but I know how hard it is for you to apologize to people, so I forgive you." Tiffany pulls Gwen in for a hug and for the first time in awhile, things seem okay between the four of us.

"I would like to reiterate that Gwendolyn said I was right." I smiled proudly.

"Yeah, don't get used to hearing that from me."

It was nice while it lasted, at least.

Band practice turned out to be super productive, and it hasn't been that way in a long time. We got a lot of work done today and hopefully we can keep this up for awhile. We spent about 7 hours in our rehearsal space and it felt more like 5 minutes. Time really does fly when you're surrounded by positivity.

The girls and I said our goodbyes and parted ways for the night. Tiffany had mentioned that we haven't seen each other this past month like we usually do. Of course I feel bad about that, she's been my best friend for so long. But I've been spending a lot of time with the Guns N' Roses boys...Axl in particular can be a persuasive little shit when he wants to be. I've already told the guys that Tiffany's birthday is this weekend and they can't keep monopolizing my time. I need more feminine energy!

"Julie!" I hear someone call out. I recognize the voice as soon as it hits my ears.

"Hey Slash, what's up?"

Minus Izzy, I'm becoming pretty close with the members of Guns N' Roses. I just wish that man wasn't so goddamn illusive.

Slash and I walk and talk. Clearly he's decided we're hanging out tonight. I don't mind it much since Tiffany's going out with Victor tonight, Gwen is visiting her parents, and Veronica is doing god knows what, like always. So even if I wanted to make plans with someone, it's not like I had anyone else anyway.

"I don't think anyone's at the house, besides Izzy." From the way he phrased his sentence, it was a clear indication that Slash had no interest in staying at the "Hell House" with Izzy, he usually opted to spend his nights the same way he spent his days: completely wasted. It didn't matter if it was alcohol or heroin, if it got him high, he'd take it.

But this isn't about Slash. I want to see Izzy...I might have a slight obsession with a man who has never even said a single word to me, but I mean, he's absolutely gorgeous. There's something about him that keeps me drawn to him and I'm determined to figure out what it is. No matter how long it takes me.

"Then let's go to the house."

Before Slash can process what I said so he could say no, I grab him by the arm and run as fast as I possibly can while dragging a grown man behind me. It only takes about 15 seconds of running before I realized, Slash in tow or not, I'm very out of shape. I'm running out of breath, determined to get to the band's house. I'll be wheezing all the way down Sunset Boulevard and trying to convince myself it's worth it by the time we get there. But knowing me, it won't.

We enter the house and lo and behold...

Izzy isn't there. Despite me struggling to breathe, the look of defeat plasters my face and Slash starts laughing his ass off.

"Izzy's out working, I just wanted to see how you'd react. Sure didn't think you'd go runnin to our house, though." Slash manages to get out through his fit of hysterical laughter.

"Slash! Why the hell would you do that?"

"Because I know you like him. I got the confirmation I needed. Just wait until I tell Duff!" Slash heads for the stairs, but I grab his arm before he starts his ascent.

"You cannot tell Duff." I tell him seriously.

"He can't tell Duff what?" Duff appears from the kitchen

"And why are you out of breath? And why are you holding Slash's arm?"

"She totally likes Izzy, dude. I told her that he was here and she dragged me through the streets. We almost got hit by like, 5 cars."

My shocked face slowly twists into a look of confusion as Duff rolls his eyes, pulls out his wallet, and hands Slash a 20 dollar bill.

"Dude, you guys bet on whether I liked Izzy or not?" I was part shocked, part confused, and part mortified that my crush on Izzy was that obvious. Izzy seems like a smart man, so I couldn't stop thinking about the possibility of him knowing and not talking to me because I'm a weird chick who likes him without even knowing anything about him.

"Yeah, and now I'm out 20 bucks because you can't control your goddamn hormones." Duff says in mock frustration. I ignore his joke as the overthinking sets in further.

"Does...does he know?"

"Nah. The man's pretty oblivious, plus he doesn't pay much attention to anything except drugs, work, and music. It's fine." Duff reassures me.

Then Izzy walks in. The three of us get quiet when he shuts the door behind him. He looked at the guys then looks me up and down. He then looks back up at my face like he's done several times before, but this time he doesn't look away when our eyes meet, not immediately, at least. I feel my heart start beating a mile a minute at the momentary eye contact and feel myself longing for it again when it breaks.

He nods his head and walks up the stairs. I guess his first words to me will have to wait another day.

"What does Izzy do for work?" I ask, to no one in particular.

"He's a drug dealer." Duff replies nonchalantly.

I don't know how to respond to that, so I don't. Slash and Duff have their own conversation and I find myself wondering what kind of person Izzy is. I don't know what to think. All I know is he's a damn good musician, an equally gifted writer, and a drug dealer.

Who the hell is Izzy Stradlin?

[sugarmaplewings-fics]

Deep Blue Fantasy Part Six

Pairing: Merman!Tamaki Amajiki x Fem!reader

Warnings: Some angst and hopelessness, otherwise none

Author’s Note:

This is quite likely my favorite part of the story! Even though it’s a little on the shorter side, it’s really top tier for me. We got some tooth-rotting fluff up in here (Sugar’s going to give you some cavities (*≧m≦*) ) and then some lovely angst (cri).

I’ll leave this for you and run. I hope you like it! This will all come to its thrilling conclusion on the ninth! I’m happy with how it’s been received here!

Love you!

-Sugar

✤✤✤✤✤

{Pt. 1}  {Pt. 2}  {Pt. 3}  {Pt. 4}  {Pt. 5}  {Pt. 6}  {Pt. 7}

くコ:彡 くコ:彡 くコ:彡 くコ:彡

Another week passed. A whole week of Tamaki falling more and more in love with you.

Everyone at the chateau had taken notice of her highness's mysterious new best friend, often seen giggling with one another while you walked through the halls.

You had helped Tamaki come up with a good story this time, which happened to work much better than letting him nod along to anyone trying to play twenty questions to learn more about him. As far as the staff was concerned, Tamaki was a foreigner from far away lands who couldn't speak the island tongue. You however, just so happened to speak the language he did know, and that was why he couldn't respond to anyone other than you.

On the topic of language, both you and Tamaki spent hours in your study together. You taught him everything you could about the human world (including how to read, which he was picking up quite well), while he told you tales of merpeople history and culture, teaching you sign language along the way. Tamaki couldn't help but be impressed with how quickly you learned the motions for each word and phrase. Every time you were able to hold a short conversation with him, a tiny fire of pride glowed just a little brighter in his chest.

His time alone with you, however, soon drew to a close. One morning, you shook him awake with an eager gleam in your eye.

"He's coming today!" you excitedly whispered to him, referring to your father.

You'd been ecstatic since the day before after learning he was on schedule to come back to Milrich, which was the island you were staying at for the time being. You were in one of your favorite dresses, (F/C) skirts softly swishing around your legs. Tamaki noticed that your hair was done differently today, and he had to admit, it looked really nice.

You decided that today would be a good time to take him around town, showing him the shop stands and letting him greet some of the townspeople. Tamaki was nervous at first, clinging to your side at all times and doing little more than offering small waves to people. You made sure to keep him distanced enough so that you wouldn't have to explain why he couldn't hold a conversation, but he enjoyed seeing the sights of the town all the same.

Something was really starting to bother him, though. The people around you treated you with so much respect. Some of them even did an odd sort of bending over for you when you passed by. A sick feeling began to churn in his stomach. It had to just be him overthinking things, right? But the way you lived looked so different from these other humans he saw. Did you have more money? You mentioned your father owning the islands. That had to be it.

Tamaki gnawed on his lip. If you were rich, what would that mean for your interest in him? He wasn't by any means an important merman. He wouldn't have anything to offer if you were to get together. Would your father accept him? He must be the one with the money. Why hadn't Tamaki worried about this more? Why hadn't he asked you earlier about what you were? He was so focused on himself and the fact that he was a merman, he'd barely had time to ask what a princess was.

A sound interrupted Tamaki's thoughts, leaving him little time to try and guess what it was or what it meant before you excitedly gasped and grabbed his hand. Brianne, who had been accompanying you both a few paces away hurried to attempt to keep up with the both of you as you sprinted in the direction of the shore. Tamaki saw an impressive ship docked at the end of an extensive boardwalk; planks leading out into dark waters. He noticed how the boat rocked, pushed and pulled by the waves constantly slapping its sides.

A middle-aged man stood at the bottom of a ramp, surrounded by a small crowd of people. He resembled you, or, maybe Tamaki should say you resembled him. From your face to your build to your hair, this man was undeniably your father.

"Daddy!" You broke off from Tamaki's hand and tore down the wooden dock in his direction.

At the sound of your voice, he looked up, eyes twinkling as he caught sight of you. He was only able to take a few steps toward you before you leapt into his arms, hugging yourself into his large chest.

Tamaki stood by himself at the end of the pier, watching your interactions. Most of your exchanged words were swallowed by distance and the sound of waves slapping against the support posts anchoring the dock. He startled when Brianne finally caught up, panting slightly as she brushed past him and continued her way down the pier, lifting her skirts from the path of her legs.

You were still speaking amiably with your father when she approached the two of you, doing one of those odd bending over things before her own mouth began to move in what Tamaki assumed was welcome for your father.

Her arrival seemed to distract you enough from your father to look around, catching sight of Tamaki still standing awkwardly on shore. You waved at him, then bit your lip as you waited for Brianne to finish talking.

When she finally did, you latched onto your father's arm, pulling him much like you did to Tamaki down the boardwalk, however, you went much slower.

"Father, there's someone I'd like you to meet," Tamaki heard you say as you approached.

He looked up from you and met Tamaki's eyes. He was too far away to determine what color they were, but Tamaki could tell they weren't quite the same hue as yours. They looked tired and worn, but warm and friendly all the same.

"This is Tamaki," you introduced. "He's a castaway from a shipwreck who washed ashore last week. He's been staying with me since."

Your father glanced between you and Tamaki for a moment, finally sizing up the boy before him. After a slightly awkward moment of silence, he offered his hand, which by now Tamaki knew he was supposed to shake. His hand was large and, much like yours, warm in his grasp.

"It's nice to meet you, young lad," your father said, still gripping Tamaki's hand. It didn't seem harsh, merely firm, possibly threatening. "Haven't been too much trouble for my daughter now, have you?"

Out of habit, Tamaki opened his mouth to answer, but stopped himself before he could make a legitimate attempt.

"You see," you spoke up for him, "Tamaki doesn't speak our tongue. He's foreign. Luckily it was among the many languages I have been practicing, so we have been able to communicate."

"Really now? Which one?"

You swallowed, quickly scanning through your mind for a plausible language that your father didn't speak. You named it, and he merely nodded, finally releasing Tamaki's hand.

"He's a very interesting person, father," you continued, holding onto your king's arm as you and his entourage began to make your way back to the chateau. "I have had many opportunities to learn from him. He's very interesting to listen to." You glanced across the way to share a smile with Tamaki, which he appreciated.

"I assume you've been keeping up with your studies as well?" your father asked with a slightly teasing smile.

"She has," Brianne piped up. "Quite nicely too, even with her new little friend who she's running around with at all hours of the day."

No one in the group was able to miss the color donning both yours and Tamaki's cheeks at her statement.

Your father merely smiled down at the both of you, catching your gaze with his warm eyes. "I'm glad you have a friend, (Y/N)."

You smiled softly at the grass below you. "I missed you, father."

"And I missed you, princess."

"The whole town has been awaiting your return," Brianne spoke again. "We should have something in celebration. A dance, perhaps?"

Tamaki wasn't quite certain what a dance was, but from the way you perked up it sounded like it was something to be excited about.

"Oh, daddy, we haven't had one in so long! It'll be wonderful!"

Tamaki suddenly noticed Brianne eyeing him a bit slyly, catching his gaze for a second before innocently roving her glance back ahead. He was clearly missing something, yet again. This was starting to get a bit annoying, having to wait before he could ask you every question he had in private.

"A dance it will be then," your father said. "We'll open the chateau grounds and the entire village will be invited."

You removed your arm from his in order to clap your hands together. "Oh, I'm so excited!"

...

What is a dance?

Tamaki hadn't been able to corner you all afternoon. You spent nearly all day with or around your father, which Tamaki more than understood. But there was no denying that without you, it was difficult to function in your world. What with his anxiety, it was a bit nice to not have just anyone trying to talk with him, but it was still a little unnerving when some of the chateau workers just stared at him from across the room, sometimes whispering amongst themselves. And while he thoroughly enjoyed every moment he spent with you, dependence wasn't his scene either.

So that's how he found himself holed up in his room, alone, having finally escaped the bustle of your chateau. It only seemed busier now that your father was here again, where Tamaki had been used to calm, quiet, nearly empty stone walls.

An hour or so later, you poked your head in to find him sprawled face down on his bed, trying to come up with ways to make a relationship between the two of you work. That is, if you were interested. And if Tamaki could finally just come out and tell you how he felt. Sometimes he found his own lip curling in frustration with himself. Why did he have to make it so hard on him?

"Tamaki?" Your sweet voice saying his name, just like the music that so easily lulled its way into his heart. "You doing okay?"

Tamaki lifted himself up so he could sit on the edge of the bed, and you joined him without hesitation. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just . . . a lot of people."

You tentatively placed a hand on his knee, making the raven haired boy's heart jump. "I'm sorry. It might be like this for another day or so until everything settles. I'll try to make time for you until then, okay?"

"Sure."

Your hand gave his knee the lightest of squeezes before pulling back to rest on your lap. "Are you excited for the dance?"

Tamaki bit his lip, relieved to finally be able to have the question that had been on his mind all day answered. "What's a dance?"

"Ah, you must not have them," you said. Tamaki could appreciate how understanding you were with him, never talking down to him like he was dumb. "They're parties. With food and music and dancing—"

"Oh, we do have those."

"So you'll accompany me?" you asked, allowing heat to spread a bit on your cheeks.

"What do you mean?"

Your blush intensified a little more. "You know. You can take people to these things and they can be your dance partner for the night . . . . Would you like to be mine?"

Tamaki's pulse quickened. "Of course! I'd love to. It's just, I've never really been to many parties or anything . . . ."

"And you probably don't know how to dance either. At least, not with human legs."

Tamaki shook his head.

"Come on." You stood, walking him to the door. You glanced around the hall before leaving his room, making your way all the way down to the door to the outside.

The sun had long since set, and the sky had been painted over with a heavy inky darkness. Tamaki couldn't help but take a moment to gaze up at the thousands of stars that were scattered outside the atmosphere. You'd taken him outside at night once a few days ago, pointing out constellations that had been illustrated in one of your books, spending hours together just looking at them as you talked.

He still found himself fascinated with them, only shaken from his trance by a light tug you'd given to his arm. "This way," you whispered. Tamaki didn't know why you were whispering, but there was something about the action that just seemed appropriate now.

You led him to an open area of grass, fringed by small trees on one side. The night sky was in full view all around, moonlight softly pooling onto every surface for miles. Tamaki could see you just well enough to truly appreciate your beauty, eyes running from your kind face to your sweet curves.

Without him scarcely being able to register it, you were suddenly so close to him; chest to chest in the middle of the clearing. His breath caught in his throat at your proximity, craving it and fearing it all at once.

"I'm going to teach you how to dance," you said, your voice low in the still night air.            I'm Renasha Bliss—

You gently guided his arms and hands to their positions, your own heart suddenly feeling flighty at his butterfly touch. Once he was secured, you settled your own hands and began to explain to him some of the basics.

"Now move with me, and keep loose. There will be music with a tempo, so you'll have that to follow, but for now, let's just go—" You began to guide his movements, your feet gliding with his over the soft grass. "One two three, one two three, one two three—" Your voice remained soft, concentrating on keeping your motions fluid to provide an example for Tamaki.

Every now and then, fireflies would be awakened by your feet, humming into the air and creating a light show all your own. Tamaki watched as their glow shone in your eyes, unable to take his own off them. They went so deep, and he loved every detail about their color, even from what little he could make out in the dark.

You kept whispering one two three, one two three, until you felt Tamaki begin to relax into your hold, letting his own legs guide him relatively smoothly with yours.

"Look at that," you paused in your chanting to beam at him. "You're a natural."

The two of you kept going, your count eventually replaced by gentle humming. Tamaki closed his eyes and let the music flow into his ears, guided only by your warm touch and the silent continuation of one two three he'd started in his head.

"Spin me," you whispered.

Tamaki blinked his eyes open enough to watch as you broke apart from him momentarily, still grasping his hand. He'd seen this spin done countless times back home, so he was familiar with the action of lifting his arm over your head as you spun slowly beneath him, skirts swishing around your calves.

A soft laugh tumbled from your lips as he pulled you back into him. You hadn't had a dance partner in years, and never had it truly felt this way. Tamaki and you fell back into the three-step, notes still leaking from your throat as you recalled a dance you had watched your mother perform with your father when you were young.

Encased in the spotlight of moonbeams, with insects your only orchestra, the whole moment was nothing but magical. You couldn't keep the smile off your face if you tried, and you even noticed Tamaki letting go of his normally tense demeanor and softly grinning at you as well.

"Spin me again," you whispered giddily, having picked up the pace of your inaudible one two three's.

Tamaki happily obliged, watching as you dipped under his arm and held your position away from him for a second, only to come back into his chest. Except, you suddenly didn't quite feel like dancing anymore. He stilled as he held you in his arms, pressing you close to his chest.

Your breathing quickened as he looked into your eyes, indigo hues boring into your own (E/C) depths. Your lips parted ever so slightly in awe of him, which he quickly noticed, breaking the gaze to stare at your full pillows.

Your breaths intermingling was the only sign to you that you were drawing ever closer, unable to look or move away, completely spellbound by the man before you who was not quite of this world.

Otherworldly, you thought, your hand lightly running from his shoulder to the back of his neck, already applying pressure to the base in order to pull him in further. That's what he was. That's how you felt. In this unbreakable moment, where time had slowed and the earth had stopped spinning.

A breath. "Tamaki."

The whispered sound of his name made his gaze snap to your eyes again.

"Are you sure?" you asked, voice breathy behind your lips.

"About what?" Tamaki whispered back, caught up in your intense gaze.

"Taking me as your princess," you said, so close in his face the tips of your noses nearly brushed up against each other.

Princess. The word nearly sent a chill down his spine. What did it mean? The question had been gnawing at the back of his mind from the first day he'd been here, yet he'd never had the courage to ask it. But you were so close, so tantalizingly close, and he didn't want anything more to keep itself wedged between you.

Without a second thought, Tamaki parted his lips. "Actually, there's another question I haven't asked. It's been bothering me for a while."

"Oh?"

"I, uh . . . I don't actually know what a princess is."

Your eyes widened. "You—you don't know?"

Tamaki flinched, the spellbound moment he'd been caught in suddenly crashing down around him. He'd insulted you, he was certain. This was why he hadn't asked in the first place. He already regretted the words that had fallen from his tongue, wishing he could suck them back in again, go back to seconds before, when you were dancing, when you were finally about to kiss—

"Do you—do you not have princesses?" you asked in disbelief. "No monarchy?"

Monarchy. The simple word made his blood run cold, feeling rushing from his face. You were . . . royalty? This whole time?

"I—there's the emperor and the empress," he stammered out, suddenly unable to meet your gaze. "But we've never had—I've never heard of—I didn't know—"

Your eyebrows creased in worry at his crumbling face. "Tamaki are you okay?"

"You're—you're royalty," he finally said, his world momentarily pausing in its spiraling descent around him.

He couldn't miss how your face suddenly fell. You looked so . . . disappointed, almost betrayed. How could Tamaki have messed up so bad?

"Yes." Your voice was distant as you answered.

That was all he needed. He had to go. He couldn't bear to see you, to have you see him.

Tamaki spun around and began to run off in the direction of the sea. His feet pounded against the grass, nearly flying over the surface of the ground. He'd been to this path so many times before in the week he'd lived with you, so the journey was no difficult or unfamiliar one.

For the first time since he'd gotten his legs, Tamaki truly couldn't breathe. He had to get away, he just had to. Never before had he felt so foolish, so embarrassed. You were royalty? And he thought he had a chance? He should have known. The moment he'd laid eyes on your perfect face, the second he'd heard your beautiful voice, been touched by your gentle caring hands, you were more than he could ever deserve, and Tamaki should have known not to convince himself that you could ever love him back.

It all made sense; your home that was bigger than everyone else's, the people who seemed so eager to answer to every beck and call, everything from the way you carried yourself to the delicate circlet that always wrapped around your head.

You had status. You had money. You had power. You had no business being with someone as lowly as a merman like him.

His feet hit sand and the sound of the sea crashed into his ears. He ran into the waves, not caring that they were cold, not caring that they were so strong they could throw him against a rock and he could die. He only cared that it was wet and it was home and it was away.

Tamaki fought the opposing force, nearly screaming in frustration as a wave pushed him back towards shore, silently begging him to go back. Its pleas fell on deaf ears, and Tamaki focused all his energy on surging forward until he was up to his neck in the salty water. He yanked the shell necklace over his head and tossed it away, angry at how he'd once held so much hope in it. He thought it would set him free, not destroy his life. He threw it somewhere behind him, incapable of thinking of consequences for his actions.

He started to feel funny, his body beginning to reconstruct itself much like it had so many days before. This transformation was faster and far less painful, but Tamaki still stumbled forward, his face colliding with an oncoming wave as his legs started to fuse together. He held his breath and buried his arms in the sand to hold himself under the violent waters, waiting for his tail to reform and his gills to come back. Finally it was complete, and he pushed himself off the seafloor, pumping his powerful tail in the direction of home.

Home.

He couldn't go back. What would Mirio think?

Tamaki frantically whipped between the black rocks that jutted from the waves, hoping to fight off the strong watery forces in his moments of adrenaline. Soon, he surpassed the location where he had leaned against the rocks to watch you, experiencing what a human was for the first time. He passed where he'd grown legs and nearly drowned, claimed and spat out by the sea which had been his home. Finally he was where he'd last parted ways with Mirio, right before he'd started on this long, chaotic journey.

Tamaki floated still in the water, finally letting himself stop. His arms wrapped around himself, physically trying to keep himself from falling apart more than he already had.

He hadn't been submerged in the ocean for so long, it felt surreal. The weightlessness, the cold, the darkness. For the first time, none of it was comforting. He already missed the sun and the grass and the air and your wonderful face—

You. He had been a fool. A fool in love. An idiot infatuated by a fantasy, a fantasy where the two of you could be together, no matter who you were or where you came from.

Tamaki felt himself sinking. He didn't care. He kept his elbows to his chest and his face in his hands as his surroundings got colder and darker. The crushing feeling in his chest was worse than any water pressure he'd ever experienced.

His caudal fins brushed sand, and he soon found himself lying on the seafloor. He couldn't move for now. It was almost as if there wasn't a thought in his mind other than his own self-hatred.

What was it you said humans did? Cry? That's what Tamaki felt like doing. Except he couldn't. He wasn't a human anymore. His dreams had come to an end, and now he was little more than alone in the vast blue darkness that had once been his home.

...

To be continued . . . .

くコ:彡 くコ:彡 くコ:彡 くコ:彡

[Part Seven]

Author's Note:

Whoof, that was heavy.

Sorry this one was a little shorter than the others but oh well, variety I guess ('−｀) ﾝ. Don't worry, I promise there will be a happy ending!

Thanks again for reading! Love you guys!

-Sugar

Taglist:

@inumorph​ @engel-hageshii​ @good-so​ @krissy189​ @milkteeboba​ @pansexual-potterhead​ @ure-a-sunflower​ @xeina​ @kingtamakimurder​ @basicaegyo​ @iiminibattlehero​ @pyrofanatic​​ @sokkasangel​ @xoxopam4​

[rigelmejo]

6/28 I DID A LOT

WOOH

WOOH

I talked in chinese today! For around a half hour!! AHHHHHHHH

ANYWAY

AHHHHHHH

IM SO HAPPY I WAS UNDERSTANDABLE AHHGGHGSIUSJAJEJDJEEJIE

So first of all I practiced with Google translate today beforehand (lol yes machine translate isn’t perfect). I clicked the app, clicked transcribe, spoke in chinese then saw if the English translation it was producing was close enough to what I was trying to mean to say. (Also I learned chinese transcribe will need to process for a few moments if you play Chinese audio like from a podcast because at first it will give you a sucky transcription lol and then correct itself). Anyway so I did that and quickly learned: Google translate WILL fucking think I am speaking sentences when I’ve only said a couple words of my sentence because I pause “too long” so when I tried thinking of tones or grammar I spoke too fucking slow for the app so BAM I had to speak faster for the app just to comprehend me. So I did not practice Thinking about how the fuck to say things right much, just how to recall words on a fucking speed time limit lol. So uh that was an experience. I’ll definitely say that my 学习普通话 app is way better for me actually practicing pronunciation with any success, because Google just will NOT tolerate me speaking slowly goddamn.

Anyway so then tonight I spoke with my language partner. Well

WELL

good news: I was understood, I was told I sound pretty standard and they can tell I maybe imitate some peoples phrases and words from shows I watch (which in this case is a compliment since they said weeks ago when I asked how they improved their standard mandarin accent for a speech competition that’s what They did and the kind of shadowing they suggested I try doing more for accent work).

My grammar and word choice was understandable (I KNOW I wasn’t perfect and there were fucking mistakes Especially just notable spots where I forgot common words and tried to talk Circles around those words to describe them since I know Enough words to kind of “explain around” and come up with a more word description of a simple word I forgot sometimes but fuck is it probably awkward to listen to. Like I forgot “back then/at that time” so I said “the time when I was in high school” or “in high school I..” just because I couldn’t say “that time” on the spot, also fucking I forgot how to say “also” and “or” in certain ways and just had to figure out a different way to make my point like “this is like that” or “not the same” ToT).

Anyway regardless it’s a real big accomplishment to me. Reasons being: 1. I’ve never talked in chinese that long straight or to someone else communicating, or telling stories about my life and asking questions and actually testing my fucking communication abilities past small talk. Even talking alone to myself it’s just phrases or small situations where if I forget a word I just stop, so this was huge for me. 2. I did not have time to think about tones period while talking today with my language partner so like being comprehensible is!!!! GREAT. Considering I tried speaking to a language partner simple common word tone pair examples or very simple small talk at 5 months into learning and remember being incomprehensible like 50% of the time. Versus me now a little under 2 years in so being able to simply not be constantly thinking about tones and still know I might be understood (and in this specific case was understood) is nice to know. 3. I did better at winging vocabulary and talking my way around words I didn’t know than i thought I could. 4. REALLY simply tone and grammar being comprehensible is blowing my mind on its own - I know there were many mistakes (I personally could hear my 3rd tone not always sounding right to my own ear, and know I heard a few grammar mistakes I heard after I’d made my point lol). But just being comprehensible enough for someone understand my points even if I made those mistakes was really cool. 5. I’m hoping this means all the things I’ve been doing lately: the Listening Reading, the watching shows with English subs this month while repeating some of the Chinese lines to myself, listening to audiobooks and repeating many of the lines to myself, and the weekly language exchange I’ve been doing, have all been helping to some degree. Improving production skills is not something I’ve tried studying before and so basically all that I’m doing is flailing around trying stuff and hoping something is useful. It’s nice to see something must be if I’ve managed this.

Anyway it was just very very cool to be understandable. ;-; At this time last year I was absolutely assuming it would take years to get even a little understandable. Also for now idk this proved to me to maybe just stick to shadowing for a while and Not specifically thinking of tones While actively speaking. For a while I thought of them actively which made me clearer and I think was important and helped, at this point currently I think sometimes i overthink and trying to speak from memory/more shadowing practice might help it become a bit more automatic? And then I can go back to some corrective work where I’m messing up specifically or haven’t internalized certain words/phrases tones maybe.

—

IN OTHER NEWS

today I ALSO played 4 hours of Kingdom Hearts II in Japanese WHICH WAS AN EXPERIENCE

AN EXPERIENCE IVE NEVER HAD BEFORE LIKE FUCKING THIS

So 1. EONS easier than last time I studied Japanese. For context at 2-2.5 years into studying Japanese I played the opening of KH2. I remember it was brutal, I used my phone constantly to look up words, but I got through like the opening portion to the first save point after the haunted mansion (so like is that day 2? Basically what’s usually .5-1 hour of play or less that took me a few hours back then). It was doable, kinda brutal, but also I have kh2 near to my heart so I could play it without reading when I felt drained. Now?? I had over a year break from Japanese study (maybe 2-3 years break idk). I reviewed Japanese in I think March-April 2021 this year. April/May to June (now) I’ve been studying some new material. The biggest new material being some more Nukemarine memrise decks, and Clozemaster as of this month. So like... this Eons of improvement is after a long ass gap of no study, a cram review, and some just beyond last-times-progress kind of new study. It is a HUGE difference to me in how it feels.

I did not use a dictionary at all this time. I did not play slow either, I read at a speed much more bearable, I comprehended most sentences totally (understanding words because of a mix of knowing most words, knowing the context for the words since I know KH2 WELL, knowing Hanzi from chinese, and thanks to Clozemaster of all things feeling a lot better/quicker with Japanese grammar comprehension), and a few sentences I knew the overall gist because of recognizing the Hanzi (tho they were being used in words that aren’t similar to Chinese), the grammar overall (the rough intention of the sentence), and knowing KH2 well enough to remember the main idea of th English sentence. So it was overall a much more pleasant, easygoing experience this time around playing! It was something where I COULD play 50 hours of Japanese KH2 now.

This kind of showed me some things: first that knowing a basis in chinese (for me) makes a huge difference. Kanji now make words easier for me to learn and guess. I can now recognize when some pronunciations are somewhat similar to Chinese words. I can recognize when some kanji are used to mean Different things from Chinese (since I know the English context too). I can also now actually Like and Appreciate that KH2 specifically uses kanji in some speech bubbles and scenes then hiragana for the same words at other times - it gives me a chance to use context to see both versions of the word and learn both the pronunciation and kanji a bit more. Now I have katakana English like words and kanji (in the sense of their similarities to Hanzi) and my basic grammar grasp to rely on to parse sentences which makes all of it much easier. For me chinese was just easier, and that’s now paying off also in making Japanese easier in some ways than it was before.

I also appreciate now why “prior context” and “comprehensible input” are encouraged so much. My effort level is comfortable and NOT draining, so I could’ve kept my playing for hours and I did not need a dictionary for new words because I had TONS of context. Part of this is KH2 being a game I know super well (so even back at year 2 it was doable if draining when no other video game probably would’ve been doable at all). So it makes sense now it would be the first comfortable feeling one. It is VERY comprehensible input for me, especially now with some of the Japanese improvements I’ve made.

Whereas I tried to play crisis core a month ago (doable but DRAINING in part because I knew the game so comprehensible but I didn’t HAVE the game remembered by heart like KH2 so I had to slow down to read everything slowly and figure out words much slower with no prior meaning in my head for many parts), and persona 3 (which was doable but DRAINING in part because I have little prior context compared to cc or KH2 and in part because it has so much reading). Also KH2 is easier to read than cc or persona 3 - kh2 is obviously meant for age 10+ and so the amount of text I’m required to read is shorter, a lot of conversational stuff and not layered (cc had a lot of technical paragraphs of directions for missions and persona is aimed at older teens and has much more like “think about it more long term” conversations which I struggle more to parse). Also just persona 3 has so much dialogue I started speed reading just to get to a save point which felt Draining. Whereas KH2 the reading is comfortable so I don’t read too slow, and so it doesn’t feel as draining since it’s not slow nor do I have to rush at lower comprehension to get through it - I can just read and comprehend everything as much as I can at a reasonably non draining pace.

Also I DO think Clozemaster (so kudos to u app) is actually helping noticeably. I’m doing Clozemaster Japanese by common word tracks (still in the 100 most common words sentences and almost done). I’ve been doing listening mode and then reading sentences after. I can TELL it’s helped me already with the following. I’m doing better at recognizing some grammar structure particles/words/conjugations in various forms and levels of politeness. I now have much less issue telling how to separate sentences into word/grammar functions - it makes everything just much easier to start being able to segment my sentences as I read so I can just pinpoint WHAT parts I know versus don’t know and what their rough function is (and since in KH2 I know the English lines usually it makes it way easier to guess what words mean roughly what English translation). I also read some manga during this past month that’s also helped with this skill. I noticed Clozemaster also is just helping with it a lot since in Clozemaster the politeness level varies and stuff so I’m forced to practice guessing and figuring it out more with Clozemaster sentences over and over. The listening mode has helped because I can tell that some of the most common words I can hear more instinctively now and read aloud at a more normal pace now. I still CLEARLY read over listening when the subtitles in KH2 are there if I don’t know a word, so my listening has HUNDREDS or likely thousands of hours to go (my Chinese is much much better). But I can already notice the sheer fact Clozemaster listening question mode is forcing me to 1 HEAR Japanese more (and I need like what 2000 hours listening) and 2 start recognizing more easily at least recognizing words I’ve learned when I hear them (whereas before I would struggle to hear certain words even if I’d studied just because I’d read-studied a lot but not actually heard much of those words much). Now this all isn’t a huge help with new words in KH2 since I’m learning to read them from the game but my listening isn’t picking them up or Parsing them well. But as far as IN Clozemaster: yes the constant audio word drilling is helping me recognize words by sound which is great since thanks to Chinese kanji recognition is now not intensely difficult, it’s the sound recognition and match up to spelling that’s now the major confusion for me. I mean grammar is also confusing.. and will take years... I do think Clozemaster forcing me to practice interpreting the grammar somewhat with nothing to help me is helping me at least feel less drained by the grammar. I used Clozemaster before for french and chinese at the stage between graded readers and actual native speaker material, and I think for Japanese it’s also Good for this purpose. Clozemaster is good for a lot of immersion-like sentence reading practice, with tools to make it easier like a translation and mostly words you know in each sentence. Making it a bit easier than just diving into the deep end into a random novel. I do think it helps with preparing you for less learner-tailored materials a bit while still being easier than native speaker materials so you can practice without feeling youre drowning.

anyway ahh. WOOH I PLAYED KH2 in japanese today!!! I HAD FUN

gonna do it some more.

kh2 is maybe THE original reason i started trying to learn japanese. its really fun playing it now.

—-

And finally, while I’m at it: I am ALMOST done with the Sundial arc in Guardian Listening Reading wise. I’m on chapter 17. I have like 2 days left so who knows maybe I can manage to finish the sundial arc we’ll see.

What I mostly did this month was Redo L-R chapter 1-12 with a second audiobook, read the novel print version up to chapter 12, read chapter 1-2 in the traditional print version, also read maybe 4 chapters of other random things, listened to audiobook files of stuff overall idk 20+ times while repeating after a lot of lines, did a small amount of Clozemaster chinese (mostly just Radio mode), did 30 min - 1 hour writing or speaking language exchange sessions once a week, and watch a bunch of Chinese shows with English subs this month while repeating after a lot of lines.

As you can tell my reading Amount lowered significantly since the past couple months. However, I think I’ve pushed up my listening amounts a little.

[spaceskam]

covered in scars i did nothing to earn

Summary: 5 times Forrest finds old scars on Alex’s body + 1 time he sees a new one

warnings: mentions of past self-harm, descriptions of violent/dangerous situations, past child abuse, sexual situations, vague mention of 2x06 but not That Thing from 2x06

.1.

Forrest quite liked the feeling of Alex’s skin.

He was scarred beyond understanding, but his skin was still soft and taken care of with only little bumps. His body hair sometimes camouflaged the little ones and Forrest had created a game with himself to find them like an Easter egg hunt when they were in bed together.

Tonight was no different as he kept his head on Alex’s shoulder and dragged his fingers through his chest hair. It was barely there, but it was enough to play optical illusions.

“Oh,” he breathed, rubbing his index finger gently into a little knot of a scar over his heart, “What’s that from?”

Alex lifted his head to look at it as if he didn’t know before letting his head all back to the pillow. Forrest kissed his arm before snuggling back into his shoulder.

“Got stabbed,” Alex said like it wasn’t a big deal. Forrest lifted his head and stared at him with furrowed eyebrows.

“You got stabbed?” he said, trying to keep the calm demeanor that Alex had, “Over your heart?”

“Yeah,” Alex yawned, his eyes settling closed, “Leather tools or whatever.”

“You got stabbed with a leather slicker?” Forrest said, eyes wide as he looked closer at the scar. It was still sort of red, newer than the rest. “When did that happen?”

Alex was quiet and Forrest wondered if he’d fallen asleep, but when he looked at his eyes, he was looking right back at him. He looked like he didn’t understand why he was asking.

“I don’t really want to talk about this,” Alex said cautiously. Forrest adjusted himself just a little, worry still heavy in his system. 

“Well, are you at least okay?” Forrest asked. Alex nodded, combing his hands through his hair.

“Yeah,” he said, “I’m fine.”

Forrest wasn’t quite sure he believed that, but he pressed a kiss over the scar and laid his head down on Alex’s chest again.

.2.

Forrest felt stupid.

He’d stopped kissed Alex the minute he got on his knees, instead finding his eyes locked on the scars lining Alex’s hip. Precise lines, all the same size and all in a row with the occasional vertical line across them. They were old, that much was clear, but they were there. He hadn’t noticed them before.

“You okay?” Alex asked, looking down at him. Forrest quickly made it look like he wasn’t staring, like he wasn’t overthinking everything Alex had told him about his childhood, like he wasn’t terrified for a boy he he’d never met.

But this was a man. He wasn’t going to bring it up and make him feel guilty for what he couldn’t change.

“Yeah,” Forrest nodded, pushing a kiss on Alex’s lower stomach, “I’m okay.”

As he settled himself between Alex’s thighs, he couldn’t help but look for similar scars. He found them, too, a row high on his inner thigh. Forrest’s stomach dropped, but he tried not to think about it as he took Alex into his mouth, doing his damnedest to make him feel good. 

But, because Forrest was notorious at self sabotage, he found himself thinking about the other people Alex had slept with in his life. Had they noticed? Alex had told him that most of them were quick fucks in dark allies, so they probably hadn’t. But Michael Guerin had seen them, surely. Had he made Alex feel okay about them? Had he comforted him? Had he gotten the entire story?

Forrest zoned out for too many seconds in a row and started actually choking to the point he fell back on his ass as he sucked in a deep breath. Alex was staring down at him with wide eyes.

“Are you okay?” Alex asked, voice sweet and full of genuine concern, “I’m sorry, did I-”

“No, you didn’t do anything, I’m just stupid,” Forrest laughed, managing a smile as he looked up at him, “I was thinking about dinner and forgot what I was doing.”

“Oh, jeez, I’m that much of a turn off?” Alex laughed, holding his hand out to help him to his feet. Forrest shook his head.

“No, I just didn’t eat much today,” Forrest lied. Alex gave an exaggerated pout.

“You should’ve said something, you wanna order pizza?” Alex suggested, pulling him in closer. Forrest rested his head on Alex’s, giving him a small kiss and loving the way he smiled against his lips. 

"Sounds good,” Forrest said. Alex smiled wider and pulled up his jeans before finding his phone. Forrest laid against his chest, letting Alex wrap his arms around him and order the pizza while he held him close without question.

Someone had to have showed Alex he was loved and needed, right? He wouldn’t be this sweet if they hadn’t.

Besides, they were old. He would be okay as long as he remembered that.

.3.

“And you’re sure you’re okay with this?”

“Stop asking me or I’ll change my mind,” Alex laughed, quickly followed by a sneeze that rocked through his whole body and a loud groan. Forrest smiled in adoration, huffing a little laugh as he scooted a little closer. 

Forrest moved closer and gently pulled Alex’s stump into his lap, giving him one last look to make sure it was okay before he slowly started massaging the scar like Alex had showed him. It was something he’d seem Alex to before, but he never stared and had never offered to help. Help, this was the first time Alex even let him touch this specific scar. It was a lot for him and it was a massive privilege. 

“So, what does this do exactly?” Forrest asked, wanting to keep the conversation going.

“Well, it’s a desensitization technique that they made me start doing before I got my prosthetic. I think I could technically stop doing it, but it helps a lot with phantom pain and on days where I don’t use my prosthetic, it keeps the scar tissue used to movement and friction, stuff like that,” Alex explained, voice nasal from his stuffy nose. Forrest smiled a little helplessly at the sound.

“Do you want me to wash it too?” Forrest offered. Alex made a face.

“I can do that when I go to brush my teeth.”

“Okay,” Forrest said, not wanting to push. Alex hummed and settled into his pillow more. He was cute when he let his guard down. Well, he was always cute, but it was infinitely more obvious on days like this when he was all soft and cuddly. He leaned down and pressed a kiss on his other leg.

“Don’t kiss me, you’re gonna get sick,” Alex scolded. Forrest laughed.

“It’s your leg, no sickness germs are going to seep out and get me sick anymore than just being around you will,” Forrest said. Alex groaned.

“I don’t want you to get sick,” Alex whined before repeating the same phrase he’d been saying since he got sick the day before, “You should go home.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Forrest insisted. Alex sighed semi-dramatically and looked up at him with the world’s sweetest eyes. 

Not for the first time, Forrest wondered just how much Alex felt his own feelings. He always seemed hardened, but his eyes betrayed him and showed just how big his heart was. Forrest kissed his leg again.

“Thank you,” Alex sighed softly, “For taking care of me.”

“Always.”

.4.

“Stupid fucking hair regulations.”

“You could always say fuck the man and grow it out all long and nice,” Forrest suggested, honestly kind of sad as Alex plugged in the clippers. He hadn’t seen Alex with regulation hair, but he knew he liked having something to put his hands through.

“Not an option, unfortunately,” Alex huffed, turning on the clippers and just taking it to his head without hesitation. Forrest visibly grimaced as the side just fell off. “Stop it, you’re making this harder.”

“I’m sorry,” Forrest sighed, sitting on the edge of the bathtub. 

“It’s okay,” Alex said, buzzing off more. He left the top a little bit longer than the sides, but it wasn’t long enough. It really felt like the end of an era. Forrest watched closely, still, and he felt his eyebrows slowly come together as he saw a visible white line on the side of his head.

“Do you have a scar on your head?” he asked bluntly. Alex looked at him through the mirror.

“Yeah.”

“How?”

Alex didn’t answer right away, touching up his hair with unmatched precision. It made Forrest wonder how young he was when he started doing that by himself. Whenever he was in the military, he always had to get someone to help. Alex didn’t.

Eventually, Alex was done and he looked like a new person. Like a soldier. Forrest had mixed feelings.

“My dad made us keep regulation cuts when we were kids,” Alex explained, “My brother didn’t use a guard. Pretty sure he didn’t do it on purpose.”

Forrest’s whole body tensed and his eyes widened, involuntarily feeling the pain of it secondhand. Alex just stared at him, unflinching and unbothered. Maybe that was why he liked his hair long. There was a doubt in him on whether his brother had deliberately cut his head open.

“You okay?” Forrest asked cautiously. Alex nodded, shrugging it off.

“Yeah, my dad gave me stitches, I’m fine.”

The worst part was he said it like it was normal.

.5.

Forrest had his arms wrapped around Alex as tight as he could with the center console between them, shushing him as he sobbed into his chest.

He wasn’t sure what set him off. They’d been fine enough, just walking around the park and holding hands and talking about getting ice cream. Something had switched in him though as they passed the playground and Alex suggested they go right then, so they went back to the car. And then on the drive to the ice cream shop, Alex broke into tears. Forrest pulled over immediately to soothe him.

He knew Alex was a bit off when he woke up that morning, so he suggested the park to give him something chill to think about it. He didn’t expect anything there would set him off. 

“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” Forrest promised, trying to breathe in sync with Alex to ground him. It took awhile, but he eventually calmed down. He didn’t let go of Forrest’s shirt.

“I’m sorry,” Alex whispered, “I didn’t mean to ruin your day.”

“You didn’t ruin anything, it’s okay. Don’t feel bad,” Forrest promised, pressing a soft kiss into the side of his head. Alex took another shaky breath, not moving from his place pressed into Forrest's chest.

Forrest thought back through all of the things Alex had subtly revealed about his childhood, trying to find a moment that could've hinted about a playground or a park being a trigger. He couldn't think of one, the closest one being his mom bringing all four of her sons to a park the day she ran off without a goodbye. But Alex never got like this when he talked about his mom.

"I'm sorry I brought you here," Forrest said, "I didn't know."

"No, it's just..." Alex said, sniffling as he sat up a little, "It's just a bad day. Could've been anything."

"But I knew that, so I'm still sorry," Forrest insisted. Alex huffed a small laugh, wiping his face dry as he sniffled again.

"You're too good to me," Alex said. Forrest shrugged and didn't say anything. He didn't feel like he was too good for Alex. In fact, he was still quite sure he wasn't good enough for him at all. "Guess I kind of owe you an explanation."

"You don't owe me anything," Forrest promised. Alex sniffled, shaking his head.

"No, I never give you an explanation, but this time I have one," Alex said, taking a deep, steadying breath. Forrest listened intently. "This, um, this was the park my dad took me when I was little when I got into trouble at school. I was, uh, super antagonistic in those years right after my mom left, I was so mad at everyone all the time. But, uh, he would take me here and every single time I could trick myself into thinking it was going to be okay. We'd walk around for an hour and we'd talk about what happened. He'd ask me why I did it, talk through it. It always seemed like it was going to end well. Then, um, then..."

"Alex," Forrest said softly, shaking his head, "You don't have to–"

"Then he told me to pick my own switch," Alex finished, breathing heavily. Forrest felt sick. "'Cause having a reason didn't excuse my actions, he said. I don't know, I just saw that tree and I just..."

"Jesus, Alex, I'm so sorry," Forrest breathed, leading him back to lay against his chest. He went willingly. He thought about Alex's body and tried to remember where scars from that might be. But Alex was six when his mom left, the chances of those having faded by now were high. And then Forrest was faced with the image of six year old Alex walking through the park, holding his dad's hand, and picking out the stick he'd get beaten with later that evening. "Fuck, I'm sorry."

"Not your fault," Alex said, "I-It's not even that big of a deal, tons of people had to do that, I'm just having a bad day."

"It doesn't matter how many people had to do that, it's still fucked. You're allowed to be upset with that no matter what kind of day it is," Forrest insisted, "I'll pick a different park next time."

Alex gave a soft laugh, "Okay."

"You still want ice cream?" he wondered. Alex sniffled and shrugged. "How about we stop by the store and I'll run in and get some and then we can eat it in bed with Buffy?"

Alex took another breath, steadier than any of the ones before.

"I'd like that."

.+1.

Forrest woke up to frantic knocking on his front door and Buffy barking.

"Who the fuck–"

He stopped speaking when he opened the door to see Michael and Kyle carrying a limp Alex between them. He didn't even ask questions as he got out of the way, letting them pull Alex inside and lay him on the coffee table. Kyle ripped open his shirt to reveal a bullet wound in his stomach. Buffy barked in concern beside them, trying to peer onto the table.

"Oh my God," he breathed, panic rocking through him as he saw his boyfriend who said he was just going a recruitment trip. That wasn't supposed to lead to this.

"Sorry, you were just the closest and we can't bring him to the hospital without Isobel because they'll ask questions," Kyle explained.

"I-I don't understand," Forrest breathed, "How did he..."

"Get shot? Because your boyfriend is determined to die a martyr," Michael said, not taking his eyes off of the wound. Forrest could barely think straight. Actually, he couldn't at all. "Can you put the dog away?"

"He'll be okay," Kyle promised, looking up at Michael as Forrest dazedly led Buffy to the bathroom, "Do your thing."

And then Forrest really was hallucinating his entire night because Michael's hand started glowing.

It was alight for a few seconds before Alex's eyes opened. Michael lunged to the side, grabbing the bag Kyle thrusted at him and vomiting in it in the same moment Alex groaned in pain.

"Forrest, come distract him, I don't have any anesthetics," Kyle instructed, gloves somehow already on his hands. Forrest was shaking and his mind was scrambled, but he obeyed and knelt by Alex's head. He held his head in his hands.

"Hey, babe, definitely would've liked a heads up," Forrest said. Alex gave a dopey smile, still sweating and clearly in pain. Forrest gave him a kiss on the forehead and stole another look at his abdomen. The wound looked fifty times better than it had before Michael did the glowy thing. He filed that away for questions to ask later.

It was when Kyle neared it with a suture needle that Forrest looked back to Alex. He tensed whenever the needle pierced him, but he just took a shallow breath to keep still. He didn't scream, didn't flinch, just breathed. Forrest found his hand and let him squeeze even if it hurt.

"You're doing great," Forrest insisted. Alex just breathed in slowly. Michael appeared beside him then, breath smelling of vomit and nail polish remover. It was the worst smell he'd ever been forced to smell.

"You really gotta stop playing hero," Michael told him.

"Says you," Alex shot back. Forrest didn't comment, just pushed his hair back and pressed another kiss to his head. "Sorry if I get blood on your new rug."

"Hush, I don't care as long as you're okay," Forrest told him. Alex nodded, taking another deep breath.

They sat there while Kyle stitched him up, Forrest kissing his head and Michael squeezing Alex's other hand. Eventually, Kyle was done.

"Can we stay here? I don't want to move him more and I need to look over him," Kyle said. Forrest nodded.

"Yeah, whatever you need, just keep him safe," Forrest said. He sat there with Alex for a few more minutes before he managed to get himself to his feet. "Gonna go get you some water, okay?"

A few shaky steps later, Forrest was grabbing three ups and filling them with water. A hand reached around him to grab his cup and Forrest followed it to Michael. He had a billion questions, but the guy was clearly having his own rough day and the questions could be saved for the morning.

"Thank you," Forrest said, "Not sure exactly what you did, but... you helped him, I think, so... Thanks."

Michael paused in the middle of downing his water, slowly pulling it away from him mouth as he looked at Forrest. He waited for whatever kind of reaction someone has when they just saved their ex-boyfriend's life and then had that person's new boyfriend kiss them.

"You're treating him right, aren't you?" Michael asked. Forrest nodded.

"I'm doing my best," Forrest said. Michael nodded curtly.

"Good. He deserves it. Keep it up, bro," he said, voice a little awkward and disjointed. He reached out a little, hesitated, and then went through with patting Forrest on the shoulder before grabbing another cup and bringing it into the kitchen. Forrest was too overwhelmed to even process that that was weird and grabbed the final cup and following him.

Forrest knelt beside Alex and helped prop his head up to help him drink. He sighed thankfully as the water got into his system.

"You know, I usually let you slide on the explanation thing, but I think I need one this time," Forrest said to him. Alex looked at him with his warm eyes and nodded, his head resting comfortably in Forrest's palm. So he didn't move it when he let Alex's head back down.

"I will," Alex said.

"At least you got another scar for the collection, much cooler story," Michael said, a lighter tone in his voice. Alex snorted a laugh but groaned at the pain it brought him. "Sorry."

"No, you're good," Alex said, "You're right."

"There is absolutely nothing cool about being shot," Kyle scoffed.

"Shut up, Dr. McDreamy, you vote doesn't count," Michael said before looking at Forrest, "You think his scars are cool, don't you, Forrest?"

Forrest blinked at him and then looked down at Alex who was looking at him expectantly. He didn't know how to say that cool wasn't the word he'd use. Tragic, maybe, a sign of his strength. Not cool. But they made him Alex, so that was something cool.

"Yeah," Forrest agreed, "Very cool."

Alex smiled and closed his eyes and Forrest officially accepted that this was his life now.

He was absolutely okay with that.

[angelic-jeonghan1004]

A chance || Leedo Collage! Au

Okay soooo I decided to make this a collage! au since I just did a Leedo Request and it gives me more help in this request I was given :)) I hope you're alright with it being collage au if not I will make another one💞

Synposis: you and Leedo are really good friends, you both have a mutual feeling but don't know if the other feels the same.

Prompts: #2 "I've always liked you" & #10 "please kiss me"

Pairing: Leedo x reader

Warning: none! Just fluff! Friends to lovers collage! au

Gif credits to owner

Your friendship with Leedo had always been strong, you both could be seen together a lot of the time for how close you both are. You both just clicked reall well together, you met through Keonhee your friend from music saying he think you'd both make great friends and oh was he right, but what he probably didn't call was your incredibly strong feelings for him that would become of it. You can't really blame yourself for falling for him when he's probably what anyone would want in a boyfriend though. You weren't fully sure if he liked you back or not, there'd be times where it definitely seems like the feeling could be mutual but you also could just be overthinking it, plus you don't want to ruin your relationship as is since the friendship is so strong. Brushing over that crush on your shoulder you got ready to go meetup with Leedo, Seoho and Hwanwoong for lunch at a nearby care you hadn't tried yet. You got ready and checked to see if you could just walk to the cafe and luckily you could, you started walking your walk and it was very nice to have a peaceful and quiet walk since you hadn't in a while. Once you arrived at the Cafe you realized you where 10 minutes early, you decided since you where early to order and grab a spot for you all. About 3 minutes passed and Leedo arrived, he saw you and smiled. Decided to take his order and head to the table, he decided to his in the seat infront if you so you where facing eachother, the setting seemed like a date which caused you to blush at the thought.

"well what are you thinking about that has you blushing?" He said in a joking tone but you could tell he was curious.

"oh nothing,, just stuff" you giggled and the warm look in his eyes was beaming, he looked from your eyes to your hand and questioned if he wanted to hold it, it's not like you hadn't held hands in the past he just always had to hype himself up before being affectionate with you. He decided to just go for it and link your hands together causing you to laugh at how shy he looked after.

"hey don't laugh I just wanted to hold your hand" he said smiling not realizing the blush that crept back on your face once more. You two continued to chat till Seoho and Hwanwoong arrived.

"sorry to be late I was finishing up my project so I didn't have to worry about it all through lunch." Hwanwoong said with a sweet smile.

"we'll go order our drinks we'll be right back." Seoho said walking up to the cashier, Hwanwoong following. You and Leedo took sips of your drinks and continued to chat. Once they arrived back with their drinks they both sat down at the table, Hwanwoong next to you. You unlinked your hands from Leedo and gave Hwanwoong a small hug.

"From a outsiders perspective it could look like we crashed on a date." Seoho said laughing causing you and Leedo cheeks to turn a warm red, you where shocked how much you could blush in one day.

"yeah with the hand holding and Leedos longing stare at you people would probably think your lovers" Hwanwoong joked.

"it wouldn't suprised me if you both dated, you're a really good match for eachother" Seoho said elbowing Leedos side only causing him to become more red.

"enough of what Leedo and I's love life could be, how have you both been?" You said causing Leedo to stare at you from how you phrased it, was he dreaming or did you kinda say he had a chance?? Well he'll take that chance and run with it but not right now. You all continue to chat and after about 2 hours you all think it's a good time to get back to your places. Seoho and Hwanwoong bid there goodbyes and you got up to start heading home but Leedo grabbed you by the wrist and pulling you towards him, causing you a bit of shock.

"can I walk you home?" He said quietly. You smiled and moved your arm so you where holding hands.

"of course." You said exiting the cafe with him, you both talked and you got butterflies in your stomach from hope perfect he is, you're feelings for him where so strong you didn't know if you could take it much longer but for now you where just going to enjoy the moment. You continued to joke around and it felt so quick since little did you know it you where already home, you could tell he had something on his mind so even though you could've ended it there you wanted to know what was up. You walked to the door of your apartment and faced him.

"what's up? I can tell something's on your mind" you said putting your hand on his shoulder and rubbing it slightly.

"you caught me, I had been thinking about it ever since you said 'Leedo and I's love life could be' does that mean I have a chance? Since I've been trying to ball up the courage for a while since I've always liked you and need to be sure there's something there." He said looking anywhere but you, you smiled so wide and took his hand.

"of course you have a chance, you're everything someone could ever want, I coul never tell if you liked me back or not from all the signals. I don't know if this is too much of a request but could you please kiss me?" You said looking at him, he moved closer to you and smiled.

"Absolutely" he said leaning in, you shared a sweet kiss that had your heart pounding. Everything about it made you wonder if it was even real. You pulled away from the kiss and held your hand out

"Want to come inside?" You said smiling like a idiot. He took your hand in his.

"Of course."

[wordsinwinters]

Then Again, Part 25  (Peter Parker x Reader)

Masterlist (with AO3 links)

Total word count: 47,470

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24, Part 26, 

Summary: After an intense argument and a forced-to-share-the-bed situation during their junior year decathlon trip, Peter and the Reader examine their faults and failings. As they attempt to fix their mistakes and improve their friendship, that friendship quickly begins to evolve into something else. 

Slow burn fic in which all characters are included and their dynamics explored; multiple character POVs. 

Betas: @girl-tips-from-satan and @fanboyswhereare-you

Without further ado,

Then Again Part 25:

(Words: 3,948)

“It’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

The thought of Peter making more of an effort, of him consciously choosing to pay me closer attention with the active intention of improving our friendship-- it isn’t the worst idea. If anything, it’s a rather attractive solution to a nonexistent problem. The suggestion alone is already prompting imaginary scenarios I refuse to acknowledge right now; though, inevitably, they’ll become daydream fuel within a couple days. Still, the whole plan is unnecessary, and I know it. I’m not angry with him anymore. I may have a few questions (some I plan on asking, some I’ll keep to myself), but if I do have any hidden resentment for his behavior stowed away in my subconscious, it’s as small and inconsequential as a handful of sand in the sea. Allowing him to carry this plan out would be using him. The pretenses would be false. 

Even apart from that, though, his texts gave off an odd, metallic aftertaste. The proposal reads mechanically-- it’s a scientific study with a simple hypothesis (and a reluctant dependent variable). It’s the idea of being a lab mouse, I think, that earns it the title the dumbest thing in my mind. It’s condescending. Even if tempting. 

Then again, I know Peter. I understand he doesn’t actually view me as a test subject to analyze and discard after the results come in. We’re friends. He feels bad and tossed out a poorly worded solution because he thinks I’m secretly pissed at him. It’s only an idea he offered, one I have full power to reject. 

Maybe I’m trying to dismiss it quickly because, if I’m being honest, I’m selfish. Selfishly, I want to say yes despite knowing the sort of negative message it would send to Peter. A small part of me is willing to let him feel worse so I can pretend his own guilty feelings are more significant than they really are. The possibility, the mirage just within reach, of balancing that tightrope between reality and fantasy with him is... alluring, to say the least.

And impossible. It would be wrong. Wouldn’t it? Of course it would be.

Like blades slicing fruit in a blender, my brain whips through these thoughts within seconds. Across on her bed, Michelle’s expression can only be described as disapproving or faintly disgusted as she too digests Peter’s idea. It’s the male stupidity is endless look we share when near particularly annoying men in public. It’s not often one we have to exchange in reference to the boys; their moronic moments tend to be entertaining rather than obnoxious, ignorant, or misogynistic.

She meets my eyes, and I wonder if my face gives anything away. 

“That feels weird to me.” 

The sentence is a verbal tiptoe forward, an almost-question probe.

“It did sound weird saying it out loud,” I agree. 

“You know,” she says, her tone mildly serious as she sits up straighter. “You’re not obligated to say yes to everything because you don’t want to disappoint someone. Especially a boy. And especially if he’s trying to fix his dumb mistakes by pressuring you into something you’re not comfortable with.” She pauses, glancing at the ceiling and raising an eyebrow. “If you want, I can make him come to his senses.”

Michelle tightens her fists and mimes three exaggerated punches. I imagine it, amused: Before the bite, Peter wouldn’t have stood a chance against her if she really meant it; now, he’d probably put his arms up to block her blows, minimally annoyed, and wait for her to tire herself out. I roll my eyes and can’t help mirroring her smile. 

Nevertheless, her wording is…. 

The same question pops up for the millionth time. 

Do I want her to know?

“It’s Peter, it’s not, like, ‘a boy,’” I say first, air quoting the last words. Maybe later, depending. But for now, I’ll avoid it. “And I’ll pass, but I appreciate the offer. I’m not uncomfortable and he isn’t being pushy or anything. I only meant that the…” nearly impersonal approach to our personal relationship? “the hyperconscious wording is weird. I wouldn’t turn down free snacks if the offer wasn’t described as a….” situation in which he views us as mere associates or abstract friends--

Again, I remind myself he probably doesn’t see it that way. 

“Monitored social experiment with unequal power dynamics?” she offers.

That fits.

“Precisely.” 

She snorts. Shaking her head, Michelle pauses for a few more seconds. Mentally chewing it all over again, her expression bounces from annoyance to curiosity to neutrality to annoyance again to what looks surprisingly close to compromise or understanding. In the meantime, I focus on watching her facial journey and not thinking. 

In the tune of surrender, she sighs before she speaks.

“I’m sure he’s trying his best,” she says reluctantly, her hands opening outward like a shrug, “his best is just bad. If it were anyone else, I’d tell you to refuse and block them. But, as much as it pains me to admit, I think we both know him too well to think his motives are as stupid as his phrasing. If anything, he’s probably excited about his ‘new genius friendship plan.’”

Nodding, relief hums under my skin: I know she’s right. I mean, how many people would fight crime to protect countless strangers in their city, then turn around and have cold, detached views of their chosen, personal friends? 

“That’s true,” I say. “I should probably text him back, then.”

She holds up a finger as I reach for my phone.

“Still,” she adds with a tone of subtle authority, “it’s up to you. I’m not saying you should say yes -- no obligations, remember? -- I just don’t think you need to worry that he isn’t trying or isn’t being genuine. That’s all.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Michelle’s stare lasts a moment longer, her sincerity as visible and certain as the brown of her eyes. After a second or two, she sits back onto her pillows and relaxes, turning to face the t.v. once again, leaving me to work out my final decision on my own. As I allow myself to reiterate my own arguments in my head, the Cullen family discusses the mythology of half human, half vampire fetuses with Jacob. 

It doesn’t take me long to reach a conclusion. Maybe it’s because I’m pretty tired, but the answer seems obvious, straightforward and simple in logic. I unlock my phone with the feeling Michelle knows exactly what I’m about to type. I begin to write the message I had settled on before: “I’ll think about it.” Simple and honest. And temporary.

But then something else pops into my brain, and, foolishly, I write that instead.

“What about you? Do you need new reasons to be around me?”

I send the text without a moment’s reflection. Rereading it, it sounds a little… coded, to say the least. Like a Freudian slip. Don’t overthink it. God, I hate Freud. But it does sound desperate. And awkward. Damn. It definitely does. It reminds me of the embarrassing things I used to post on social media in middle school, which I really shouldn’t think about either. 

I only wondered if the idea should go both ways. Instead, the message sounds insecure... which I am, I suppose, but he doesn’t need to know that.

Bubbles appear on his side. I resist the urge to send a series of backpedaling messages. They disappear. Again. My self control dissipates and I quickly send the original one: I’ll think about it.

Unthinking, I pull the small keychain out of my pocket as I wait for his reply and massage the edge. Sticking the pointed corner into my thumbpad, I accidentally dig it in harder than intended. And I realize something. 

The keychain was the first. The gifts or incentives or things. 

A flat click of a nearby door closing snaps my attention. The boys’ room? Glancing up, I see flash of Edward pleading with Jacob on the t.v. screen, and to my left, a shadow stepping up to the door. A gap in the golden line of outside light.

For half a minute, nothing happens. Aside from Rosalie shouldering past Jacob as he walks in to speak to Bella. After that, when it does come, the sound is soft.

Knock. Knock knock knock knock, knock knock.

It’s Peter. Ned’s knocking pattern is shorter.

The sound jolts my heart rate a smidge, like a phantom defibrillator.

Michelle’s head rolls to one side to stare at the hallway, her shoulders slumped in an I’m giving up posture. 

“That’s very obviously for you,” she says, pushing herself up and tossing the Twizzler bag on the nightstand, “so I’ll let you go deal with it. I think I’ll brush my teeth and get ready for bed.” She hops off the mattress, raises her arms, and stretches them from side to side. “You okay if we call it a night?”

“More than okay,” I say, standing up as well, the carpet cool under my toes. Once I speak to Peter, I’ll need to knock out. Otherwise my brain will spiral. And maybe, if all goes well, my dreams tonight will be better than staying up to snicker at this hilariously shitty movie. “But what if it is for you?” 

She rolls her eyes.

“Tell them I’m gone. Missing, dead, whatever.” Michelle clamps her eyes shut and sticks her tongue out to mimic cartoonish death. Then she pops back to life with a fake warning glare. “So long as no one bothers me.”

She hits the off button on the remote, Jacob and Bella dissolving into nothing, and as she trudges to the bathroom, I slip the keychain and a keycard back into my pocket before copying her arm stretch to calm my buzzing nerves. Michelle salutes me before turning and closing the bathroom door. I walk to the hallway’s. The handle is cold to the touch.

I swing it open. As expected: Peter. The empty space surrounding him is relatively quiet, only muffled laughter and television sounds coming from rooms at the opposite end. The air smells like linens, cleaning supplies, and artificial lavender. This too is as expected: the typical, sanitary comfort of staying in a nice hotel at night. I tell myself it’s a calming environment. 

Peter’s in his usual pajamas, an old beat up t-shirt and sweatpants, standing slightly to the left, hands clasped in front of him. His height drops a tiny bit at the sound of the door, like he was rocking from heel to toe a second ago, and as his eyes lift from the floor to meet mine, he smiles. A warm swooping sensation envelops my stomach. 

“Hey! You answered.” 

He almost sounds surprised. I make a face in response. 

“You thought I wouldn’t?”

I mean this as a joke, a reference to the couple late nights he’s shown up at my door (window, really) to clean or patch himself up before going home. As he knows, I’m not in the habit of shutting him out. 

Still, his head tilts and his eyebrows go up into an expression of, Well, you weren’t exactly answering me before. It isn’t a challenging or upset look. If anything, it’s almost flustered.

“Fair enough,” I concede, lukewarm guilt sticking in my throat. “I was thinking about it though, I promise, I just hadn’t decided for sure yet.”

He nods, fidgeting with his fingernails and momentarily glancing at the floor.

“Yeah, I get that,” he says, looking back up. His ears redden. “I, uh, phrased it pretty moronically. Or at least that’s what Ned said.” 

He takes a step or two back, closer to his door. It seems like an invitation to make the conversation more private, so I close mine and Michelle’s and step forward.

“All I meant,” he continues, his hands rolling over one another in gesture, “was that I thought it might be helpful if I did a few nice things for you when we get back. Not like I’m actually trying to condition you, like a, like a--”

“Dog?”

His hands halt and his face pinches into an expression that practically reads I am painfully aware of every mistake I have ever made and how the number continues to grow in marker across his forehead. His eyes retain a lightness though, the sort that suggests he’s able to laugh about it. He runs his right hand through his hair. Mine twinges.

“Exactly. I feel like that makes it seem kind of, um--”

“Bad?”

“Very bad,” he confirms, nodding. He takes a deeper breath, half smiling in an embarrassed, self pitying way. “I honestly forgot about that Pavlock stuff, I was just trying to use psych terms to make it sound more persuasive and, um, I don’t know, impressive?”

He shrugs and offers an I know I’m an idiot, but thank you for being patient smile. I bite my tongue against correcting Pavlov, which he seems incapable of pronouncing properly. Even when we studied for that exam, he only said it properly a handful of times, despite Michelle flicking bits of paper at him each time he said Pavlock.

I smile too, noting the irony. And I think of what she said: he’s trying his best, his best is just bad. It doesn’t seem so bad when he’s standing in front of me, though. If anything, it’s easy. 

“You mean,” I begin to ask, more to tease than to clarify, “as opposed to the highly offensive and disagreeable, ‘Hey, I want to make up for being a jerk, so I’m going to stash some snacks for you in my locker’?”

He bites his lip as if it’ll keep his grin pinned down, though it doesn’t really. A blush spreads across his cheekbones and for a split second, he looks away to the other end of the hall. When he looks back, his smile falters, just a little. The vulnerability reminds me of his apology last night, when he thought I was sleeping. 

“I was thinking maybe it’d be more than snacks?” he offers. “Like, I don’t know, I don’t really have it figured out yet, but hanging out a bit more? Movie nights or that sort of thing? Or if you have a lot of homework, we could study together and help each other stay focused?”

That last suggestion seems like an oxymoron. Study together to keep ourselves on track? It’s a laughable concept. Well, only if it’s--

“Just us?”

Peter freezes, his shoulders straightening slightly, his height rising a few millimeters. 

That is the central question, though. Whether it’s a positive or negative point toward my decision, I can’t tell. All the same, it’s been ages since we last tried studying together, just the two of us. It works best with Michelle and Ned there as well, seeing as we tend to get distracted. 

His eyes move quickly between mine as if he’s trying to read my thoughts before answering. He squints.

“Is that okay?” he asks, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. “I understand if not, if it’s uncomfortable or--”

I shake my head, putting my hand on his arm to stop him, only realizing it when his eyes flicker to that hand.

“Of course not,” I say, removing it. “I mean, of course it’s okay. We’ve hung out without Ned and MJ tons of times before. It’s been a while but it’s no big deal. That’d be fine.”

“Okay, good!” he says, the tension in his body evaporating. “That’s great!” 

His eyes have lit up. I imagine he’s relieved those two won’t be around the whole time to make fun of his movie choices or whatever he has planned. I try to hold a smile to reassure him and clear his doubts while internally pinching myself to remember to not think too much on this. There’s no need to dust off those old, useless daydreams of movie nights and falling asleep on his shoulder with his head atop mine and May lightly laying a blanket across us and all the rest. Absolutely no need. Shut it down.

He runs a hand through his hair, nodding in a way that’s usually accompanied by him saying cool, cool, cool, cool.

“Would Fridays be good for movie nights?”

I barely register the question before I answer it.

“Probably, sure. That should be alright.”

His smile widens and he shakes his head once and continues nodding. 

“Perfect! We can have it at my place.”

I nod back, chest tightening as I process. At the same time, I beg my brain not to process. Just for a minute. But then, since I refuse to let them move forward, the gears in my head turn backward, thoughts reeling like a bicycle chain. Judging by the look on Peter’s face, we’re realizing the same thing:

“Wait,” he says carefully. “So you’re saying yes? Like, you’re cool with it? You want to try?”

God help me.

“I suppose so,” I say. At hearing my own answer, a different type of swooping feeling runs from my feet up. The looking over a high balcony type.

“And we’ll figure the rest out later?” he asks.

“Peter, really, if you’re still planning on the locker snacks, that’s more than enough.”

He laughs.

“Yeah, that’s what you think because you’re being lame. And limiting. And--”

“Leaving?”

It’s time, definitely. I’d forgotten how blinding Peter’s excitement and positivity can be without interference. Today has been full enough, I should end this now. 

“That’s fair,” he says. “I think Ned rubbed off on me. All that obnoxious energy.”

He shakes his whole body as if ridding himself of said energy and I restrain myself from making a joke about his word choice. Instead, I nod and with an exasperated “Night, Peter,” and step back toward my room. He does the same, heading toward his. Just before he makes to use his keycard, he pivots back. 

“Wait! I almost forgot.”

I turn around and he’s closer than before. Peter suddenly looks particularly nervous, his head angled to the side like a question, his hands fumbling over themselves. His cheeks are reddening again too, spreading from his cheeks to his hairline.

“Yeah?”

He steps forward to place himself directly in front of me. His eyes flit a quick path which his hands follow-- they reach out to touch my elbows before jumping up to my shoulders, settling there almost steadily before shooting a little higher to suddenly but gently hold my head. And then he leans over and firmly kisses my forehead. As he pulls away, one hand disappears and the other musses up my hair.

What is he--? 

We both take a tiny step back. My pulse pounds as my thoughts blur into nothing but impressions of nonsensical, ridiculous questions my brain won’t dignify with clarity. Peter’s expression is halfway between an apology and.. a dare? His eyes are as wide as I know mine must be, but there’s something playing at his lips. For a second, it feels as though we’re balanced on a challenge neither of us is willing to answer. 

The bubble of the moment pops as he shakes his head and gestures vaguely to his and Ned’s room, his floundering arm movements returning him to the strong appearance of embarrassment.

“May,” he blurts, “Aunt May threatened to, uh, um, well, that part’s not really important, if I didn’t pass that along with ‘all her love.’” The red in his face deepens. “Apparently she’s not too happy I didn’t do that last night too.”

Of course. It makes immediate sense. The memory rushes back. She told him to do that to all of us when she dropped us off at the bus that morning. I might laugh at my own stupid shock and poor memory but I can’t seem to manage it. 

“Do you want me to get MJ too?” I ask, realizing May likely demanded that he make the rounds. Maybe this is what started that play fight between him and Ned tonight. Either Ned dodged it or made a joke about wishing May were there to do it herself. 

It clicks together.

“What?” He looks lost, his head tilted to the side, brow knotted up. “What do you mean?”

“Unless, do you want me to pass it along from May?”

The realization hits across his face. He shakes his head rapidly.

“No, no, no, she’d probably kill me if I tried to do that to her. But, I mean, if you want to pass it along-- or just tell her to lie if May asks. She probably won’t, honestly, but, you know, just in case.”

His shrug and half smile are practically helpless. May ought to have more mercy on him. And me. 

“Alright.” A grin breaks over my face in a way I don’t quite understand and can’t stop. “I’ll see you in the morning then.”

“Right. Goodnight, then. See you in the morning.”

“Night, Peter.”

Rather than stepping back, as intended though, I rush forward. Involuntarily, or at least I’ll pretend, since it’s just as surprising to me as it is to him, I lean forward and kiss his cheek. Or try to. It happens too quickly to register fully, but I’m almost positive I knick the corner of his mouth? That would definitely be unintentional.

“ThatwasforMay,” I explain, stumbling backward. Seeming to sense it, Peter grabs my arm to steady me before I trip outright. He releases his grip and stares, stunned. 

If I thought his eyes were wide earlier, it turns out they can open much wider. His pupils are comically blown open. 

“What?” he asks, seeming concerned. “What was that? I, uh, I didn’t catch what you said.”

“That was, um, that was for May. You know, in exchange.”

That’s perfect. For the first time in a while, my brain saves me.

His face, though still flushed red, relaxes.

“You’ll see her tomorrow,” he points out. “Like, we’ll all see her at the same time. It’d be kind of pointless to pass that on, wouldn’t it?”

Shit. My brain is useless.

“Then, uh… keep it?”

His facial muscles twitch as if he’s glitching between a smile and bewilderment. Then a flint of mischief.

“Unless,” he says slowly, “you want me to pass it along to Ned?”

“And it’s official,” I say, resisting the urge to smack him. “Goodnight!”

He grins as near as he ever gets to a smirk (a term I associate too closely to ass-hattery to assign to him) and I turn to my room as he repeats it back.

We both step to our doors and open them. I glance back just in time to see him practically jump into his room with a speed that reminds me he’s a superhero, even if he’s an idiot. Filled with tangled emotions, I pause, listening or waiting or catching my breath. I only need a moment.

Behind his and Ned’s door, there’s a sudden crash, a sound like leaping bedsprings and something smashing, immediately followed by Peter groaning and Ned’s mocking laughter. Right before I go to my own room, I hear Peter’s exasperated voice: Shit! Dude, can you help me fix it? 

The room is dark when I slip back inside but the alarm clock shines enough red to see vague outlines of the walls and dressers and beds. Legs slightly numb, I stumble my way to the small bathroom to get ready for bed. It only takes a couple minutes, distracted as I am. 

I slip into the blankets of my bed. The warm body heat next to me can only mean one thing: Michelle.

It’s just one of those unspoken things. 

Next update: God only knows.

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[ftchai]

——   ⋆   𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐄  ╯ task 002.

Basic Character Questions

First name? charlie

Last names? song

Middle names? haru

Nicknames? chai

Date of birth? february / 27 

Age? 20

Physical / Appearance

Height? 5′3

Build? skinny, lean

Hair colour? varies constantly. currently, dark brown with the front pieces bleached.

Hair style? length wise, it can cover her chest, naturally straight but usually a little messy.

Eye colour? brown.

Glasses or contact lenses? just reading glasses.

Scars or birthmarks? many small scars on her knees, elbows, a big one on her left shin, mostly from when she once thought she could roller derby, and skateboarding incidents.

Tattoos? has a dragon tattoo that covers most of her left thigh, other random stick and pokes that cover her arms, most are film references and quotes, but also a couple murakami flowers, butterflies, a dead smiley face.

Physical or mental handicaps? she’s medicated for her anxiety.

Type of clothes? baggy band tees, mom jeans with rips in them, old ugly cardigans she somehow pulls off. will occasionally wear tight fitting crop tops, pleated skirts, .

Race / Ethnicity? asian, south korean

Mannerisms? very facially expressive, doesn’t talk with her hands much. mostly with her eyes. widening her eyes and rolling her eyes are usually her responses to most situations.

Personality

What words or phrases do they overuse? ”yeah” for everything. “man”, “damn”.

Do they have a catchphrase? not really. just quotes movies a lot.

Are they more optimistic or pessimistic? depends on the situation. if it concerns others, she’s optimistic, but if it’s a personal matter regarding herself, pessimistic.

Are they introverted or extroverted? introverted.

Do they ever put on airs? never, it’s quite the contrary, actually. puts herself down frequently.

What bad habits do they have? smoking a pack a day, second-guessing herself, sometimes might fall into an old habit of biting her nails.

What makes them laugh out loud? compilations of old vines, cat videos, her friends.

How do they display affection? once comfortable around someone, chai is actually pretty grabby. hugging, hand holding, listening, giving advice, dropping everything for someone. very loyal.

How do they want to be seen by others? i think she just wants to be seen, period. she feels pretty invisible, mostly.

How do they see themselves? as less than they are. she is her worst critic, wish she could realize she’s actually special.

Strongest character trait? perseverance and adaptability.

Weakest character trait? insecure and escapist.

How competitive are they? strangely, not at all. used to be happy to get participation awards.

Do they make snap judgements or take time to consider? a chronic overthinker, so definitely takes time to consider.

How do they react to praise? might not believe 100%, but appreciates it 100%.

How do they react to criticism? if it’s constructive, she’ll accept it when it comes to her music because she’s constantly trying to be better, so she’ll even go out of her way to ask people. when it comes to her life or the way she is, whether her stubbornness or self destructive tendencies, she just blocks it out.

What is their greatest fear? being forgotten. of course she dreams of making it big, but just living in some people’s memories would be enough for her.

What are their biggest secrets? doesn’t have many secrets. maybe that she cares

When was the last time they cried? probably days ago. she gets overwhelmed by her emotions easily, and also likes watching movies to cry at them, so there’s that.

What haunts them? how since her dad left, people have made it a habit to do the same too.

What will they stand up for? she’s an introvert but won’t stand for injustice. having been bullied herself, she’ll stick up for anyone she witnesses being mistreated. also, believes people should be able to live their lives however they want, without people judging them for it.

Are they indoorsy or outdoorsy? both. loves hanging out in her room, but also loves going to the beach, the lake, skateboard around town.

What is their sinful little habit? drugs. will take just about anything.

What quality do they most value in a friend? loyalty.

What do they consider an overrated virtue? probably temperance, moderation in general.

If they could change one thing about themselves, what would it be? she’s stupid so she’d say something like ‘being talented.’

What is their obsession? music, movies, comics.

What are their pet peeves? mansplaining. when guys try to outsmart her when it comes to comics or musical knowledge, and purposefully quiz her with things not even they really know, as if she has something to prove. 

Friends and Family

Is their family big or small? Who does it consist of? small, separated between south sk and the usa. over here she has her mother, stepdad, aunt, uncle, and her 2 brothers.

What is their perception of family? she loves them, only moved out so soon because she wanted to do things her own way.

Do they have siblings? Older or younger? chai is the middle child, one younger and one older brother.

Describe their best friend. just her perfect fit. affectionate, calm, understanding and patient. someone chai can be herself around and expect 0 judgement. she throughly enjoys being with luna and she feels like luna brings out the best in her. @lunaolsson 

Ideal best friend? ^^^

Do they have any pets? not yet. she can’t make up her mind between a ferret, a snake, or a kitten.

Past and Future

What was your character like as a baby? As a child? the kind of child that really lives in her own world. quiet, always watching her surroundings and the people around her, very calm. pretty much always with a coloring book in her hands, too. also her mom has too many videos of her singing into a hairbrush in their living room.

Did they grow up rich or poor? although she doesn’t remember much, she lived comfortably while her parents were together. once they got divorced however, her father stripped her mom of everything, despite the fact she had full custody of chai and her older brother. they struggled, but chai’s mom made sure there was always well fed and dressed. when her stepdad got into the picture, things became easier.

Did they grow up nurtured or neglected? nurtured by her mother, and eventually her stepfather, but neglected by her dad. he used to call on her birthdays but hasn’t done that ever since she turned 14.

What is their greatest achievement? finishing high school. that was hell for her.

What was their first kiss like? sloppy, drunk and not worth remembering.

What is the worst thing they did to someone they loved? has pushed away anyone with the slight romantic interest towards her, she doesn’t know how to handle it.

What are their ambitions? getting signed by a record label, buying her mom a house, getting out of crawford.

What advice would they give their younger self? “ it’s okay if people leave, you’ll always have yourself. ”

What smells remind them of their childhood? jjajangmyeon noodles, kimchi stew, pretty much anything her mother cooked for her. also, the smell of old books.

What was their childhood ambition? she wanted to be a vet, until she realized she actually needs to go to school for that.

What is their best childhood memory? the few memories she has of south korea, and when her mom saved up to take her and her siblings to disneyland for the day.

What is their worst childhood memory? when her dad left and they had to come to the usa as quickly as possible.

Did they have an imaginary childhood friend? probably too many. she’s always been shy and has talks to herself way too much.

When was the last time they were crushed with disappointment? probably when cain shut her out.

What past act are they most ashamed of? all those nights she got passed out drunk as a teenager, waking up somewhere and not knowing how she got there. probably not too much because she’ll still do it

What past act are they most proud of? getting it together and keeping a job for once! also releasing an ep on spotify.

Love 

Do they believe in love at first sight? yes and no. 

Are they in a relationship? nope

How do they behave in a relationship? really chill, probably too chill because she’s been cheated on too many times. anyway, she really values the person and puts them on a pedestal, does everything for them and during the relationship they’re the topic of 80% of her songs, when they break up it’s 100%

When did you character last have sex? probably last week, some one night stand tinder date

Has your character ever been in love? she thinks so

Have they ever had their heart broken? every. single. time

Conflict

How do they respond to a threat? leaves

Are they most likely to fight with their fists or their tongue? neither. no fights. she hates confrontation.

If your character could only save one thing from their burning house, what would it be? the electric yamaha guitar she spent 2 paychecks on.

What do they love to hate? g

What are their phobias? teenage mutant ninja turtles. they disgust her.

What living person do they most despise? probably adam sandler because of all the terrible movies he’s made.

Have they ever been bullied or teased? yes.

Where do they go when they’re angry? scream into her pillow, turn the volume on her amp all the way up and angry jam, gets high and goes skateboarding to clear her mind. 

Work, Education and Hobbies

What is their current job? officially, she works the concession stand at the crawford theatre. in reality, she does anything they need her to do.

What do they think about their current job? it’s hard work sometimes, but for once she feels useful so she enjoys it. movies are her favorite thing.

What are some of their past jobs? there’s a whole list, the ones that lasted more than two weeks were supermarket cashier, dog walking, and babysitting. 

What are their hobbies? singing, playing guitar, skating, skateboarding, songwriting, reading. 

Educational background? has a high school diploma.

Do they have a natural talent for something? music, both playing instruments and songwriting

Do they play a sport? Are they any good? nope.

What is their socioeconomic status? not really lower middle class, she’s struggling that last week before she gets her next paycheck, but if she’s organized she’s okay.

Favourites

What is their favourite animal? red panda or siberian tiger.

What place would they most like to visit? south korea, japan, london, paris.

What is the most beautiful thing they’ve ever seen? when her little baby brother would dance around the piano when she finally learned how to play.

What is their favourite song? she’ll never make up her mind, so she’ll unironically say something by avril lavigne.

Music, art, reading preferred? all of the above.

What is their favourite color? green.

Favourite food: tuna sashimi. 

What is their favourite day of the week? saturday.

Possessions

What is in their fridge: rice, kimchi, and redbulls

What is on their bedside table? whatever book or comic she’s reading, her glasses, a candle, songwriting book.

What is in their car? blankets in case she needs to crash right there and then, an old pair of sneakers, aux cord, a protein bar.

What is in their purse or wallet? drivers license, whatever change she has, credit card, baby photos of herself and her friends, notes she’s been given.

What is in their pockets? usually her phone.

What is their most treasured possession? that baby blue yamaha guitar.

Spirituality

Who or what is your character’s guardian angel? chai has never had a family member pass away. so maybe her mother, she’s always looking out for her.

Do they believe in the afterlife? unsure.

What are their religious views? likes to believe there’s something out there, but she’s an atheist.

What do they think heaven is? where all her favorite rockstars are waiting for her.

What do they think hell is? working retail / customer service.

Are they superstitious? believes in ghosts, but other than that, not really.

What would they like to be reincarnated as? a cat. head empty, no thoughts, just sleep.

How would they like to die? somehow painless.

What is your character’s spirit animal? i’d say a fennec fox. small, looks cute but will bite and run away.

What is their zodiac sign? pisces.

Values

What do they think is the worst thing that can be done to a person? betray them.

When did they last lie? rarely lies, if she has to, it’s probably just a little white lie.

What’s their view of lying? on one hand, she knows it’s wrong, but in the other, she’d rather be lied to than have to face the truth.

When did they last make a promise? doesn’t make promises often, must have been something important.

Did they keep or break their last promise? always does, wouldnt really make a promise if she wasn’t sure she could follow through.

Daily life

What are their eating habits? it really is mostly ramen and asian convenience store food. when she misses hearty meals, she’ll drive to her mom’s house.

Do they have any allergies? none.

Describe their home. shares her house with roommates, never leaves anything untidy and always cleans up for herself / does her chores when its her turn. her room is super cluttered, but somehow it’s not messy nor overwhelming. there’s film posters covering the entirety of the walls.

Are they minimalist or a clutter hoarder? clutter hoarder.

What do they do first thing on a weekday morning? shower, then eat.

What do they do on a Sunday afternoon? goes to her mom’s house for dinner, skateboards until the sun sets.

What do they do on a Friday night? goes out always.

What is the soft drink of choice? coke.

What is their alcoholic drink of choice? black vodka shots.

Miscellaneous

Who is their hero? stevie nicks.

What or who would your character dress up as for Halloween? anime schoolgirl in a zombie movie.

If they could save one person, who would it be? probably jack on titanic.

If they could call one person for help, who would it be? luna !!

What is their greatest extravagance? music equipment.

What is their greatest regret? things she leaves unsaid, not watching infinity war at the theatre for the forth time.

What would they do if they won the lottery? buy her mom a mansion, move out to LA to get a record deal, travel the world.

Do they believe in happy endings? for some people, yes.

What is their idea of perfect happiness? having fans at her concert knowing every lyric of every one of her songs.

What would they ask a fortune teller? should she go into film making instead?

If your character could travel through time, where would they go? 70s !

If they could have a superpower, what would they choose? talking to animals

[petersmparker]

Clutch pt 4 (Peter Parker x Reader)

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Following Mr. Stark's advice, Peter decides to take a chance on the friendship he wants so badly.

Word Count: 1432

A/N: I finally got out of the fuckin wifi-less woods only to have my laptop shit itself so if there are any ugly errors in this bc of the fact that I had to use my phone pls forgive. don’t forget to let me know if you wanna be added to my tag list!!

INTRO PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 PART 4 PART 5 PART 6 PART 7

You're still staring up at him from the ground of the alleyway when Peter shoves his phone back into the pocket in the waistline of his suit. The expression on your face has gone from shocked anger to vaguely-amused surprise. People glance curiously around you from the main sidewalk as you wave the bottle above your head teasingly, in one hand, the other holding a brown paper bag. When he finally untraps himself and manages to pull together his nerve, Peter jumps down from the fire escape. The movement is followed with your eyes, and when his feet hit the concrete, you take a step forward. You hand him the now-empty bottle. 

Peter rubs the back of his head uncomfortably as he takes the container from you. Your shoes and pant legs are wet from the impact. With the cooler fall weather, he imagines that the feeling of wet denim isn’t pleasant. You follow his gaze to your feet and attempt to tap the water off of your sneakers. When you look back up to his face, he realizes that it’s been an absurd amount of time for him not to have apologized yet.

“I’m kind of the biggest moron, huh,” he says in lieu of an apology, astounded by himself.

You let out a surprised laugh. Peter's heart leaps in his chest.

“If we were rating morons based on clumsiness, I don’t think the web-swinging, wall-running, urban-parkouring superhero Spider-Man could be classified as the biggest.”

“I beg to differ,” Peter responds, throwing the bottle into the nearest dumpster, “You don’t have to live with him.”

“Fair point,” you  agree, “but it’s not like I’ve been given the opportunity.”

The way you smile throws a wrench in his heart’s ability to function. He’s quick to try to dismiss the look, knowing that he’s probably overthinking your lighthearted comment. Part of him worries that he overthinks everything you say.

You look curiously up to the fire escape where he’d been sitting. Gesturing up to it, you ask, “What were you doing up there before you decided to throw trash at me?”

He elects to disregard your phrasing to save himself from having to acknowledge just how embarrassed he still is. “I was taking a break to have a snack.”

“And the whispering?”

“That was Mr. Stark,” he says before nervously adding, “Did you hear me?”

“Nope. No worries. When you say Mr. Stark-”

“Yeah. I mean that one.”

Your eyebrows rise. It occurs to him that most people aren’t aware of Spider-Man’s connection to the world-famous Iron Man. His growing popularity came purely from his daily crime-fighting and well-doing. After all, Peter had managed to escape the events of the snap without too much attention drawn to him by the media. He’s sure that most don’t even know he was involved in the fight to begin with, despite the fact that, technically speaking, he’s an Avenger. One that operates separate from the group, but still no less. In spite of his desire to become a big name in superheroing like his idol, he was comfortable with the anonymity this afforded him. It allowed him the possibility of a few more years of normalcy outside of being Spider-Man.

You nod approvingly. “That makes sense. You’re an impressive guy. If Iron Man didn’t have you in his ring, that’d just be questionable.”

It kind of feels like the wind has just been knocked out of him. Peter knows that you can’t see his pleased smile, so he attempts to make up for it with his tone when he says, “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Of course.” You stick your hand into the bag to grab yourself a french fry, before offering him the bag.

He glances at the surroundings, considering. While you were receiving a few curious looks here and there, Peter prides himself on being the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, and it isn’t out of the ordinary to see him stopping to converse with civilians. However, that doesn’t mean it would be smart to lift his mask to eat with an audience on every side. It would be a dumb risk. Realistically, it hadn’t been the best decision to have done it previously around you, even, but. . .

It was too late to go back on that crush-influenced decision. He might as well take advantage of it now.

Peter nods his acceptance of the offer, but when you hold out the bag further, he gives a quick nod upward. “Not here,” he explains, quietly, “Take the fire escape to the roof. I’ll meet you up there.”

He takes an indirect route to swing his way up so as not to arouse any possible suspicion. Because of this, you make it to the roof before he does, and by the time he arrives you've taken a seat on the air conditioning venting. You pull your feet up to sit with your legs crossed, and set out two containers of fries on a couple of napkins. Peter takes a seat next to you, but straddles the vent so he can face you. He laughs when you greet him with a teasing, “Took you long enough.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he sighs, taking off his glove and lifting his mask over his mouth so he can eat a fry. “You just happened to have two orders of fries?”

The reddening of your face is so pretty that Peter's breath catches. You push your hair behind your ear with your free hand. “I see you around a lot more now, don’t I? So, I kind of figured that it can’t hurt to be prepared in case you make an appearance. And hey, if you don’t show up, I can just give them away. Or eat them.”

Peter grins. “Looks like I need to start contributing to the snack fund, then.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you assure, rotating yourself to face him. “I’m happy to have the company, especially just for the cost of a dollar menu fry.”

His smile softens as a bit of concern builds in him. Tentatively, he asks, “You know I don’t just talk to you because you give me things, right?”

“I hadn’t been too concerned about it. It’s nice to hear confirmation though. Either way, I guess it’s just cool to have someone around. Thank you.”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course. I really like having you around, too.”

The stare you settle Peter with is simultaneously comforting and unsettling. While your gaze is decidedly soft, his skin begins to heat and tingle. Though he knows you cannot conceivably see his eyes through the mask, he finds himself feeling like you're staring past his eyes and into his thoughts. I like you, he thinks, on the off chance that you're doing the impossible, I like you so much.

His thought goes without response, as expected. However, the absence of it isn’t felt too strongly. Peter is happy to dwell upon the pleasantness of your meeting as you share the snack and exchange jokes and stories. Long after the fries have been eaten and the trash crumbled into a ball, you stay. When the space between them is cleared, Peter takes the opportunity to casually scoot ever-so-slightly closer. Maybe he imagines it, but he thinks that perhaps you do the same thing.

When the sun starts to set, the orangey glow illuminates your hair with gold and accentuates the sparkle of your eyes. He had left his mask up to allow you to see part of his expressions, but when you finally state that it's time for you to go, he pulls it down over his mouth. You doesn’t pause in her speech as you reach over to smooth down a wrinkled portion of the mask.

For a long moment, your hand settles against his Peter's jaw. He stares, dumbfounded, at your affectionate expression until you excuse yourself and start to climb down the fire escape. Your goodbye echoes around him, covering the sound of his own within his mind, and he sits on the vents for several minutes in a stupor as he thinks about the feeling of your palm against his face.

It's nearly the perfect end to the day. Peter's first time seeking your friendship without humoring his guilt, and he gets to go home with the feeling of your hand still burning into his jaw. What more could he have asked for?

The sound of gunshots cut through Peter's euphoria and shake him back into reality. He jumps from his spot, his heightened senses alerting him to the direction of the crisis, and gets back to work.

Tag list

@undiadeestos @moonstruckholland​ @deathofthethrones​ @souvenirsvisuels​ @legendarydazekitten

[marshmallow-phd]

Memories Past

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Supernatural, Wolf Au

Pairing: Kris x Reader

Summary: The last thing Kris wanted was to move on. He was perfectly content wallowing in his misery while pretending everything was okay. But when you come walking into his shop with a broken down car, he realizes the thing he’d been avoiding the most just might be the cure he always needed. He just couldn’t believe that it’d been you all along. Kris had been your best friend when you were kids before he’d moved away without a word of goodbye. Now nearly fifteen years later, you run into him again by pure coincidence. The memories come rushing back to you, stirring something inside. A childhood crush shouldn’t upend your picture perfect life, but sometimes, destiny has other things in mind…

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

**

You should have been more elated about tonight. You should have been grinning from ear to ear, planning your outfit down to the last detail. And you were happy about tonight. You were excited to spend some real one-on-one time with Huan. Just not at the level you should have been.

For the first time in a long time, you were going on a date with your fiance. That was too strange a notion. Going on a date with your fiance. But something happened when you got engaged and made this move together. It was almost like the honeymoon phase was skipped over completely and the two of you had already settled into the “old married couple” phase where the two of you went along with your own separate schedules and just met at the end of the day to have dinner and go to bed.

Tonight, though, would mix up that same boring routine. Huan was getting out of work early and taking you to a nice restaurant that was way too expensive per plate. But you’d let that slide for the quality time. You kept repeating that to yourself to get you more excited. It worked. A little.

As soon as class was over, you ran to the parking lot, determined to beat Huan home and be mostly ready by the time he got there. With his job, he’d already be dressed up, not needing to change before heading out.

You spent a good ten minutes just staring at the high-end part of your closet; the section that held the fancier articles of clothing that you owned. They weren’t used often, but at least they were there.

Finally settling on a dress that stopped mid-thigh on you and pairing it with a pair of heels that were actually comfortable, you headed to the next step of preparation. You were just putting on the finishing touches, watching yourself in the mirror as you put on a pair of simple earrings when you heard the front door of the apartment opening.

“(y/n)?”

“Coming!” Grabbing your small clutch, you hurried out of the bedroom, almost running smack into Huan in the hallway.

“Well, hello there,” he laughed as he encased you in an embrace close to his chest.

You placed a chaste kiss on his lips. “Hi. How was work?”

He shrugged. “It was work. I’m much happier here.”

That got a giggle out of you. “So, does that mean you’d rather stay here than go to dinner?”

“Not a chance,” Huan said firmly, letting you go and taking a hold of your hand instead. “I made this reservation weeks ago. I’m not just going to cancel them now.”

For some reason, the way he phrased it… No. You were overthinking things and looking for something that wasn’t there.

But why? Your mind had never gone in that direction before. So why look at things that way now?

Pushing it all away, you vowed that you would enjoy tonight. A date with your fiance. This was happiness.

The restaurant was filled to fire code capacity when you arrived. How a fancy restaurant could be fully booked in a college city like this was beyond your comprehension, but it was simply so. The foyer was filled to the point that there was no more seating for those waiting patiently on the next available table.

After checking in with the hostess, you and Huan stood off to the side and out of the way until you were called. It was too loud to try and make conversation, so you stood there in silence, occasionally smiling at each other. Within ten minutes, you were shown to your table, thankfully in a more quiet area of the restaurant where conversation was actually possible. The waiter was quick to take your drink orders soon after you sat down. Huan ordered a bottle of wine without consulting you and refused to tell you the price of whatever alcohol he’d asked for.

“How are your classes going?” he asked, placing his menu off to the side.

The waiter came back, expertly pouring each of you a glass of white wine before leaving the bottle in an ice bucket and taking your orders for dinner.

“They’re going fine,” you replied. “I have a speech to give tomorrow on effects of colors on marketing strategies in different demographics.”

“So, you probably shouldn’t have gone out tonight then, huh?” Huan teased.

Giggling, you shrugged. “I’ve been practicing all day between classes. Ji Yeon even gave it a seal of approval, so I think a little break is fine. There is such thing as overdoing it.”

“Ji Yeon is the girl you met at the library, right?”

You nodded. “Yeah, she is. I really like her.”

“Good.” Huan reached out across the table, taking your left hand in his. He rocked the diamond ring on your finger back and forth with his thumb. “I’m glad you’re making friends here. I was a little worried when we moved all the way out here that you’d be alone most of the time.”

“I understand that your job keeps you busy,” you reassured him with a shrug. “And I’m able to make friends, obviously.”

“(y/n)?”

Turning to search for the source of your name, you lit up at finding it. Ji Yeon was only a few feet away. No longer dressed in her usual jeans, plaid button downs, and camisole, she looked stunning in her little black dress. And she wasn’t alone. A blonde haired man stood beside her, smiling brightly.

“Ji Yeon, hi!” You got up from your seat and went over to hug her. “We were just talking about you!”

“All good things, I hope,” Ji Yeon chuckled.

“Of course.” Remembering your manners, you turned to back to the table. “Ji Yeon, this is my fiance, Huan. Huan, this Ji Yeon.”

Huan stood up and shook Ji Yeon’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. (y/n) has talked nonstop about you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too” Ji Yeon smiled. “(y/n) has told me a lot about you. This,” she gestured to the man next to her, “is Minseok, my m- my boyfriend.”

Minseok and Huan exchanged handshakes. The smile that was on Minseok’s face faltered just a bit after he took a deep breath.  He squeezed Ji Yeon’s hand, getting a confused look from her.

“Well, we’ll let you get back to your dinner,” she said. “It was nice meeting you, Huan. I’ll see you tomorrow, (y/n).”

“Okay,” you nodded, waving goodbye. “See ya later.”

The two of them walked off, Minseok whispering in her ear.

“She does seem nice,” Huan commented when you sat back down. “But that Minseok….”

“What about him?” you asked. He seemed exactly how Ji Yeon had described him, gummy smile and all.

“I don’t know,” he sighed. “He just seemed like he didn’t like me.”

You laughed. “He just met you, Huan. He’s probably just shy. Since when did you judge people like that?”

“It’s not judging,” he argued. “It’s just a feeling. You’ve never got a feeling that someone just didn’t like you?”

“No,” you deadpanned. “Not after two seconds of meeting them.”

Huan threw his hands up. “Okay. I’m sorry. I’m ruining dinner.”

“No, you’re not,” you sighed. “Why don’t you tell me more about work instead?”

And so, with that strange encounter behind you, he went on about the different clients he was working with and how well he was fitting in with his coworkers. The conversation felt normal again and you were lost once in a world of just you and Huan.

Back at home, Huan was quick to change into his pajamas and crawl into bed, laptop open on his knees with just the covers in between.

You took your own time getting ready for bed, changing into your sleepwear and brushing your teeth in the bathroom. When you were done, you slid under the covers and snuggled into Huan’s side.

“Being on the computer this late isn’t good for your eyes,” you commented teasingly.

“I’ll put it away once I’ve finished this proposal,” he promised.

Tracing nonexistent shapes on his arm, you sighed, “I guess we should have just stayed home tonight to finish our work, huh?”

“I thought dinner was rather nice,” Huan countered, eyes still glued to the computer screen.

You chewed on your bottom lip, fighting back and forth on whether or not to voice out loud the thought that was bouncing around your head. Then, you opted to go with the truth.

“Hey, Huan?”

Click, click, click, click. “Hm?”

“I, um, I went to see Kris a few days ago,” you confessed.

The typing stopped. “You did, huh?”

“Yeah.” You sat up to watch his face. “You know, just to catch up with him. See what he’s been up to since I last saw him. A lots happened since then.”

Huan closed his laptop and set if off to the side on the nightstand. “What did you guys talk about?”

“Just life,” you replied. “Finding out what he’s been up to.”

“(y/n)… I don’t think that’s a good idea to do that anymore.”

You blinked. “Why?”

Huan blew air out from between his lips. “I just… I don’t feel comfortable with it.”

“He’s my friend,” you argued.

“Was your friend,” he countered. “You haven’t seen him for years. You don’t know who he is now.”

“Hence why I went to go see him. I’m curious as to who he is now.”

Sighing, Huan took your hand. “I just would feel better if you didn’t see him alone, just the two of you. Can you do that for me? Please?”

You wanted to continue arguing with him, to say that he was being ridiculous. You were an independent woman who could see who you wanted when you wanted. But relationships were about compromise and understanding the other person. You knew that you might be upset if Huan was out hanging with a woman you didn’t really know. So you gave in.

Leaning over to the nightstand, Huan turned off the lamp and pulled you in close to him as you both lied down to go to sleep.

Deep down, you knew that Huan was right. You didn’t know who Kris was now. Seeing him alone again would be a very bad idea. Staying away that situation would probably be easy enough. All you had to do was avoid going to the shop again. Easy enough. 

You hoped.

**

“How did the speech go?” Ji Yeon asked as you sat down across from her.

It was a nice day outside so the two of you had agreed to meet at one of the stone tables in the beautiful courtyard. A slight breeze kept the air from being too hot, but too bad to the point where your papers were flying everywhere. Fluffy white clouds floated across the blue sky while groups of students walked by, chatting about classes and their plans for the weekend.

“I think it went well,” you smiled. “I don’t think I missed any of my points. The only issue is that my professor is a master of the poker face. She gave away nothing as to if she liked it or not. That’s going to stress me out until she puts the grade in.”

Ji Yeon waved it off. “I’m sure you did perfectly fine. It sounded amazing when you did it for me.”

“Thanks,” you sighed. As much as her encouragement helped, you knew that you wouldn’t be completely calm until you knew the results of your presentation. Needing to take your mind off of it, you turned the conversation over to Ji Yeon. “How’s your project going?”

She shrugged. “Okay, I guess. I’m still having a hard time pinning down what I want the theme to revolve around.”

“You’ll figure it out eventually,” you encouraged. Her big project for the semester was worth a major percentage of her grade for this class. You wished you could be more helpful, but neither of you cared for the few ideas the two of you had come up with already.

Ji Yeon’s phone rang from it’s spot on the table. “It’s Minseok. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” you nodded.

As she stood up and walked a little ways away to talk on the phone, you pulled out a notebook and started going over your notes, highlighting certain parts that you thought might be important later on.

“Hey, (y/n).”

You jumped, messing up your highlighting in the process. Kris sat down across from you, smiling at you.

Looking over your shoulder, you tried to figure out where the hell he came from. “What are you doing here?”

Kris shrugged. “My brothers go to school here, so I came to see them since I’m not at the shop today. I saw you and thought I’d say hi.”

“Oh.”

Somehow, you were slightly disappointed in that. Then you remembered your promise to Huan.

Standing up, you put away your notebook. “I’m sorry, Kris. I have to go.”

“Why?”

You frowned at him. “What?”

“Why do you have to go?” he elaborated.

“Because I shouldn’t be alone with you,” you answered honestly.

“Shouldn’t be alone with me?” The look on Kris’ face said he was insulted by the the comment. He, too, stood to his feet, coming close to you. “Why not? That didn’t seem to be an issue when you tracked me down earlier this week.”

You gaped at him. He really had the audacity to push that back onto you. “Yeah, well, I’ve talked to Huan since then and he said that it made him uncomfortable.”

Kris snorted. “Uncomfortable, huh? Sounds like he’s feeling a little threatened by your childhood friend.”

“He is not,” you spat. What was up with him right now?

“Really?” Kris scoffed, leaning up against the table. “Then why doesn’t he want you to reconnect with a friend from when you were eight?”

Unfortunately, you didn’t have a good comeback for that. Not one that would stop any further argument, anyway. “Look, Kris, it’s nothing personal. And I do want to see you and be friends again, but Huan is important to me and if he doesn’t like this then I’m not going to risk him. I’m sorry.”

“Whatever, (y/n),” Kris mumbled. “When you’re ready to be your own person again, let me know.”

Before you could retort, he pushed off of the table and left. A minute later, Ji Yeon came back and could read your conflicting emotions all over your face.

“Did something happen?” she asked.

“No,” you lied. The situation was just too complicated to explain. And it was giving you a headache. “Still just worried about the speech results.”

Jiyeon nodded, but definitely didn’t believe you. “Okay. Well, try not to think about it then.”

“I’ll try,” you sighed. Much easier said than done.

You were still thinking about Kris and his challenge as you made dinner that night. You were your own person. You were also just considerate of the the person you wanted to spend the rest of your life with.

Huan came from work at his usual late time and greeted you quickly before heading for the bedroom to change. When he came back out, he kissed your cheek before stealing a taste of the pasta sauce simmering on the stove.

“Would you stop,” you chastised. “It’s not done yet.”

“I know,” Huan chuckled, “but your sauce is always amazing. And I’m hungry.”

“Well, you’ll have to wait a little bit longer.” To save the rest of the sauce, you covered the pot with a lid and let it finish cooking along with the pasta.

“By the way, babe,” Huan took down plates from the cabinet to set the table, “next week I’ve got to go out of town for work.”

“Oh, yeah?” you turned to him. “How long?”

“All week,” he replied. “I won’t be back until the following Monday.”

You pursed your lips. “Okay. I guess I can survive until then.”

Huan shook his head. “You always do.”

**

You spent the weekend with Huan, neglecting your homework to be with him as much as you could before he left for his business trip. And you enjoyed it a majority of the time.

However, every once in a while and without a single provocation, your mind would wander off to Kris.

What was he doing at this moment in time? Was he upset after your last encounter? Was he smiling and laughing with his “brothers”? Was he happy?

Those were not questions that you should have been asking yourself or thinking about at all. But there you were, doing it anyway. What was worse was the moments Huan caught you in deep thought. You lied each time, saying it was just school and the papers you had coming up occasionally crossing your mind.

A sense of guilt weighed you down as you dropped Huan off at the airport Monday morning. Your fingers wanted to take over the wheel and go see Kris at that stupid shop. The reason why escaped you. Why this urge to see him, make sure that he’s smiling and content, was constantly plaguing you kept escaping you.

He’s just someone you knew when you were eight, you told yourself. There was no reason or cause for any of this.

He wasn’t that special. He wasn’t some lost hero that had saved you from the tower before disappearing into the woods and leaving you alone. He was simply a person that you spent time with as child, someone who was there in your memories and had made you smile and laugh. That was it. It shouldn’t be affecting you like this.  

The sun was almost completely gone by the time you got out of class on Monday. With a sense of urgency that always came with the dark, you hurried to the now mostly empty parking lot with the thought of bed on your mind.

But you didn’t even make it to the edge when you saw a familiar figure under a streetlamp right up against the sidewalk.

Leaning on his car with his arms crossed, Kris gave you a little wave.

You simply rolled your eyes and kept on walking towards your car.

“You’re really not going stop and say hi?” he called out after you.

Whirling around, you yelled back, “What exactly do you think you’re doing just showing up here?”

Kris held his hands up as he slowly approached you. “I just want to talk.”

“You just want to talk?” you scoffed. “Fine. Then talk.”

He shook his head. “Not here.”

You didn’t move as he got close enough to grab your hand. When you didn’t pull away, he started to lead you back to his car.

“Whoa, what do you think you’re doing?” You tried to yank free, but his grip was just strong enough to keep you in place.

Opening the passenger’s side door of his car, all he said was, “Get in.”

What the hell? “No.”

“Please, get in.”

“No,” you emphasized.

This time, he simply pointed to the empty seat. The fact that you gave in so easily was insane. You should have ran, yelled at him, or did anything else besides sliding into that empty seat.

Without another word, Kris shut the door and rounded the hood of the car to take the driver’s seat. He put the car in drive and then took off out of the campus parking lot and down the street at a speed that was certainly well above the legal limit.

Everything past by you in a blur, but you could still make out the fact that he wasn’t taking you in the direction of your apartment or his shop. In fact, the buildings around you were thinning as the forest came closer.

Bracing yourself, you pushed back into the seat. There was no way to tell where Kris was taking you or why. What you did know was that you weren’t feeling as guilty or anxious as you should have been.

In fact, you were feeling at ease - safe, even, as the gauge reached over ninety miles per hour - and that was worrying you the most.

[ghinanotlinetti]

23 lessons I learnt (and am still learning) at 23-years-old

On Thursday January 30th 2020, I turned 23-years-old. I’ve never been one to want to do something extravagant for my birthday, it’d be too much pressure for a single day. I do, however, like to reflect on my year and have a mental check-up on myself to see how things are going. It just so happens that my birthday is in the month of January, the first month of the year, so I keep all my new years reflections for my birthday. I find that I tend to press refresh on January because there tends to be a lot of clutter that I couldn’t clean out from December. This year was no exception; I was working all the way until December at my corporate job, then I left the country to visit my parents for the winter holidays so I had no time to pick up the pieces from that job and my life in the big city of Jakarta. I couldn’t extend my contract when I came back so had to let go of that job, which was both scary and a relief. Life after grad is very unexpected, I don’t think they prepare us enough to deal with the highs and lows. The week of my birthday was also the same the world received tragic news about the death of Kobe Bryant and his daughter Gianna Bryant. I’m not a basketball lover but I did know Kobe Bryant as this dorky geeky guy who was a huge Potterhead, he loved Game of Thrones and The Alchemist and was not ashamed of this side of him at all. I also started feeling ill, then I got the flu and am still recovering from a cough that’s making my diaphragm and back ache so much. On the other hand, I did get to spend this birthday week with my older sister who shares the same birthday as me. We haven’t celebrated our birthday together in years, it’s nice to be together again. In the spirit of me turning 23 this year, I thought I’d share some teachings and advice I’ve picked up along the way. Hopefully it can be applicable to all, especially if you’re just entering life after uni, so here we go!

1. You’ll never make it if you don’t face it.

So you might be familiar with the phrase “fake it till you make it” which might work for some people, but in the long run it might not be a realistic approach. Of course we all have dreams and want to achieve them, however not everyone is willing to work for their dream. If you’re one of those people like me who have no problem is working hard towards their goals, then you might struggle with the next thing I want to bring up which is: patience.

2. Be patient, be patient, be patient.

I was not that willing to wait for my dreams to come true as I was when it came to working for it. I definitely love working on my writing and the hustle felt rewarding to me, however I was impatient which is quite odd because I’m also young and have years ahead of me. Maybe it’s a millenial thing to be daunted by the what if’s but it’s so valid; what if I don’t make it until I’m 40 something, settled for stability and never took a chance on my passion? I find peace in accepting that I don’t have to know these things because I trust in the universe and I believe God always has a reason.

3. Believe in yourself, over and over and over again.

As someone who struggled with low self-esteem I thought all my insecurities would vanish the moment I felt confident. Instead it’s a whole process that can’t be done overnight. It takes weeks, months, years but if you’ve been able to believe in yourself before you can certainly do it again.

4. It’s okay to not have it all figured out.

Because everyone else around you doesn’t have it all figured out!

5. Generosity can get you far in life.

Helping others is the best way to network and form meaningful relationships at the same time! It’s not worth it to be alone in your hustle, because at some point you’ll need people for a plethora of reasons.

6. Collaboration > Competition

Realistically, you can only really be an expert in a few things, maybe one or two things and that’s completely okay. Because what this means is that there’s opportunities to collaborate and create with others great things.

7. Be kind to yourself.

In order to be kind to others one mustn’t ever forget to be kind to one’s self. Simple.

8. Lead with faith, not fear.

There have been so many times when I’ve done something out of fear and thought it was necessary, but then I felt so anxious I didn’t know what to do about it. I realise now that leading with faith makes me have less panic attacks; it’s not that I’m not scared at all but more so that I’m just calmer because I’ve accepted that I don’t need to have an existential crisis every time I make a decision. So, I’d go with faith.

9. Reclaim your narrative, and stay grounded.

There’s so many labels and stereotypes that I’ve have to deal with and never asked for simple because of who I am. It’s a lot of judgement from all sorts of people and communities (and I thought I was promised one day of judgement?), so I simply refuse to be defeated. I’ll rise above and reclaim my story which demands to be heard.

10. Everyone has talent and is smart, but not everyone is authentic, kind, reliable, etc.

I thought that in order to stand out I had to have a loud, big, and bold persona, which worked fine with other people but that just wasn’t me. On the flip side, I found that most people, be it employers or friends, would value qualities such as authenticity and reliability more than what you could bring to the table.

11. Become the things you want to become and you’ll stop desperately wanting it.

So for a really long time, I’ve always wanted to be a writer and I thought I’d have to wait for that to happen. But then I’ve always been writing, therefore I already am a writer. I think this can be applied to most passion projects and everyone deserves to take a chance on their passion project no matter how absurd or crazy it might be.

12. Just try whatever it is (an interview, application, class, etc.) and at the very least you’ll have one foot in the door.

I’ve got quite an active imagination; I tend to think a hundred steps ahead, mind-wandering in places I probably shouldn’t, so sometimes I won’t do things if I can’t commit 100%. Overthinking has become tiring for me and I want to make more choices out of faith. Most often than not there’s really no harm in trying, so just give it a go.

13. Don’t suffer in silence.

I suffer in silence in the past way too much. As a result I’ve distanced myself from really good friends of mine without any clear explanation. Can’t do that again because I value my friends and they deserve better.

14. Create the art that you would want to consume.

Be your own target audience. Most people don’t actually know what they want until it’s there in the market, so you’d be waiting a long time by asking other people what they want. Just start now.

15. Rest should never be compromised.

Often when I feel like giving up, I don’t actually mean it. Sure it’s frustrating but I don’t want to quit. I just need to rest. Please rest, and make sure to get the best quality of rest.

16. It’s okay to grow out of things and people too.

In the past I’d be needy for closure, but then it became tiring. Sometimes not getting an answer is the same as getting an answer. Let go.

17. When people show you who they are, believe them.

Yes, I think everyone has made excuses for their buddies, and I’m over it honestly. This one for me isn’t about my present circle of close friends, they’re lovely and I’m really lucky to have them. It’s more for people in my past, and it’s out-of-the-blue when it happens. I hate when it happens but then I can’t just pretend it never happened.

18. You matter, block out all the noise and have a moment to listen to your own voice.

If I ever feel lost or out of touch, I know it’s time to put just a little bit of distance from myself and the world for a little while. When I get to this point I’m usually investigating around my emotions, not investing myself in them, just observing patterns and signs and then find out what it means.

19. Unlearning and healing takes time, just make progress no matter how big or small.

So I’m in my twenties and I thought by this age I’d have everything figured out. Turns out I was very wrong. The amount of unlearning and relearning I had to do and am still doing... wow. But as long as it’s not a regression and a motion forwards, even if it’s just baby steps, it’s so worth it.

20. Life is just as much of a journey backwards as it is forwards.

As someone who’s always been spiritual, this is something that I find comfort in especially in times when I feel like I don’t know where I’m going. I’m a third-cultured kid, I’ve never had a home home for so long, and that’s fine. Nothing is a given, not even tomorrow. Life is about eventually returning to the Creator; it doesn’t matter how far you’ve come, what matters is what you make of this crazy beautiful dunya.

21. Close some of those tabs once in a while, it’ll be fine!

Ties into the next one which is:

22. Relax.

I’ve been dealing with anxiety for so long, my mind is somehow on panic mode by default, even when I’m meant to be off duty. Still trying to find that balance which works for me, between work, family, friends, mental health, leisure.

23. You’re not as special as you think you are, but on the bright side it means that you’re not alone! No more pity parties for one!

No more feeling sorry for myself because it’s disgusting! There’s so much out there to explore and discover for me, and that’s worth getting excited over. Here’s to more adventures, travelling, self-discovery, friendships, love, and everything in between!

[mysteryofjotun]

My Destiny – chapter 10

summary: making a mistake after having way too many drinks can change everything

pairing: ceo!tom x female reader

warnings: none?

word count: 3k

a/n: Hey guys, it's my ya girl. I'm FINALLY back, it was about time. I didn't plan on making you wait that long. My life is just a complete mess at the moment and I didn't find time to get something done. I'm so sorry for the delay ;; I can't tell you when the next chapter will come. I'll try my best to write as fast as possible! Thank you so much for still sticking with me, you're all the best! As always, I’m sorry for all the possible mistakes (I’m like 100% sure that there is plenty of it! And I’ll correct them later!) It’s possible that some turn of phrase or else are awkward, that’s because English’s not my mother tongue. Feedback is always welcome, feel free to ask me/tell me anything. The taglist is open if some of you are interested. 

prologue | chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4 | chapter 5 | chapter 6 | chapter 7 | chapter 8 | chapter 9 | chapter 10 | chapter 11

Two short months had passed since the night Tom had come back. And he never left again. You didn't really know if he still saw her and you didn't want to think about it. You wanted to believe that he really chose you for what you really were and not because of the baby you were waiting for. You wanted to believe in his feelings. You always kept this little apprehension and restraint, your feelings were present, but you didn't want it to get the upper hand. Because after all, you could only be a passing thing. You didn't really have the opportunity to talk about the contract for a while so you weren't sure if it still stands. And you probably wouldn't ask him, you already had enough on your mind.

Tom's attitude made you think quite the opposite, that he had set the contract aside or even shredded it. He was so enthusiastic about you and the baby. He always had a little thought, whether in the morning at breakfast or in the evening when he came home from work. Now that you were in your fourth month of pregnancy, your little belly started to show and he loved to touch it. The first few times, you were quite embarrassed. Tom never really touched you, except for that night and the time he kissed you. However you got used to it quickly, and the baby too. He moved non-stop the day, not giving you a moment of calm. As soon as Tom arrived he calmed down. The baby was not even born yet that it was already hooked to Tom. He had that power over people, you fell for his charm too quickly.

Lately, it's been the same every day. Your only activities were to read, get out Tessa (but always with someone, most often one of the twins or Harrison, the Holland were scared that something might happen to you), and occasionally see Dylan and Lizzy. Not that going out didn't really miss you, but it was the fact of being always watched who weighed you a little. Nikki and Dom were adorable and would do anything for you, but it was quite stifling. Especially from Nikki. You'll never thank her enough for what she did for you, but sometimes it was too much. You took advantage of the fact that the house was empty, which was rare nowadays, to sit comfortably in the big sofa of the living room to read a book, Tessa lying at your side, head securely against your stomach. If anyone stuck it in this house it was Tessa. She didn't let anybody she didn't know get close to you and always stayed by your side, except of course when Tom was out walking her. At that moment she was completely unaware to you. Like every day other days, you waited for Tom's return, with always in mind the fact that he could leave at any time.

——

Tom was constantly tired and it didn't come from his work. He knew where it came from, though he preferred not to think about it. That was a bad thing, there were people he needed to take care of now. It was always easier to ignore it and think about something else.

And to think about something else he didn't have to go very far. He just had to go home and find you. Most of the time, when he came back you were waiting for him with a book in his hand and Tessa by your side. And that was the only thing that matters right now. Tom had decided to no longer overthinking things and appreciated the present moment. Of course, Leah was still there somewhere but she wasn't the one who mattered, at least not for the moment. He seemed to be in a great place about it, strangely enough. And that convinced him about his choice.

He came out of his thoughts when someone knocked on the window of his car. He turned his head to find Harry, looking at him somewhat dazed.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked once Tom lowered the glass.

“What’s it look like? I’m going home,” Tom retorted.

“You’ve been seated here for 10 minutes straight. Without moving.”

“I was thinking.”

“Oh, you can think?” Harry said mockingly.

“Move, you div,” Tom laughed raising the glass and getting out of the car.

“She’s waiting for you, you know,” Harry said leaning on Tom’s car, waiting for him to walk back home.

“I know, I don’t want to keep her waiting. And I need to take Tessa for a walk.”

“You’re a lucky bastard,” Harry laughed putting his right arm on Tom’s shoulder. “She’s really great,” he added more seriously.

“Yeah,” Tom smiled.

Tom knew how lucky he was, he was aware of it. Another person wouldn't stand what he had done to you. You were special and he only realized it now. They both came back, it was quite late so Tom didn't think you waited. Tessa ran up when she heard the front door open and recognized Tom's steps. You had tried to stay awake as long as you could but sleep got the best of you. You did nothing special in the day but the little peanut inside you gave you no peace. Tom came back from his daily walk with Tessa and was surprised to find you asleep in a strange position on the living room couch. He took a few minutes to watch you before eventually waking you up. He had never felt that way with Leah. He couldn't put words on how he felt, but he knew it was entirely different from all his previous relationships – not that he had tons of them. He was more the kind of guy to only have one-night stands and not be serious. Not wanting to disturb you in your slumber, he held you in his arms and brought you to your room – as calmly and safely as possible – to place you in the bed. Tessa, behind him, was thrilled to jump on the bed and lie down at your feet, watching over you.

——

"Tom, we’re going to be late," you shouted from the living room.

You had an appointment to know the baby's gender and you didn't want to be late. As if the day wasn't already stressful enough, there was a big charity gala tonight. It will be your first appearance since the disaster of the last time. However this time, you'll be joining as Tom's wife, not as a secretary or a mistress. His wife.

"I’m coming, here I am," he replied descending the stairs and putting on his leather jacket.

You took a few moments to admire him. It wasn't often that he dressed as casual. You were more accustomed to costumes, though you quickly got used to the jogging t-shirt he wore when he came home. You always had a hard time telling yourself that all of this "belonged to you" and that you could say that it was your husband. It was crazy and insane for you. Not so long ago, you had a job of misery – even if technically you liked it, it was the atmosphere that was shabby – a trashy boyfriend and you lived in a flatting situation with your best friend. And there you shared a beautiful house with a Greek god and you were surrounded by great people. Of course, without all the problems you had to meet on your way. But of a rather optimistic nature, you put them aside, taking advantage of this break to enjoy your pregnancy. The ride to the gynaecologist's office was quiet, Tom drove as carefully as he could, his hand secured on your stomach. A habit he took these past few months. Once arrived, we called you quickly, after all, you were late. Tom didn't want to admit it – you had never seen so much bad faith in anyone before. You just laughed at his bad faith. A nurse guided you to the doctor's surgery where she was waiting for you. When you entered the room, she got up and greeted you before inviting you to sit down.

“I’m happy to see you both here today,” the middle-aged woman said joyfully. “The father’s presence is really important for the baby as much as for the mother.”

“I do my best,” Tom admitted.

“I can see it, your presence today is the proof.”

Tom smiled and held your hand tighter as he listened to the ob-gyn’s words. After the many recalls, the consultation began. You got up and headed to the examination table, Tom on your heels.

“We’ll know the baby gender today, right?” the woman smiled while she applied the icy gel on your belly.

“Yes,” Tom rushed to answer, which made you smile.

“Someone is in a hurry,” the ob-gyn laughed.

“Kind of...” you smiled.

The exam went on normally, the doctor took her time to explain everything that was happening on the screen. Tom couldn't stay still and literally drank in the doctor's words. It made you enthusiastic to see him like that and you couldn't imagine the latter with mini you running in the Holland property.

“What?” Tom smiled at you. You didn’t even realize you were staring at him.

“Nothing,” you blushed, looking away.

"Congratulations! It's a girl!" the woman said happily.

"A girl," Tom repeated not believing his eyes.

A little girl, he was going to be a dad. These words hit him hard. Now it was hard facts. You knew the gender and you will soon look for a name. Whereas before, he knew she was there, he saw the belly grow from month to month and he didn't forget about its existence but it was easier to put it aside. To act as if nothing had happened. But now he couldn't bury his head in the sand any more. He was going to be a dad and taking care of a family. And that, it terrified him much more than he would dare to admit.

"You’re not happy?"

"I'm beyond happy! I… I don’ know what to say. I’m at loss of words." Tom declared quickly. "And I need to call my mum! Oh my god, she'll be so happy. I'll be right back, okay?"

"Hum," you said as he kissed the top of your head.

When Tom came out, the doctor waited a few minutes before speaking. Making sure that the young man wouldn't resurface.

"You seem a lot closer than during the last appointment. In fact, you’re like chalk and cheese.”

"Ah, yeah" you replied awkwardly. "He made a lot of efforts for the baby. I’m hopeful.. for both of us.”

"Does he.. he treat you well?"

"Of course! Why wouldn’t he?"

"Well, pregnancy can also be hard to live for the husband. And it’s the first time he came to an appointment."

"He’s busy."

"I believe you, but you shouldn’t glorify him. You must also communicate so that all these emotions don't eat you up inside, especially with your poor record."

"Yes doctor, don't worry, he takes really good care of me and does his best to free himself as much as possible."

And as if Tom had felt that you were talking about him, he returned to the room, a big smile on his face.

"I'll leave you a few moments, while I'm going to print the ultrasounds," she said before leaving the room, giving you a big smile.

Tom sat next to you, taking your hand. But as you had to get dressed, you let go of it.

"What did Nikki say?" asked him, putting on your shirt. "She asked how you were doing and she literally popped my eardrum when I told her it was a girl." "A bit of femininity in this family won't hurt," you laughed. "And wait to see the reaction of my brothers," he added laughing in his turn.

A silence settled between you two again. As you continued buttoning your shirt, Tom cleared his throat ready to talk.

"Uhm ..." he said moving to be in front of you.

You raised your head when you heard the sound of his voice. He took your hand in his. You lowered your head and he put his fingers under your chin so that you could look at him.

"I'm really happy we can start this family together, really," he said looking at you straight in the eyes. "I absolutely don't regret my choices and this appointment really comforts me on my choices." You lowered your head again, facing his words. "Look at me," he said gently stroking your right cheek. You blushed, not quite accustomed to his gestures of affections. "Can I kiss you?"

You looked intensely at him, blushing again. You just nodded, not finding the words. You didn't actually know if it was a wise choice. On one side your rational side told you not to do it, that he was just trying to soften you and then make you suffer but your less rational side wanted to this kiss, you wanted to succumb. And that's what you were going to do. You chose weakness – it wasn't surprising. He pressed his forehead to yours, raising your head smoothly and pressed his lips to yours delicately. Tom didn't push things, he took his time. He didn't depend the kiss, it wasn't what he was looking for, he wanted to convey these feelings. Someone cleared its throat which cut short the kiss. You raised your head and saw the gynaecologist with a big smile. You blushed even more because of the surprise. Tom turned, scratching the back of his head – a nervous tic.

"Here's your picture, lovebirds," she laughed, as she gave Tom the scan.

——

"Are you sure it's not ridiculous?" You asked Nikki through the bathroom door, "My belly is really starting to show ..." "Of course not, that's not ridiculous!" She replied outraged. "Would you prefer something more fluid?" "Yes, please," you added, still hiding in the bathroom.

This night was important. Tom was going to introduce you as his wife. And you really hoped that everything would be better than the last time. Tom promised you, but what did he know after all? Nikki had absolutely wanted to pick you a dress, tearing you away from Tom when you came home. Usually, her enthusiasm was a communicator and made you happy but right now it stressed you. This night was designed to stress you out.

"Put this on," Nikki said knocking softly on the door. "You're beautiful," Nikki exclaimed as she finally looked at you coming out of the bathroom.

"Thank you," you stuttered.

You weren't really accustomed to receiving compliments, especially from someone other than your mother. You turned to admire yourself in the mirror. The dress was black and made of a very fluid fabric. Your shoulders were partly bare, with embroidered sleeves. You touched the baby bump that you could guess through the dress. This dress really looked good on you.

"So?" Nikki asked excited by the fittings. "Waoh," a voice said behind you two, cutting you before you could open your mouth. You went back and saw Tom in the dressing room. You lowered your head so that he didn't notice the crimson shade of your cheeks.

"I think it's... not bad," you said to answer Nikki's question. "It's even better than not bad, Y / N, you're gorgeous," he said, kissing your cheek, increasing your blush. Nikki couldn't stop smiling.

——

"Tom, lucky bastard," Harry said tapping him on the shoulder and looking at you in the distance. Nikki and Dom had insisted on presenting you - or at least showing you to their friends at the charity gala. Hum," he said sipping his bourbon. He couldn't look anywhere else, you were breathtaking. You looked up and your eyes met. You apologized to the people to whom you were and went to Tom.

Once in front of him, he took your hand and brought you closer, protectively. "No alcohol?" he said, pointing to your glass. "No alcohol sir," you answered sarcastically. As if you were going to risk drinking, especially after your appointment. "Do you want to come home?" He asked, taking your hand in his and playing with one of your fingers.

"No, it's good we can stay." You lie, feeling uncomfortable. Since the beginning of the evening, you could feel the eyes of people on you, even worse than last time. "Are you sure?" He asked you, staring at you trying to disclose your lie. "Yes yes," you continued before adding. "And I know how important this evening is to you, I don't want to ruin your chances, Tom." "It's not that important," he lied.

In fact, this evening was more than important for him. It was in those kinds of parties that he made the most contracts and contacts. However, he was trying to think about anything except for himself, it was hard enough for him but he really tried. So, if you felt bad, he would come home with you. After all, his brothers were there. Even if deep down, he would like to bring back the biggest contract, it was just an ego thing.

You only looked at him with a 'don't bullshit me' look on your face. "Okay, maybe it's important. But you too are important," he said.

You continued to chat about everything and nothing. Tom introduced you to some of his partners. Tom was in a conversation with a group of men and women when you saw him. You would recognize his superior appearance from miles around. A shiver ran down your spine. As if Tom could have felt your discomfort, he looked at you, questioning you with his eyes. You smiled at him to convince him and he returned to his conversation. You couldn't stop looking around, praying he wouldn't see you. You were fearing he would make a fuss like last time. After a moment, Tom apologized to the group of people and took you by the arm, moving away.

"What's the matter?" Tom asked "Nothing," you answered softly. "I can obviously see that something is wrong, it's the baby?" "No no," you say. "It's ... it's just that I saw someone I didn't want to see." "Who is that?" "Harold," you whispered.

"I didn't hear anything," he replied as he leant on you. He couldn't hear anything because of the noise around you. "Harold," you repeated louder. Tom turned around and looked around the room. His eyes finally found his mark and sighed with annoyance. "I had done everything so that he wouldn't be here tonight, I'm sorry." "It doesn't matter, you have nothing to do with it."

"Look at him strutting like a cockerel," he said, anger slightly rising in him. "We'll see who's going to be humiliated this time." Tom started walking toward him when you stopped him. "Stop it. That's stupid." You said while holding back Tom. "If you do that you'll be even worse than him." "Not even torture him a bit?" Tom asked hopefully. "No," you said seriously. After a moment of silence, he came back, not giving up.

“Are you SURE I can’t punch him in the face?”

“Yes.”

“What if I just break his nose a little?”

“Tom, stop,” you said hitting his chest. “C-Can we leave?” you asked shyly.

“Of course, princess,” he said.

You blushed, your cheeks turning crimson red at the name use. He took your hand and you left under the gaze of Tom’s family taken aback of seeing you leaving this early.

tags : @deadlyaffairs @hbmoore1986 @bellagrayson-wayne @smexylemony @aquawomxn @meyrapp @champagnesugamama @let-me-luve-you @vogueworthy-barnes @tmrhollandkay @avatarkyoshithewarrior @hollandertom2013 @tomshufflepuff @fnosidam @tryn25 @margauxa29 @hannahholland1811 @whatareyouhidingpeter @ultimategalaxyprogram @parkerssweb @justmesadgirl @loxbbg @andreuskystuff @hazosterfield-and-mcu

[themagiciansreccenter]

Author Spotlight: @highkingfen

Every week we are going to be interviewing a writer from The Magicians fandom. If you would like to be interviewed or you want to nominate a writer, get in touch via our ask box.

First things first, tell us a little about yourself.

I am Cath, I’m 27 years old, I speak French and I live in Montreal, Quebec, Canada. I met my husband on Tumblr, I love cosplaying and doing edits in photoshop. My main blog is @booksandanxieties and, my other side blogs are @themagiciansweirdface and @fillorymedia. I also co-own @neitherlandslibrary.

How long have you been writing for?

Since I am 12, there’s some french harry potter fic written by me in the dark web of ff.net.

What inspired you to start writing for The Magicians?

I missed writing! And there was not a lot of fics when I join (Still remember there were only 15 pages on ao3)

Who is/are your favourite character(s) to write? What it is about them that makes them your favourite?

Arielle and Fen, which is odd I am aware ahha! I adore writing about them because first, we don’t get to see them a lot and I love to explore what they could be and their story and I love writing about what it is to live in Filory and all of its lore, they are both great protagonists to do so.

Do you have a preference for a particular season/point in time to write about?

Lately, I have been fixed on 3x05 (life in the day) because I wrote an entire fic named The Golden Tile that is about the first five years of Eliot and Quentin in Fillory’s past. I love rewriting whole season with canon divergences. What if’s are fun to write especially in this fandom, the timelines make it easy to do it!

Are you working on anything right now? Care to give us an idea about it?

As some may know, I am currently writing an Unofficial The Magicians dnd book! ( @unofficialmagiciansdnd ) It is about 65% done. I have still some of the mechanics to write and a lot of lists to create (Such as a list of spells or a list of magical creatures)

I also write on the side Book 2 of The Golden Tile named Under Pressure. I finished the first fic with a surprise plot twist that was canon divergent, with the second book I explore the consequence; what if Eliot and Quentin found the golden tile 5 years into their quest and comes back on Earth 5 years older with Arielle and Rupert.

How long is your “to do list”?

Not so long, I try to focus on what I write and I tend not to think of other things. But I do have a Twin!Au with Fen and Q that I want to write and Book 2 of my Fenfic where we see her point of view during season 2 and 3.

What is your favourite fic that you’ve written for The Magicians? Why?

That’s cruel to ask. I have two that I am rather proud but if I have to choose, I’d say The Girl from the World in The Wall (that I nicknamed my fenfic) which is the story of Fen before Eliot. We follow her from her 2 years old until she married the High King, learning his name on the altar.

I had started to write it after season 2, totally in love with Fen and mad that we didn’t know anything about her and mad at how the gang treated her. So I wondered what it was to be raised knowing you might marry a king. The word might is important since they didn’t know if Eliot would ever come. I wanted to explore how did she join the FU Fighter and why, despite her beliefs, she accepts her forced marriage. There was a lot to explore there so I started to untangle everything and ended up having to create lore for Fillory because we do not know much of what it is to be a farmer, knifemakers, peasant, in this land. I fell deeply in love with the lore and discovered in Fen a strong woman that decided to choose love and kindness, not out of naivety, but because it is the right thing to do.

When Season 3 aired, I’d finished writing the fic (it was a NaNoWriMo goal) and I was more than happy to discover that what I’d written actually fit what they wrote about her. I ADORE that we got to know her more and don’t get me started on her being an acting king.

P.s: Some of the lore in the Fenfic ended up leaking in The Golden Tile; I love tying my fics in one large universe.

Many writers have a fic that they are passionate about that doesn’t get the reception from the fandom that they hoped for. Do you have a fic you would like more people to read and appreciate?

My fenfic, hands down. I wish they would read The Girl from the world in the wall to see where most of the lore and my love of Fillory comes from. Fen is underestimated in the fandom (Though less since season 3) and deserve more recognition.

What is your writing process like? Do you have any traditions or superstitions that you like to stick to when you’re writing?

I listen to podcasts all the time so when I write, I need silence. Music distracts me. I always need the thesaurus synonym because I tend to use the same word over and over or know what a word means but finding it imprecise. Which makes writing without internet hard, but now that I know its a must, I try as much as I can, to write where wifi is. Also, I can’t write if someone is in the room. Even if they are doing their own stuff. I don’t know why. Even when I was writing essays for classes it was like that.

Do you write while the seasons are airing or do you prefer to wait for hiatus? How does the ongoing development of the canon influence and inspire your writing process?

I had nothing really going during season 3 and then episode 5 happen and I kinda exploded. Knowing it was a self-contained story (the life having already been lived by Q and Eliot) I started to write while it was airing. It is at the end of it that I decided that the ending of The Golden Tile could be interesting if it was canon divergent; I’m excited to see what Arielle and Rupert bring into the group and if it will lead toward the same choice. Only time will tell!

Otherwise, I usually write One Shot during airing season time, that way I don’t have to overthink things if what I write is not canon compliant anymore.

What has been the most challenging fic for you to write?

My Fenfic. Maybe that’s why it is the one I am the proudest of. To have to create a whole character and yet stick to the canon was exciting. As well as reading as much as I can about Fillory. There was not a lot about it online at the time, so it had been meticulous research (I had the map of FIllory open most of the time I was writing just to be sure of the place I was saying were compliant. ) Before I never did much research before writing a fic, now it is one of my favorite parts

Are there any themes or tropes that you particularly like to explore in your writing?

Canon divergence, as you can see! I love to see the butterfly effect and how one thing can change the whole story. My first longfic Shake it off was about Eliot forcing back Quentin on his med. And that changed a lot of things! Yay for timelines that can make us say its canon!

Are there any writers that inspire your work? Fanfiction or otherwise?

J.K Rowling will always be important for my writing because her universe made me want to write. I read a lot of YA so I can say the author influence my writing because, through reading, I discover what I like and what I don’t which makes me better in the end.

Fanfic-wise, I discovered a lot of great author in this fandom and I hate naming people because if I don’t name someone they might be sad or get discouraged, and I don’t want that. I adore that we got so many writers and that the subjects are so different. It’s not only one trope on one ship over and over. Sometimes I read a summary and I laughed cause I wonder how the author came up with the idea! It made me want to be better and write more elaborate and less easy trope fics.

What are you currently reading? Fanfiction or otherwise?

Depression had kicked my ass with reading. I went from reading 92 books last year to 4 this year. So yeah, I don’t read as much, but I try to get back in, now that I am feeling better.

I just finished reading There there be Gerblins, a graphic novel of the first arch of The Adventure Zone podcast. It’s really good and funny. In fact, this podcast is part of the inspiration of me writing the DND book.

The Dnd book writing means that I carry everywhere the 5th edition of Dungeon and Dragon with me. It is not a copycat of it, but there are mechanics that are the same or, sometimes, they help me just figure out how to structure the book itself. I love the weird look I get when I go to Starbuck with it.

I just bought a new book by J.K Rowling name Very Good lives and I am excited to read it when I’m going in my next trip; a plane without wifi is a good excuse to read.

Fanfic wise; I usually binge. I wait a month or two and then read everything I haven’t read. But one fic I read the moment there is a new chapter is The Mess We Made by Rays. I looooovelove love it. A must read

What is the most valuable piece of writing advice you’ve ever been given?

Write first, edit after. Otherwise, you’ll edit the same paragraph the rest of your life.

that or

If 50 shades of gray can be published, you can do it.

they are my two mottoes.

Cringe time:

Are there any words or phrases you worry about overusing in your work?

oh, I have a ton of them. I can’t think of one example but sometimes I get stuck on a word on a paragraph and I am using it for like ever. Hense the wonder of thesaurus synonym website.

What was the first fanfic that you wrote? Do you still have access to it?

A harry potter one, I probably can find it. I don’t want to. LOL

Rapid Fire Round:

Self-edit or Beta? Self-edit, trying the Beta for Under Pressure!

Comments or Kudos/Reblogs or Likes? COMMENTS FOR SURE I LIVE FOR THOSE. how many time did one comment make me continue to write! But honestly, anytime someone acknowledges they read my thing, I am happy and blown away. I forget sometimes, that people want to read my stuff.

Smut, Fluff or Angst? All of the above? Honestly? Depend on the mood!

Quick & Dirty or Slow Burn? Depend on the mood too! Usually slow burn but sometimes a good Quick & Dirty is always good

Favourite season? 3

Favourite episode? Six Stories about Magic

Favourite book(The Magicians books)? The first one

Three favourite words? Bunny, kindness, writing

Want to be interviewed for our author spotlight? Get in touch here.

[raptorific]

i agree with what ur saying wrt the deadpool post but then i went and saw dp2 amd was surprised bc it really is about dp rejection cycles of revenge and embracing compassion and mercy (to some extent) and idk im just confused about why you would reject it so wholeheartedly when the movie really is trying to say the same thing your post is. am i wrong about the movie or do you dislike what it represents to other people & therefore any individual adaptation cannot redeem the concept as a whole?

The plot of Deadpool 2 is too incoherent and nihilistic to say literally anything about anything, honestly. I’m probably gonna say some spoilers in my post so here’s hoping you have some combination of the phrase “deadpool spoilers” blacklisted if you care! I don’t wanna get angry messages about how I spoiled the movie for you because I gave you all three whole paragraphs to hit “J” and skip to the next post before I even mention a single plot detail.

Now, I’ve read detailed plot descriptions of Deadpool 2-- I haven’t seen it because honestly I just can’t bring myself to give money to a project that I feel like should’ve been mothballed within the hour after the production team killed that stuntwoman, and frankly I think less of anyone involved with the project who didn’t walk off set rather than continue making the movie after that-- but I know the whole plot and frankly it sounds like I haven’t missed very much. 

So, the issue with Deadpool 2 is essentially that it carries the same insulting-to-the-audience’s-intelligence thesis statement as “South Park,” which is “got a problem? you’re just overthinking it, who cares this much, it’s just a movie, shut up and enjoy it.” The majority of the time I have an issue with people using the word “plotholes” when an ounce of critical thinking would resolve the problem, but in the case of Deadpool 2, the plot only makes sense if you aggressively refuse to think critically about it.

For example, and here’s where the spoilers start: the villain, Cable AKA Not-Thanos, has come back in time to prevent the murder of his wife and family. Deadpool eventually manages to help him in this endeavor, but gives up his life in the process. Cable’s time machine only has one use left, and he sacrifices his ability to return to the future and be with his family in order to save Deadpool’s life as thanks for his help, trapping him in the present day forever. There’s an ending you can work with, some real pathos, a conflict that you can really truly sink your teeth into as a media consumer. But does it matter? Nah, because Negasonic fixes the time machine in literally the next scene. 

So why doesn’t he just use the now-fixed time machine to go back home? The movie doesn’t stay! The plot, and Brolin’s multi-picture contract, requires Cable to be trapped in the present because his time machine broke, and “the time machine can be, and has been, fixed” seems like a pretty glaring inconsistency to me. The film gives no indication that the fact that Deadpool can give Cable back his ride home will be addressed or resolved in later films. 

In my opinion this is a way more glaring issue than “why doesn’t Thanos just make more resources,” since at least with that you can pretend the answer is “because what he really wants is to kill half the universe, and making more resources doesn’t enable him to do that.” The answer for this is basically just “this isn’t a movie that expects you to give anything a second thought or remember anything but the set-up for the punchline you’re currently hearing.”

There’s also the issue of him going back in time and killing “X-Men Origins Wolverine” Deadpool. I get that it’s a joke but it makes zero sense. A joke that’s only funny if you don’t think about it at all isn’t actually funny. Did Wolverine rewrite that timeline so the current version of Deadpool exists instead of that one? Then why is he able to travel back into a movie that never happened. Did that movie happen as part of this Deadpool’s backstory? Then how can he kill his past self and still exist? The entire joke is “clap if you know what we’re referencing!” and anyone who thinks it’s stupid is just being a buzzkill and overthinking it. 

Which brings me to the other issue-- no part of Deadpool’s character journey in this movie matters in the slightest. None of it. Because it didn’t happen. At the end of the movie he goes back in time and literally erases the plot of the movie. The writers fridged his girlfriend in the opening scene so they could have a whole movie about what happens to Deadpool when his girlfriend dies, but they didn’t feel like committing to it, so they go basically end the movie with a big “just kidding! this was all a What-If situation and none of it actually happened, but if it did, that’s how it would’ve gone down!” They really wanted to have their overtly sexist cake and eat it too!

In order for the story to make sense, the status quo going into Deadpool 3 has to be exactly the same as the status quo going into Deadpool 2, but I know that won’t be the case. I’m sure that, other than Morena Baccarin being in it, the franchise will straight-up never address why Cable can’t go home or how a plot that revolves around Morena Baccarin being unceremoniously fridged in the first scene (by writers who admit they didn’t even know that “women in refrigerators” is a thing until people got upset about it in their movie) can have happened when she’s clearly still alive. 

And that’s the big issue I have and why Deadpool 2 is included in my post about soulless, cynical, insulting entries in the superhero genre. It’s a movie that not only doesn’t make sense, it’s a movie that goes out of its way to spit in the face of anyone who expects it to make sense or ever actually thinks about the movies they watch. 

The movie is absolutely not trying to say the same thing as my post. Deadpool’s brand of casual liefeldian ultraviolence is inherently antithetical to my post’s thesis statement. The only way to make a Deadpool movie that isn’t directly counter to the point I’m trying to make is to either omit him entirely from the movie or portray him unambiguously as a villain. There is no such thing as a Deadpool movie that is not an insult to the superhero genre. His existence as a character is antithetical to the values of mercy, compassion, and reverence for human life. 

Ultimately, the answer to “am I wrong about the movie?” is up to you. If you’re asking me, the answer is “if you like it, then yes.” I’m sure other people find value in it or enjoy it, and I think those people have the wrong opinion, just like I’m sure they think I have the wrong opinion because I hate, and I mean truly despise, the Deadpool movies, the Deadpool comics, and all the Deadpool merchandise at your local FYE. I’m not equipped to tell you that you’re wrong about the movie. This is my position on this movie, if you disagree with it, then as far as you’re concerned, you were right about the movie. If you agree with it, then as far as you’re concerned you were once wrong but now you’re right. You own your opinions and you’re the one who has to decide whether or not they’re the right ones. Anyone who disagrees with my take completely is well within their rights to do so, because I sure as hell disagree with them. They can even think I’m an absolute moron who just wants to rain on people’s parade, doesn’t make an ounce of difference to me. 

Personally, I’m really not interested in changing anyone’s mind. I’m confident my opinion is correct so, just to deter any other anons (I know who this anon is and they’re not a dick, so this part isn’t addressed at them) it would be pointless to try and argue with me. If you think I’m wrong, great, the feeling’s mutual, but I have zero interest in changing my mind or yours beyond what I’ve already done, stating my position and you either agree or disagree. I think you’re wrong and I can live with that. I only ask the same courtesy. 

I also don’t think Ryan Reynolds should’ve been given a second chance to play the character, and tbh I think the main reason he still has an acting career is because he’s a generically inoffensive white dude with name recognition but not much else going for him, but that’s a matter for a different post. 

[kaesaaurelia]

not a threat. was just going through your weird research tag and was referencing a poat from like a year ago. the one with the chicago alderman. i kinda want to ask about your research + writing process but also not? you mentioned going to a lecture. How do you balance wrok writing and research?

Ahahaha okay I know exactly the post you meant, sorry about that, I didn’t think it was really a threat, don’t worry!  I was just super confused.  I actually relistened to the podcast that was from earlier this week!  I had however forgotten the phrase “legislative chainsaw.”

This is going to get a bit long, so I’m putting it under a cut.

Regarding work/writing/research balance... honestly I don’t really balance the work part that well?  I just don’t have a very demanding job.  When it’s stressful it’s more in an interpersonal way (dealing with annoying clients and so on) so that will occasionally make me miss a lecture or tour I had planned to go on after work if I have a really draining day, but usually I tell myself “but it’s for research and you love research,” and I go, and I love research so I enjoy myself.

(Really I miss out on more of these things because they’re in the winter and it’s too cold to leave my apartment after I’ve gotten home from work.)

As far as balancing writing and research, that one is trickier.  I could not for the life of me find internal diagrams of what meatpacking plants were like before I wrote the DT factory sequence, but eventually I just decided I’d make it up, and now at some point I feel like I should go back and rewrite it because I did FINALLY have the chance to tour a former meatpacking plant and it’s totally different from what I had been picturing.  Sometimes you just have to keep writing the thing and hope no experts in whatever field it is will be reading your fic.  (Or that if they do they won’t be too offended.)

I don’t spend a ton of time on in-person research, by the way.  I probably do spend more time on it than most fanfic authors?  But most fanfic authors are not writing something set in their own city and the ones who are probably have busier lives than me.  When I talk about a tour or a lecture it’s because I keep an eye out for local-history-related events, but most of my research is incidental (as in, I google around madly trying to figure out some minor detail) or something I do without any particular targeted facts (like I listen to a local history podcast, and have a lot of relevant books on my to-read list).

In general a lot of the irl things I think of vaguely as research are also often just for inspiration -- I love travel and museums and I am always thinking about the stuff I encounter in the vein of “hey that could make an interesting fic!”  And like I said, it can be a great shortcut past anxiety, or when I’m socially drained.

Overall most of the stuff I cite as research is either things I already knew from these outings or from my general reading, but didn’t necessarily plan to use, or things that I just googled up randomly because I absolutely did not expect to need to know the historical origins of fitted sheets or ketchup packets for a mob AU set in the 1930s.  (Actually I don’t think I ever cited those ones?  There’s a lot of research, also, in the vein of “I want to write this one scene, but did they even have X in the 1930s?  No.  Okay, I won’t be writing that one scene or I’ll be writing it in a very different way.”  And of course, it doesn’t get cited because why would I cite something that isn’t present?)

I think the most research I ever did for one detail was the night I realized I needed to know who the Dreemurr Gang’s allies were and which cities they were in, but unfortunately there wasn’t a ton of data on smuggling routes to Chicago except for liquor coming in from Canada via Detroit.  My google fu ended up being useless that night, so I decided to take it a step back and figure out where liquor was mostly imported from.  Then it turned out that it was from a lot of different places because there’s uh, a lot of different kinds of liquor.  (This seems like it should be obvious, but like... I don’t drink much?)

Anyway, I ended up going through 43 different Prohibition-era cocktail recipes, tallying up what kinds of liquors were being used most, put those on a list along with beer and wine, and then figured out sources for all of them and came up with a short list of cities, then came up with 2-3 monsters in charge of bootlegging in those cities based on local cryptids and mythical creatures from the cultures that immigrated there.  I got zero actual writing done that night but now I have a lot of little details if I want to put them in for flavor, and it’ll be easier if for plot reasons they need to go to another city.  (The downside is I kind of want them to do that whether it’s relevant or not; I’m super fond of some of the characters I came up with.)

I would really not suggest doing anything like the above unless you actually like research and aren’t super worried about getting your writing done; it’s a great example of overthinking it.  If I was a pro writer it’d probably be the kind of thing I might ask an expert/historian/librarian to help me with if I knew it was going to be absolutely vital to writing the thing, but it’d also be perfectly reasonable to write around it or to just Make Shit Up.  But I enjoyed it, honestly, and I did keep writing, because I find that stuff inspiring.

Hopefully that was some kind of answer?  Sorry, I feel very blathery every time someone asks me a question like this.